[fic] x-men: first class - first dates - charles/erik, emma
Title: First Dates
Rating: G
Pairing/Characters: Charles/Erik, Emma
Word Count: ~6000
Summary: Modern AU, still-powered. Emma and Charles are old friends from prep school/college. Erik and Emma are setup on a blind date that goes terribly. This is how Erik meets Charles, and the story of his and Charles' first date.
Note: This is what would happen if I wrote a romance. I gave Erik resistance to telepathy, since that is canon somewhere.
The first time Erik and Charles met Erik was on his one and only date with Emma Frost.
-
“I need you to come with me,” Emma said as soon as Charles picked up the phone.
“To where?” Charles asked.
“Blind date. I need you there in case I need an out,” Emma said, since she wanted to plan ahead.
Charles was mildly surprised. “You agreed to go on a blind date.”
There was a reason why Emma never went on blind dates: other people’s taste simply could not be trusted. This was an exception that she hoped wouldn’t be too disastrous. Emma sighed. “Azazel was insistent, and he normally doesn't ask for too much. Now he owes me.”
Laughing, Charles asked, “What did you find out about the guy?”
“That he's good-looking and kind of an asshole. So it could go either way.”
“That sounds promising. Where are you planning to go?”
“I don't know. Probably some bar, that way you won’t seem pathetic playing emergency exit.”
“Thanks. You’re always so considerate.”
“You can pick if he doesn’t come up with anything.”
“What time were you planning on this date happening?”
“Eight. Think you can manage to stay awake that long?”
“I’m jet lagged, Emma, but still functional.”
“Then you’ll come along?”
“Yes. What’s his name?”
“Erik Lehnsherr.”
-
Unlike Charles, Emma didn't like surprises. In fact, she hated them, which was why within five minutes of meeting her date she already couldn't stand him.
Erik smirked from across the table. They were seated at a booth in an area a further distance from the bar. “I can tell what you're trying to do and it isn't going to work.”
Emma gave him an arch look. “You've had training,” she said, and it wasn't a question.
“A combination of that and my own hidden talents,” Erik said, making a languid gesture with one hand and lifting Emma's silver lighter out of her pocketbook. She scowled at him and tried to pluck it back midair, but met more resistance than she was expecting.
“You could have kept them hidden,” Emma said curtly. She could still probably rip through whatever mental defenses Erik possessed if she put enough effort into it, but she didn't really like him so there wasn't any point in expending the energy.
Erik grinned and released her lighter. “So what were you trying to find out about me?”
“Whether or not you were a waste of time.”
“You don't want to add mystery to your life?”
“Not particularly.”
“You can get to know me the old-fashioned way,” Erik said, though he didn't really sound that interested.
Emma was annoyed enough that she didn't feel offended by Erik's apparent indifference. “I guess we should at least try.”
The two hours that counted for “trying” were like squeezing blood from a handsome but completely insufferable rock. There were more people down in the bar area and it wasn't one she was familiar with. Charles had picked it, seemingly at random, since Erik hadn't suggested anything and Emma didn't want to go to any of her usual places in case the evening was one better off forgotten. Fortunately, Charles was generally easy enough for her to pick out of any crowd, so it didn’t take her long to find him and speak into his mind: How drunk are you right now?
Somewhere between reasonably and thoroughly. How's the date going?
Less than thrilling. Give me an out.
Of course, darling.
They had done this for each other previously to get out of obligations neither of them wanted to deal with. The telepathic distress signal was convenient in its discretion. Normally, this would be when Charles would call her and make up some kind of emergency. He seemed to have a different idea in mind this time, though, since he was soon approaching their table. Knowing him, he probably wanted to see Erik for himself. “Emma! Imagine running into you here,” Charles said, smiling at her, then at Erik.
Erik looked amused, like he didn't think this was a coincidence at all. Emma couldn't blame him, though she could tell Charles was trying his best to exude the impression of being drunkenly innocent and it might have worked if Erik weren't shielded. “Charles, this is Erik. Erik, this is Charles,” Emma said as way of introduction once Charles slid into the booth next to her.
“Charles Xavier,” Charles felt the need to elaborate and extended one hand to Erik. “Very nice to meet you.”
Erik shook Charles' hand and smiled a little more genuinely than he had all evening. “Erik Lehnsherr,” he said, holding Charles' hand a moment too long before releasing it. Emma made a mental note to have words with Azazel the next time she saw him, though she now wondered why Erik even agreed to go out with her in the first place. Then again, her own motives weren't exactly invested in the date itself.
The impression she had of Charles was already warm and a little fuzzy, but grew all the more so from the contact with Erik. Emma inwardly groaned. She didn't want Charles to be interested, since by association she would likely have to start seeing more of Erik when she was already in the middle of trying to escape her date with him. “What are you up to tonight, Charles?” Emma asked aloud, then commanded irritably, Get me out of here.
He seems utterly charming, Charles threw in her direction. “You know. Watching the sport that's on right now. There were bats involved,” Charles said, taking a drink of whatever he had last ordered.
All he has said to you is his name, Emma returned crossly. This was perhaps the wrong thing to say, since Charles put his glass down and leaned forward and rested his chin on his palm and extended his fingers toward his temple. Don't, he can - Emma started to add, but not in time.
Erik blinked, then quirked a brow at Charles. “So, two telepaths in one night. Fascinating.”
Oh, hell, Emma thought, since the way Charles' expression brightened was impossible to miss and his excitement was palpable.
“I can't read your mind!” Charles exclaimed to Erik, a little too loudly, since some of the people in the nearby vicinity looked at them curiously and Emma batted their attention away without a second thought.
Erik chuckled. “I take it you approve, unlike Emma, then.”
Charles was smiling to the point he looked foolish. It often made Emma feel like hitting him, but she knew a lot of people found that endearing. “I don't - I don't get too many surprises, and you aren't even wearing a ridiculous headpiece like Shaw used to,” Charles said, though the latter was directed more toward Emma.
Emma scowled at Charles. No, but he's full of himself and just as bothersome. “Yes, well, Sebastian had other charms,” she said, feeling that Erik did not.
“No, Emma - Emma, he was insane,” Charles said to her earnestly. “He wanted to build a submarine so he could then spend more time hunting polar bears. I never even figured out why those two things were related.”
There were many issues explaining Sebastian's plans to Charles when he was sober, and Emma didn't care enough to try even then, but it wasn't really a topic that needed to be brought up at all now. “They weren't. You're just conflating things.”
Erik snorted, seemingly entertained. “I can assure you I have no aspirations that involve submarines or polar bears,” he said to Charles.
“Good!” Charles' attention volleyed back to Erik once more. Emma weighed the merits of murdering one of her closest friends. “I think we should get to know you better,” Charles declared.
I am going to smother you in your sleep if you keep on this, Emma threatened.
Charles frowned at her, and she gave him a reminder why he was even there in the first place. Oh, right.
“I think Emma and I have learned all we need to about each other,” Erik said, smiling thinly.
Emma barely resisted the urge to make a rude gesture at him, though she said, “Yes, we most certainly have.”
Charles frowned and finished off his drink. Before he could reach the point of pouting, Erik said, “Though if you'd like, I'll give you my number.” That part was directed solely to Charles.
