Between Rage and Serenity [NC-17] [1/1]
Title: Between Rage and Serenity
Author: papercutperfect
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Based on this kink meme prompt.
The gang gets the idea that it would be good to get some training in hand-to-hand combat without the use of their powers, and since Erik has spent a good portion of his life kicking ass he's the obvious choice for their teacher. Charles, naturally, needs some one-on-one training that involves lots of sweaty body contact and ends in a battle for dominance between Erik and Charles. Anywho, it's all fun and games until someone gets an erection. Cue aggressive, down and dirty sex, complete with tearing clothes off each other, biting, pinching, marking... the works.
The fight was over before it truly started.
Alex smirked as he threw the first punch, aiming a perfect arch at the older mutant's chin. But his fist connected with nothing but air, the blonde stumbling forward with the force of his swing. Erik appeared behind him, melting from nowhere it seemed, grabbing Alex around the waist and bodily throwing him to the mat.
A hissed 'ooooo' went up from the watching crowd, the small team of mutants all sporting a variety of bumps and bruises left from their own fruitless battles.
"Who's idea was it to let this guy show us how to fight?" Sean whispered, the edge of fear to his voice painfully obvious. Three sets of eyes swivelled to Charles, who only smiled innocently and pointedly didn't return their gaze. The truth was, Erik was the clear choice for a leader in this particular situation; Charles had insisted the team learn how to fist-fight, just in case they ever found themselves somehow unable to use their powers against attackers.
Charles had never fought a serious brawl, unless drunken scuffles for the last call at a bar were counted. Erik, on the other hand, had had to do little more than fight his entire life. As depressing a fact as that was, it also made for a powerful weapon.
Alex pushed himself onto his elbows, a deep frown creasing his brow as he glared hotly up at Erik.
"How 'bout three out of five?" He growled, scrambling back to his feet and raising both fists in defense. Erik merely smiled, hands buried in the pockets of his sweatpants in such a nonchalent way that Alex furiously wished he could punch that smile to the other side of his face.
A hurried clapping cut the tension, Charles rushing forward with a somewhat bemused laugh. "I think you've had quite enough, Alex." The telepath slotted himself between the two men, though Alex simply continued to glare at Erik over the top of Charles' head. "You fought well, really; you almost convinced me you were going to actually hit him that last time."
Clearly not amused by the attempt at a joke, Alex turned his dagger-filled glare to Charles, before turning on his heel and slouching from the mat to rejoin the rest of the group. Raven patted him on the shoulder in what she hoped was a comforting way, ignoring the wince of pain from her wrist (where Erik had grabbed it in an iron grip as she'd tried to uppercut him). Sean remained deadly silent, eyes wide with shock. If anyone in the group had stood a chance against Erik, it had been Alex... Sean was taller than the blond teen, but was all gangily limbs and a little puppy fat. He'd never worked out a day in his life, and instantly regretted it as a dark, Erik-shaped shadow fell over him.
"You're up, Freckles." Erik jerked his head in the direction of the mats. Sean gave the others a despairing look, gulping thickly as he stepped forward.
---
"Honestly, my friend. You could of gone a little easier on them." Charles watched the line of battered teens leave the room, Sean limping in Hank's wake. Pushing floppy strands of chocolate brown hair from his forehead, he shut the door behind them, leaning back against the solid mahogany wood. "It was their first time fighting without their powers, after all."
"They need to learn, Charles. Shaw isn't going to 'go easy on them'." Erik shrugged, slowly moving up to stand in front of the shorter mutant. A small patch of sweat stained the chest of his sweatshirt, the only sign that he had actually needed to put some effort into fighting the others at times. Hank had been a suprisingly good little scrapper when pushed, those feet packing a powerful kick.
Charles nodded, smiling gently. "Maybe we can focus on blocking punches next time, instead of taking them on the chin." He made to move but was blocked by Erik's arm shooting across him, palm to wall, effectively blocking his path. Curious eyes lifted to dangerously narrowed ones.
"We're not finished yet." A slow smile played on Erik's lips, a new glint in those fathomless eyes sending a shiver of something down Charles' back. "There's still one more contestant."
Charles blinked, taking a moment to process the information, before flashing Erik an incredulous look. "Me?"
"You."
"Don't be ridiculous, my friend. I don't need to fight." Charles tried to open the door, but Erik's other arm came up, slamming it shut and trapping the shorter man in the middle.
"Your powers are strong, Charles, there's no denying that." Erik ignored Charles' protests, that mischeivious smile growing. "But against Shaw, they're useless. You know full well about that helmet he has, how it blocks you from his mind. And what if the other telepath attacks you, in her diamond form?"
Shifting uncomfortably against the doorknob in his back, Charles opened his mouth to speak, but Erik cut across him.
"Don't give me the 'wouldn't hit a woman' speech. She would kill you given the chance, Charles. You'd have no choice."
Charles shook his head, dropping his eyes to his tennis shoes. "Perhaps next time."
