No Going Back Now
Sunlight. Though a commonly welcomed sight in the morning, Charles can’t help but hate the world for turning and shifting from night to day. His head was pounding, his eyes burned, his mouth felt dry. Never before had he felt this terrible when he was hungover, nor does he think he had ever been able to remember this little. He rolled over in bed and buried his face in the pillows in a desperate attempt to block out the light and protect his eyes from the scorching pain.
Think, Charles, he reluctantly told himself. However, thinking was the last thing that he wanted to be doing right then. What do you remember?
Unfortunately, not much. He remembered being dragged out of the mansion early in the evening by Sean, Alex, and Hank. He remembered entering a bar, some local dive that he thankfully can’t recall the name of. It had a filthy air about it, added to by the sticky floors and tables and the stench of old beer that hung in the air. He couldn’t fathom why the boys were so intent on drinking here as opposed to another place, but they had already ordered and he figured it wouldn’t be so bad after a few drinks.
He was right. After a few hours, Charles had lost count of how many shots he had taken. The boys were giggling wildly and falling about the place, and if he remembered correctly, he could have sworn that Hank and Alex had kissed at least once while Sean chatted up some girl in the corner. Charles could recall how badly his head had been spinning. He remembered stumbling out the door, followed closely by Sean, whom he had to drag away from the girl, and Hank and Alex walking hand in hand.
After that, it was blank.
He sighed and tried to open his eyes, but decided against it. It was too painful. Strangely enough, that’s not all that was hurting… his ass hurt like never before. Had he gotten into a fight last night? He attempted to test out his other body parts, moving limbs without getting out of bed. Nothing hurt, but oh God, his butt was on fire. He finally sat up, and almost cried out in pain.
“Goddammit,” he gasped. The pain was unbearable. He stumbled out of bed, barely surprised by the fact that he was still wearing the same pants as last night. He unbuckled his belt and slid his pants off, then staggered into the bathroom. Standing in front of the mirror, he pulled down his boxers… and suddenly felt like throwing up.
There, on his butt, in a large curly black font, was one word… Erik.
Quickly, he pulled his boxers back up, horrified that someone had somehow, someway, seen it.
Oh God, did the boys know?
Please God no please don’t let them know, Charles thought to himself, squinting his eyes and rubbing at his temples. He looked at his face in the mirror, at his bloodshot eyes and his borderline greasy hair.
“Well,” he mumbled, “fuck.”
He decided that at this point, the best thing for him to do was to clean himself up and pretend that none of this had happened. He turned around and picked his pants up off the ground, taking care to fold them and place them on the counter. The shower was calling to him, promising hot water and cleanliness, both of which he desperately needed right now. He turned the handle to the side, watching as the steaming water poured out of the showerhead and trying his best not to think about his ass. He stepped into the shower, wincing as the water poured over his body and the fresh tattoo.
As he lathered shampoo into his hair, he wondered how you’re supposed to care for a tattoo, exactly. Was there special soap? Could you even use soap? Unfortunately, he knew surprisingly little about the upkeep involved with body modification.
After a few minutes, he decided he was clean enough to be presentable and climbed out of the shower. He threw a towel around his waist and combed his hair back, hoping he looked presentable enough to join the rest of the household for breakfast. He left the bathroom and searched through his closet for a pair of pants and a crisp shirt, then pulled them on. As he tugged his pants on, his rear smarted and he bit his lip to keep from making pained noises.
And with that, he left his room.
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As he entered the kitchen, he felt an air of unspoken awkwardness. Erik, Moira, and Raven smiled at him and they all greeted him, but the three boys all stared down at their plates, refusing to meet his eyes. Charles didn’t even have to read their minds to tell that his worst fears had come true and the boys did, in fact, know of the tattoo.
Charles sat in an empty chair between Alex and Erik and placed his hands in his lap, trying not to cry out. Merely sitting down was more painful than he could ever imagine that it should be.
“Charles, are you alright?” Raven asked, a hint of concern in her voice. “You look pale.”
“Ah yes, I uhm…” Charles trailed off. “I was out with the boys last night and it seems I had a bit too much to drink.”