Despite the apologetic thought Charles sent Emma's way, he enthused, “I would like that.” He reached into his pocket to pull out his phone, but instead of successfully retrieving it he dropped it beneath the table. Before either Emma or Erik - who were both in far better possession of their coordination - could move to pick it up, Charles was ducking beneath the table.
This could only end poorly. Emma started counting down in her head. Three, two, one...
“Ow!” The table jostled as Charles tried to straighten up and instead smacked the his head into it.
Emma sighed and entered Charles' mind to get him sitting up properly once more, making sure as well that he wasn't significantly injured. “On that note, I think I need to get Charles back home before he hurts himself,” she said, since there was at least that.
“I am perfectly fine,” Charles mumbled, rubbing the back of his head. “I think there's some gum in my hair now.”
Nevertheless, Emma nudged him to get to his feet and Charles complied. She took his arm to steady him; to her irritation, Erik rose as well. “I'll help you get him back,” he offered.
“That's very nice of you,” Charles said.
“There's really no need to,” Emma said, and though Charles was pliant it made him difficult to move quickly. “We'll get a cab right outside.”
“I insist,” Erik said, catching the eye of their waitress and signaling her over so they could get their bill. When she brought it over he glanced at the check then pulled out the necessary money to leave it on the table. “Have you closed your tab?” he asked Charles.
“Before I came over,” Charles said. “Since I knew Emma wanted to leave.”
Emma rolled her eyes. Maybe it would be a good idea to have Erik help them along, since she was tempted to just dump Charles on the street. Then again, this was about typical for Charles. It was Erik who was the confounding factor, since she couldn't simply erase whatever she needed to from his memory. “Let's just go. You can do whatever you want,” Emma said to Erik.
Erik followed them outside and hailed a taxi. He helped her get Charles into it, then they each took a seat on either side of Charles. Emma gave her address a little reluctantly, but there wasn’t any alternative. On the way there, Charles started to doze off with his head on Erik's shoulder, but was jolted awake by the cab going over a bump, and proceeded to ramble about neurons and dwarf stars and a movie which didn't actually exist. For whatever reason Erik didn't seem to mind that much, or at least didn’t tell Charles to shut up; Emma was just used to it.
“And that is why the film will end with Emma and I owning the moon,” Charles finished as the taxi drew up to the curb outside Emma's condo.
Emma paid the driver while Erik helped Charles out of the car. This time Erik kept an arm looped around Charles' shoulders and waited for Emma to lead the way inside. They took the elevator up to her floor and she directed the way to the guest bedroom where Charles was staying for the time being. Erik helped Charles to the bed, but before he could withdraw too far Charles latched on to one of Erik's wrists and smiled up at him. “You have really nice arms,” Charles said. “I thought you should know that.”
Erik laughed and gently freed himself from Charles’ hold. “Thank you.”
Emma started to pick through Charles’ thoughts and Charles didn’t try to stop her. It wasn’t that she had any interest what was on Charles’ mind, since it was a lot of sincere nonsense about why he already liked Erik upon first impression, but rather she wanted to find his natural exhaustion and lingering jet lag to exploit. “I really mean it,” Charles said.
“Maybe you can tell me again when you’re sober.”
Ordering Charles to sleep didn’t usually work, but making him more aware of already present drowsiness did. Emma proceeded with this now. It was one of the things that wasn’t off-limits in terms of Emma messing around in his head, though she rarely did it. “Charles, I don’t think we should keep Erik any longer.”
“I disagree. We should keep him for a long -” Charles yawned and lay back on the bed “- long time. He can stay in my room.”
That decidedly would not happen since Charles’ room was still part of Emma’s home. “I think you should sleep on it first.”
“Yeah, maybe that’s a good idea,” Charles agreed, closing his eyes. “Good night, Emma and Erik.”
“Good night, Charles,” Erik said, then, at last, looked at Emma. “I guess this is the part where I should leave.”
Emma gestured for Erik to follow her out of Charles’ room.“No, that part was when we left the bar. But thank you, I guess,” Emma said.
“You’re welcome,” Erik said drily. “I suppose it’s safe to say that neither of us are interested in a second date.”
“Dear God no,” Emma said with a deprecating laugh.
“Perfect. Here,” Erik said, extending his phone to Emma. Except it wasn’t his phone, it was Charles’, unless Erik had the same horrible fractal background Charles used.
“You were going to steal Charles’ phone otherwise?” Emma asked with distaste, wondering if she needed to check for anything else, since she wasn’t even sure when Erik would have pocketed it.
“No, I left my number for him,” Erik said, smiling in a way best described as sardonic. “And you don’t have to worry. Theft isn’t one of my favored vices.”
Emma rolled her eyes. “That’s so very reassuring,” she said as she took the proffered phone. “You can see yourself out. I assume you can operate the elevator and find your way back to the street.”
“It was a pleasure to meet both of you,” Erik said, heading out into the hall.
“The next time I see you will be too soon. Goodbye, Erik,” Emma said, shutting the door as soon as he was on his way. That part dispensed with, she unlocked Charles’ phone, found the new entry, and promptly erased Erik’s number before tossing it onto the sofa. Now it was time for a very long bath and a very good bottle of wine.
-
The next day Charles woke to a headache and mid-morning sunlight flooding his room. He remembered everything that had happened the night before and buried his face in his pillow, feeling a little embarrassed. He had been rather obvious about Erik from the point he had met him onward. Then again, Erik hadn't seemed that put out about it; Charles really couldn't fathom why Emma wasn't willing to give Erik more of a chance, but at the same time was glad this was the case.
Charles shuffled into the bathroom to take some aspirin and a hot shower. He felt marginally more human afterward and went into the kitchen to make tea and toast. Emma was already there, seated on a bar stool at the counter and doing a crossword puzzle. “Good morning,” Charles said as he put water in the kettle.
“I'm amazed you're up before noon,” Emma said, not looking at him.
“I wasn't that far gone.”
“It was far enough.”
“Are you cross with me?” Charles asked, reaching out toward her mind experimentally.
Emma's eyes narrowed and Charles' attempt met the equivalent to a brick wall. He could have tried to knock it down, but the message was clear enough. “Don't ask stupid questions,” she said.
Charles sent an exasperated look Emma's way as he set the kettle to boil and began to rummage through her tea collection. “You didn't seem to like Erik.”
“Exactly. I didn't, which is why I don't want to see more of him. Also, it's bad form,” Emma said. She only resorted to manners when they added to her argument.
“Over the years we've known each other, you've stolen just as many dates from me as I have from you,” Charles pointed out. “And you don't have to see him more; I'm the one who wants to.”
Emma looked thoughtful for a moment as though she were doing the mental tally. She probably was. “I'll concede the first point, but not the second. You're staying here for the summer, so inevitably our paths would cross.”
“I put up with Shaw while you dated him,” Charles said.
“You were in Oxford for most of that time and even then you still didn't like it,” Emma said. “So I'm learning from your mistake.”
Charles laughed. “I just want to get to know him better,” he said, though they both knew it was more than that.
“It might be beside the point. How are you even planning to contact him?” Emma asked, then added quickly, “I'm not giving you his number. I already erased it.”
That was, at least, a more legitimate issue. He remembered Erik offering it, but he didn't remember actually getting it. “Where's my phone?”
