Chessmen, Interlude (Erik/Charles)
Title: Chessmen, Part 4
Pairing: Erik/Charles
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: This doesn't advance the plot. Assuming there was a plot. This is just some gratuitous shower sex. #isshowersexevertrulygratuitous?
Crossposted at 1stclass_kink in response to the Bromance World Tour prompt
Part One, Part Two, Part Three
That was how it was going to go, they knew, and the next morning he awoke sore and sticky in Erik Lensherr’s double bed and had the momentary panic of awakening somewhere logical but unexpected, with warm arms around his waist and a chin nestled against the back of his neck.
“Morning,” Erik said, fuzzily, into his ear.
“Did I put your arm to sleep?” Charles asked, instinctively, noticing their position, and Erik laughed.
“Good morning to you too, my adorable telepath,” he said, and there was that kick of delight in the base of Charles’ chest. “How has the first night of the mission, codenamed We Fuck Around The Country Finding Mutants, been for you?”
“An unmitigated success,” Charles said, grinning back at him.
“You had no idea this was going to happen, did you?” Erik said, those blue eyes peering questioningly into his, and for a non-telepath he was again oddly close to the mark. “You only knew you wanted me, not how.”
“Sometimes we all surprise ourselves,” Charles answered. “Besides the bedroom is seldom the first place it occurs to me to look.”
“Of course, Professor,” Erik said.
“If you call me that I’m going to start referring to you by some equally asinine title,” Charles warned. “Like Magnet-Man.”
“Please don’t do that.” Erik licked his ear. “It makes me sound like a novelty toy at the bottom of a cereal box.”
“Erik we need to be in Delaware by half-past,” Charles laughed, trying to break free of the other mutant’s grip. “And I’ve really got to shower.”
“Shower, eh?” Erik’s grin had broadened from ear to ear. “Mind if I watch?”
Of course it had turned into more than watching.
Charles had lathered his torso for exactly one minute and was beginning to slip the soap downwards in what he admitted was not perhaps the least tantalizing manner possible, when Erik had thrown off his robe and slipped into the shower with him and switched the water unpleasantly cold.
“Erik, it’s positively Antarctic in here.”
“I like a cold shower. I find it bracing.”
Charles had turned to adjust the faucet and then felt a tongue press warmly against the back of his neck, and his whole body quivered with the sensation, the frigid water awakening all his pores, and he felt the familiar hum of building arousal and Erik’s voice hissed against his throat, “Still prefer your showers hot?” and he’d shuddered and nodded, and as Erik planted deliberate kisses down his neck and across his shoulder and asked, “Still?” he’d adjusted it warmer yet and nodded again and then Erik had shoved him up against the wall and pinioned both his arms and was grinning down at him and he heard the metal faucet squeal and felt the water turn cold again and muttered, “That’s not fair, Erik.”
“You like it,” Erik said, a strand of damp hair falling in his face, and he was so perfect in that moment that Charles felt his whole being give a great shrug and he heard himself saying, “I like it.”
“That’s the trouble with you, Charles,” Erik said, looking at him with an air of excess seriousness. “You don’t know your own mind.”
“Known yours,” Charles thought suddenly, pushing his way into the morning disarray of Erik’s thought, and that was when the towel rack acquired a mind of its own and pinioned him to the tiles a few feet up the wall.
“Bet you couldn’t see that coming,” Erik hissed, and then the other mutant was gently lifting his legs so they rested on his shoulders, and after another flash of that grin the mouth had wrapped around the base of his cock and he was lost, utterly lost again in the mind-blowing suction, and thought, “So that’s what they mean by mind-blowing,” a bit too loudly, because Erik’s mind whispered, “Thanks.”
“I’ve never been able to talk to someone who was - giving me a blow job,” Charles thought, and Erik’s mind answered, “You could talk to them, but I doubt they had much to say in response.”
“Rude to talk with your mouth full,” he murmured, thrusting helplessly into those remarkable lips, gripping the shoulders with his hands to steady the other man, and then he’d let go. And as he released he couldn’t help pushing into Erik’s mind as hard as he could, feeling the triumph between those blue eyes as he exploded into his throat.