Raven nodded, accepting this as an appropriate answer, and went back to eating her pancakes. Hank coughed, and out of the corner of his eye, Charles could see Sean shoot him a glance. Hank snorted, then blushed and shoveled a bite of pancakes into his mouth. Charles tried his best to get their attention, but they still wouldn’t look at him. He cleared his throat, and Moira turned to look at him.
“So Charles, what shenanigans were you all up to last night? You didn’t get home until at least four.”
He coughed, trying to seem casual. “Uh,” he mumbled, “well I just suppose that uhm. We just went out and got a few drinks.” This time, Sean was the one to laugh.
“Oh man,” he said between bursts of laughter, “we checked out that new tattoo shop downtown.”
“Oh,” Moira said, sounding disinterested. “How was that?”
Sean grinned devilishly. “It was nice. Good service.” Alex and Hank began to crack up.
Charles blushed profusely and nervously ran his fingers through his hair. Erik glanced at him and raised an eyebrow, obviously quite suspicious.
“I just realized that I… have… something… training,” Charles mumbled, and quickly stood up and stormed out of the kitchen.
He hurried to the library and sat down on the couch, putting his head in his hands and sighing loudly. He could feel his ears still burning and realized that his heart was pumping fast. Never before had Charles been so embarrassed in his life, and this time he had no one to share that sentiment with. His head was swimming from the copious amounts of alcohol that he had consumed last night, and combined with the humiliation, he felt like passing out. Suddenly he heard a knock and looked up, seeing Erik standing in the doorway.
“You alright there, Charles?” he asked, sounded genuinely concerned for his friend. Charles stared at him, feeling absolutely mortified. What if he knew? What if he found out that Charles had his name permanently on his ass?
“Yes, I’m… I’m fine,” Charles said, his voice terse. Erik entered the room and sat in a chair beside him, leaning forward and putting his elbows on his knees.
“Charles, I may not have your gift, but I can still tell that something’s wrong. What is it?” Erik asked quietly. Charles looked up at him, and could feel his face turning red from shame.
“It’s really nothing, Erik.” Charles forced a smile. He could tell that Erik was not buying it. They sat together in silence for a few moments, nothing disturbing the scene except for the soft ticking of the clock in the corner. Charles laced his fingers together and tapped his thumbs against his chin, hoping that Erik would leave soon so he could sit and be humiliated by himself.
“Well, at least tell me that you’re not going to be sitting inside all day,” Erik said after a long pause. “It’s hot outside and the kids have organized a pool party.” He grinned a toothy, mildly suggestive grin, and Charles could feel himself turning even redder.
“We’ll see,” he said in a strained voice. Erik stood and left the room, and Charles heaved a sigh of relief. It’s not that he didn't like being around Erik- quite the opposite, really- but he was terrified that his friend would somehow find out about his exploits from the previous night. He couldn’t quite imagine what had provoked him to get the tattoo, anyway. Obviously drinking made him act foolishly, and though he wouldn’t admit it to anyone, he had been attracted to Erik from the moment that he had climbed onto the ship after rescuing him from the cold waters that one night. But a tattoo of his name? How could Charles have been that careless?
He shifted in his seat, cringing at the pain that shot through his rear end. Maybe he should go swimming with the kids later, after all. There was no use sitting inside all day, it certainly hurt too much for him to bear. He stood up and headed upstairs to change.
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As he sat in the plush library chair and watched his friend, Erik felt extremely concerned. Never before had he seen Charles act in such a way… what had happened last night? He supposed that the best thing he could do right now was to give his friend some space and to try to pry the source of his discomfort from the boys. He made sure to mention the pool party the kids were throwing later and then took his leave.
He entered the hall, and saw Hank about to ascend the staircase to his room. “Hank!” he called, jogging to catch up with him. The bespectacled boy turned to look at Erik, and he could have sworn that he saw embarrassment flash in his eyes momentarily. “Hank, what’s wrong with Charles?”
Hank looked at his hands, obviously avoiding Erik’s eyes. “Uh, I don’t know. You should ask the other guys, I’m going to change to go swimming,” he mumbled before spinning on his heel and dashing up the stairs.