"What's the matter, Charles?" Erik's smile turned shark-like, their faces so close together that Charles had to tip his own back against the door to put some space between them. "Scared?"
Bingo; the magic word. Charles' jaw set, pursing his lips a little in irritation. "Of course I'm not, I just don't wish to fight you."
"Oh, is that it?" Erik's voice was clearly mocking now as he moved back, leaving Charles pressed up against the door. "Do you think you would beat me, Charles? Would you floor me with one hit, make me beg you for mercy?"
It didn't take a telepath to know that his teasing words were merely a way to get Charles to break, yet the shorter man couldn't help but feel his feathers ruffle as Erik laughed at the very idea of him in a fist-fight. He sucked in a sharp, determined breath, pushing himself away from the door.
"Right. Come on then." The mat dipped beneath his shoes as Charles rounded on Erik, lifting both fists in front of him, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet.
This only made Erik laugh louder as he advanced, and Charles would usually of taken a second to appreciate the true emotion from his friend, but right now, he was seeing red. "This isn't a time for Queensbury Rules, Charles. Should we meet at dawn, pistols at ten pace-"
Erik was violently silenced by a swift punch to his jaw, not too hard, but just enough to jerk his head to the side, utter suprise clear on his face. Charles smiled, perhaps a little smugly, waggling his fingers at Erik in challenge. Erik touched the sore spot on his jaw, the laughter and smiles gone. "Touche."
And then there was nothing but the sounds of knuckles striking flesh and cotton, panting breaths mixed with sharp cries and gutteral grunts. The fight esculated quickly, light jabs turning to harsh punches, the mat squeaking in protest.
Charles was quick, much quicker than Erik had envisioned, and though he was no way stronger than the taller mutant, he certainly managed to land a few nasty blows. He was also suprisingly resiliant, Erik's lashes growing bolder as Charles merely shook them off.
It wasn't until a line of blood trickled from the telepath's nose that Erik thought he ought to call time out, but Charles vaguely wiped it on the arm of his sleeve, staining the grey fabric, before throwing himself at Erik's waist. The movement tipped them both to the mat, Charles straddling Erik's waist, throwing a violent punch to the other man's cheek. Erik growled, his world spinning as he roughly grabbed Charles' hips and twisted them, Charles gasping as his back hit the mat with a dull thud. Before he could think about retaliating, both his wrists were snatched in a tight grip, forced over his head. He kicked and thrashed, jerking a knee up between Erik's legs. But before it reached its target, it was locked between iron thighs, Erik's face suddenly way too close.
"That isn't fighting fair, Charles. Now you're learning." Erik's voice was ragged, breath coming in short pants, those blue-green eyes like molten lava. Charles felt himself blush from the tip of his toes to the roots of his hair, blood pooling in his cheeks, in his groin, and suddenly it was imperitive that Erik get off him right now, before he noticed just what was happening, before this became the most embarrassing moment of his life.
He struggled against Erik's grip, teeth gritting in desperation, heels trying to get some purchase on the slippery mat. Erik was strangely quiet, and Charles could virtually feel the heat of his gaze as it travelled up and down his body. Please, please, don't let him notice...
Erik's thighs released their vice-like grip on Charles' knee, but instead of lifting up, those hips were suddenly descending and ohholygod -
Charles almost choked on a sharp gasp, fighting between a strangled mix of pleasure and embarrassment when he discovered that Erik was just as hard as him, hips involuntarily jumping to meet solid heat. Erik's lashes fluttered at the contact, Charles staring up at him with those huge azure eyes, breath bated, as if waiting for him to do something, anything, punch him or fuck him senseless, it didn't matter which.
Chest heaving with excersion and arousal, Erik inwardly struggled to regain some semblance of control. The atmosphere had changed dramatically within mere seconds, suddenly too hot, electric tension crackling between them. The lust coursing through him was thick enough to be bottled, and the way Charles was squirming like that... he hadn't felt this way in as long a time as he could remember; hot blood pumping through his veins, raw passion, the need to touch, to consume... it had been years. Was it Charles, or the fight that had rendered him this way? More than likely both, he concluded, taking in the delicious sight of Charles beneath him, mussed hair sticking to his forehead, the hapharzadly wiped smudge of blood painting flushed skin.
And to know that Charles was equally affected by this too - stuffy, old-fart Charles who had probably never been with a man in his life - it made his head spin.
Letting go of Charles' wrists, Erik slid a hand rapidly down the smaller man's body, eliciting a short cry as he cupped Charles through his pants. Charles' head hit the mat as stars shot across his vision, hands coming up to tug at Erik's shoulders and suddenly there were lips crushing to his, fingers looping blindly around his neck to pull him down.
Charles moaned lightly into the kiss as Erik bit at his lower lip, worrying the flesh a beautiful, kiss-swollen red. It wasn't until he tried to move, to sit up a little, that he realised this was still a fight of sorts. Erik kept him pinned beneath his weight, the kiss turning aggressive, challenging.