“On the couch. You lost it somewhere along the way to your room,” Emma said.
That wasn't part Charles remembered, but he went over and found it where Emma said it would be. There were emails from his mother and Moira separately that he skim read and made a note to respond to later. The generic notifications from school he deleted without bothering to open. Nothing else, though, which was slightly disappointing. Emma seemed to catch on to that. “Maybe Erik doesn't want to hear from you,” she said.
“He seemed receptive last night,” Charles said doubtfully, moving to turn off the burner when the kettle began to whistle.
“You came on stronger toward the end,” Emma said.
He poured water into his mug and then retrieved the bread to put in the toaster. “I still don't remember any negative responses.”
“Because you are incredibly observant when you're drunk,” Emma countered.
Charles frowned, knowing she had a point. Normally he would skim over Emma's memories in the event that she were there with him, but that wasn't an option at the moment. “I remember everything that happened up until the point of falling asleep.”
“That doesn't mean you were reading him correctly.”
Charles made a thoughtful sound, but didn't say anything since then his toast was ready and he moved to seat himself beside Emma after grabbing the jam. He was fairly confident that Emma was just trying to dissuade him; the main problem was figuring out how to contact Erik without coming off creepy while Emma was being uncooperative. She went back to finishing her crossword puzzle while Charles ate and then washed his dishes. He was in the process of wiping his hands on a towel when his phone began to ring, displaying an unknown number.
Curious, he answered. “This is Charles Xavier.”
“This is Erik Lehnsherr,” the voice on the other end said, amused and slightly mocking.
“Erik,” Charles said, smiling wide. Emma looked up sharply, frowning. “How good to hear from you.”
Hang up, Emma ordered, but Charles shoved the thought away.
Be nice.
I'm never nice.
“I considered waiting for you to call, but I'm not very patient,” Erik said.
Charles smiled. “A good thing, since I don't seem to have your number.”
“Is that so. I left it for you,” Erik said, though he didn't sound surprised.
“That's strange,” Charles said, sending a suspicious look Emma's way. “Did Emma give you my number?” he asked, though he already knew that was a negative.
“No, I took it off your phone.”
“That's a little unnerving,” Charles said, bemused.
“I didn't trust Emma and you were out of it.”
“Those are valid points.”
“It's short notice, but do you have plans tonight?”
“I might, if you're asking me out right now,” Charles said, grinning and ignoring the face Emma made at him.
“Then you do,” Erik said. “Would you like to have dinner later?”
Charles tried, and mostly failed, to suppress the sudden feeling of pleasant anticipation that arose from what, objectively, was a simple inquiry. “I'd love to.”
“Meet me at the Common around seven. By the equestrian statue.”
“All right.”
“I'll see you then,” Erik said, ending the call.
Charles turned towards Emma. His expression was at odds with how he was feeling: he was irritated that she hadn't told him the complete truth, but he couldn't readily stop smiling now that he knew he would get to see Erik later that day.
“He left me his number and you knew it,” Charles said as flatly as he could manage while composed himself.
Emma met his gaze evenly. “I never said that he didn't. I asked you how you planned to contact him.”
“Thus you were extremely misleading. Did you just toss it after he gave it to you?”
“He added it to your phone. I erased it, which I told you. I just didn't specify that it was your phone I erased it from,” Emma said, completely unapologetic.
Charles frowned at her. “That's a bit much, even from you.”
“Personal dislike aside, I honestly don't think he should be trusted,” Emma said.
“You still took it farther than was necessary,” Charles insisted.
Emma raised a brow at him. “It's still nowhere near as bad as you convincing Sebastian that the way to win my heart was to have twelve dozen potted peonies delivered to me. There was dirt everywhere. I almost killed him on sight without getting an explanation.”
Despite himself, Charles grinned at the memory. “You ended up with him anyway.”
“And now you're getting your date with Erik,” Emma said. “I won't interfere further without justifiable cause.”
This time Emma let him in when Charles nudged her mind with his own. Emma really was telling the truth, and even if her methods were questionable at best and largely self-serving, she also genuinely cared about his well-being in her own way. Charles conveyed his own excitement and confidence and reassurance that really, he would be fine, and that he wouldn't bring Erik back to the condo without her permission. Emma didn't look fully convinced, but she relented and smiled at him. “If this goes terribly one day remember that I warned you.”
Charles laughed. “I'll keep that in mind.”
-
Later in the day, Erik sent Charles a text: Should have asked earlier. What kind of food will you eat?
Charles responded with: Anything except quiche.
-
Charles was about to leave when Emma caught sight of him, sighed, turned him around, and guided him back to his room. “I swear, whenever you want to impress someone you forget how to dress yourself. Even though I'm opposed, I can't let you leave my home like this,” Emma said while she started going through his closet. “You're meeting a date in a park, not going on a job interview.” She eyed a pair of his jeans critically, deemed them acceptable, and threw them at him before starting in on his shirts. “Also, it's summer. No wool, even at night.”
-
Even with Emma making him change his clothing Charles arrived about fifteen minutes before the scheduled time. He had arrived early in the hopes of calming his nerves some; this in effect happened when he discovered that Erik was already there, too, so any worries about appearing overeager dissipated. It seemed he had spotted Erik first and Charles took a moment to properly look him over. There was a tense energy to the way he held himself even in the act of waiting, as though he might take off at any instant. He was long lines and sharp angles, lean but well-muscled from what Charles could tell.
Charles generally liked to think he wasn't that shallow, but Erik was undeniably gorgeous. He was also observant, since he caught sight of Charles while he was in the middle of staring, though Charles had attempted discretion. Erik's lips curled into a smirk and he lifted a hand. Charles gave a slight wave in return, his cheeks a little flush, as he went over to where Erik stood. “Hello. Have you been waiting long?” Charles asked.
“Not very.” This time, Erik blatantly let his gaze move over Charles in return and Charles tried to ignore the fluttering warmth in the pit of his stomach from so fully having Erik's attention. He was suddenly grateful that Emma had made him change, since otherwise he would have felt overdressed. “I have a place in mind for where we can eat, unless you're not hungry yet,” Erik continued.
“No, I'm starved, actually,” Charles said. He had spent most of the day distracted and when that happened he tended to overlook things like lunch.
“Then let's be off,” Erik said, a hand coming to rest upon Charles' elbow as he led him away from the park. Charles felt acutely aware of the light contact and Erik's proximity; it was silly, really, how strong of a reaction he was having to Erik over even the littlest thing. “The place we're going to is completely free of quiche or anything like it.”
Charles laughed, feeling at ease once again. “Thank you for the consideration.”
-
The restaurant Erik led him to was at first glance little more than a hole in the wall. Charles must have passed by it before without sparing a second thought, but he now followed Erik inside and downstairs to where there was atmospheric lighting and quirky décor. The place projected a feeling that was some bizarre mixture of bar, restaurant, and coffeehouse. They were seated in a mostly private corner and given menus. Charles observed aloud, “This is a much better place for a date than the one I picked yesterday.”
Erik snorted. “You picked it?”
Belatedly, Charles wondered if he should have kept that to himself. “Emma said I could since neither you nor she seemed to have a preference.”
“So that's why she suggested we meet at a sports bar.”
Charles shrugged. “I searched online for bars and picked the first place with positive reviews.”