Erik watched him go, then sighed heavily. He was so worried about Charles he couldn’t stand it. How was he supposed to relax on this scorching summer day when he was busy thinking about Charles? That’s not to say that he wasn’t used to doing that anyway- Charles was on his mind quite often, actually. Some part of him wanted to scream to the world “I LOVE CHARLES XAVIER!” but then, that would be silly, wouldn’t it? He had to remain professional during their training, and surely Charles didn’t share his feelings.
He ran up the stairs then and headed across the spacious building to his room. He opened the door and entered, shutting it behind him with a soft thud. He crossed the room to his dresser, all the while thinking about Charles and hoping that he would come down to the pool later. Erik couldn’t wait to see him in a swimsuit, considering the most of Charles’ body that he had seen before was his face and hands… the man sure loved to wear dress clothes.
Erik dug through the top drawer of his dresser and pulled out a pair of swim shorts, colored a dark shade of grey. He unbuttoned his shirt and slid it off, then tugged off his pants and tossed both into a laundry hamper. He yanked on the shorts and looked at himself in the full-length mirror hanging on the wall. He smiled, more pleased than he thought he should be with his body. Obviously, the training was doing him some good- he was proud of the lean condition of his body and the way that the swim shorts emphasized his hips. Was that weird for him to think? He didn't care. He looked good today and he felt good today, despite worrying about Charles.
He opened the next drawer down and took out a navy blue beach towel, then turned and left the room, using his powers to pull the door closed behind him. He trotted down the stairs and through a sitting room to reach the back door. Outside, he could see Hank, Alex, Sean, Moira, and Raven already in the pool and from the looks of it, having a good time. However, he saw no Charles.
He left the mansion and jogged across the lawn to the pool, where he threw down his towel. “Erik!” Raven called. “So nice of you to join us. Have you seen my brother?”
“Sorry, I can’t say I have,” Erik replied, before leaping into the water. He did a cannonball, making sure to land as close to the other mutants as he could in an effort to get them wet. As he reemerged from the water, he could feel goosebumps raising on his skin- though the day was warm, the water was freezing. He slicked his wet hair back just as Alex and Sean each grabbed an arm and pulled him back down.
Too long. His lungs cried out and it felt strangely like that one night not so long ago when he was following Shaw’s submarine… he pushed the thought from his mind and tugged the boys under with him before coming up for air again. The others in the pool were nearly doubled over with laughter. Erik grinned a wide, toothy grin before hopping up and sitting on the edge of the pool. He flopped backwards and laid there for a moment staring at the sky, lazily kicking his legs in the water. He closed his eyes.
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He heard a splash beside him and cracked his eyes open to see Hank perched on the edge. “Hey, sorry about earlier,” he said. “I was just… well, caught off guard, I guess.”
“By what?” Erik asked inquisitively. This piqued his interest.
“Well,” Hank began, staring across the pool with a grin crossing his face. “You have to promise that you won’t tell.”
“Cross my heart. What is it?”
Hank’s expression screamed mischief. “Charles… well, you know how earlier Sean mentioned a tattoo parlor?”
Erik nodded.
“Charles got a tattoo,” Hank said with a snort.
A look of bewilderment crossed Erik’s face and he scoffed. “No way. Charles isn’t even wild enough to get a new haircut, let alone a tattoo.”
“It’s true!” Hank cried. “I swear it!”
“Alright,” Erik said. “I’ll bite. Where is it? What does it say?”
“Uhm… I can’t tell you what it says. But it’s somewhere below the waist.”
“How far below the waist?” Erik asked. Some part of him thought there was no way this was true, but he might as well play along.
Hank pointed to his buttocks.
Erik laughed. “Right, like he’d ever do that.” He sat up and pushed Hank in the pool, grinning at him. The other kids laughed as he fell in. Just then, he saw something out of the corner of his eye. He turned to see Charles timidly exiting the house, holding his towel around his waist.
“Charles!” Erik called. “Good to see that you decided to enjoy the warm day instead of staying cooped up inside.” Charles waved his acknowledgement as he approached, a nervous look on his face. He sat down on the concrete a few feet down from Erik, towel still around his waist.
