Prompt Post: ROUND FIVE

[oakenshields13]

ROUND FIVE IS CLOSED

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this is only now (where do we go from here) 12/?

[anonymous]

He waves at Scott as he pulls out into traffic and almost misses the man leaning against a motorbike parked under a tree across the school. The man's wearing sunglasses and smoking, which Hank spares a frown at. Smoking in such close proximity to children, some parents just have no shame.

*

In order to make it in time to his nine AM Intro to Bio class, Hank had to forgo coffee and nurse a massive caffeine headache for the better part of the morning, so when Charles pops in just as the last of his students file out at 12:01 with a smile and a,"Care for a cuppa, old man?" Hank nearly weeps in relief. That is not to say he doesn't shoot cutting glares at the possible obstacle the freshmen loitering just outside his door, making eyes at Charles, present.

Charles smiles at them, oblivious, blithely chattering at Hank all the way to the tiny indie cafe just outside campus grounds, keeping a steady stream of conversation consisting mainly of department gossip, how fantastic Charles's grad students are and fantastic news that will just have to wait until they're settled with coffee.

The little bell jangles when Hank pulls the door open and the girl at the counter beams. "Professor, hi!"

"Valextra," Charles returns, pleased, clasping both her hands in his. "How's your grandmum? Still in fighting form, I hope?"

Valextra squeezes back and, unprompted, goes about making Charles his coffee. "She's great. Getting back in the dating scene, you know? Kinda weird for me but, hey, everyone's got needs."

"That they do, love. Pleasure is in the mind, after all. While you're at it, would you mind making Hank here a -"

"Large quad shot latte, please, Val. And thanks." Hank smiles at her and she spares him an absent smile.

Hank touches Charles's elbow in passing, signaling that he's off to find a table because Charles can be at this for hours and a little part of Hank thinks that one of the reasons Erik finally gave in and decided to cohabit with him is Charles's easy way with people. Charles's default is to love everyone and everything while Erik's is suspicion and distrust. He would've failed epically as sheriff of their little county if he hadn't taken up with its most favoured son and inherited their goodwill by keeping Charles in a state of perpetual ecstasy.

Hank spots an unoccupied table by a window and makes a beeline for it, Charles and Valextra's voices (by now having devolved into a discussion on the merits of VR sex as seen in Demolition Man as opposed to the filthy kind) fading under the sound of the keytar-heavy music in the background.

He slumps heavily into the chair, pulling off his glasses and rubbing at the bridge of his nose. He leans his forehead against the cool glass of the window and contemplates taking a vacation somewhere warm and beachy and child-friendly. He and Scott need a vacation that doesn't constitute being smothered by his mother back home in Illinois or the French Riviera, as the Xaviers' guests, feeling painfully American and gauche.

He's thinking maybe Hawaii or Cuba while staring absently at the only person sitting out on the cafe patio, leant back in his chair, booted feet propped up on the one opposite, smoking a cigarette and nursing a cup of coffee, the very epitome of cool in his leather jacket and sunglasses when recognition hits him.

First comes shock, then fear, then angry indignation.

The little bell above the cafe's door rings merrily as he strides out, a strange juxtaposition to the roiling in his gut. He stops right in front of the man, blocking the sun.

The man takes a slow, deliberate drag of his cigarette and blows a plume of smoke out of the corner of his mouth. "Can I help you?" he finally says, tone disinterested.

Hank tries not to let that off-balance him. "You've been stalking me," he replies, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Have I?"

Hank feels himself go red with suppressed rage. "Yes. At the park, at my kid's school and now here."