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TITLE: X-rated 1/4
AUTHOR: Kat and Tzigane
RATING: NC-17 for kink ^_~;;;;;
SERIES: Gundam street Chronicals
ARCHIVE: List archive, of course.
SUMMERY: Part of a series of mostly entertaining smutty peices -- 
with background plot behind it. There will be characters there from 
other fandoms, though the central pairing if Xavier/Magnus in this 
Else-worlds type of setting.
DISCLAIMER: Not mine. If they were, they'd spend a lot more time 
getting it on ^_~;


~~~~~~~~~~~
~X-rated 1~
~~~~~~~~~~~


Inevitably, he'd bit the hand that had fed him.


The sales were a horror, always had been, from back when he was at 
least thirteen. His father had left his mother -- and the child he'd 
considered a complete freak -- when he was twelve, and they'd only 
lasted a year before she sold him at a sale to the owner of a 
department-store.


The sheer humiliation of sitting on the third floor of that expansive
building, chained to the piano bench where he provided music to 
soothe the nerves of harried shoppers, none of whom thought a thing 
of the collared boy sitting there, had been unbearable.


He was a collared boy who had grown into a collared man, and after 
fifteen unhappy years of being a worker-slave for that one man, was 
being sold again. The man had been drunk, pawing disgustingly all 
over him, so he'd done the only thing he could think of doing.


He hadn't *bitten* the man literally, but he had smashed his head 
with an antique iron-bodied lamp. Without laying a hand on it. His 
frightened, agitated owner -- now seller -- still had his head 
bandaged in testament to Magnus's anger.


But this was a different sort of sale than he'd been to those years 
and years before -- it seemed to be mostly sexual.


Not that *that* would be so bad, could it? He'd had sex with both 
sexes on occasion, and deemed it 'not so bad'.


If only he didn't have to be sitting on his knees like that, hard body
looking vulnerable to the world.


The crowd that passed by had been many, at first, then fewer and 
fewer. No one stopped, for he was older than most of the slaves; even 
older than half of the owners, and they found little or no interest 
in him, despite the fine square jaw, the almost-white hair that 
contrasted beautifully with ice-blue eyes that should have drawn 
their attention.


It seemed that no one was interested in him at all, in fact, until 
the soft sound of steady steps came to a halt before him.


Magnus looked up, a little surprised, as was his dark and gruesome 
seller. The man before him was impeccably dressed, in a finely 
tailored navy-blue suit that fit well to his slim frame. Not a very 
tall man, nor very strong looking, though Magnus guessed that he was 
at least fit.


The strangest thing of all was his head -- he looked completely bald, 
with not a hair on his face save for eye-brows and eye-lashes.


"Hello, sir," his seller murmured smoothly, stepping forward. From the
corner of his eyes, Magnus saw the familiar flash of black hair and a 
pale face that held nearly red eyes. "Are you interested in buying 
today?"


The man before them smiled -- a slow smile, surely, hands tucked 
leisurely in his pockets as he looked over the merchandise in 
question. "Your wares are quite a bit older than average for this 
market," he said simply. "I have to wonder why you're selling such a 
lovely specimen at all."


"He is only 28, despite the hair-color. But the problem for me *is* 
his age," the dark man informed, voice slow and sticking in the air 
like honey. "He's far too old to keep any longer -- I used him to 
entertain visitors at my store and he no longer holds the proper 
appeal."


Though the careful bandaging that was mostly on one side of his head 
bespoke another possibility.


"So, you might be willing to allow me to take him off of your hands 
for... Ah, let's see. What do you believe he's worth? Even at twenty-
eight, he's a good six years older than average."


"Eight thousand," the man replied after a slow pause. "Just enough to
provide new fittings and furnishings for the slave that will replace 
him."


/Pocket change,/ Magnus thought with an inward wince.


"It seems reasonable enough," the bald man said easily. "Shall we go 
to the front and make the necessary arrangements?"


/Pocket change, perhaps,/ came the strangest thought, unbidden, not 
even his own. Indeed, it sounded much like the man who was going to 
buy him! /But it gets you out of an untenable position, and leaves 
plenty of money for spoiling you, does it not?/


As more thoughts entered his mind, not even his own, so great was the 
shock of it as he let his seller jerk on the thick *plastic* chain 
attached to a collar made entirely of leather.


"He has clothing at the front desk that comes with him," the man 
murmured. "My name is Essex. Nathaniel Essex -- yours is...?"


"Charles Xavier," the reply came quietly. "You're the owner of the 
Essex retail chain."


A very understated man, unlike so many of the Owners, and it surprised
Magnus some. Then again, so had the voice in his head.


"Erik here was a 'piano boy' for far too long," Essex murmured. "He's
wonderful at it, but not much else, I'm afraid."


"Well, we shall see," was the only answer that was given. "Sometimes, 
latent talents have a tendency to rise given altered circumstance."


The sales room was nearly empty, and a few unlucky sellers who hadn't 
sold their slaves were being ushered out, while these very last  
transactions occurred.


When Essex next spoke, it was with a hesitation. "He does have a bit 
of natural skill with mechanical things."


"Then perhaps Erik will enjoy my home. It's very modern, so I'm sure 
there are lots of things for him to tinker about with, if he should 
like,"  Charles said simply, glancing back with an almost smile at 
the slave now following them.


/Would you like that?/


Another startlement, and a lengthy mental silence before 
Magnus 'replied' with a thought of, /Very much... Charles. How... is 
it I can hear you like this?/ He hoped that calling the other by him 
name was acceptable, with none of that silly 'master, yes master' 
stuff that Essex had made him do for all those years.


"Well, if you need it, he has a very strong back -- good for working, 
also," the seller went on, as they stopped in front of the 
desk. "There's not a mark on his body from his years with me, as you 
can see for yourself."


The smile that crossed Charles's lips was slow, calm, remarkably 
sober for a smile. "Really, Essex. If I wanted that sort of slave, I 
wouldn't be at *this* auction. As for marks.." He turned and looked 
the leanly muscled man behind him up and down slowly. "It would be a 
shame to destroy something so lovely, no matter the age."


/As I said,/ was the response to Erik's question, the secondary 
conversation not distracting Charles from the primary  
one. /Sometimes, latent talents lay within us all./


/But you... are in my mind,/ Magnus thought back, brows furrowing just
slightly back in the realm of the primary question. /It... is your 
talent?/


/Yes, it is,/ was the answer. /And I recognize that you are a man of 
no little 'talent' yourself./


"If you hadn't bought him, I'd have turned about and sold him to
work-buyers," Essex went on as he requested with a look, the papers 
of sale. "How do you plan to pay?"


A quick motion of Charles's hand brought one of the clerks scurrying
forward, and a few words set the transaction in motion. "Cash. Such
transactions are better made that way, don't you think?"


All that cash in hand for such a *troublesome* slave. "Yes, I think 
they are," Essex agreed as he leaned casually against the main 
desk. "I'm very sure you'll enjoy Erik greatly." /He wouldn't sleep 
with me, now he has a master who's bought him for nothing else!/


Still standing there, well-muscled body nude save for that collar and 
chain, Magnus thought as his buyer, /How do you know about that?/


/It goes with the territory, Erik. Is that truly your name?/


"Oh, I have no doubts about that. He seems to be in excellent shape, 
and I'm sure he'll prove to be an excellent slave, with time," 
Charles said dryly as the clerk hurried back, papers and money in 
hand.


Looking over those papers and that *cash*, Essex smiled grimly, 
handing over the chain. "Enjoy. He's officially yours now. His 
clothes are in a duffle bag at the front desk."


/I'm Erik Magnus Lehnsherr,/ he thought back. It was getting easier, 
though it was still very... strange. His new master was... strange, 
but decidedly more trustworthy than Essex had been... at least, he 
seemed so.


It took not a moment's thought to reach up and free that chain, 
fingers moving quickly to the too-tight leather collar. "Well, then, 
let's go and fetch your clothing, shall we, Erik Magnus Lehnsherr?"


Quite the relief, to not have that chain tugging him along, nor the 
collar on his neck any longer. Essex had lied a little, because the 
collar had been rubbed and tugged at so often over the years that it 
had left a little scarring beneath it. "Thank you," was his barely 
audible reply.


Essex startled at that sudden pronouncement of a name he'd not told 
the man -- only 'Erik' had been written on his official papers.


The freak had been bought by another freak, it seemed.


"More marks than you promised, Essex," Charles said easily. "Cruel, 
that. It must have made it difficult to breathe. Ah, well. We'll do 
better, next time, Erik."


"I suppose I didn't notice the marks," Essex shrugged as he pocketed 
his money, and made to file away his bill of sale. He didn't notice 
the thumb tack that Magnus had found on the floor hovering so very 
close to the back of his neck.