“I thought I’d chance it,” Charles said meekly. He clutched at the cloth hiding him as if he was afraid of someone tearing it off.
Raven swam up to the edge by Charles and placed her arms on the concrete. “Now Charles,” she playfully scolded. “This is a pool party. You can’t wear towels at a pool party. You have to swim!” Raven grabbed his hands and tried to pull him in. Erik caught her eye and shook his head slightly, sensing how scared his friend seemed. She released his hands, then pushed off from the wall. “Fine, but you have to join us sometime!”
Erik turned back to the pool to watch the kids splashing each other. “Ah, to be young again,” he said to himself.
There was a pause. “But my friend, you are still young,” Charles said. Erik turned to catch his eye and smiled.
“Why thank you Professor Xavier, that’s kind of you.” Charles returned the smile and stood up to take his towel off. In doing so, Erik caught something. He could sense… what was that? Was there metal in the tattoo? He wouldn’t be surprised, what with the quality of the body art industry these days. There’s no knowing what you’d find in your body. Through Charles’ red-and-white-striped shorts, he could almost make out a word… It started with an E, for sure. Definitely an E. Charles adjusted his shorts, trying to pull them down to cover his butt before sitting down again. Erik hoped that he wouldn’t notice that he was staring at him. What was the next letter? He focused harder, narrowing his eyes. It had to be an r, and then an i, and then a k… Oh God, the tattoo said Erik.
He could see the image in his mind, could see the curly black letters. Erik. It said Erik. Why did it say Erik?
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Charles sat beside Erik on the edge of the pool, trying to sit normally while subconsciously shifting all of his weight to the side with the tattoo in the hopes that it would make it less likely for Erik to somehow find out. Through his peripheral vision, he could see Erik glance down at his butt and a surprised look crossed his face. Oh God, Charles thought, does he know? How could he know? Oh God he needed to hide. Would it be weird if he put his towel back on? Yes. What could he do what could he do what could he do… the pool. He stood up, hoping he didn’t seem too rushed, and dove in.
It was cold, but the sudden change in temperature made it easier for him to focus on something other than how much he was blushing. He hoped- no, prayed- that the water made him more distorted and made the tattoo harder to see, as he felt that his shorts did an inadequate job of keeping it hidden. As he broke the surface, he shook his head to get the water out of his hair and used his fingers to comb it all to the side. The water came up to his chest, luckily. More than high enough to cover him.
He calmed down a bit over time, and even took the time to play Marco Polo with the kids. However, the whole time Erik remained on the edge of the pool, watching him intently. Every time he turned around, Erik would be staring at him, causing Charles to turn red and look the other direction. Eventually, though, the game came to an end and the consensus between the kids is that it was time to go inside. They all clambered out of the water until Charles was the last one in, standing awkwardly in the center.
Erik was still watching him.
Charles uneasily shifted his weight from foot to foot before finally deciding that standing in the pool alone was far more awkward than just getting out. He treaded his way through the water to the spot where he left his towel, then pushed down on the edge and vaulted himself out of the water. As he came up, he could feel his shorts coming down much lower than they should be, and once he was able to stand up, he hurriedly adjusted his trousers. His eyes flicked downwards to meet Erik’s, who stared at him with an intense gaze. Charles bent down to retrieve his towel and then scurried across the lawn to the house, trying to wrap the towel around his waist as he walked. As he reached the door, he twisted the handle and threw the door open, dashing inside and slamming it shut behind him. He turned and pressed his back to the door, squeezing his eyes shut and praying that Erik didn’t know about last night.
Glancing to the clock on the wall, he noticed that it was almost dinnertime. He supposed it would be best if he was to get washed up for eating and to rinse the chlorine out of his hair. He brushed a few loose strands out of his face and pushed away from the door, striding to his room on the second floor. “Thank God Erik’s not the one that can read minds,” he muttered to himself in a lame attempt at making himself feel better.
He entered his room and shut the door before taking his towel and shorts off and throwing them into the hamper. He approached the bathroom door, taking a cautionary glance in the mirror at that damned tattoo. It was… well, a lot redder than it had been before. Was that normal? How were tattoos supposed to look?