“Let me down,” he hissed. “Let me down,” and then the towel rack returned to its original station and he slid bonelessly down the tiles and thought, “If I could see myself now,” but the expression on Erik’s face was sheer exultant delight, in spite of his own swollen dick, and suddenly Charles wanted nothing more than to make Erik moan and succumb and had dropped to his knees in the tub and taken him in his mouth, and the gasp that accompanied this motion told him without any telepathy at all that this was exactly what was called for.
He felt around in Erik’s mind to see how he liked it - gently, but fast, and began to establish a rhythm, sucking and licking and gazing up at Erik through his lashes and smiling when their eyes met, and Erik was thrusting hard into him and hissing, “Charles, God, how do you know exactly what I - oh of course, oh God, too perfect.”
He could feel Erik nearing the brink and he asked, “You’re going to?” and Erik cried, “No, I want to be in you when I do,” and pulled himself away with a disappointed whimper.
And then he was making the preparations in feverish haste, the metal container suddenly in his hand as though it had flown through the wall, and he felt the teasing fingers test his entrance, push into him, and then depart, and then Erik filled him and he was thrusting back against him with wild abandon and he felt the German’s hands steadying his hips, and Erik choked out something in incomprehensible German that turned out to mean, “Brilliant!” as he thrust.
They climaxed together, panting, and Erik sagged against him and sighed, “Sorry to ruin your shower.”
“Please ruin every shower,” Charles panted back, pulling Erik’s hand from his hip and kissing the long nervy fingers.
Then they’d actually showered.
“If we keep this up I’m not going to be able to walk ever again,” Charles complained as they toweled off.
“Do you mind?” Erik asked, shooting him that grin.
“What’s everyone going to think when I’m limping everywhere like a - one of those people who limps everywhere?"
“You could ride about in a bath chair.”
“That’s stupid.”
“I haven’t noticed you asking me to stop.”
Charles smirked. Their eyes met, blue on blue, both grinning. Erik raked his eyes up and down Charles' form and closed the distance between them with a stride and pulled Charles into his arms and kissed the top of his head, the impress of his lips warm in Charles' damp hair. "As a matter of fact I don't believe I could ask you to stop," Charles whispered.
"Good."
Part Four, the Final Chapter!
Pairing: Erik/Charles
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: This doesn't advance the plot. Assuming there was a plot. This is just some gratuitous shower sex. #isshowersexevertrulygratuitous?
Crossposted at 1stclass_kink in response to the Bromance World Tour prompt
Part One, Part Two, Part Three
That was how it was going to go, they knew, and the next morning he awoke sore and sticky in Erik Lensherr’s double bed and had the momentary panic of awakening somewhere logical but unexpected, with warm arms around his waist and a chin nestled against the back of his neck.
“Morning,” Erik said, fuzzily, into his ear.
“Did I put your arm to sleep?” Charles asked, instinctively, noticing their position, and Erik laughed.
“Good morning to you too, my adorable telepath,” he said, and there was that kick of delight in the base of Charles’ chest. “How has the first night of the mission, codenamed We Fuck Around The Country Finding Mutants, been for you?”
“An unmitigated success,” Charles said, grinning back at him.
“You had no idea this was going to happen, did you?” Erik said, those blue eyes peering questioningly into his, and for a non-telepath he was again oddly close to the mark. “You only knew you wanted me, not how.”
“Sometimes we all surprise ourselves,” Charles answered. “Besides the bedroom is seldom the first place it occurs to me to look.”
“Of course, Professor,” Erik said.
“If you call me that I’m going to start referring to you by some equally asinine title,” Charles warned. “Like Magnet-Man.”
“Please don’t do that.” Erik licked his ear. “It makes me sound like a novelty toy at the bottom of a cereal box.”
“Erik we need to be in Delaware by half-past,” Charles laughed, trying to break free of the other mutant’s grip. “And I’ve really got to shower.”
“Shower, eh?” Erik’s grin had broadened from ear to ear. “Mind if I watch?”
Of course it had turned into more than watching.
Charles had lathered his torso for exactly one minute and was beginning to slip the soap downwards in what he admitted was not perhaps the least tantalizing manner possible, when Erik had thrown off his robe and slipped into the shower with him and switched the water unpleasantly cold.
“Erik, it’s positively Antarctic in here.”