Far from gentle, the kiss was heated, overpowering, stubble scraping shaven cheeks. Charles fisted his hands into the front of Erik's sweatshirt, wanting it off, ignoring the fact that the sounds he was making were borderline keening whines. He would challenge anyone to not make such noises when Erik's skilled fingers were tugging at the drawstring of their pants, teasing them through the flimsy fabric.
Breaking the kiss when the need for air became too powerful, Charles tugged again at Erik's shirt, more incesantly this time, until Erik gave in and allowed it to be pulled up and over his head. It wasn't as smooth a move as it could have been, getting stuck somewhere around his chin and elbows, Charles somehow managing a short laugh before busying that mouth by wrapping swollen lips around a dusky nipple. Erik, effectively blindfolded and bound by his own shirt, sucked in an off-guard breath, back arching into the touch.
Using the fleeting moment of distraction to his full advantage, Charles gave Erik's chest a good shove, the rush of adrenaline and Erik's trapped arms making it easier than anticipated to push him onto his back. The shirt was yanked off and once again Erik found himself staring up at the ceiling, Charles on top of him, and oh when he moved like that...
Hands grabbed the rim of Charles' own shirt, but were batted away when he tried to pull it up. Obviously, the telepath wasn't going to be fooled by the same dirty trick. Erik growled low in the back of his throat, the sound of ripping fabric echoing from the high walls. Within seconds, the sweatshirt was raggedly torn apart down the middle, Charles' heart skipping lustful beats. Erik was either incredibly strong, or he was going to have to have a firm talk with the tailor that had talked him into paying such a high price for the set of matching grey sweatsuits.
What remained of the shirt was flung to godknow's where, Charles pulled from his distracted thoughts as he was tugged down. The first touch of skin on skin left them both momentarily breathless, clinging together for a heartbeat, foreheads touching, lips skimming almost tenderly, before that furious heat took over them both once more.
Trailing openmouthed kisses down sun-burnished skin, Charles sucked at one particularly tasty spot where shoulder met neck, biting down on thick muscle. Erik all but squirmed under the administrations, gripping tight on strands of floppy brown hair. That bite would leave a mark, he'd have to wear a turtleneck tomorrow - but right now, he didn't care. Not when Charles' hips rolled devilishly against his own like that, grinding their still clothed erections together, pleasure sparking behind closed eyelids. It wasn't enough, not nearly enough.
A quick glance at the gym door and the gold-plated lock turned with a soft click, making Charles inwardly shy with relief; though to be perfectly honest, the team could of pulled up chairs and popcorn and he still wouldn't of been able to stop.
Erik's lips formed the professor's name, and Charles shivered, head tipping bonelessly back - he'd never imagined someone could make his name sound so filthy, yet so much like a prayer at the same time. Erik's palms slid up his thighs, nails dragging on the fabric.
It took more powerstruggles, more scuffling rolls on the cold mat before their pants and shoes were successfully shed, Charles again reigning supreme in Erik's lap. Both were unable to hold back twin cries as heated flesh finally slid together, Charles grateful he was already sat down, sure his knees would of given way otherwise.
Rocking his hips against Erik's, the telepath ran fingertips across the man's chest, tracing the small, serpantine scars. Some day he would have to ask where he had acquired them, but as one of Erik's long-fingered hands curled around both their cocks together, gripping firmly, Charles could do nothing other than moan incoherantly. The friction was almost unbearable, Erik setting a slow but firm pace.
Erik flicked a thumb over the tip of Charles' cock, ripping a cry from the him. Charles was so beautiful like this, open and unabashed, skin flushed from pleasure, lust-clouded eyes halfmast. Add to that the new, thrilling knowledge that the Oxford-tutoured professor could play just as dirty as kids brought up on the streets... bolts of desire rippled through Erik's body, dragging the brunette down for another fierce kiss.
'Want you,' whispered words were hot between their lips, barely more than a breath. The hand not twisting and pulling slick flesh dug into Charles' hip. Charles nodded in muted reply, squirming in a way that sent shivers down Erik's spine.
The desire to take him roughly, spit-slicked and screaming for him, was almost unbarable, but Erik pushed it aside. Maybe - no, definitely - someday, but for their first time, something would be needed. Erik lifted a hand, bruises left in its wake, blindly calling for a metal pot of something, anything. A small jar of vaseline sailed in through the slightly open window, neither of them caring where it came from, neither of them stopping to think of a thourougly confused Moira left wondering where her lipgloss had suddenly vanished to.