Charles turned the shower on and stepped in. He spent the majority of the next ten minutes rubbing a bar of soap over his butt and the tattoo, hoping that this was all it needed in order to look like it was intended to. For the second time that day, he shut the water off and got out, making sure to check the tattoo in the mirror again. He breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing that it wasn’t as red, but the relief was soon replaced by mortification as he again realized that Erik’s name was on his ass.
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Dinner was, thankfully, much less tense than breakfast. Erik entered the dining room to find that he was the last of the household to arrive, thanks to an extended shower and a short nap. He had dreamed that he and Charles had defeated Shaw and they had been kissing and then- he wiped the thought from his mind, aware that Charles could at any point read it. He sat in his usual seat with Charles to his left and Moira to his right, and was instantly hit with the smell of well-cooked meat. Erik couldn’t deny that he loved steak, and Moira also happened to be a splendid cook, though he felt she spent far too much time with Charles.
They had all waited for him to arrive before starting to eat, so once he was seated they all dug in. The conversation was pleasantly casual. They discussed their upcoming plans for Shaw, their training, how good the food was, and an array of other topics. However, the one thing gnawing at Erik’s mind- that tattoo- was obviously absent from the exchange. He needed to know more, though. He needed to know how- why, actually- Charles had gotten his name imprinted on his butt. He couldn’t help but glance at the man’s rear every once in a while, and just hoped that no one noticed.
After a lull in the conversation, he decided to take his chances. “So,” he began, not sure of how the group would react. “you boys never did quite tell us what happened last night.”
The four men that were out last night all stopped chewing and exchanged wary glances, then the three youngest looked expectantly at Charles, hoping he would take this one. Charles pushed some food around on his plate with his fork for a few moments, then swallowed loudly and set his eating utensil down on his napkin.
“It seems…” he trailed off. “It seems that things got a bit more out of hand than we would have expected.”
“Ah, that’s what tends to happen when one consumes too much liquor,” Erik said with a grin. “But really, friend, what went on in the wee hours of the morning?”
Color started to creep into Charles’ cheeks, and he coughed quietly. “Uhm. I’d rather not say, if it’s all the same to you.”
Erik was taken aback. It was quite uncharacteristic of Charles to keep things from the team, especially from him. Usually Erik was the one that would sit and listen as Charles talked about his childhood and his feelings. He rather liked it, hearing what Charles had to say. He found the voice of his friend to be quite soothing, to be completely honest. The way that he trusted Erik with his secrets was one of Erik’s favorite aspects of the man, and it gave him a deep respect and appreciation for Charles.
“Alright, I’m sorry,” Erik said, feeling suddenly like he had to defend himself. “I didn’t mean anything by it, I was just wondering.”
The rest of the meal was spent in silence.
Once everyone was finished, Charles excused himself and hastened out of the room. Erik and the kids helped to clear the table while Moira washed the dishes, as she usually did. She had taken it upon herself to be the official cleaning woman of the house, which Erik couldn’t complain with. Once the dining room was clean, he headed off in search of Charles.
He could have sworn that he checked every room in the house before finally heading to Charles’ room, just in case the man decided to be sneaky and unpredictable. No, Erik decided, that’s not like Charles. He approached the Brit’s door and rapped sharply on it, three firm knocks. There was a long pause, and Erik started to wonder if he had somehow missed him, but then he heard a faint voice from inside the room. “Come in.”
He pushed the door open and entered the room to find Charles sitting on the edge of the bed, head in his hands. Erik shut the door quietly and walked to the bed. “Mind if I join you?”
Charles looked up, his face redder than it had been all day. “O-of course, make yourself comfortable.”
Erik sat beside his friend. Their knees were barely touching, but Erik was fine with that. Though he didn’t typically like touching other people, being close to Charles made him feel safe.
“Charles, I… I know,” Erik murmured.
Charles’ head shot up, alarm in his eyes. “You know what?” he said, trying to act as if he didn’t know what Erik was talking about.
“The, uh…” Erik gestured at Charles’ butt. “I know about the tattoo, Charles.”
Charles looked like he was about to faint. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, turning away to face the wall.