Magnus didn't speak much -- there was little reason to, so his voice, 
when he did reply, was soft, as if he wasn't sure how loud was too 
loud. "Goodbye, Essex," he replied.


There was some amusement on Charles's face as he simply nodded. "I 
suppose not. Let's go, Erik."


It was good to follow the other man to the front desk, out of the 
main room -- once they were past the doors of the selling room 
itself, the thumb-tack found its way roughly into the back of Essex's 
neck.


/Why.../ He stopped that thought as he heard his old owner scream 
out, and savored it a little, letting the noise echo about in his 
mind. Revenge was a pleasing thing indeed /Why did you decide to buy 
me?/


"Hello, Mr. Xavier," the front desk man smiled. "You purchased...?"


"Erik, yes," Charles answered with a smile. "A rather pleasant 
acquisition, is he not? Lovely. A change of pace, if you will."


/The question, my dear Erik, is why you called out to me to buy you 
and didn't even realize it yourself./


The man, quite the regular worker at such sales, ran an appraising 
eye over Magnus's body. "Mmmhhm!" he agreed. "Not like those skinny 
little wisps you could slip under a door!" Laughing softly, he bent 
behind his desk, looking for the bag with Erik's number on it. "Here 
it is!"


/I.../ Another startlement, as those silver brows drew together in
confusion. /I did not realize, Charles./ The urge to snap, to call 
the man who'd just bought him a liar, to accuse him of trying to 
subvert him... was horribly strong -- this man could get into his 
mind! 


"Thank you, Robert," Charles said evenly. "You're always of great 
help to me and others. I'm just glad this one actually *has* clothing 
to put on, hm?" /Your resignation was thick as soon as I walked in 
the door. You were just more desperate than some of the others./


That had been expected -- he hated sales, and had only expected Essex 
to sell him to the worst person possible, though as more people had 
walked past him without a second glance, the more he'd begun to fear 
having to *return* with Essex. /We need to *talk*,/ he thought 
clearly, /About this. You know too much of me for me to know nothing 
more of you and... this, and your name, Charles./


Robert set the duffle on the desk, unzipping it for Charles. "How 
much did you pay for him? I bet he cost a *pretty* penny."


"Only eight thousand. His seller didn't understand the value of the
property. I saw no reason to inform him of it. That leaves me more 
money to spoil him with, don't you think?"


/Yes,/ Charles agreed silently. /We will talk. Soon. Once we leave 
here, then./


/Am I allowed to dress?/ he questioned, watching the man at the desk 
go through the duffle checking for any contraband. Nothing but 
clothes and a few rocks.


Charles's smile grew yet again. /Unless you feel the urge to parade 
down the street naked. Of course, if you do feel such an urge, I 
won't argue with you. You're very well put together, and I wouldn't 
mind watching./


Nothing was thought back, but Magnus did give his new owner a *look* 
as he moved to put on those clothes. There was a little frisson of 
resentment in his mind as he slid on his underwear, then a pair of 
comfortably worn jeans, a simple white t-shirt and work boots. No 
socks.


/I do not like humiliation very much./


/Then perhaps we will not have to employ any such methods,/ Charles 
told him simply, nodding at the man across the table. "Thank you, 
Robert."


Running a hand back through the thick mane of silver hair, Magnus 
sighed quietly, surveying his surroundings a moment before he picked 
up the duffle, rocks and all. "Can we leave...?" he questioned.


"The car is just outside and down the way a bit. You have an 
interesting collection, Erik," Charles commented as they moved 
towards the door, another couple hurrying ahead of them, Christmas 
tree tones.


A red-haired stick led a green-haired stick in a cloak. "Ores," he 
murmured, letting his eyes drift slowly over to his new owner. It 
would really be rather hard to tell who was the bought and who was 
the buyer, as he now bore no obvious signs on his own person of his 
position. "It kept me busy whenever I wasn't playing."


"Well, it's good that you have something that you like to do," 
Charles told him drolly as they walked out the door. He noted jumbled 
thoughts all around him, but shut them out as best he could by 
focusing more attention upon his purchase. "Is there anything else 
you particularly like or want?"


Trying to pinpoint the reason for that question and any motives 
behind it was hard. "Nothing that I can think of." After being under 
Essex's thumb for so long, seeing the floor that he played the piano 
on, the hall to the slave quarters, his own room, and nothing else 
for fifteen years, it was just good to walk on unfamiliar land, smell 
the air and center on the buzzing metals all around him.


"I only ask because I thought, before we go home, we might stop and 
pick up a few things that would please you," Charles explained aloud, 
picking up on that enjoyment, on the faint pulse of power dancing in 
the other man's veins. "I don't have a piano. You don't mind, do you?"


"I hate the things," he murmured, his tone at least giving approval 
for Charles not having one. "And I can't think of anything that would 
please me -- I simply do not know." When he first arrived at the 
store, he'd wanted to reach out and snatch toys from the hands of 
children that gawked at him as he sat there and played. Then it had 
been electronic things, just so that he could investigate them during 
his free-time... But neither urge had ever been fulfilled properly, 
even more than just a little, so it seemed that all urges and wants 
had faded, given time. /I enjoy reading,/ he thought to the other man.


"Then let us go to a book store. There are several nearby, some with 
very cute little shops and other things inside of them. We can buy 
you things to tinker with as well, if that would please you. I have a 
feeling you would like that."


Magnus could only nod approval to that as he walked beside the 
man. "It doesn't make sense to me, why you bought me, Charles. You 
don't seem as a Master." /Not that that is a complaint,/ he thought 
to himself, though he was mostly sure that the other man 'heard' it 
too.


"I don't feel the need to prove myself," Charles told him as he 
pushed a hand into a pocket and pulled out a keyring. They stopped 
beside a sporty black car, a set of beeps signifying that the alarm 
had been turned off and the doors unlocked. "We'll discuss that in 
more detail at home. For now, why not get to know one another first?"


"It seems you know much of me," Magnus mused as he looked over the 
car, something that was pure machine, the rumbling hums and buzzing 
nearly deafening until he suppressed it. Thankfully the outer shell 
was plastic.


For a moment, that smooth face became slightly disconcerted. "You 
think very loudly, Erik," Charles told him solemnly.


"I'm afraid I don't understand that."


"I'm in the habit of blocking out superfluous thoughts and noises. If 
I didn't," came the pragmatical answer, "I would very shortly be run 
mad. You, however, are very difficult to ignore. There's something 
about the way you think that drives straight into my brain, 
announcing things to me. I don't have to look for them. You send them 
out."


/I'll have to learn to stop doing that, then,/ Magnus mused as he 
looked at the car, wondering how to get into it, and how idiotic he 
looked as he wondered that. His parents had never had a car, but he 
at least knew what one *was*, if not how to use it.


Charles was very careful to get in slowly, allowing him to see every 
motion. "I have a feeling that it isn't going to be as easy as you 
think," he said lightly.


Mimicking the way to open the door -- lifting the handle that was in-
set into the door, pulling out and out, opening the door into the 
lush interior furnishings. He ducked in, sitting down on the very 
comfortable leather seat, before he pulled the door closed, not 
liking being suddenly so... closed off and trapped in such a small 
space. "How... can the seat be moved?" he asked, looking over to his 
new owner.


"If you reach to the side, there's a small console. On it are several
buttons, but two have little arrows for forward and back. Press the 
back button," Charles explained slowly.


A very small console indeed, but the button was easily found, and he 
pressed it until the seat had moved far back enough to feel like he 
had leg space. "Thank you."


"You're welcome," Charles said lightly. "Your first time in a car 
should not be uncomfortable."


"This... is a new version, isn't it?" he questioned, voice calm and 
smooth, while his mind was nothing more than a burst of curiosity as 
he took in all the wires and metals he could feel all around him.


"Yes," was the easy reply. "The latest model, in fact." Slim hands 
put the key in the ignition and turned.


Nodding, Magnus just kept looking around the inside of it. /Half an 
hour looking at this car, and I'll be able to fix any part of it./ 
There was a radio, but most of the buttons were unfamiliar, different 
from the turn-dial radio he'd had.  "Why don't you, ah... tell me 
about yourself, Charles?"


It seemed an easy enough question to answer as Charles glanced over 
at him, reaching to turn on the radio with low volume, movements calm 
as he pressed just a handful of buttons, sending the little LED 
letters scrambling from station to station before stopping on 
something light, soft, orchestral. "What would you like to know?" he 
asked. "I'm twenty-nine, almost thirty. I ran my own business for ten 
years before I sold it and now I do pretty much what I wish to do and 
ignore what the rest of the world thinks about it."


"That much has proved obvious," Magnus murmured, looking over his new
master. Not a very loud-spoken man, and he didn't seem the controlling
type... "What is it you 'wish to do'?"