Charles could do nothing but stare, wide-eyed, breath strained and burning as Erik slicked long fingers, tossing the jar over his shoulder. He gasped as Erik gripped the globe of his backside, nails digging in as he lifted him forcibly upwards onto his knees. He didn't fight this time as two cold fingers pressed against him, a faint blush washing his cheeks. Fuck - he'd never done anything remotely like this before, the height of his sexual adventures being lack-luster fumbles with girls in seedy university pubs. None of that even faintly compared to the swirl of conflicting emotions when Erik so much as brushed past his arm, flashed him that smile. The dreams he'd been having since meeting this amazing man had left him tangled in his bedsheets night after night, aching with need and frustration.
Charles' breath hitched as Erik pushed those endless fingers inside him, despairingly slowly, his eyes squeezing shut at the blunt pain of being stretched. Pausing, Erik ran a soothing hand down the contours of Charles' chest, nails scraping lightly over the pale skin.
Charles squirmed his hips, gasping in suprised pleasure as buried fingertips brushed something that caused fireworks to dance across his vision. Erik was going too slow, being too gentle; Charles wanted more, more of that intensity, more of Erik.
It was Erik's turn to hiss a sharp breath as the telepath pushed himself more forcibly onto his hand, rocking his hips a little awkwardly, but oh... the sight alone would have been enough to tip him over the edge - Charles looked positively wanton, fucking himself unashamedly on Erik's fingers.
Erik's eyes darkened, a low hum rumbling in his throat as he pushed up with more vigor, scissoring his fingers, sliding in a third. Charles' brow was knit and shining with perspiration, his breathing forced and harsh. Erik wondered if he could make the professor come undone just like this, just with his hand, but Charles touched his own fingers to Erik's cheek in warning.
"Erik, please," his voice was deliciously cracked, the inward struggle to not just give up and rock himself into oblivion clear in his words. Erik nodded; that was all he needed, that simple plea.
Sliding his fingers free, cock twitching at Charles' forlorn little moan, Erik gripped the telepath's hips once more, further bruising the pale skin. Charles moved easily with him, lining himself up. Their eyes locked, time standing still for a heartbeat, hard breaths loud in their ears, before Charles slid himself down, down.
Erik's eyes rolled back in his head. So tight, so consuming, so perfect, oh God, Charles.
Charles winced at the expected pain, Erik filling him to the root, but the sting paled in comparrison to the dull thrum of pleasure just waiting to be explored. He wasn't quite sure how to move his hips, lifting up onto his knees before sinking slowly back. Erik's grip on his thighs bordered on uncomfortable, and Charles let out a shaky exhale as he drove himself onto Erik's cock with a little more force.
Erik could barely sort his jumbled thoughts into any kind of coherant actions, shivers racing through his body, causing his arms to shake. Charles' movements, however inexperienced they may be, were innocently perfect, but too fucking slow for this heat coiling in his stomach. The hold on Charles' thighs tightened even more, and suddenly Erik was using the regained strength in his arms and hips to dictate a fast, punishing rhythmn. Charles unleashed a cry of delight, momentarily allowing Erik to manhandle him in such a way, before a lust-dark shadow deepened blown blue eyes.
Knocking Erik's hands astray, Charles grabbed both wrists and pinned them to the mat either side of the taller man's shoulders. He kept up the steady pace, bending to catch Erik's lips between his own, breathless moans melding in a clash of tongues and teeth.
Pleasure was rapidly building, and Erik flexed his trapped hands with a growl, clenching them into fists as Charles rode him hard and fast. Amazing, so so amazing, but fuck not enough so close.
Charles barely registered Erik moving, hadn't noticed he was spinning until his back hit the heated mat with a sharp thud, Erik never leaving his body. Before he had a chance to complain, or even to untangle his reeling mind, Erik was pounding into him mercilessly, wrenching a strangled scream that Charles didn't realise came from him. Erik gripped the crook of both of Charles' knees, almost bending him double, Charles' palms slamming flat to the mat just for some kind of purchase. The new angle caused Erik's cock to push incesantly against his prostate with each thrust, and Charles was keening helplessly, nails digging into the plastic.
"Christ, Erik," the voice in his ears didn't sound like Charles' own, which had never before sounded quite as desperate, "I can't... I need to... oh my god, Erik..."
Erik swiftly hitched Charles' knees over his forearms so he could lean down, pumping hips never faultering, sealing his lips over the telepath's parted ones. The kiss was more chaste than either expected, one of Charles' hands coming up to thread through damp hair, hold him close as Erik's orgasm rushed to envelope him in a cascade of mind-numbling ecstasy, vision bleeding white. The muffled screams swallowed by Erik's mouth were the only warning he got before Charles was following him over the edge, muscles spasming as he came hard, warm and slick between their bodies.
Silence hung heavy in the gym as flushed bodies cooled, neither man moving anything other than lips in light, fleeting brushes.
Eventually Charles twitched, shifting his shoulders on the sticky mat, sliding his fingers across the strong curve of Erik's jaw. A small smile curled his lips. "You're squashing me."
Erik returned the smile, giving Charles a last fleeting kiss before carefully pulling out, rolling onto his back. Charles huffed, trying to catch his breath, staring at the high ceiling with really seeing it.