Erik felt like laughing, but he knew that would be incredibly rude. “Charles, come on. I know what happened last night, Hank told me.”
“Dammit!” Charles said, turning angry. “I told him and the other boys not to breathe a word of this to anyone.” He sighed. “So then I suppose you know what it says?”
Erik nodded, and Charles winced. “I can explain myself,” he began. “Uh, you see, I guess that since that night, I mean since meeting you I… let me start over. I got your… your name… tattooed because… Erik, I’m so sorry, I can’t believe-“
He was cut off by Erik, who suddenly grabbed him and pulled him into a deep, long kiss. It was only seconds, but it felt like years. Long, beautiful years. When Erik pulled away, a look of surprise was on Charles’ face. His eyelids fluttered as if he had just woken up, just been brought back from a dream.
“I am so sorry, I can’t believe I just did that,” Erik said, beginning to stand up. “That was much too forward, I should be going.” He turned to go and before he got very far, Charles reached up and gripped his shoulders, pulling him back down to the bed and into another kiss.
Erik groaned and wrapped his arms around Charles’ waist, pulling him deeper. Charles threaded his fingers into Erik’s hair, lifting himself up slightly so he could move closer to the metal bender. Erik sucked in a breath when he felt Charles rub against his already hard cock, and started to unbutton Charles’ shirt as they kissed.
He could feel Charles grinning into the kiss. “I seem to have underestimated your levels of acceptance concerning body art,” he breathed. Erik undid the last button on his shirt and slid it off of his shoulders, carelessly tossing it to the ground. He pulled Charles towards his while using his power to undo his belt, which he sent zipping to the floor. As he ran his fingers over Charles’ body, exploring, discovering, he was also fumbling with the button of his pants. He pushed the other man onto his back and slid his trousers down his legs, allowing them to join the rest of his clothing. He slipped his fingers into the band of Charles’ boxers and slipped them off slowly, watching eagerly as his cock slid out.
Charles pulled away momentarily. “It seems,” he laughed, “that you are much more clothed than I would like you to be.” He grinned voraciously. Erik tugged his turtleneck over his head and tossed it to the side, then leaned down and let their mouths connect, nipping lightly at the telepath’s bottom lip. Charles groaned, and Erik could hear the want, the need in the sound. He took his pants and boxers off, then moved to straddle Charles, who was gazing lustily at him.
Erik leaned over until his mouth was beside Charles’ ear. “I want to see that tattoo, if you don’t mind,” he purred. Charles rolled over, displaying his ass for Erik to see. The name- no, his name- was there, right there. The sight of it was more than Erik could bear, and he pulled Charles closer, sliding into him effortlessly. He could feel the telepath tighten around him, and Erik lazily started thrusting his hips as he bent his head down to bite at Charles’ neck.
“Oh God, Erik,” Charles moaned, reaching one arm around to tangle in Erik’s hair.
Erik smirked and his thrusts slowly started to build speed. “I want to make you come, Professor,” he purred into Charles’ ear. “I want to hear you say my name; your ass doesn’t quite scream it loud enough.”
Charles would have blushed, but he suddenly didn’t care. He had Erik’s name on his body, and he wanted everyone to know. He wanted to broadcast to the world just how much he loved this man.
Erik took Charles’ cock into his hands and began to stroke it to match the rhythm of his thrusts. Charles leaned his head back and moaned loudly, balling his hands into fists in Erik’s hair. Erik increased the speed of his movements and dragged his teeth down Charles’ neck, leaving a ragged mark that looked like a shark or some other large-toothed creature had bitten him there. Erik could feel himself nearing the edge, and from the sounds Charles was making, he was too.
“Charles, I want you to say my when you come,” he growled, nipping at Charles’ earlobe.
Charles gasped and sucked in a breath before hitting the edge. “Oh God, oh God oh Erik oh God oh ERIK.” Erik felt himself come within Charles at the same time the telepath sprayed his seed into Erik’s hand. Erik slid out of the other man and they both flopped forward, panting softly. Erik stretched out on his back and Charles rolled over, placing his head on Erik’s shoulder.
“You know what?” Charles murmured after a moment, a smile crossing his lips. “I don’t think I regret getting that tattoo anymore.”