“I like a cold shower. I find it bracing.”
Charles had turned to adjust the faucet and then felt a tongue press warmly against the back of his neck, and his whole body quivered with the sensation, the frigid water awakening all his pores, and he felt the familiar hum of building arousal and Erik’s voice hissed against his throat, “Still prefer your showers hot?” and he’d shuddered and nodded, and as Erik planted deliberate kisses down his neck and across his shoulder and asked, “Still?” he’d adjusted it warmer yet and nodded again and then Erik had shoved him up against the wall and pinioned both his arms and was grinning down at him and he heard the metal faucet squeal and felt the water turn cold again and muttered, “That’s not fair, Erik.”
“You like it,” Erik said, a strand of damp hair falling in his face, and he was so perfect in that moment that Charles felt his whole being give a great shrug and he heard himself saying, “I like it.”
“That’s the trouble with you, Charles,” Erik said, looking at him with an air of excess seriousness. “You don’t know your own mind.”
“Known yours,” Charles thought suddenly, pushing his way into the morning disarray of Erik’s thought, and that was when the towel rack acquired a mind of its own and pinioned him to the tiles a few feet up the wall.
“Bet you couldn’t see that coming,” Erik hissed, and then the other mutant was gently lifting his legs so they rested on his shoulders, and after another flash of that grin the mouth had wrapped around the base of his cock and he was lost, utterly lost again in the mind-blowing suction, and thought, “So that’s what they mean by mind-blowing,” a bit too loudly, because Erik’s mind whispered, “Thanks.”
“I’ve never been able to talk to someone who was - giving me a blow job,” Charles thought, and Erik’s mind answered, “You could talk to them, but I doubt they had much to say in response.”
“Rude to talk with your mouth full,” he murmured, thrusting helplessly into those remarkable lips, gripping the shoulders with his hands to steady the other man, and then he’d let go. And as he released he couldn’t help pushing into Erik’s mind as hard as he could, feeling the triumph between those blue eyes as he exploded into his throat.
“Let me down,” he hissed. “Let me down,” and then the towel rack returned to its original station and he slid bonelessly down the tiles and thought, “If I could see myself now,” but the expression on Erik’s face was sheer exultant delight, in spite of his own swollen dick, and suddenly Charles wanted nothing more than to make Erik moan and succumb and had dropped to his knees in the tub and taken him in his mouth, and the gasp that accompanied this motion told him without any telepathy at all that this was exactly what was called for.
He felt around in Erik’s mind to see how he liked it - gently, but fast, and began to establish a rhythm, sucking and licking and gazing up at Erik through his lashes and smiling when their eyes met, and Erik was thrusting hard into him and hissing, “Charles, God, how do you know exactly what I - oh of course, oh God, too perfect.”
He could feel Erik nearing the brink and he asked, “You’re going to?” and Erik cried, “No, I want to be in you when I do,” and pulled himself away with a disappointed whimper.
And then he was making the preparations in feverish haste, the metal container suddenly in his hand as though it had flown through the wall, and he felt the teasing fingers test his entrance, push into him, and then depart, and then Erik filled him and he was thrusting back against him with wild abandon and he felt the German’s hands steadying his hips, and Erik choked out something in incomprehensible German that turned out to mean, “Brilliant!” as he thrust.
They climaxed together, panting, and Erik sagged against him and sighed, “Sorry to ruin your shower.”
“Please ruin every shower,” Charles panted back, pulling Erik’s hand from his hip and kissing the long nervy fingers.
Then they’d actually showered.
“If we keep this up I’m not going to be able to walk ever again,” Charles complained as they toweled off.
“Do you mind?” Erik asked, shooting him that grin.
“What’s everyone going to think when I’m limping everywhere like a - one of those people who limps everywhere?"
“You could ride about in a bath chair.”
“That’s stupid.”
“I haven’t noticed you asking me to stop.”
Charles smirked. Their eyes met, blue on blue, both grinning. Erik raked his eyes up and down Charles' form and closed the distance between them with a stride and pulled Charles into his arms and kissed the top of his head, the impress of his lips warm in Charles' damp hair. "As a matter of fact I don't believe I could ask you to stop," Charles whispered.
"Good."
Part Four, the Final Chapter!