“Do you put that much effort into everything you do?” Erik asked drily.
“No, only with other people's dating lives,” Charles responded lightly. “Much less with everything else.”
Erik grinned. “Impressive.”
“I like to think I am,” Charles said, closing his menu. “Do you have to use a lot of concentration to keep your thoughts shielded?”
Erik seemed to take the sudden turn in conversation easily. “Not anymore. It's basically become second nature over the years, though I have to expend more effort if anyone actively tries to get through.”
“I'm guessing that doesn't happen often.”
“You and Emma are the first in a long time.” The conversation paused as their waiter came over and took their dinner and drink orders; they decided to share a bottle of wine. “Did Emma tell you what else I can do?”
Charles shook his head. He had known it'd be better to learn any further details about Erik firsthand. “She wasn't exactly thrilled with me today.”
Erik laughed, not unkindly. “My fault, I'm guessing.”
“Yours and mine. So what other skills do you have to show me?”
“Many, but to start, this,” Erik said. He took out a coin of a denomination Charles didn't immediately recognize, which he proceeded to levitate and circle around his fingers before moving it to balance upright upon the back of Charles' hand and rolling it slowly towards his wrist.
The action sent a slight shiver down his spine and Charles smiled in delight from the casual demonstration. “Will I get to see more?”
“If tonight goes well,” Erik said, smugly. He made a gesture so the coin jumped back into his hand. The waiter brought their wine then and filled their glasses.
Charles lifted his glass towards Erik in toast. “Then here's to making it a good night.”
-
The wine was good, the food was better, and there wasn't any dearth of things to talk about between them. They ordered coffee for dessert and while Erik went to the toilet Charles noticed that there was a stack of games on one of the tables diagonal from them. “There's a chess set,” Charles said as Erik came back.
Erik gave him an amused look. “Does that mean you want to play?”
“Yes.”
Before Erik sat back down he grinned and retrieved the set to arrange on their table. Charles chose white for himself when Erik let him pick. They ended up going through several more cups of coffee and ordering a large white chocolate truffle. Normally Charles would have to do his best to block out, or at least pay minimal attention to, his opponents surface-level thoughts - it was no fun to win that way - but now he didn't have to and it allowed a greater degree of concentration.
The game went at a slow pace as they felt each other out, tried to anticipate and counter each move. Erik was the best opponent Charles had faced in a while, and the equal attention Erik invested in the game made him suspect that it was mutual. There was one instant of distraction: Charles was in the middle of sucking off a stray bit of syrup that had gotten on his fingertip and looked over to find Erik staring at him. It took him a moment to interpret Erik's gaze and when he did he flushed, which seemed to break his own focus for longer than it had Erik's.
The game ended unresolved, though, when their waiter apologetically came to the table with the bill. “Sorry guys, we need to close up. It's getting on past one now.”
Charles blinked, since it definitely didn't feel like they had been there for that many hours, but his watch confirmed this was true. Erik grabbed the check first and when Charles protested he said, “You can get the next time,” and the promise therein was an effective way to stop any argument.
-
It had been pleasantly warm downstairs, but the night air made Charles wish he had grabbed a jacket before leaving Emma's, even though it was the middle of summer. This became irrelevant when Erik wrapped his arm around Charles' shoulders - Erik radiated heat, or at least made Charles feel warmer on the inside. “We might be able to catch the last bus.”
“How would you feel about going for a walk instead?” Charles asked, looking up at him.
Erik smiled and they continued down the avenue. The walk ended up being an aimless wandering through parts of the city that were more or less familiar to each of them in different ways. They shared random details whenever something happened to come to mind.
-
“For my twenty-first birthday my friends brought me here,” Charles said, pointing to a Greek restaurant. “We were kicked out over a flambé incident.”
“Flambé incident?”
“We were having a discussion about what foods might be enhanced by setting them on fire. It escalated from there,” Charles said.
-
“I had a girlfriend who, for reasons still unknown to to me, liked making out in this particular public alleyway,” Erik said. “It's been the only time the numbering has come in useful.”
“I had a boyfriend like that, but with a cemetery. We didn't last,” Charles said.
-
“During finals I spent most of my free time in this bookstore,” Charles said. “I was on a first name basis with the cat.”
Erik looked at him curiously. “Does your telepathy work on cats?”
“Yes, but it always leaves me with a strong craving for fish, so I don't do it often.”
-
“I really love science,” Charles announced. They were waiting for a car to pass before crossing the street.
“Where did that come from?” Erik asked, looking at him with mild confusion.
“Nowhere,” Charles admitted, “But it's definitely something you should know about me.”
-
Charles paused as they approached a tall building made of glass. “It reeks of tourism, but I like the observation deck up on the top floor. Too bad it's closed now.”
Erik gave him a considering look. “That doesn't have to stop us.”
This was, evidently, not Erik's first time using his powers to work around security and surveillance systems. Charles mostly tried to stay out of his way and kept on the alert for security officers. When they approached, he gently nudged them back in the opposite direction and made it clear that there was no one there for them to apprehend, that it was simply a technical difficulty with the cameras, which needed to be resolved later in the sane hours of day. Erik grinned madly at him when he did this, but at least had the good sense to wait until they were safely on one of the elevators before he cupped Charles' face in his hands and brought their lips together.
We are going to be arrested. Our first date is going to end in a jail and I don't even care, Charles thought to himself, grasping the front of Erik's shirt as he kissed him back.
-
They stayed just long enough to enjoy the private view of the city and to kiss to a point that it was easy for Charles to push past the second wave of exhaustion and into giddiness. The process of sneaking back out seemed easier in comparison, though it might have been the feeling of elation that made everything else, like prison time, seem completely inconsequential.
They walked along further mostly in amicable silence. When the sun started to come up, Charles smiled at Erik. “How do you feel about getting breakfast?”
-
The first diner that was open provided them with a pile of greasy food to eat and several glasses of orange juice to drink. Erik began to build a replica of the Eiffel Tower out of butter knives, which made Charles glad that the borderline incoherence he felt appeared to be mutual. Erik had stolen all the cutlery he could find from the surrounding tables. “Our waitress thinks you're a magician,” Charles said after she came by and gave them more juice.
“I would never be a magician.”
“Why not?”
Erik gave him a look like it should be obvious. “Three reasons: bow-ties, top hats, and sugar-infused children.”
“There's nothing wrong with any of those things,” Charles said.
“I also have self-respect.”
-
They had now been out long enough that the train was running again. Erik stayed with him until they were in front of Emma's building. Charles held to his word and didn't invite Erik up, though there was a definite temptation. Erik didn't seem bothered by this, and instead drew Charles close again, one hand coming to rest on Charles' hip and the other tangling in Charles' hair as Charles met him readily for a goodbye kiss. He wrapped his arms around Erik's neck as the contact drew out and was coaxed into something deeper. Erik tasted like orange juice and something else indescribably distinct.
“So, about that second date,” Erik said, voice rougher.
“I'd say we should go now if I could stay awake longer,” Charles said, a little breathless.
Erik laughed and kissed him again, shorter this time, before they reluctantly drew apart from each other. “Call me later.”
-
Emma was in her robe and putting on her first pot of coffee when Charles entered. She looked him over and shook her head. “You're a lost cause, aren't you?”
Charles smiled. “Completely.”
