Category: AU, Modern setting, still have powers, womens underwear, frottage, flirting (heavyhanded)
Summary: Apparently Erik is a filthy pervert. Who knew? Charles, recently moved into a flat in a larger building with mostly fellow mutants as tenants, is finally getting around to doing his laundry. As well as Raven's (mostly because she dumped it in with his). Thankfully, the laundry basement with its huge, rumbling industrial washing machines is empty late in the evening.
Or almost empty.
Series: Fic-A-Week Project 2014 - Week 40
- I'm very well aware that some might see Erik's move as slightly dub-con, though as Charles puts it, it's not like he can't stop him if he wants.
- Last week was a sickeningly sweet story. This should hopefully make up for that. (just wait till next week ;))
Word count: 2,069
Charles sorted through the laundry and pushed another one of Raven's lacy bras to the side. On the one hand she'd kill him if he ruined her clothes in the laundry, but on the other hand, she never asked him to do her laundry - she just dumped hers in with his.
As much as he loved and adored his sister, there were days where he wondered why they were sharing a flat. One reason, of course, was the ease of it. The other could be monetary, but Charles had access to the family fortune now that the Markos were out of the picture. It was just... Neither he nor Raven were used to having that much money and out of habit, they had made plans that would save money. It wasn't the cheapest flat, but it was a nice size for the both of them to share. Cooking wasn't a problem, tidying and cleaning - not a problem either. Laundry? Well, at least the place had its own laundry basement that was open 24/7. Which was a good thing as Charles only had what he was wearing and tomorrow was only Wednesday. And he had to be at Columbia at nine pm. Not enough time for him to try and get any of it done in the morning.
So doing laundry at nine in the evening it was. At least it meant most of the machines were available and he could run several at the same time.
The only other tenant using the machines was a man who was sitting in the corner by one of the tumble dryers, face hidden behind a newspaper. Charles divided the last of the clothes into the machines, making sure his sister's lacy underwear was on the right setting. As he switched the machine on, he was hit by a mental image that left him breathless for a moment. Mostly because he couldn't' tell where it'd had come from at first.
It was a hazy image in his mind of himself, wantonly leaning against one of the machines, wearing Raven's lacy underwear, accompanied by garter belt and thigh high silk stockings.
Charles steadied himself against the machine as it hummed to life. The images were followed by a wave of arousal and want - then it was gone, just as fast as it had appeared. It had been ages since Charles had had the time to devote himself to pursuing any sexual relationships and his body let him know in no small words that it, at least, was very appreciative of the rush of need.
Biting his lower lip, Charles fought the urge to cross his legs, his cock swelling against the rigidness of the his jeans. Now, had it only been arousal he'd felt, he'd have ignored it. But as it had been delivered with images of himself wearing the very underwear he'd just put into the machine...
Charles looked around, cautiously. The guy in the corner was still sitting behind his newspaper and Charles stared hard at him. He sat casually, leaned back in the chair, long legs, one bent over the other, ankle resting on the knee. Nothing. No reaction whatsoever.
Charles bit his lower lip and tried to get himself under control. It would be a while before the washing was done, and he should head back up to the flat to get some of his grading done. However, he wasn't keen on walking past the reading guy with a tent in his jeans. Not to mention, walking would be awkward in itself.
Still, he put the laundry soap on top of the machine, fumbling with the lid. When he turned his head, he found the newspaper guy had lowered his reading material and was staring at Charles, unblinkingly.
He was unfairly good looking and Charles felt a little self conscious in his own clothes, worn as they were. Of course all this fled when he felt the familiar rush of want hit him. The guy didn't take his eyes off Charles, lips slightly parted, pupils blown.
"I'm sorry," Charles managed to get out, "but-" How the hell did he broach this the best way. He was getting hit with a barrage of indecent images and he realized what he hadn't noticed before. The way his mind felt, the man was definitely a mutant, so maybe, just maybe- "Please understand that I didn't mean to overhear, but I'm a telepath-"
Charles stopped dead. The guy was still staring at him, and Charles felt pinned by his gaze as if it were a physical force.
"How- you were projecting!" Charles spluttered.
Holding up one finger, the guy grinned. "One, I knew - two new tenants - one a shapeshifter and one a telepath - and your girlfriend isn't exactly inconspicuous about her use of her gift." He stretched another finger - showing off long, strong fingers. "Two, I figured if you weren't, you wouldn't react at all - no harm done."
"Sister! She's my sister! You arse!" Charles couldn't' help raise his voice, glad that they were alone in the laundry basement.
The predatory grin the guy shot him stopped Charles dead. It really shouldn't be that hot.
"Even better." The guy stood in one fluid move, long legs and long in body, he towered over Charles when he stalked across the room, backing Charles against the rumbling washing machine. "I'm sure you could stop me if you wanted, am I right?"
Charles swallowed hard. Yeah, he could. Quite easily, even. Even if the guy's mind felt a little like liquid metal, mercury, like...
Self preservation, Charles managed to think, diving into the man's mind enough to get a feel of how much danger he was in. Erik's mind, the guy's name was Erik.