"Relax. Catch up on my reading. Delve into the mysteries of talents 
like mine and your own," Charles said with some amusement. "I'm a bit 
more domineering than you think I am. There's no reason to show it 
when it's so. I'm confident enough that I don't feel required to have 
domination running out of my pores."


"You're the first owner I've seen, then, that doesn't have that 
particular affliction," Magnus mused, folding his arms over his 
chest. Just so he didn't fidget or give in to the dangerous whim to 
see how much of the car was moldable to him. "Is that why you bought 
me?"


"I bought you," he was told, "because you were a lovely person of the
appropriate age and sex and I could sense that you have a mind worthy 
of holding my interest for a very long time. Possibly..." Charles 
paused. "Possibly longer than anyone else on Earth could do so. I 
bought you because you cried out to be bought. I bought you because 
you will be just as beautiful holding a conversation in the study as 
you will be naked and crying out for surcease. In the end, I bought 
you because you will fulfill so many needs and desires in one package 
that I'm surprised anyone would sell you, much less for the piddling 
amount I've paid Essex."


"I almost cracked open his skull," Magnus informed calmly. Those cool 
eyes sparkled with an unnatural enjoyment at that particular 
memory. "And how could he admit to the police nearly dying at the 
hands of a slave?" 


Pale brows rose, a slow smile crossing those lips ever so 
slightly. "How vicious," he said simply as he watched the other man 
for a second before putting the car in drive and pulling out into 
light traffic. "Did it make you feel better?"


/Not scared?/ It was impressive, really, for the slender, *calm* man 
beside him to not really react to that. Subtly, he braced himself as 
the car started off -- what a strange feeling... /Do you react to 
anything at all, Charles?/


/Very much so, Erik,/ was the reply. It was tinged with that 
infernally placid amusement, as well. /As you'll soon learn. Why 
should it frighten me, when my powers are equal to yours? Perhaps you 
could lob a metal paperweight at me. I could lob it right back./


/So you can do more than just think at me./ That was an amusing 
thought -- perhaps he'd met his match! /Do you know what we are, by 
any chance?/


"A mutation, I suppose," Charles answered aloud, giving him another 
smile. "Something different than everyone else. I'm not sure exactly 
what, but there are more of us than you would think. You'd be 
surprised to know how many."


"I used to think it was just me," Magnus mused, letting his eyes 
drift to the road. "Because if there were more of us, wouldn't you 
think you would hear about it? In the news?"


For a moment, Charles's blue gaze turned away from the road, 
capturing his newly bought possession with his eyes. "Do you believe 
everything you see in the news, Erik? They know we're out here. 
Simply enough, it's a case of not setting the public into a panic. 
Humanity can be dangerous when it perceives itself to be threatened."


"Too afraid to admit that there are people who can better them with a
thought," Magnus agreed. "Just how many do you think there are of us?"


"Perhaps as much as a fifth of the population. No more than that, 
from what I can tell," Charles said.


"But if we are so many, why..." he trailed off, shaking his head. Why
weren't they a recognized group? Why... so many questions. "Fear, of
course."


"Some," came the agreement. "Our talents help us to get by in this 
world better than the average person. Why reveal something that will 
only make others feel inferior?"


"Your talents may have been useful to you, Charles, but they've proved
useful for me for nothing other than keeping away boredom," he 
replied. /And getting a better master than my last one,/ rose the 
unbidden thought, and it was too late to smack it down before the 
other man heard it.


There was no smugness, no sarcasm at all as Charles said 
simply, /Thank you for thinking so./ "You might decide to develop 
your talents, Erik. For what, I don't know. Searching for gold or 
some other precious metal, perhaps. It could be done. It could be 
entertaining to you."


One of the many rocks in the duffle lifted out of it after the metal 
zipper moved down without Magnus even having to touch it. He strained 
a little, and the gravelly-looking outside seemed to melt away to 
reveal a nearly smooth orb of gold. Wisely, of course, he kept it 
below the bottom line of the window.


"It already is."


"How utterly magnificent," Charles murmured, soft and low as they 
took a left and headed down a busier street. "Have you always been 
able to do such things?"


"No." The outer layer, which would prove upon closer inspection to be 
iron, came back over the gold again, hiding it away before the rock 
lowered back into the duffle and zipped shut. That rusty looking 
layer was obviously there to protect anyone from wanting to take his 
treasured metals from him. "I'd been playing for Essex for a year 
when I first noticed it. I started by using it so I could tune the 
piano without cutting my fingers."


They pulled into a parking lot and Charles stopped the car, turning 
it off before he reached out and took one of Magnus's hands, his own 
fingers tracing old scars delicately. "A shame," he said softly, 
pulling that palm up to his lips and kissing it lightly, "to be so 
cruel to someone so intelligent and lovely."


Affection was foreign to the silver-haired man, even such a light 
gesture as that. Though it certainly struck some chord within him -- 
what was that chord Emerson had written of? But Magnus couldn't stand 
simply sitting there and doing nothing, so he drew his hand back from 
those lips, to catch Charles's chin. "You are more-so."


The smile that met his eyes was warm, the hand on the back of his 
neck a surprise, firm and tender touch. "I should like to kiss you," 
Charles murmured simply, waiting as if for permission.


Ice-colored eyes looked into the blue of his new owner, searching to 
find any harmful intent before he leaned forward to give his own 
answer to that request. It was a light kiss, almost chaste, as Erik 
tested the feel of his new master -- whose lips were nothing like the 
cold fish-lips that Essex had tried to force upon him.


"There," Charles murmured huskily afterwards, gaze smiling into 
Erik's. "That wasn't really so bad, was it?"


"Not at all," Magnus breathed, taking a moment to process it before he
leaned in to test again. Maybe he'd been wrong the first time? Even 
if not, another test was more than acceptable. Firmer this time, with 
more pressure and a slight parting of lips before he drew back.


Someone, standing outside the car was laughing and that did not make 
him a very happy man. "Ignore him," Charles said simply, fingers 
soothing on Erik's face. "It isn't worth your effort or the waste of 
your anger."


/I'm sick of having people laugh,/ he thought back, fiercely, as he 
drew back, looking for the switch to get out of the car.


"Erik." There was a tone of warning in that soft voice. "No one will 
laugh at you where we're going. In fact, if you wish, we can go there 
now instead of stopping here. There is no point in harming someone 
who is simply banal and stupid."


Well, it was just as well he didn't know how to get out of the car as 
he refolded his arms across his chest, looking at the laughing teen 
with eyes that could freeze ice. That alone unsettled the boy, just 
as much as the sudden trouble he was having breathing. That was 
delicate and exhaustive for Magnus to do, to slow the flow of blood 
to the lungs, rather than just *stop* it. Clutching at his chest, the 
boy turned and ran.


"Next time he'll think before he laughs, Charles."


"I can see that we're going to have a lot to discuss, Erik."


Releasing that bit of control over the boy's system once he was out of
range, Magnus turned to his new owner. "I'm sure we will."


Shaking his head, Charles reached across and pulled the handle to 
allow Erik out of the car. "You know, you can't just go about 
threatening the norms, Erik."


"I only threaten them when they go out of their way to be asinine," 
Magnus murmured as he stood carefully, noting where that handle was 
for *next* time something happened. Something *always* happened, 
without fail... "Where are we?"


"Barnes and Noble is a bookstore," Charles told him, climbing out on 
his own side of the car and shutting the door carefully, watching as 
Erik did the same before he hit the button to lock it. "You can get 
almost anything you want inside. After this, perhaps you'd like to 
buy something besides books?" /It won't always be that way, Erik. 
There are places free of such behavior./


"I can't think of anything," he murmured, waiting for Charles to lead 
the way into the place -- so many people there, and he wondered how 
many would grate his nerves, though he was seriously trying to think 
of anything else. What did he have before? Bedding -- surely there 
would be that there. Clothes... Well, he had an extra set with him, 
that was just like what he was wearing already. "I believe I need 
clothing." /Where is this mythical utopia hiding?/


The slow smile that came over Charles's face said a lot. "All right. 
But you won't need any at all for a good week, I suspect," was the 
consensus. /It's a little place called Gundam Street. And you'll be 
sleeping with me./


"No clothes?" he asked, incredulous as he looked over at his new 
owner as the other man led them toward the stores' over-sized double-
doors. Though the prospect of sleeping with his new owner was... 
enticing, at least. Walking as he was, a step or so behind the other 
man simply out of being unsure as where to go, he let his eyes drift 
a little, enjoying the view of Charles's backside. /Slim, yes, but 
nicely solid./


/Thank you,/ was the distinctly entertained thought that came back to 
him. /And clothes, but I doubt you'll need many at first. I'll have a 
tailor come by early tomorrow or the day after. Will that suit?/


"Perfectly," Magnus answered aloud, opening the metal-handled doors 
with a cursory tap that wasn't even needed, but made the action look 
natural. /I've no idea what you have planned for me, you know. And is 
it at *all* possible to keep you from hearing *every* thought I have?/


/Then that would be no fun for me at all, would it?/ Charles teased in
response as they moved into the store. /I'll teach you that very 
soon./


/*Thank* you./


The store itself was filled with a bustle of people, and the smell of 
paper. It was, in short, a huge place. A little awe-struck by the 
sheer number of books of *all* sorts that surrounded him, Magnus 
stood where he was, just looking.