"So... call it a draw?"
Author: papercutperfect
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Based on this kink meme prompt.
The gang gets the idea that it would be good to get some training in hand-to-hand combat without the use of their powers, and since Erik has spent a good portion of his life kicking ass he's the obvious choice for their teacher. Charles, naturally, needs some one-on-one training that involves lots of sweaty body contact and ends in a battle for dominance between Erik and Charles. Anywho, it's all fun and games until someone gets an erection. Cue aggressive, down and dirty sex, complete with tearing clothes off each other, biting, pinching, marking... the works.
The fight was over before it truly started.
Alex smirked as he threw the first punch, aiming a perfect arch at the older mutant's chin. But his fist connected with nothing but air, the blonde stumbling forward with the force of his swing. Erik appeared behind him, melting from nowhere it seemed, grabbing Alex around the waist and bodily throwing him to the mat.
A hissed 'ooooo' went up from the watching crowd, the small team of mutants all sporting a variety of bumps and bruises left from their own fruitless battles.
"Who's idea was it to let this guy show us how to fight?" Sean whispered, the edge of fear to his voice painfully obvious. Three sets of eyes swivelled to Charles, who only smiled innocently and pointedly didn't return their gaze. The truth was, Erik was the clear choice for a leader in this particular situation; Charles had insisted the team learn how to fist-fight, just in case they ever found themselves somehow unable to use their powers against attackers.
Charles had never fought a serious brawl, unless drunken scuffles for the last call at a bar were counted. Erik, on the other hand, had had to do little more than fight his entire life. As depressing a fact as that was, it also made for a powerful weapon.
Alex pushed himself onto his elbows, a deep frown creasing his brow as he glared hotly up at Erik.
"How 'bout three out of five?" He growled, scrambling back to his feet and raising both fists in defense. Erik merely smiled, hands buried in the pockets of his sweatpants in such a nonchalent way that Alex furiously wished he could punch that smile to the other side of his face.
A hurried clapping cut the tension, Charles rushing forward with a somewhat bemused laugh. "I think you've had quite enough, Alex." The telepath slotted himself between the two men, though Alex simply continued to glare at Erik over the top of Charles' head. "You fought well, really; you almost convinced me you were going to actually hit him that last time."
Clearly not amused by the attempt at a joke, Alex turned his dagger-filled glare to Charles, before turning on his heel and slouching from the mat to rejoin the rest of the group. Raven patted him on the shoulder in what she hoped was a comforting way, ignoring the wince of pain from her wrist (where Erik had grabbed it in an iron grip as she'd tried to uppercut him). Sean remained deadly silent, eyes wide with shock. If anyone in the group had stood a chance against Erik, it had been Alex... Sean was taller than the blond teen, but was all gangily limbs and a little puppy fat. He'd never worked out a day in his life, and instantly regretted it as a dark, Erik-shaped shadow fell over him.
"You're up, Freckles." Erik jerked his head in the direction of the mats. Sean gave the others a despairing look, gulping thickly as he stepped forward.
---
"Honestly, my friend. You could of gone a little easier on them." Charles watched the line of battered teens leave the room, Sean limping in Hank's wake. Pushing floppy strands of chocolate brown hair from his forehead, he shut the door behind them, leaning back against the solid mahogany wood. "It was their first time fighting without their powers, after all."
"They need to learn, Charles. Shaw isn't going to 'go easy on them'." Erik shrugged, slowly moving up to stand in front of the shorter mutant. A small patch of sweat stained the chest of his sweatshirt, the only sign that he had actually needed to put some effort into fighting the others at times. Hank had been a suprisingly good little scrapper when pushed, those feet packing a powerful kick.
Charles nodded, smiling gently. "Maybe we can focus on blocking punches next time, instead of taking them on the chin." He made to move but was blocked by Erik's arm shooting across him, palm to wall, effectively blocking his path. Curious eyes lifted to dangerously narrowed ones.
"We're not finished yet." A slow smile played on Erik's lips, a new glint in those fathomless eyes sending a shiver of something down Charles' back. "There's still one more contestant."
Charles blinked, taking a moment to process the information, before flashing Erik an incredulous look. "Me?"
"You."
"Don't be ridiculous, my friend. I don't need to fight." Charles tried to open the door, but Erik's other arm came up, slamming it shut and trapping the shorter man in the middle.
"Your powers are strong, Charles, there's no denying that." Erik ignored Charles' protests, that mischeivious smile growing. "But against Shaw, they're useless. You know full well about that helmet he has, how it blocks you from his mind. And what if the other telepath attacks you, in her diamond form?"
Shifting uncomfortably against the doorknob in his back, Charles opened his mouth to speak, but Erik cut across him.
"Don't give me the 'wouldn't hit a woman' speech. She would kill you given the chance, Charles. You'd have no choice."
Charles shook his head, dropping his eyes to his tennis shoes. "Perhaps next time."