When Erik bent his head down, pressing his nose against Charles' neck, inhaling deeply, Charles had to lean back against the machine. This wasn't happening, it couldn't be. Biting his lower lip, Charles thought for a moment about shutting himself off from the naked want in Erik and his own body's reaction. However, when he finally drew breath to speak, what came out was "I can shut you down and make you think you're a five year old little girl who's long past her bedtime."
Erik put a hand on Charles' hip and moaned against his neck, breath hot and humid against Charles' skin. "That wasn't a 'no' to this."
Charles thought for a moment of all the things Raven would call him after this. Then again - Erik was delightfully straightforward, mutant and very obviously more turned on by Charles' powers than afraid of them.
Which in itself was a refreshing change.
Charles bit into his lip again as Erik pulled back. It had been ages since he'd been this turned on and if Charles had a type, Erik pinged a hell of a lot of the things on that list. Highest, though, was the 'not afraid of you and your mind powers, Charles Xavier'.
"Let me do that for you," Erik said.
Charles blinked in confusion. Then Erik reached up and put his thumb on Charles' lower lip, pulling it out from between Charles' teeth. He held Charles' gaze for a split second, then looked down at Charles' lips, obscenely long eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks before he leaned in and sunk his teeth into Charles' lower lip. Not hard enough to break skin, but more than enough to send another flood of sensation through Charles' body.
The bite turned into the filthiest kiss Charles had been at the receiving end of ...possibly ever. Mouth half open, panting against his, lips sliding over his, tongue wetting his lips and it was all that Charles could take, letting the washing machine behind him take his weight completely, fisting his hands in the sides of Erik's shirt, feeling skinny hips and strong tendons underneath the thin garment as he arched up against the thigh Erik had shoved between his legs.
The images he kept getting off Erik turned hazy, turned from fantasy images to reality, of Erik's reaction to pushing him even harder up against the unyielding washing machine.
"Have you ever tried on her underwear?"
Charles had to fight the waves of arousal and the constant pressure and release of Erik moving against him. "She'd kill me if I did." He did not offer to buy his own if-
The way Erik bore down against him, pushed him, whimpered into his mouth and frantically shoved his hands down the back of Charles' jeans, grabbing his arse in a bruising grip, told Charles that he may have projected that thought after all.
Charles, completely submerged in Erik's pleasure, sharing his own with the man, may have squeaked into the hard kiss. Erik pushed him against the machine even harder, lifting him off his feet and forcing him to hook one leg up over Erik's hip to hang on while he dug his fingers into Erik's shoulder blades, feeling the metal of the machine behind him hum and dig into his spine.
The upward spiral of their orgasms was higher and harder than Charles remember having experienced in ages. Mostly he always spent some part of his awareness on shielding himself, but since Erik had taken him by surprise and apparently appreciated his powers, then he simply let go, let it take him along for the ride.
Awareness made itself known a few moments later. Not just the sticky hotness in his boxers, but Erik sucking at his neck, obviously aiming for leaving a mark.
Charles let the leg he still had hooked over Erik's hip back down, feeling a little unsteady on his feet. He couldn't help but bite back a whimper when Erik finally pulled back, licking his already wet lips.
"Where the hell did you learn to project like that?" Charles managed to ask.
Erik huffed out a laugh, post-orgasm lending his sharp features a softness that only made him look more enticing to Charles. More appealing. "I've got a telepath friend who always thought it was easier to teach me to shield and to project on purpose instead of giving her a headache with what she called my 'stupidity'. And I wasn't sure if you'd notice I was doing it on purpose."
"I'm not stupid - you may have diverted my attention with your-." Charles bit back a smile. "But I can tell the difference when I try - between projections and stray thoughts."
Erik threw his head back, a deep heartfelt laughter thrumming through his body and mind. "You're a smart cookie, then."
"I should hope so - I teach genetics," Charles said defensively, still partly held up by Erik's warm, hard body. The rush of attraction clearly told him that Erik wasn't just into his powers, apparently he liked intelligent people too.
Erik eventually let him stand on his own, straightening his own clothes, but definitely looking like he'd just got some. Charles had no illusions as to his own appearance. He must look utterly used.
"Same time on Thursday?"
Charles stared at him. "Do you object to a bed?"
"I don't go to bed with people after one date!" Erik looked positively scandalized, but there was laughter in his eyes as well, the crows feet at the corners of his eyes belying his outrage.
Charles stared at him in disbelief. "You're really fucked up, Erik." He couldn't quite stop a laugh from escaping. To consider this a date.
"Thursday," Erik said decisively. "Then you can come up to my apartment Friday and you can stay for breakfast on Saturday."
Raising an eyebrow at him, Charles beat down the rush of heat to his stomach. "Very sure of yourself - bit of a control freak, are you?"
Erik just ignored the comment. "I'll even give you a show of what I can do on Friday night."
Charles' mouth ran dry. "Yeah?"
Erik winked at him, turned to leave and waved his hand a little, making the change in Charles' pocket jingle.
Charles spent the rest of the laundry session with sticky underwear and an imagination cycling through what magnificently dirty things Erik's powers could be used for. Seemed he wasn't the only one getting turned on by the other's display of power. Not to mention the cloud of smugness he could still feel from Erik, several floors above. Of all things, it really shouldn't be a turn on.