"What sorts of books would you like to begin with? We can buy as many 
as would please you," Charles said politely.


"I..." There was just so many! "I enjoy poetry and historical 
books." /And perhaps you can show me where I could find them in this 
*place*, Charles?/ "Shakespeare, Goethe, Dostoyevsky..."


"I must confess that I have similar tastes, then," was the wry answer,
"because I have leather-bound complete editions of Shakespeare and
Dostoyevsky at home, as well as the better part of Goethe. Shall we 
see, perhaps, if there is something that I do not have? Goethe... 
would be this way." That said, he turned to the right and shifted 
past several people to head down one of the long aisles.


That was completely pleasing to know -- but how could the man before 
him be anything other than an intellectual? Following after him, and 
moving with just as much grace, they soon found the 'Classic' section.


"Have you ever read 'A Funny Man's Dream'?" he asked, spotting it on 
the shelves instantly. He'd first read it by stealing a copy, but  
hat was how he'd gotten most of his books. /No need to steel here./


"Now that you mention it, no, I haven't," Charles said quietly, 
moving to stand close to him. "What's it about?"


Shifting a little, to better enjoy the simple... closeness of the 
other man, Magnus explained, "It's... rather complicated. It's been a 
while since I read it, but it's a rather psychological novella about 
a manipulative marriage."


"Would you like to have it?"


He was going to ask if he could, before he remembered what he'd been 
told before. "Yes. It really is a good book."


/You can have anything that you want, you know./


/I am still finding it hard to believe./ But he held onto the book, 
looking for others. "There's so *many* here." His hands alighted on 
Midsummer's Night Dream, but he realized that it would be in the 
complete collection Charles had spoken of.


"Go ahead," Charles told him softly. "If you'd like one of your own, 
that's perfectly acceptable. One can never have too much Shakespeare."


A slight smile touched his lips as he picked up a paper-back copy. "I
dog-ear them."


"Then you should certainly have your own copy," Charles said 
easily. "I don't mind if you do it, but perhaps it will please you 
better to have your own."


The only reply was a slight smile, as he held both books in one hand, 
still looking for anything else he could notice. "For a master, 
you're very lenient." /What will you have me doing all day?/


"Whatever pleases you," was the answer aloud, "and whatever pleases 
me." /Some places aren't meant for public displays, Erik. You will 
find that this is a different sort of slavery than any you've seen 
prior to now. I did not buy you to be hateful or cruel, though some 
would. I bought you for my enjoyment; for the pleasure I will take in 
spoiling you, in using my hand and paddle to correct you when 
necessary. In short, I bought you for the sheer opportunity of 
indulging myself in you and, perhaps, for the opportunity of allowing 
you to indulge yourself in what I have to offer./


"Different indeed," Magnus mused quietly, brows drawing together as he
looked carefully over the titles, picking up a copy of 'Leaves of 
Grass'. "I... would like to just wander and see what there is." 
The 'alone' part was unspoken. /I won't try to run./


/No. I trust you./ "I'll be sitting in the group of chairs at the 
back," Charles said simply, turning. "You can find me there when 
you're done."


That made it easier to just browse -- even though he was aware of 
Charles 'watching' him, there was no presence standing over his 
shoulder to explain his choices to.


Magnus had wandered around at his own leisure, enjoying the feeling 
of being free -- even though he really wasn't -- and just having 
the... time to waste on something so simple. Six more books were 
added to the first three, a smattering of things he'd never read 
before but had caught his ey es. Two of them were on complicated 
engineering, another on the physics of the atom bomb, and the last 
three were historical fiction by Caleb Carr. Then he found a copy 
of 'Newsweek' and 'Time'.


So after an hour and a half, he finally went to go find Charles.


The man in question sat comfortably in a wingback chair, book cradled 
in his own lap. Several people were in that little knot of seats 
reading, newspapers or magazines mostly, though some had decidedly 
different materials -- everything from books on sexuality to 
Charles's own choice of Iris Murdoch. /Finished?/


Carrying what he'd found in both hands, Magnus nodded to the question 
that hadn't even been spoken from the other man's lips. "I found many 
things."


"Most excellent," Charles murmured, rising and closing his 
book. "Shall we,then?"


"Yes," Magnus murmured, letting his new owner lead the way to the 
front and the line of people waiting to pay for their books.


It was a short matter, getting to a cashier and quickly paying for the
books, a charming smile cast her way as she peeked out shyly from 
behind blond bangs and murmured the total so fast it almost went 
unheard. Their purchases were quickly shifted into a bag and then 
they headed out and back to the car. "Is there anything else you'd 
like, Erik? We could stop and eat, or fetch things at the grocery 
store that you would like."


"I..." /You're doing a good job at overwhelming me, you know that?/ 
Magnus asked mentally, not even bothering to really project it -- 
Charles would hear, no matter what. "I've no idea."


"I'm sorry," Charles said politely. "We'll just go home, then."


"If that's what you want to do," the silver-haired man 
murmured. /This is all so... new to me. I've not had to make 
decisions of this sort in years, Charles. I just don't know *what* I 
like./


/Then we'll learn, all right? Together,/ Charles told him, unlocking 
the car.


"All right," Magnus agreed, opening the door as he'd done before, and
putting the bag of books down at his feet, with his duffle. "May as 
well."


"Do you like chocolate, Erik?" Charles asked as he started the car, 
buckling his seatbelt quickly.


"And fruit," he agreed after only a slight silence, watching the 
other man buckle up before mimicking the motion on his side and 
realizing that he'd not done that the first time. "Who doesn't like 
chocolate?"


"Then we'll stop by the store after all. What are your favorite 
fruits?"


"The ah..." He dug through his mind, trying to find the 
word. "Weintraube?" His German was so perfect it was nearly 
crystalline -- it should have been, since he'd learned that tongue 
before any others. English had entirely been learned from being stuck 
in a place where that was the only thing spoken around him. "They're 
small, green or purple..."


"Grapes?" Charles asked him. "Sweet? You make wine from them, yes?"


"Yes, grapes," Magnus confirmed. "I was looking for the word and not 
having any luck." He braced himself a little as car began to back out 
of its space.


"Most excellent. We shall buy grapes and raspberries and chocolate, 
and perhaps..." Charles paused. /With what sorts of food are you 
familiar?/


/Not many,/ he replied, folding his arms over his chest against as he 
leaned back. /Bread. Potatoes. Sometimes meat. Soup. Not very much. 
And what I stole./ There was no guilt at all associated with that 
thought -- taking food from others. It had been a necessity.


"Then tomorrow, we'll make steak and potatoes and salad -- GOOD meat. 
For tonight, perhaps you'd care to be adventurous? I'll take you 
somewhere for Italian food, a little place called Romatelli's that's 
close to home." /And they have a wonderful thing called a Mud Slide. 
Very sweet, with ice cream and chocolate and liqueur./


"I'm open to being adventurous," Magnus mused. Though, going to a 
restaurant dressed as he was would be... strange, to look so casual, 
but that was all right. Maybe things were different where Charles 
lived. /Sounds interesting./ "Do you have any family, Charles?"


For a moment, his new owner paused before answering. "Not really. A 
mother who's dead, a step-brother with whom I have no contact. That's 
about it."


"You seem too social to keep to yourself," Magnus murmured. Frankly, 
if he had *something* to do, he could live in a cave without any 
problems, but his owner seemed... different from that. "You have 
friends?"


"Several," Charles admitted. "But mostly, we stick to our own at 
Gundam Street. It's safer there, the pets are happier, the people are 
nicer. You'll like my next door neighbor -- Treize Khushrenada. He 
writes fantasy and science fiction novels, a charming fellow. The man 
one house over is Mirialdo Peacecraft, and he's a porn publisher -- 
ELEGANT porn, mind you, but still porn. And there are others."