"What's the matter, Charles?" Erik's smile turned shark-like, their faces so close together that Charles had to tip his own back against the door to put some space between them. "Scared?"
Bingo; the magic word. Charles' jaw set, pursing his lips a little in irritation. "Of course I'm not, I just don't wish to fight you."
"Oh, is that it?" Erik's voice was clearly mocking now as he moved back, leaving Charles pressed up against the door. "Do you think you would beat me, Charles? Would you floor me with one hit, make me beg you for mercy?"
It didn't take a telepath to know that his teasing words were merely a way to get Charles to break, yet the shorter man couldn't help but feel his feathers ruffle as Erik laughed at the very idea of him in a fist-fight. He sucked in a sharp, determined breath, pushing himself away from the door.
"Right. Come on then." The mat dipped beneath his shoes as Charles rounded on Erik, lifting both fists in front of him, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet.
This only made Erik laugh louder as he advanced, and Charles would usually of taken a second to appreciate the true emotion from his friend, but right now, he was seeing red. "This isn't a time for Queensbury Rules, Charles. Should we meet at dawn, pistols at ten pace-"
Erik was violently silenced by a swift punch to his jaw, not too hard, but just enough to jerk his head to the side, utter suprise clear on his face. Charles smiled, perhaps a little smugly, waggling his fingers at Erik in challenge. Erik touched the sore spot on his jaw, the laughter and smiles gone. "Touche."
And then there was nothing but the sounds of knuckles striking flesh and cotton, panting breaths mixed with sharp cries and gutteral grunts. The fight esculated quickly, light jabs turning to harsh punches, the mat squeaking in protest.
Charles was quick, much quicker than Erik had envisioned, and though he was no way stronger than the taller mutant, he certainly managed to land a few nasty blows. He was also suprisingly resiliant, Erik's lashes growing bolder as Charles merely shook them off.
It wasn't until a line of blood trickled from the telepath's nose that Erik thought he ought to call time out, but Charles vaguely wiped it on the arm of his sleeve, staining the grey fabric, before throwing himself at Erik's waist. The movement tipped them both to the mat, Charles straddling Erik's waist, throwing a violent punch to the other man's cheek. Erik growled, his world spinning as he roughly grabbed Charles' hips and twisted them, Charles gasping as his back hit the mat with a dull thud. Before he could think about retaliating, both his wrists were snatched in a tight grip, forced over his head. He kicked and thrashed, jerking a knee up between Erik's legs. But before it reached its target, it was locked between iron thighs, Erik's face suddenly way too close.
"That isn't fighting fair, Charles. Now you're learning." Erik's voice was ragged, breath coming in short pants, those blue-green eyes like molten lava. Charles felt himself blush from the tip of his toes to the roots of his hair, blood pooling in his cheeks, in his groin, and suddenly it was imperitive that Erik get off him right now, before he noticed just what was happening, before this became the most embarrassing moment of his life.
He struggled against Erik's grip, teeth gritting in desperation, heels trying to get some purchase on the slippery mat. Erik was strangely quiet, and Charles could virtually feel the heat of his gaze as it travelled up and down his body. Please, please, don't let him notice...
Erik's thighs released their vice-like grip on Charles' knee, but instead of lifting up, those hips were suddenly descending and ohholygod -
Charles almost choked on a sharp gasp, fighting between a strangled mix of pleasure and embarrassment when he discovered that Erik was just as hard as him, hips involuntarily jumping to meet solid heat. Erik's lashes fluttered at the contact, Charles staring up at him with those huge azure eyes, breath bated, as if waiting for him to do something, anything, punch him or fuck him senseless, it didn't matter which.
Chest heaving with excersion and arousal, Erik inwardly struggled to regain some semblance of control. The atmosphere had changed dramatically within mere seconds, suddenly too hot, electric tension crackling between them. The lust coursing through him was thick enough to be bottled, and the way Charles was squirming like that... he hadn't felt this way in as long a time as he could remember; hot blood pumping through his veins, raw passion, the need to touch, to consume... it had been years. Was it Charles, or the fight that had rendered him this way? More than likely both, he concluded, taking in the delicious sight of Charles beneath him, mussed hair sticking to his forehead, the hapharzadly wiped smudge of blood painting flushed skin.
And to know that Charles was equally affected by this too - stuffy, old-fart Charles who had probably never been with a man in his life - it made his head spin.
Letting go of Charles' wrists, Erik slid a hand rapidly down the smaller man's body, eliciting a short cry as he cupped Charles through his pants. Charles' head hit the mat as stars shot across his vision, hands coming up to tug at Erik's shoulders and suddenly there were lips crushing to his, fingers looping blindly around his neck to pull him down.
Charles moaned lightly into the kiss as Erik bit at his lower lip, worrying the flesh a beautiful, kiss-swollen red. It wasn't until he tried to move, to sit up a little, that he realised this was still a fight of sorts. Erik kept him pinned beneath his weight, the kiss turning aggressive, challenging.