Here it is on AO3.
Rating: G
Pairing/Characters: Charles/Erik, Emma
Word Count: ~6000
Summary: Modern AU, still-powered. Emma and Charles are old friends from prep school/college. Erik and Emma are setup on a blind date that goes terribly. This is how Erik meets Charles, and the story of his and Charles' first date.
Note: This is what would happen if I wrote a romance. I gave Erik resistance to telepathy, since that is canon somewhere.
The first time Erik and Charles met Erik was on his one and only date with Emma Frost.
-
“I need you to come with me,” Emma said as soon as Charles picked up the phone.
“To where?” Charles asked.
“Blind date. I need you there in case I need an out,” Emma said, since she wanted to plan ahead.
Charles was mildly surprised. “You agreed to go on a blind date.”
There was a reason why Emma never went on blind dates: other people’s taste simply could not be trusted. This was an exception that she hoped wouldn’t be too disastrous. Emma sighed. “Azazel was insistent, and he normally doesn't ask for too much. Now he owes me.”
Laughing, Charles asked, “What did you find out about the guy?”
“That he's good-looking and kind of an asshole. So it could go either way.”
“That sounds promising. Where are you planning to go?”
“I don't know. Probably some bar, that way you won’t seem pathetic playing emergency exit.”
“Thanks. You’re always so considerate.”
“You can pick if he doesn’t come up with anything.”
“What time were you planning on this date happening?”
“Eight. Think you can manage to stay awake that long?”
“I’m jet lagged, Emma, but still functional.”
“Then you’ll come along?”
“Yes. What’s his name?”
“Erik Lehnsherr.”
-
Unlike Charles, Emma didn't like surprises. In fact, she hated them, which was why within five minutes of meeting her date she already couldn't stand him.
Erik smirked from across the table. They were seated at a booth in an area a further distance from the bar. “I can tell what you're trying to do and it isn't going to work.”
Emma gave him an arch look. “You've had training,” she said, and it wasn't a question.
“A combination of that and my own hidden talents,” Erik said, making a languid gesture with one hand and lifting Emma's silver lighter out of her pocketbook. She scowled at him and tried to pluck it back midair, but met more resistance than she was expecting.
“You could have kept them hidden,” Emma said curtly. She could still probably rip through whatever mental defenses Erik possessed if she put enough effort into it, but she didn't really like him so there wasn't any point in expending the energy.
Erik grinned and released her lighter. “So what were you trying to find out about me?”
“Whether or not you were a waste of time.”
“You don't want to add mystery to your life?”
“Not particularly.”
“You can get to know me the old-fashioned way,” Erik said, though he didn't really sound that interested.
Emma was annoyed enough that she didn't feel offended by Erik's apparent indifference. “I guess we should at least try.”
The two hours that counted for “trying” were like squeezing blood from a handsome but completely insufferable rock. There were more people down in the bar area and it wasn't one she was familiar with. Charles had picked it, seemingly at random, since Erik hadn't suggested anything and Emma didn't want to go to any of her usual places in case the evening was one better off forgotten. Fortunately, Charles was generally easy enough for her to pick out of any crowd, so it didn’t take her long to find him and speak into his mind: How drunk are you right now?
Somewhere between reasonably and thoroughly. How's the date going?
Less than thrilling. Give me an out.
Of course, darling.
They had done this for each other previously to get out of obligations neither of them wanted to deal with. The telepathic distress signal was convenient in its discretion. Normally, this would be when Charles would call her and make up some kind of emergency. He seemed to have a different idea in mind this time, though, since he was soon approaching their table. Knowing him, he probably wanted to see Erik for himself. “Emma! Imagine running into you here,” Charles said, smiling at her, then at Erik.
Erik looked amused, like he didn't think this was a coincidence at all. Emma couldn't blame him, though she could tell Charles was trying his best to exude the impression of being drunkenly innocent and it might have worked if Erik weren't shielded. “Charles, this is Erik. Erik, this is Charles,” Emma said as way of introduction once Charles slid into the booth next to her.
“Charles Xavier,” Charles felt the need to elaborate and extended one hand to Erik. “Very nice to meet you.”
Erik shook Charles' hand and smiled a little more genuinely than he had all evening. “Erik Lehnsherr,” he said, holding Charles' hand a moment too long before releasing it. Emma made a mental note to have words with Azazel the next time she saw him, though she now wondered why Erik even agreed to go out with her in the first place. Then again, her own motives weren't exactly invested in the date itself.
The impression she had of Charles was already warm and a little fuzzy, but grew all the more so from the contact with Erik. Emma inwardly groaned. She didn't want Charles to be interested, since by association she would likely have to start seeing more of Erik when she was already in the middle of trying to escape her date with him. “What are you up to tonight, Charles?” Emma asked aloud, then commanded irritably, Get me out of here.
He seems utterly charming, Charles threw in her direction. “You know. Watching the sport that's on right now. There were bats involved,” Charles said, taking a drink of whatever he had last ordered.
All he has said to you is his name, Emma returned crossly. This was perhaps the wrong thing to say, since Charles put his glass down and leaned forward and rested his chin on his palm and extended his fingers toward his temple. Don't, he can - Emma started to add, but not in time.
Erik blinked, then quirked a brow at Charles. “So, two telepaths in one night. Fascinating.”
Oh, hell, Emma thought, since the way Charles' expression brightened was impossible to miss and his excitement was palpable.
“I can't read your mind!” Charles exclaimed to Erik, a little too loudly, since some of the people in the nearby vicinity looked at them curiously and Emma batted their attention away without a second thought.
Erik chuckled. “I take it you approve, unlike Emma, then.”
Charles was smiling to the point he looked foolish. It often made Emma feel like hitting him, but she knew a lot of people found that endearing. “I don't - I don't get too many surprises, and you aren't even wearing a ridiculous headpiece like Shaw used to,” Charles said, though the latter was directed more toward Emma.
Emma scowled at Charles. No, but he's full of himself and just as bothersome. “Yes, well, Sebastian had other charms,” she said, feeling that Erik did not.
“No, Emma - Emma, he was insane,” Charles said to her earnestly. “He wanted to build a submarine so he could then spend more time hunting polar bears. I never even figured out why those two things were related.”
There were many issues explaining Sebastian's plans to Charles when he was sober, and Emma didn't care enough to try even then, but it wasn't really a topic that needed to be brought up at all now. “They weren't. You're just conflating things.”
Erik snorted, seemingly entertained. “I can assure you I have no aspirations that involve submarines or polar bears,” he said to Charles.
“Good!” Charles' attention volleyed back to Erik once more. Emma weighed the merits of murdering one of her closest friends. “I think we should get to know you better,” Charles declared.
I am going to smother you in your sleep if you keep on this, Emma threatened.
Charles frowned at her, and she gave him a reminder why he was even there in the first place. Oh, right.
“I think Emma and I have learned all we need to about each other,” Erik said, smiling thinly.
Emma barely resisted the urge to make a rude gesture at him, though she said, “Yes, we most certainly have.”
Charles frowned and finished off his drink. Before he could reach the point of pouting, Erik said, “Though if you'd like, I'll give you my number.” That part was directed solely to Charles.