Eyes widening just fractionally, Magnus nodded. "And they all have 
pets?" /And do any of those pets own a spine?/


"They all have pets, yes," Charles said. "As for how many of them have
spines... well. This year happens to be a remarkable year for renewing
things, I think. At the end of the street down a little lane live 
Lady Une and Mistress Hilde. They never keep pets, though truly bad 
pets are sometimes sent to them to be punished... and sometimes, pets 
are sent because it amuses a master that they be sent. Treize's old 
pet is Mirialdo, and he *certainly* has a great deal of spine, as did 
my last pet."


Of course Charles had had other slaves, but... Erik wondered, for a 
brief moment, why he didn't have that slave anymore. "What happened 
to him?" he finally asked aloud.


"Well, Henry was a very *unique* pet, in more ways than one. The five 
year contract ran out and so rather than selling him again as he had 
no urge to continue in this particular lifestyle, we parted 
amicably," was the response.


"Unique... as in he was one of us?" came the curious 
question. "Something tells me that he wasn't one of the usual boys 
you see at a sale, either." /Neither am I./


"Actually," came the light reply, "he was a brilliant scientist and 
he was covered in blue fur."


"Blue... fur?" One silver brow rose questioningly. "I'm afraid to 
ask."


"Some of us mutate more than others," Charles told him softly. "Henry 
was absolutely brilliant, but when he... changed, his family sold him 
into slavery to be rid of the embarrassment he'd become."


Those ice-colored eyes narrowed. "How cruel." /It shouldn't *be* that 
way. That was why I was sold, in a more round-about way. My father 
couldn't stand having me as a son, so he left. Then my mother sold 
me, to be rid of me and for the money./ "Did... your family turn on 
you, too?"


"Not because of my talents, exactly, though my step-brother thought 
me a freak even when we were younger. More for my sexual tastes than 
that... Or perhaps my preferences in bed simply topped off something 
that was already considered to be evil and wicked," Charles replied.


"Bigots," Magnus uttered darkly, arms still crossed.


"There will always be bigots, homophobes and zealots, Erik. It's 
hopeless to attempt to erase them just as it would be hopeless to 
attempt to destroy us and those like us."


"We can at least keep them from being a threat to us," he murmured 
calmly. "There's no reason we shouldn't."


"And how do you propose to do such a thing?" Charles asked him as they
pulled out into traffic and headed down the street.


"Give me a few days and I may have a workable plan," he 
murmured. /Just time enough to get through those engineering 
books.../ That thought most assuredly hadn't been meant for Charles 
to hear, though... he probably had. Magnus leaned back a bit more in 
his chair, sighing. "I can tell you don't approve of such an idea."


"Would you erase the humanity from us all, Magnus?" It was the first 
time that Charles had used that name, significant of his disapproval 
in more ways than one. "Because that is what you would have to do to 
separate those of us who are 'talented', who have mutated, from those 
who are still fully human."


Falling into a silence, full of thoughts so half-formed and deeply 
buried that Charles couldn't reach them without hunting them out, 
Magnus remained unmoving until the car stopped at a light.


"We at least have to gain recognition for what we are -- because 
hiding in plain sight does not work, does it?" he asked, sitting up a 
little. "The time is *slowly* passing where homosexuals were killed 
on sight, or mere notion, but only through activism and uniting."


"Perhaps," Charles agreed quietly. "That will be a very difficult row 
to hoe, Erik. The world isn't prepared for that just yet."


"Perhaps not *yet*," Magnus murmured, noting that his owner was 
calling him by his first name again. "But it will come."


"Yes. It will come. Not yet... But perhaps soon."


/Then I will be waiting,/ he replied, before speaking, "But certainly 
not in the next five years."


"No," Charles agreed. "Not any time that soon, which rather suits me. 
I'd rather have you to myself than have you gallivanting about on a 
crusade." /Call me selfish./


/I'll gallivant on my time, rather than yours./ It almost seemed like 
a promise that the moment the contract was done, he'd be gone and off 
on that crusade... but five years could change that -- or perhaps 
not, since Magnus was so strong-willed. But he seemed to relax 
slightly, looking over at his master. "Everyone is selfish in some 
way."


"Some more so than others," Charles agreed as they reached a mostly
residential area and pulled into a small shopping center. "I admit to 
being very selfish, on occasion."


"I don't believe it," Magnus mused, letting his eyebrows raise a 
little to show it. They had some rather interesting philosophical 
differences already, but that could... be very entertaining. "Is this 
near where you live?"


"Only a few streets over, in fact," was the reply. "I thought we'd 
stop here and pick up a little chocolate, some fruit, some things for 
lunch tomorrow, and then drop them by the house. If you like, you can 
take a bath and freshen up a bit before we go out to eat." /I'd 
volunteer to join you, but then we'd never leave the house./


/Is it such a terrible prospect?/ He was certainly edgily awaiting 
what Charles had in store for him, almost eagerly -- the curiosity 
was murderous. "I'd like to wash -- I didn't have a chance to this 
morning." That was because Essex had drugged him until they'd gotten 
to the sale. 


"Excellent," Charles said as they both climbed out of the car. "If 
you'd like, you can borrow some clothing until we get your own?"


"I, ah..." /Don't think I could wear anything of yours, Charles,/ he 
thought with amusement as he fell into step with the man. His new 
owner was only a *little* shorter than him, but he was... broader 
than the slim-bodied man.


A smile met that thought. /Henry was rather broad, as well. I'm sure 
there are still some shirts and things left around. Perhaps they 
would even be too big for you, though he added bulk in our years 
together. Perhaps something too small has been left./


A faint smile touch Magnus's mouth. "You have an attraction to men 
that are bigger than you are, Charles?" /How scandalous,/ came the 
tentative tease.


Both of the slimmer man's brows raised and a small smug smile made 
its way onto his face. /Oh, indeed. And perfectly *marvelous*, 
too. 'Fabalus',/ was the equally teasing reply.


The mental 'lisp' had been nearly the 'final straw' for Magnus, as he 
gave a softly pleased chuckle. "You would make a horrid drag queen, 
Charles."


A definite pleased expression crossed Charles's face as he winked at 
the other man, almost shocking in comparison to his usual 
solemnity. "Ah, well. It was worth a shot."


Grimacing a little, Magnus's mental image was clear to Charles -- red
flamenco dress, fishnet stockings. "I hope *not*." It was good to 
talk, relax... "What did you do before you 'retired'?"


"Anything and everything," Charles said easily. "The stock market, 
however, was the most wonderful place to make money. I always 
wondered if my talent wasn't simply a type of insider trading that no 
one would ever know about, but there you have it. Add to that a bit 
of this and that and before you know it, I had enough money to do 
what I wanted for the rest of my life."


"And that's what you're doing now?" Magnus asked as they entered the
over-air conditioned store. Yet another type of place he couldn't 
remember ever having entered in his life.


"Mostly," was the reply as Charles picked up a basket, as supremely
masculine at grocery shopping as he seemed at everything else. "It 
takes very little for money to grow and grow and grow, with the right 
nudges. It helped that I started out with a good bit."


"Ah, to have been born with a silver spoon in your mouth. Or any sort 
of spoon other than tin," he mused aloud. "I do hope you know where 
you're going."


"Straight to the vegetables and fruits," Charles informed him and, 
indeed, there was a sign a very few feet from them proclaiming an 
area to be 'The Garden'.


"What a strange store," Magnus mused, walking beside Charles. The air 
was a bit crisper in 'The Garden', definitely smelling of produce, 
and just buzzing with energy. From the lights above him, to the 
wiring through the displays and the metals themselves. His eyes 
narrowed just enough, concentrating to 'widen' his vision to include 
the technicolor of the magnetic fields that surrounded them.


"About average, for a grocery store, I'd say," Charles returned with a
simple smile, "though perhaps you'll find a few things stocked here 
that aren't in most places. Now, then... grapes... Do these look 
acceptable to you?"


He turned enough to look at them, and was silent as he dropped away 
the 'film' he'd placed over his vision, blinking it away for a moment 
before uttering, "Yes, perfectly." /Will you be able to teach me 
better control over parts of my power?/


/Perhaps,/ Charles told him, that thought tinged with a certain 
softness, an overlaying tenderness. /Once I learn enough about it, at 
least I can teach you certain things to make it easier to deal with, 
as well as ways to shield some of your thoughts. I don't want to 
control your every waking moment./ The grapes were lain carefully in 
the basket and he moved on to look at the red ones.


Once more, a ghosting smile touched his lips, and he went back to 
simply listening to the humming throb of the metal as he followed 
Charles on to the next display. "I'm glad you're willing to teach."


"Why shouldn't I be?" he was asked as another bundle of lovely grapes 
was chosen and placed carefully in the basket. "I will never deny you 
knowledge, Erik. You're an intelligent man, and intelligent people 
please me."


/I didn't think someone like you would deny me it,/ Magnus replied, 
silently approving of the grapes -- in all likelihood, Charles could 
have put a dead rat in the basket, and he'd have approved.