Far from gentle, the kiss was heated, overpowering, stubble scraping shaven cheeks. Charles fisted his hands into the front of Erik's sweatshirt, wanting it off, ignoring the fact that the sounds he was making were borderline keening whines. He would challenge anyone to not make such noises when Erik's skilled fingers were tugging at the drawstring of their pants, teasing them through the flimsy fabric.
Breaking the kiss when the need for air became too powerful, Charles tugged again at Erik's shirt, more incesantly this time, until Erik gave in and allowed it to be pulled up and over his head. It wasn't as smooth a move as it could have been, getting stuck somewhere around his chin and elbows, Charles somehow managing a short laugh before busying that mouth by wrapping swollen lips around a dusky nipple. Erik, effectively blindfolded and bound by his own shirt, sucked in an off-guard breath, back arching into the touch.
Using the fleeting moment of distraction to his full advantage, Charles gave Erik's chest a good shove, the rush of adrenaline and Erik's trapped arms making it easier than anticipated to push him onto his back. The shirt was yanked off and once again Erik found himself staring up at the ceiling, Charles on top of him, and oh when he moved like that...
Hands grabbed the rim of Charles' own shirt, but were batted away when he tried to pull it up. Obviously, the telepath wasn't going to be fooled by the same dirty trick. Erik growled low in the back of his throat, the sound of ripping fabric echoing from the high walls. Within seconds, the sweatshirt was raggedly torn apart down the middle, Charles' heart skipping lustful beats. Erik was either incredibly strong, or he was going to have to have a firm talk with the tailor that had talked him into paying such a high price for the set of matching grey sweatsuits.
What remained of the shirt was flung to godknow's where, Charles pulled from his distracted thoughts as he was tugged down. The first touch of skin on skin left them both momentarily breathless, clinging together for a heartbeat, foreheads touching, lips skimming almost tenderly, before that furious heat took over them both once more.
Trailing openmouthed kisses down sun-burnished skin, Charles sucked at one particularly tasty spot where shoulder met neck, biting down on thick muscle. Erik all but squirmed under the administrations, gripping tight on strands of floppy brown hair. That bite would leave a mark, he'd have to wear a turtleneck tomorrow - but right now, he didn't care. Not when Charles' hips rolled devilishly against his own like that, grinding their still clothed erections together, pleasure sparking behind closed eyelids. It wasn't enough, not nearly enough.
A quick glance at the gym door and the gold-plated lock turned with a soft click, making Charles inwardly shy with relief; though to be perfectly honest, the team could of pulled up chairs and popcorn and he still wouldn't of been able to stop.
Erik's lips formed the professor's name, and Charles shivered, head tipping bonelessly back - he'd never imagined someone could make his name sound so filthy, yet so much like a prayer at the same time. Erik's palms slid up his thighs, nails dragging on the fabric.
It took more powerstruggles, more scuffling rolls on the cold mat before their pants and shoes were successfully shed, Charles again reigning supreme in Erik's lap. Both were unable to hold back twin cries as heated flesh finally slid together, Charles grateful he was already sat down, sure his knees would of given way otherwise.
Rocking his hips against Erik's, the telepath ran fingertips across the man's chest, tracing the small, serpantine scars. Some day he would have to ask where he had acquired them, but as one of Erik's long-fingered hands curled around both their cocks together, gripping firmly, Charles could do nothing other than moan incoherantly. The friction was almost unbearable, Erik setting a slow but firm pace.
Erik flicked a thumb over the tip of Charles' cock, ripping a cry from the him. Charles was so beautiful like this, open and unabashed, skin flushed from pleasure, lust-clouded eyes halfmast. Add to that the new, thrilling knowledge that the Oxford-tutoured professor could play just as dirty as kids brought up on the streets... bolts of desire rippled through Erik's body, dragging the brunette down for another fierce kiss.
'Want you,' whispered words were hot between their lips, barely more than a breath. The hand not twisting and pulling slick flesh dug into Charles' hip. Charles nodded in muted reply, squirming in a way that sent shivers down Erik's spine.
The desire to take him roughly, spit-slicked and screaming for him, was almost unbarable, but Erik pushed it aside. Maybe - no, definitely - someday, but for their first time, something would be needed. Erik lifted a hand, bruises left in its wake, blindly calling for a metal pot of something, anything. A small jar of vaseline sailed in through the slightly open window, neither of them caring where it came from, neither of them stopping to think of a thourougly confused Moira left wondering where her lipgloss had suddenly vanished to.
Charles could do nothing but stare, wide-eyed, breath strained and burning as Erik slicked long fingers, tossing the jar over his shoulder. He gasped as Erik gripped the globe of his backside, nails digging in as he lifted him forcibly upwards onto his knees. He didn't fight this time as two cold fingers pressed against him, a faint blush washing his cheeks. Fuck - he'd never done anything remotely like this before, the height of his sexual adventures being lack-luster fumbles with girls in seedy university pubs. None of that even faintly compared to the swirl of conflicting emotions when Erik so much as brushed past his arm, flashed him that smile. The dreams he'd been having since meeting this amazing man had left him tangled in his bedsheets night after night, aching with need and frustration.