Despite the apologetic thought Charles sent Emma's way, he enthused, “I would like that.” He reached into his pocket to pull out his phone, but instead of successfully retrieving it he dropped it beneath the table. Before either Emma or Erik - who were both in far better possession of their coordination - could move to pick it up, Charles was ducking beneath the table.
This could only end poorly. Emma started counting down in her head. Three, two, one...
“Ow!” The table jostled as Charles tried to straighten up and instead smacked the his head into it.
Emma sighed and entered Charles' mind to get him sitting up properly once more, making sure as well that he wasn't significantly injured. “On that note, I think I need to get Charles back home before he hurts himself,” she said, since there was at least that.
“I am perfectly fine,” Charles mumbled, rubbing the back of his head. “I think there's some gum in my hair now.”
Nevertheless, Emma nudged him to get to his feet and Charles complied. She took his arm to steady him; to her irritation, Erik rose as well. “I'll help you get him back,” he offered.
“That's very nice of you,” Charles said.
“There's really no need to,” Emma said, and though Charles was pliant it made him difficult to move quickly. “We'll get a cab right outside.”
“I insist,” Erik said, catching the eye of their waitress and signaling her over so they could get their bill. When she brought it over he glanced at the check then pulled out the necessary money to leave it on the table. “Have you closed your tab?” he asked Charles.
“Before I came over,” Charles said. “Since I knew Emma wanted to leave.”
Emma rolled her eyes. Maybe it would be a good idea to have Erik help them along, since she was tempted to just dump Charles on the street. Then again, this was about typical for Charles. It was Erik who was the confounding factor, since she couldn't simply erase whatever she needed to from his memory. “Let's just go. You can do whatever you want,” Emma said to Erik.
Erik followed them outside and hailed a taxi. He helped her get Charles into it, then they each took a seat on either side of Charles. Emma gave her address a little reluctantly, but there wasn’t any alternative. On the way there, Charles started to doze off with his head on Erik's shoulder, but was jolted awake by the cab going over a bump, and proceeded to ramble about neurons and dwarf stars and a movie which didn't actually exist. For whatever reason Erik didn't seem to mind that much, or at least didn’t tell Charles to shut up; Emma was just used to it.
“And that is why the film will end with Emma and I owning the moon,” Charles finished as the taxi drew up to the curb outside Emma's condo.
Emma paid the driver while Erik helped Charles out of the car. This time Erik kept an arm looped around Charles' shoulders and waited for Emma to lead the way inside. They took the elevator up to her floor and she directed the way to the guest bedroom where Charles was staying for the time being. Erik helped Charles to the bed, but before he could withdraw too far Charles latched on to one of Erik's wrists and smiled up at him. “You have really nice arms,” Charles said. “I thought you should know that.”
Erik laughed and gently freed himself from Charles’ hold. “Thank you.”
Emma started to pick through Charles’ thoughts and Charles didn’t try to stop her. It wasn’t that she had any interest what was on Charles’ mind, since it was a lot of sincere nonsense about why he already liked Erik upon first impression, but rather she wanted to find his natural exhaustion and lingering jet lag to exploit. “I really mean it,” Charles said.
“Maybe you can tell me again when you’re sober.”
Ordering Charles to sleep didn’t usually work, but making him more aware of already present drowsiness did. Emma proceeded with this now. It was one of the things that wasn’t off-limits in terms of Emma messing around in his head, though she rarely did it. “Charles, I don’t think we should keep Erik any longer.”
“I disagree. We should keep him for a long -” Charles yawned and lay back on the bed “- long time. He can stay in my room.”
That decidedly would not happen since Charles’ room was still part of Emma’s home. “I think you should sleep on it first.”
“Yeah, maybe that’s a good idea,” Charles agreed, closing his eyes. “Good night, Emma and Erik.”
“Good night, Charles,” Erik said, then, at last, looked at Emma. “I guess this is the part where I should leave.”
Emma gestured for Erik to follow her out of Charles’ room.“No, that part was when we left the bar. But thank you, I guess,” Emma said.
“You’re welcome,” Erik said drily. “I suppose it’s safe to say that neither of us are interested in a second date.”
“Dear God no,” Emma said with a deprecating laugh.
“Perfect. Here,” Erik said, extending his phone to Emma. Except it wasn’t his phone, it was Charles’, unless Erik had the same horrible fractal background Charles used.
“You were going to steal Charles’ phone otherwise?” Emma asked with distaste, wondering if she needed to check for anything else, since she wasn’t even sure when Erik would have pocketed it.
“No, I left my number for him,” Erik said, smiling in a way best described as sardonic. “And you don’t have to worry. Theft isn’t one of my favored vices.”
Emma rolled her eyes. “That’s so very reassuring,” she said as she took the proffered phone. “You can see yourself out. I assume you can operate the elevator and find your way back to the street.”
“It was a pleasure to meet both of you,” Erik said, heading out into the hall.
“The next time I see you will be too soon. Goodbye, Erik,” Emma said, shutting the door as soon as he was on his way. That part dispensed with, she unlocked Charles’ phone, found the new entry, and promptly erased Erik’s number before tossing it onto the sofa. Now it was time for a very long bath and a very good bottle of wine.
-
The next day Charles woke to a headache and mid-morning sunlight flooding his room. He remembered everything that had happened the night before and buried his face in his pillow, feeling a little embarrassed. He had been rather obvious about Erik from the point he had met him onward. Then again, Erik hadn't seemed that put out about it; Charles really couldn't fathom why Emma wasn't willing to give Erik more of a chance, but at the same time was glad this was the case.
Charles shuffled into the bathroom to take some aspirin and a hot shower. He felt marginally more human afterward and went into the kitchen to make tea and toast. Emma was already there, seated on a bar stool at the counter and doing a crossword puzzle. “Good morning,” Charles said as he put water in the kettle.
“I'm amazed you're up before noon,” Emma said, not looking at him.
“I wasn't that far gone.”
“It was far enough.”
“Are you cross with me?” Charles asked, reaching out toward her mind experimentally.
Emma's eyes narrowed and Charles' attempt met the equivalent to a brick wall. He could have tried to knock it down, but the message was clear enough. “Don't ask stupid questions,” she said.
Charles sent an exasperated look Emma's way as he set the kettle to boil and began to rummage through her tea collection. “You didn't seem to like Erik.”
“Exactly. I didn't, which is why I don't want to see more of him. Also, it's bad form,” Emma said. She only resorted to manners when they added to her argument.
“Over the years we've known each other, you've stolen just as many dates from me as I have from you,” Charles pointed out. “And you don't have to see him more; I'm the one who wants to.”
Emma looked thoughtful for a moment as though she were doing the mental tally. She probably was. “I'll concede the first point, but not the second. You're staying here for the summer, so inevitably our paths would cross.”
“I put up with Shaw while you dated him,” Charles said.
“You were in Oxford for most of that time and even then you still didn't like it,” Emma said. “So I'm learning from your mistake.”
Charles laughed. “I just want to get to know him better,” he said, though they both knew it was more than that.
“It might be beside the point. How are you even planning to contact him?” Emma asked, then added quickly, “I'm not giving you his number. I already erased it.”
That was, at least, a more legitimate issue. He remembered Erik offering it, but he didn't remember actually getting it. “Where's my phone?”
“On the couch. You lost it somewhere along the way to your room,” Emma said.