One hand reached out and lightly touched Magnus's, fingers coiling 
about fingers for a moment. "Is there anything else you'd like here? 
Before we go look at the chocolate?"


That was a strange touch, and brief as it had been, Magnus had liked 
it -- it gave a little validation to the unexplainable physical 
attraction he had to the other man. /Are you *sure* you'd not like to 
share a shower...?/ he asked, only half joking as he picked up an 
orange and put it in the basket, not deigning to explain why.


/Only if you don't want to eat tonight,/ was the return 
thought, /because I think once I have your skin next to mine, you 
won't be getting out of my bed any time in the next... oh, twenty-
four hours, at least./


"I'll set a timer once we get back from the restaurant," he spoke 
seriously, with another faint smile. It was so good to relax, even so 
little... /You're very calming to be around./


That caused those brows to raise again, a slight smile coming over 
Charles's face. "I'm glad you feel that way." /Though there's a 
bedside clock, if you really wish to check./


/I'm up to the challenge,/ he thought back, moving a bit away. "So, 
where is anything else here...?"


"Scattered everywhere," Charles told him, feeling entirely pleased 
with himself. "You have to read the signs to find anything. Stores 
tend to lump things together in one general place, but scatter 
commodities in random order so that you have to look at *everything* 
before buying something."


"Rather like the stock market -- lead on, Charles," Magnus uttered 
with a flourishing gesture that ended pointing at a wall.


"An excellent comparison," Xavier agreed as they moved to the end of 
the aisles and headed for the other side of the store.


More metal, more lights, and *boxes* upon *boxes* to take in! And 
there was supposed to be food inside all of those 
boxes? /Incredible,/ he mused inwardly. /There is so much, available 
to so few./


/To most of the population,/ Charles's thought came gently, /though 
some owners are not so good as to provide these necessary things. 
Sometimes I wonder at our small system of slavery. People such as 
Essex should never be allowed to own a slave, nor should anyone be 
treated as such in the manner that you've been treated./


"It's not just that," he murmured, speaking from the voice of 
experience. "There are people who cannot *afford* to buy food, 
Charles. Not just negligent owners..."


For a moment, blue eyes moved quickly to peer at Magnus and then 
shifted back to the aisles. "I'm sorry, Erik. I don't think I meant 
it quite like it sounded. My thoughts, I admit, are much on you 
today."


/It would appear so,/ he mused, still following the other man. There 
was no particular guilt attached to his knowledge that suddenly he 
was living with a privileged man who would indulge his whims for the 
satisfaction of doing it. It was just fate, that he could eat food 
that he'd not been able to afford last time he'd set foot into a food-
store. /Part fate, part luck./ Moving a half-step forward, he let his 
fingers brush again over Charles's, tentative in the touch. Fingers 
curled about his own as Charles tugged him lightly to turn down an 
aisle. "The chocolate is here, and it's good chocolate; very good, 
because... Ah, yes. Hello, Dorothy," he greeted a tall leggy blonde 
as they came closer to the selection of chocolates.


"Why, hello, Charles!" the woman said with a brilliant smile, her eyes
flitting to Magnus. "Oh, magNIFicent!"


Behind her was a girl who was dressed... in barely anything at all, 
and Magnus was sure his cool expression had turned into one of mild 
shock. /Is that legal?/ came the startled thought.


/It is in this neighborhood,/ was Charles's amused response. "I see 
you're visiting Treize...?"


"Oh, NO, not at all!" Dorothy replied, smiling. A box of freshly 
dipped chocolate covered strawberries lay in one hand and she handed 
it to the barely-clothed woman beside her. "I've bought the gold 
Victorian across the street and just down from Treize. Grandfather," 
she noted, cornflower eyes sparkling deliciously, "is going to be 
absolutely FURIOUS."


/The neighborhood with the mistresses and the porn photographer,/ 
Magnus seemed to mentally file away, shaking his head as Relena 
fluttered pale lashes at him. /I may as well introduce myself...?/


/Yes, you might as well,/ Charles thought, amused once again, /if you 
can get a word in edgewise./


"And THIS, this is Mirialdo's sister. Isn't she lovely?" Dorothy said
happily, bringing Relena closer.


/Backbone, you said?/ Magnus asked in a quiet mental tease as he 
looked at the girl -- pretty, yes, if you liked wide-eyed and... 
female. Not that he had any particular thing against women, but he 
didn't consider them worth his time in bed if they weren't going to 
hold their own. "Hello," Magnus greeted in a quiet voice, more used 
to speaking, but hesitant when not talking to his new owner. "I'm 
Erik Magnus Lehnsherr. Pleased to meet you."


"Princess Relena Leanna Peacecraft," the honey-haired girl responded,
dropping into a deep curtsy which revealed every single charm she had 
in the nonexistent bit of leather she was wearing. "I am also pleased 
to meet you."


"Isn't she charming?" Dorothy asked with a sigh.


"Very," Charles agreed. "Quite sweet. It's difficult to believe she's
Mirialdo's sister!" /Well, some of them have backbone./


/I'll believe it when I see it, Charles,/ he returned, obviously not
believing.


"You're very nice-looking men," Relena observed with a wicked little 
smile.


"Indeed," Dorothy agreed. "Charles has quite the eye."


It didn't fluster him at all, but it was slightly embarrassing for 
him, standing beside Charles as he was. /'Quite the eye'?/


/She approves of my choice,/ Charles thought, almost laughing.


"You're a beautiful man, Magnus," Dorothy said,  
smiling. "Congratulations on such a wonderful find, Charles."


/Just checking./ Relena was still looking at him with ogling eyes, and
Magnus suppressed the urge to slide an arm over Charles's 
shoulders. "I would prefer to believe that I'm lucky he found me 
rather than the other way around."


"Perhaps a bit of both, then," Dorothy said with another of those 
brilliant smiles. "Now, then. I *do* suggest the chocolates with the 
raspberry liqueur. TERRIBLY illegal in the states, you know -- 
chocolates with liquor in them. Bizarre little prudes. Well, 
princess? Shall we go home, where I shall beat you 'til you weep and 
then feed you strawberries?"


"Oh! Yes, please?" Relena smiled brightly, looking even more eager and
submissive than she'd looked before. Passing through her mind was the
thought that they might role-play, too, and then her eyes drifted 
back to
Magnus.


/I'm going to stay quiet, Charles./


/Probably an altogether wise step to take, Erik,/ was the response as 
Xavier smiled, took Dorothy's offered hand and lightly kissed her 
wrist. "Do have a good time, Dotty, and say hello to your grandfather 
for me, won't you?"


"Of course!" she said, giving him a wicked smile. "He'll absolutely 
wet his pants when I do!" That thought seemed to cheer her greatly as 
she turned her princess and smacked her along down the aisle.


"Goodbye, Erik!" Relena chortled as they disappeared around a corner.


The silver-haired man winced slightly, raising an eyebrow at 
Charles. "Are they typical for your neighbors?"


"No," Charles said, watching them go. "No, Dorothy and Relena are 
*not* typical of my neighbors. My neighbors tend to be mostly *men*," 
he said with a certain bemusement.


/And *men* that act like that are a step up, supposedly?/ he 
questioned wryly, letting his eyes drift over the shelves in front of 
him.


That gained him a soft laugh as Charles watched him to see what he 
would like best. "Well, perhaps. We'll see. Most of the pets this 
year will be new. Mirialdo has been freed to pursue his own pet; 
Touga Kiryuu obviously found something green to suit his tastes from 
what I saw as we left the sale, and a fine thing, too, considering 
his family's deaths. Treize... ah, Treize is probably looking for 
something a bit more *yielding* than Mirialdo this year. And, of 
course, there are Trowa Barton and Heero Yuy. God only knows what 
*they'll* buy."


"Two men shopping for a third?" he asked with amusement, looking over 
all the foil wrappers, barely able to concentrate as he could only 
hear the high buzz of the wrappers.


For a moment, Charles stepped very close to him, lips almost at his 
ear. "What would you like, Erik?"


"I've no idea -- there's nothing I recognize," he murmured, startled 
only faintly by that closeness. It was nice, in its own ways... "I'll 
trust your judgement."


"Here." Reaching out, Charles picked up the chocolates Dorothy had 
suggested and put them in the basket, as well as a bar made of 
caramel and chocolate. "We'll take these, then. Ready to go home?"


"Very much so," Magnus murmured, closing his mind off from the hum 
around him for the first time since he'd been bought. It was so 
tempting to want to manipulate it all... /But I can't./ And for the 
first time, his mind was silent to Charles.


"Erik?" the gentle question posed. "Are you all right?"