Charles' breath hitched as Erik pushed those endless fingers inside him, despairingly slowly, his eyes squeezing shut at the blunt pain of being stretched. Pausing, Erik ran a soothing hand down the contours of Charles' chest, nails scraping lightly over the pale skin.
Charles squirmed his hips, gasping in suprised pleasure as buried fingertips brushed something that caused fireworks to dance across his vision. Erik was going too slow, being too gentle; Charles wanted more, more of that intensity, more of Erik.
It was Erik's turn to hiss a sharp breath as the telepath pushed himself more forcibly onto his hand, rocking his hips a little awkwardly, but oh... the sight alone would have been enough to tip him over the edge - Charles looked positively wanton, fucking himself unashamedly on Erik's fingers.
Erik's eyes darkened, a low hum rumbling in his throat as he pushed up with more vigor, scissoring his fingers, sliding in a third. Charles' brow was knit and shining with perspiration, his breathing forced and harsh. Erik wondered if he could make the professor come undone just like this, just with his hand, but Charles touched his own fingers to Erik's cheek in warning.
"Erik, please," his voice was deliciously cracked, the inward struggle to not just give up and rock himself into oblivion clear in his words. Erik nodded; that was all he needed, that simple plea.
Sliding his fingers free, cock twitching at Charles' forlorn little moan, Erik gripped the telepath's hips once more, further bruising the pale skin. Charles moved easily with him, lining himself up. Their eyes locked, time standing still for a heartbeat, hard breaths loud in their ears, before Charles slid himself down, down.
Erik's eyes rolled back in his head. So tight, so consuming, so perfect, oh God, Charles.
Charles winced at the expected pain, Erik filling him to the root, but the sting paled in comparrison to the dull thrum of pleasure just waiting to be explored. He wasn't quite sure how to move his hips, lifting up onto his knees before sinking slowly back. Erik's grip on his thighs bordered on uncomfortable, and Charles let out a shaky exhale as he drove himself onto Erik's cock with a little more force.
Erik could barely sort his jumbled thoughts into any kind of coherant actions, shivers racing through his body, causing his arms to shake. Charles' movements, however inexperienced they may be, were innocently perfect, but too fucking slow for this heat coiling in his stomach. The hold on Charles' thighs tightened even more, and suddenly Erik was using the regained strength in his arms and hips to dictate a fast, punishing rhythmn. Charles unleashed a cry of delight, momentarily allowing Erik to manhandle him in such a way, before a lust-dark shadow deepened blown blue eyes.
Knocking Erik's hands astray, Charles grabbed both wrists and pinned them to the mat either side of the taller man's shoulders. He kept up the steady pace, bending to catch Erik's lips between his own, breathless moans melding in a clash of tongues and teeth.
Pleasure was rapidly building, and Erik flexed his trapped hands with a growl, clenching them into fists as Charles rode him hard and fast. Amazing, so so amazing, but fuck not enough so close.
Charles barely registered Erik moving, hadn't noticed he was spinning until his back hit the heated mat with a sharp thud, Erik never leaving his body. Before he had a chance to complain, or even to untangle his reeling mind, Erik was pounding into him mercilessly, wrenching a strangled scream that Charles didn't realise came from him. Erik gripped the crook of both of Charles' knees, almost bending him double, Charles' palms slamming flat to the mat just for some kind of purchase. The new angle caused Erik's cock to push incesantly against his prostate with each thrust, and Charles was keening helplessly, nails digging into the plastic.
"Christ, Erik," the voice in his ears didn't sound like Charles' own, which had never before sounded quite as desperate, "I can't... I need to... oh my god, Erik..."
Erik swiftly hitched Charles' knees over his forearms so he could lean down, pumping hips never faultering, sealing his lips over the telepath's parted ones. The kiss was more chaste than either expected, one of Charles' hands coming up to thread through damp hair, hold him close as Erik's orgasm rushed to envelope him in a cascade of mind-numbling ecstasy, vision bleeding white. The muffled screams swallowed by Erik's mouth were the only warning he got before Charles was following him over the edge, muscles spasming as he came hard, warm and slick between their bodies.
Silence hung heavy in the gym as flushed bodies cooled, neither man moving anything other than lips in light, fleeting brushes.
Eventually Charles twitched, shifting his shoulders on the sticky mat, sliding his fingers across the strong curve of Erik's jaw. A small smile curled his lips. "You're squashing me."
Erik returned the smile, giving Charles a last fleeting kiss before carefully pulling out, rolling onto his back. Charles huffed, trying to catch his breath, staring at the high ceiling with really seeing it.
"So... call it a draw?"