That wasn't part Charles remembered, but he went over and found it where Emma said it would be. There were emails from his mother and Moira separately that he skim read and made a note to respond to later. The generic notifications from school he deleted without bothering to open. Nothing else, though, which was slightly disappointing. Emma seemed to catch on to that. “Maybe Erik doesn't want to hear from you,” she said.
“He seemed receptive last night,” Charles said doubtfully, moving to turn off the burner when the kettle began to whistle.
“You came on stronger toward the end,” Emma said.
He poured water into his mug and then retrieved the bread to put in the toaster. “I still don't remember any negative responses.”
“Because you are incredibly observant when you're drunk,” Emma countered.
Charles frowned, knowing she had a point. Normally he would skim over Emma's memories in the event that she were there with him, but that wasn't an option at the moment. “I remember everything that happened up until the point of falling asleep.”
“That doesn't mean you were reading him correctly.”
Charles made a thoughtful sound, but didn't say anything since then his toast was ready and he moved to seat himself beside Emma after grabbing the jam. He was fairly confident that Emma was just trying to dissuade him; the main problem was figuring out how to contact Erik without coming off creepy while Emma was being uncooperative. She went back to finishing her crossword puzzle while Charles ate and then washed his dishes. He was in the process of wiping his hands on a towel when his phone began to ring, displaying an unknown number.
Curious, he answered. “This is Charles Xavier.”
“This is Erik Lehnsherr,” the voice on the other end said, amused and slightly mocking.
“Erik,” Charles said, smiling wide. Emma looked up sharply, frowning. “How good to hear from you.”
Hang up, Emma ordered, but Charles shoved the thought away.
Be nice.
I'm never nice.
“I considered waiting for you to call, but I'm not very patient,” Erik said.
Charles smiled. “A good thing, since I don't seem to have your number.”
“Is that so. I left it for you,” Erik said, though he didn't sound surprised.
“That's strange,” Charles said, sending a suspicious look Emma's way. “Did Emma give you my number?” he asked, though he already knew that was a negative.
“No, I took it off your phone.”
“That's a little unnerving,” Charles said, bemused.
“I didn't trust Emma and you were out of it.”
“Those are valid points.”
“It's short notice, but do you have plans tonight?”
“I might, if you're asking me out right now,” Charles said, grinning and ignoring the face Emma made at him.
“Then you do,” Erik said. “Would you like to have dinner later?”
Charles tried, and mostly failed, to suppress the sudden feeling of pleasant anticipation that arose from what, objectively, was a simple inquiry. “I'd love to.”
“Meet me at the Common around seven. By the equestrian statue.”
“All right.”
“I'll see you then,” Erik said, ending the call.
Charles turned towards Emma. His expression was at odds with how he was feeling: he was irritated that she hadn't told him the complete truth, but he couldn't readily stop smiling now that he knew he would get to see Erik later that day.
“He left me his number and you knew it,” Charles said as flatly as he could manage while composed himself.
Emma met his gaze evenly. “I never said that he didn't. I asked you how you planned to contact him.”
“Thus you were extremely misleading. Did you just toss it after he gave it to you?”
“He added it to your phone. I erased it, which I told you. I just didn't specify that it was your phone I erased it from,” Emma said, completely unapologetic.
Charles frowned at her. “That's a bit much, even from you.”
“Personal dislike aside, I honestly don't think he should be trusted,” Emma said.
“You still took it farther than was necessary,” Charles insisted.
Emma raised a brow at him. “It's still nowhere near as bad as you convincing Sebastian that the way to win my heart was to have twelve dozen potted peonies delivered to me. There was dirt everywhere. I almost killed him on sight without getting an explanation.”
Despite himself, Charles grinned at the memory. “You ended up with him anyway.”
“And now you're getting your date with Erik,” Emma said. “I won't interfere further without justifiable cause.”
This time Emma let him in when Charles nudged her mind with his own. Emma really was telling the truth, and even if her methods were questionable at best and largely self-serving, she also genuinely cared about his well-being in her own way. Charles conveyed his own excitement and confidence and reassurance that really, he would be fine, and that he wouldn't bring Erik back to the condo without her permission. Emma didn't look fully convinced, but she relented and smiled at him. “If this goes terribly one day remember that I warned you.”
Charles laughed. “I'll keep that in mind.”
-
Later in the day, Erik sent Charles a text: Should have asked earlier. What kind of food will you eat?
Charles responded with: Anything except quiche.
-
Charles was about to leave when Emma caught sight of him, sighed, turned him around, and guided him back to his room. “I swear, whenever you want to impress someone you forget how to dress yourself. Even though I'm opposed, I can't let you leave my home like this,” Emma said while she started going through his closet. “You're meeting a date in a park, not going on a job interview.” She eyed a pair of his jeans critically, deemed them acceptable, and threw them at him before starting in on his shirts. “Also, it's summer. No wool, even at night.”
-
Even with Emma making him change his clothing Charles arrived about fifteen minutes before the scheduled time. He had arrived early in the hopes of calming his nerves some; this in effect happened when he discovered that Erik was already there, too, so any worries about appearing overeager dissipated. It seemed he had spotted Erik first and Charles took a moment to properly look him over. There was a tense energy to the way he held himself even in the act of waiting, as though he might take off at any instant. He was long lines and sharp angles, lean but well-muscled from what Charles could tell.
Charles generally liked to think he wasn't that shallow, but Erik was undeniably gorgeous. He was also observant, since he caught sight of Charles while he was in the middle of staring, though Charles had attempted discretion. Erik's lips curled into a smirk and he lifted a hand. Charles gave a slight wave in return, his cheeks a little flush, as he went over to where Erik stood. “Hello. Have you been waiting long?” Charles asked.
“Not very.” This time, Erik blatantly let his gaze move over Charles in return and Charles tried to ignore the fluttering warmth in the pit of his stomach from so fully having Erik's attention. He was suddenly grateful that Emma had made him change, since otherwise he would have felt overdressed. “I have a place in mind for where we can eat, unless you're not hungry yet,” Erik continued.
“No, I'm starved, actually,” Charles said. He had spent most of the day distracted and when that happened he tended to overlook things like lunch.
“Then let's be off,” Erik said, a hand coming to rest upon Charles' elbow as he led him away from the park. Charles felt acutely aware of the light contact and Erik's proximity; it was silly, really, how strong of a reaction he was having to Erik over even the littlest thing. “The place we're going to is completely free of quiche or anything like it.”
Charles laughed, feeling at ease once again. “Thank you for the consideration.”
-
The restaurant Erik led him to was at first glance little more than a hole in the wall. Charles must have passed by it before without sparing a second thought, but he now followed Erik inside and downstairs to where there was atmospheric lighting and quirky décor. The place projected a feeling that was some bizarre mixture of bar, restaurant, and coffeehouse. They were seated in a mostly private corner and given menus. Charles observed aloud, “This is a much better place for a date than the one I picked yesterday.”
Erik snorted. “You picked it?”
Belatedly, Charles wondered if he should have kept that to himself. “Emma said I could since neither you nor she seemed to have a preference.”
“So that's why she suggested we meet at a sports bar.”
Charles shrugged. “I searched online for bars and picked the first place with positive reviews.”
“Do you put that much effort into everything you do?” Erik asked drily.