"Why?" he asked curiously. "I'm fine." /It's not like you can't see 
what I'm thinking,/ he mused, but the thought didn't leave his head 
at all, and the lack of response to it confused him.


"You're sure?" There was some hesitance there as Charles stopped in 
the aisle, moving to look directly into his face, eyes capturing that 
icy-blue gaze.


Now Magnus was mildly panicking, at least inside, as he tried to 
figure out what he'd done, and how to undo it. "I tried to convey to 
you... If you answered, I didn't hear it," he murmured, expression 
faintly concerned as he backtracked. "There's too much metal around 
me to hear properly... so I blocked it out."


"Well, then, that seems to be the answer to keeping me out of your
thoughts," Charles told him. He wasn't sure, in that moment, if he was
*proud* that Erik had figured it out... or if the sense of loss that 
he felt was going to overwhelm him.


Silver brows stayed furrowed together, as he concentrated until the 
buzz was back, nearly making useless again his physical 
hearing. "I... will have to learn a better way to do things than to 
just shut down my 'talent' entirely."


"Come along, and we'll leave. Maybe that will make things better, 
though," Charles said, "I see that I'll have to make quite a few 
changes to my home."


Walking beside his new owner down towards the cashier, Magnus was 
quiet. Mostly. /What sort of changes?/


/For one thing, I think I'll have to replace most of the doors. 
They're metal. Most of the house is very MODERN. There's metal 
everywhere./


/Don't bother,/ he replied. /I'll just get hearing aids. I'd rather 
go deaf than not have metal around me anymore. I'll be fine as long 
as your house isn't made of aluminum./ "It has a higher pitch."


The smile that came in answer to that seemed genuinely 
pleased. "Bronze," Charles told him, nodding. "Heavy, but such 
interesting things can be done with it."


"Bronze?" That had a low, pleasant warbling pitch... "The entire 
house?"


"Ah, no, just the doors. The outer part of the house is made of 
stone -- mostly quartz -- and the inside is strictly woods and 
metals."


"Then I'll be fine," he murmured as they got in line behind a 
deceptively normal looking couple.


"Good," Charles murmured. "I have a feeling that something will have 
to be done about the bed, however. Cast-iron."


Cast iron... "It would be best, yes, to replace that with something 
lower." He wasn't going to ask why the bed was cast iron. It was 
awkward to stand in line, something he'd never done for very long 
before, and the slightly fidgety shifts gave that away.


It was only a few moments before it was their turn, purchases made and
quickly deposited in little plastic sacks so that they were once 
again on their way out the doors. "What would you suggest, Erik? 
Wood, perhaps? Hm, I wonder if I could get something strong enough..."


"Steel?"


"The sound of that wouldn't bother you?" Xavier asked, keying open 
the trunk and depositing the groceries there before closing it gently.


"Some. Perhaps we'll see how pure the cast iron is. Iron has a low 
sound," he murmured, standing at the passenger side door.


The chunk of the locks opening sounded and Charles slid in, watching 
as Magnus so carefully did the same. "Erik," he said solemnly, "I 
personally would rather have every ounce of your attention on what's 
going on in the bed than the sound of the metal singing to you."


"It's hard to ignore it," he murmured, wishing... /Is there any way I 
can share with you what it's like, Charles?/


/Perhaps,/ Charles answered. /We can experiment some and see what 
happens. All right?/ They were in traffic again and headed down a 
tree-lined street.


"Fine." And it was, really. His new owner was just as whim-filled and
stubborn as he was. Willing to put up with back-talking and his own
eccentricities... Letting his mind drift, along with his eyes, he 
looked at the road and the street around them.


It wasn't long before they took a right and stopped at a wrought iron 
gate with a small guard-house. A man in a very precise and oddly 
French-looking and militaristic uniform hurried out, the little cap 
on his head only slightly askew. "Oh, hello, Mr. Xavier, sir!" he 
greeted cheerfully. "Got someone new there with you, I see!"


"Indeed, Walker. You can enter his name for me, hm? Erik Magnus 
Lehnsherr. Erik with a 'k'."


"How do you spell the last name?" Walker asked politely. "We've had an
influx of new people today, you know? Was there a sale today, sir?"


/You live behind a gate?/ came the question from the man beside him 
in the car.


"L-E-H-N-S-H-E-R-R," Charles spelled calmly. "Yes, one of the biggest 
ones of the year, in fact, Walker." /Yes, behind a gate. It keeps the
neighborhood quiet and calm and the press out, to be honest. We had 
some problems when it was learned that Prince Mirialdo of the Sank 
Kingdom was serving out his term of slavery here./


/Your neighbor's slave was a prince? And now he's a porn 
photographer?/ Magnus looked at those sturdy metal gates. /I think 
they might be more to keep this street *in* than anyone out./


"Well, I'm glad you found something you liked," Walker smiled, 
penning down the name. "I'll enter him into the system for you, all 
right?"


"Thanks, Walker," Charles replied as the guard stepped back and 
flipped the mechanism to open the gate. /Perhaps,/ he told Magnus 
with a certain relish, /you're right./


/I'm sure that I'm right,/ he replied, looking at the revealed street.
"Which house is yours?"


"The first one on the right," Charles replied, indicating the house 
coming up.


It was a large, two-story stone house that loomed and looked slightly
threatening compared to the house next door to it, which was of a 
completely different style. Wood-trim, obviously well kept, and the 
drive-way itself was lined with ornamental stones.


"Does it suit you?" he asked as they slowed and turned into the drive,
pulling up and waiting for the garage door to finish lifting.


There was an urge to tell Charles that it was *his* house, and ask 
why he cared if it suited his slave, but Magnus only nodded. "You 
live in a nice house." /With insane neighbors./


His master couldn't help but laugh. /Just wait./


"It gets worse?"


"Only more interesting," Charles replied as they drove into the 
garage and parked, shutting off the car. "Just wait. When you see 
Mirialdo, you'll probably just stare with your mouth open for the 
first five minutes or so. That's all right. He's come to expect the 
reaction and it doesn't embarrass him any longer."


"I'm having trouble believing that," Magnus mused, feeling the metal 
within the house... yes, he could tolerate it well. It was less, 
actually, than the amount he'd been exposed to before.


"Grab your things," Charles told him as he climbed out and opened the 
trunk to get out their bags. "I'll show you where to put them, where 
the shower is, and then I'll put away our few groceries, hm?"


"All right," he agreed, picking up his duffel and the load of books 
easily, both held slung over one shoulder with one hand. "Lead on."


The entrance from the garage led into the kitchen, a room filled with 
stark pickled oak cabinets bound with wrought iron scrollwork. The 
stove and oven were part of an island in the center of the small 
area, accented by white appliances -- the kind of white that only 
people with no children (and no intention of having children) ever 
have, glossy and gleaming with an almost blinding light. The floor 
was a pale color as well, a very light blue that reflected and made 
the kitchen even brighter. "This is home."


That faint smile danced on Magnus's mouth again. "Home," he echoed, 
musing that, yes, it could feel like home, and very fast. The place 
*felt* lived in, even if it didn't look it.


The groceries were deposited on a small kitchen table in the corner 
and Charles slipped his hands in his pockets. "Shall I take you to 
the bedroom, Erik?" There were undertones in that voice that almost 
throbbed with want. /You know, I haven't desired anyone quite this 
much in a very long time. I must admit that it surprises me, 
somewhat./


"I'm certainly surprised myself," Magnus murmured. /Show me to the 
bedroom, Charles,/ he sent back, arms folding over his chest once 
more as he wondered what those nimble hands would feel like in *his* 
pockets.


Xavier led the way through the living room, a masterpiece of white and
silver with exposed wiring that lent a certain cyberistic charm to 
the whole thing, and up the stairs, taking a left and entering the 
first room on the left. "This is it, Erik. If you'd like a shower, 
the bathroom is right through there and towels are in the cabinet..."


"Is this *the* bedroom?" he asked, looking at the spacious place, with
furniture that fit the general look of the walls. /Or do we sleep 
apart...?/


"THE bedroom," Charles said solemnly, "where we sleep together. Come 
and see if you find the bed bearable."


He neared it, setting his duffle and books down just inside the door. 
It was... "Bearable," he smiled slightly, looking back at his new 
owner. "Very much so. It's hollow."


Charles eyed the lovely black piping that made up his rather unique 
bed and smiled. "Good. I wouldn't want you distracted," he almost 
purred, already considering a few very lovely thoughts.


"I'll be very disappointed if it's all been hype," Magnus uttered 
with a wry expression as he moved to go into the bathroom. "I'll 
shower quickly."


"No worries," Charles told him with a wicked smile. "You'll find extra
clothing on the left side of the closet, if you're of a mind to try 
it."


"I'll try it," he murmured with a slight nod, before slipping quietly 
into the bathroom. Everything he did was quiet, it seemed -- not the 
shy sort, but the silence of someone who found little use in noise.