“No, only with other people's dating lives,” Charles responded lightly. “Much less with everything else.”
Erik grinned. “Impressive.”
“I like to think I am,” Charles said, closing his menu. “Do you have to use a lot of concentration to keep your thoughts shielded?”
Erik seemed to take the sudden turn in conversation easily. “Not anymore. It's basically become second nature over the years, though I have to expend more effort if anyone actively tries to get through.”
“I'm guessing that doesn't happen often.”
“You and Emma are the first in a long time.” The conversation paused as their waiter came over and took their dinner and drink orders; they decided to share a bottle of wine. “Did Emma tell you what else I can do?”
Charles shook his head. He had known it'd be better to learn any further details about Erik firsthand. “She wasn't exactly thrilled with me today.”
Erik laughed, not unkindly. “My fault, I'm guessing.”
“Yours and mine. So what other skills do you have to show me?”
“Many, but to start, this,” Erik said. He took out a coin of a denomination Charles didn't immediately recognize, which he proceeded to levitate and circle around his fingers before moving it to balance upright upon the back of Charles' hand and rolling it slowly towards his wrist.
The action sent a slight shiver down his spine and Charles smiled in delight from the casual demonstration. “Will I get to see more?”
“If tonight goes well,” Erik said, smugly. He made a gesture so the coin jumped back into his hand. The waiter brought their wine then and filled their glasses.
Charles lifted his glass towards Erik in toast. “Then here's to making it a good night.”
-
The wine was good, the food was better, and there wasn't any dearth of things to talk about between them. They ordered coffee for dessert and while Erik went to the toilet Charles noticed that there was a stack of games on one of the tables diagonal from them. “There's a chess set,” Charles said as Erik came back.
Erik gave him an amused look. “Does that mean you want to play?”
“Yes.”
Before Erik sat back down he grinned and retrieved the set to arrange on their table. Charles chose white for himself when Erik let him pick. They ended up going through several more cups of coffee and ordering a large white chocolate truffle. Normally Charles would have to do his best to block out, or at least pay minimal attention to, his opponents surface-level thoughts - it was no fun to win that way - but now he didn't have to and it allowed a greater degree of concentration.
The game went at a slow pace as they felt each other out, tried to anticipate and counter each move. Erik was the best opponent Charles had faced in a while, and the equal attention Erik invested in the game made him suspect that it was mutual. There was one instant of distraction: Charles was in the middle of sucking off a stray bit of syrup that had gotten on his fingertip and looked over to find Erik staring at him. It took him a moment to interpret Erik's gaze and when he did he flushed, which seemed to break his own focus for longer than it had Erik's.
The game ended unresolved, though, when their waiter apologetically came to the table with the bill. “Sorry guys, we need to close up. It's getting on past one now.”
Charles blinked, since it definitely didn't feel like they had been there for that many hours, but his watch confirmed this was true. Erik grabbed the check first and when Charles protested he said, “You can get the next time,” and the promise therein was an effective way to stop any argument.
-
It had been pleasantly warm downstairs, but the night air made Charles wish he had grabbed a jacket before leaving Emma's, even though it was the middle of summer. This became irrelevant when Erik wrapped his arm around Charles' shoulders - Erik radiated heat, or at least made Charles feel warmer on the inside. “We might be able to catch the last bus.”
“How would you feel about going for a walk instead?” Charles asked, looking up at him.
Erik smiled and they continued down the avenue. The walk ended up being an aimless wandering through parts of the city that were more or less familiar to each of them in different ways. They shared random details whenever something happened to come to mind.
-
“For my twenty-first birthday my friends brought me here,” Charles said, pointing to a Greek restaurant. “We were kicked out over a flambé incident.”
“Flambé incident?”
“We were having a discussion about what foods might be enhanced by setting them on fire. It escalated from there,” Charles said.
-
“I had a girlfriend who, for reasons still unknown to to me, liked making out in this particular public alleyway,” Erik said. “It's been the only time the numbering has come in useful.”
“I had a boyfriend like that, but with a cemetery. We didn't last,” Charles said.
-
“During finals I spent most of my free time in this bookstore,” Charles said. “I was on a first name basis with the cat.”
Erik looked at him curiously. “Does your telepathy work on cats?”
“Yes, but it always leaves me with a strong craving for fish, so I don't do it often.”
-
“I really love science,” Charles announced. They were waiting for a car to pass before crossing the street.
“Where did that come from?” Erik asked, looking at him with mild confusion.
“Nowhere,” Charles admitted, “But it's definitely something you should know about me.”
-
Charles paused as they approached a tall building made of glass. “It reeks of tourism, but I like the observation deck up on the top floor. Too bad it's closed now.”
Erik gave him a considering look. “That doesn't have to stop us.”
This was, evidently, not Erik's first time using his powers to work around security and surveillance systems. Charles mostly tried to stay out of his way and kept on the alert for security officers. When they approached, he gently nudged them back in the opposite direction and made it clear that there was no one there for them to apprehend, that it was simply a technical difficulty with the cameras, which needed to be resolved later in the sane hours of day. Erik grinned madly at him when he did this, but at least had the good sense to wait until they were safely on one of the elevators before he cupped Charles' face in his hands and brought their lips together.
We are going to be arrested. Our first date is going to end in a jail and I don't even care, Charles thought to himself, grasping the front of Erik's shirt as he kissed him back.
-
They stayed just long enough to enjoy the private view of the city and to kiss to a point that it was easy for Charles to push past the second wave of exhaustion and into giddiness. The process of sneaking back out seemed easier in comparison, though it might have been the feeling of elation that made everything else, like prison time, seem completely inconsequential.
They walked along further mostly in amicable silence. When the sun started to come up, Charles smiled at Erik. “How do you feel about getting breakfast?”
-
The first diner that was open provided them with a pile of greasy food to eat and several glasses of orange juice to drink. Erik began to build a replica of the Eiffel Tower out of butter knives, which made Charles glad that the borderline incoherence he felt appeared to be mutual. Erik had stolen all the cutlery he could find from the surrounding tables. “Our waitress thinks you're a magician,” Charles said after she came by and gave them more juice.
“I would never be a magician.”
“Why not?”
Erik gave him a look like it should be obvious. “Three reasons: bow-ties, top hats, and sugar-infused children.”
“There's nothing wrong with any of those things,” Charles said.
“I also have self-respect.”
-
They had now been out long enough that the train was running again. Erik stayed with him until they were in front of Emma's building. Charles held to his word and didn't invite Erik up, though there was a definite temptation. Erik didn't seem bothered by this, and instead drew Charles close again, one hand coming to rest on Charles' hip and the other tangling in Charles' hair as Charles met him readily for a goodbye kiss. He wrapped his arms around Erik's neck as the contact drew out and was coaxed into something deeper. Erik tasted like orange juice and something else indescribably distinct.
“So, about that second date,” Erik said, voice rougher.
“I'd say we should go now if I could stay awake longer,” Charles said, a little breathless.
Erik laughed and kissed him again, shorter this time, before they reluctantly drew apart from each other. “Call me later.”
-
Emma was in her robe and putting on her first pot of coffee when Charles entered. She looked him over and shook her head. “You're a lost cause, aren't you?”
Charles smiled. “Completely.”
Here it is on AO3.