Fifteen minutes of a 'short shower' later, Magnus came out of the 
bathroom, carrying his clothes of before, with a large blue towel 
wrapped around his waist, rubbing a white one through his hair.


The room was empty, as expected -- Charles had gone to put away 
groceries and to give him a little time alone -- so he had a bit of 
leeway for exploring the area. First, though -- clothing. A look 
through the closet proved... Useless, really. Henry had been a big 
man all around, and none of his clothing fit Magnus's straight 
posture properly. So the jeans went on again, but he put on his extra 
under-shirt. It at least felt cleaner.


Then, standing in the center of the room, Magnus let all protective 
walls drop from his power, as he let himself drift in the electric 
pulse of the room and its objects.


In the doorway, Charles stopped and watched the almost orgasmic 
expression so clearly on Magnus's face, taking in every nuance of it 
as he simpl 
waited.


It went on for several minutes, and would have gone on until he 
slipped into unconsciousness if he'd not been standing up when he'd 
started -- what broke him from it was the jar as he dropped forward 
onto his knees.


"Erik?" Charles asked softly.


His head as throbbing, but that throb faded as he unlocked himself 
from the throb of the room... "Electromagnetic," he murmured to 
himself, head hung down as he pulled himself together, staying as he 
was.


"Shall I help you up?" was the soft question as Charles moved closer 
to him.


"That's what I can manipulate," he spoke further, laughing softly as 
he started to stand. "Electromagnetics!"


Head tilted to the side, his master contemplated the matter even as 
he took Magnus's elbow and gave him added leverage. "Yes," he said 
finally, slowly. "I can see that would be so."


/I hadn't realized,/ he thought to Charles as he accepted that 
leverage to stand up. /I hadn't known that was what it was./


"You've a very powerful talent. I could only feel it once you began 
to use it, though."


Now standing, so close to the other man, Magnus looked into clear 
blue eyes. "Then how did you know I was talented at the sale?"


"What I felt then was something a bit different; a smaller talent, 
one not so... hm. One not so overwhelming," Charles said quietly.


"The part that was playing with the screws on the side of my box," 
Magnus murmured. "You *have* to help me harness this, Charles."


Thoughtfully, Charles looked at him. "Regimentation..." he murmured to
himself contemplatively. "Hmmm..."


"Regimentation?" he questioned. /Be fair -- you hear my thoughts -- 
share yours./


"Strict schedules. Exercises, mental and physical. That sort of 
thing... It might help to provide the beginnings of control. I can 
show you that much, but as my talents are so different from yours, 
I'm not sure how much more I *can* do..."


/Try,/ Magnus challenged. "But for now... dinner?"


"Dinner," Xavier agreed, still holding him close. "Yes."


That was nice, too, in its own way... Magnus shifted the tiniest bit, 
before lifting Charles up, with a bit more strain than he'd lifted 
the books and rocks. "You'll have to drive."


Being lifted like that was something of a shock, and Xavier's eyes
registered that surprise at first. "Yes, I suspect that's so. 
Particularly since you have no idea where we're going."


"Or any idea how to drive," Magnus finished for him, taking the 
right, the right, then carefully starting down the stairs. /You are 
very light./


"Perhaps, Erik, you'd like to put me down before we tumble down," 
Charles said softly. If he'd had any hair, it would undoubtedly have 
been standing on end at that point.


"I have," he quoted as he took each step smoothly, clear down to the 
bottom, "a very strong back." And then he set Charles down, at the 
foot of the stairs. /You are certainly a man more of talk than 
action. Had I left it to you, we would have talked about going to 
dinner for an hour./


"In case you have not heard, Erik," Charles murmured, straightening 
himself once he had both feet on the ground, /patience is a virtue./


"There is Patience, Charles, and then there is wasting time. I can 
tell the difference." Hands resting just against his own pockets, he 
watched Charles straighten his clothes out. "I tried on a few shirts, 
but none of them fit properly."


"That's all right. Romatelli's is a place well accustomed to unusual
appearances," he was told with some amusement. "I'm sure you're fine. 
Shall we?"


"Indeed -- lead on!"


~~~~~ 



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TITLE: X-rated 2/4
AUTHOR: Kat and Tzigane
RATING: NC-17 for kink ^_~;;;;;
WARNINGS: Kinkiness; light bondage and collaring, sex, a little spanking,
and a lot of sap. ^_^
SERIES: Gundam street Chronicals
ARCHIVE: List archive, of course.
SUMMERY: Part of a series of mostly entertaining smutty peices --
with background plot behind it. There will be characters there from
other fandoms, though the central pairing if Xavier/Magnus in this
Else-worlds type of setting.
DISCLAIMER: Not mine. If they were, they'd spend a lot more time
getting it on ^_~;


~~~~~~~~~~~
~X-rated 2~
~~~~~~~~~~~


"I'm glad you've enjoyed dessert so much, Erik," Charles chuckled, watching
his pet sip a bit harder at the ice cream and liquor concoction in front of
him.


Franco, the maitrê'de, had taken one look at them and ~known~. "Yes, yes, I
have a special table for you, Mr. Xavier, yes, yes!" he'd been assured and
the two of them had very quickly been given a table in a lovely room that
was, for the most part, separate from all of the others. He'd been in that
room on more than one occasion and (sometimes) very interesting things were
known to happen in it, things he found rather delightful.


He was contemplating one such thing just now.


It probably wasn't helping that they were over halfway through a very
delicious meal and that Magnus wasn't very much in touch with the world. To
start, he was humming the 1812 Overture, and beyond that, it was obvious
that drinking was not something he had a very high tolerance for.


Charles found it *utterly* adorable.


"Erik, my sweet, I do believe that you are quite *drunk*," he announced,
finishing off his own glass of wine with a little chuckle.


"'m not!" he protested, looking into the empty glass for a moment before he
went on humming. "I'm Erik." And his mind was an open door, a wash of
jumbled thoughts -- most of them were horny, and telling him that they
should get back to the house and *soon*.


"Finish what you're eating, Erik, and we'll go home, very soon, in fact, not
five minutes from now," Charles said with a great deal of amusement.


"Done," he announced, setting his fork down mid-bite, and starting to stand
up, before stopping. /Everything's spinning!/


"Shall I tote you to the car, Erik?" Charles chuckled, moving quickly to
keep him from falling.


"Mmhmm," he mumbled quietly, trying to stand again before he gave up and
went back to humming.


With a laugh, Xavier swung the larger man into his arms, seemingly
effortlessly, and headed out of the room, pausing up front to murmur
something to Franco, who nodded sincerely, beamed at Xavier and rushed off
into the back.


He pushed through the door and headed out to the car, contemplating how to
get Magnus into it for only a moment before he moved to allow the other
man's feet to drop to the pavement. "Be still," he said, digging his keys
out of his pocket. "Don't fall!"


There was still an arm around his waist, and Magnus looked terribly
quizzical as he did stay still. "How'd you do that?"


"Do what?" Xavier chuckled, getting the door opened and keeping Magnus half
propped against the car to aid in his balance.


"Pick me up," he murmured, eyebrows drawn together.


Laughing, Xavier began to get him into the car. "Don't you know? I'm
stronger than I look," he teased, buckling Magnus's seatbelt.


"Hmph." Indignant even while smashed, Magnus folded his arms over his chest
after Charles had strapped him in.


For a moment, Charles paused, leaning over and kissing him, a wonderful
heated sort of kiss that sent tingles straight down to his toes.


/Can we kiss other than in cars?/ he requested as one arm unfolded to pull
Charles in closer.


"Yes," Charles answered huskily. "Only let me pay Franco, since he's on his
way out to the car, and then we'll go home and I'll kiss you all you want."


"All right," came the faintly petulant agreement as he let Charles drawn
back.


"It'll only take a moment," was the breath against his lips, one more kiss,
and then the door shut. A few quick steps, money exchanging hands, and
Franco hurried back inside, pleased with himself. Charles could hear the
gleeful thoughts running through his head, though he tried to shut them out.


/I love those Gundam Street people!/


Chuckling, he opened his door, sliding behind the wheel and glancing over at
Magnus.


Magnus was humming again, softer now, and was toying with what had once been
the cigarette lighter.


"Thank god I don't smoke," Charles muttered to himself as he started up the
car.


The plastic part had been removed by ingenious hands, and Magnus was obvious
enjoying simply melding the metal as he floated it in front of him.


It was with no little amusement that Charles reached across and gently
placed a hand between Magnus's legs as they drove out of the little parking
lot. A softly startled sound rose from Magnus, as he sat back in the chair,
shifting his hips up a little towards Charles's touch. The metal orb wobbled
a little, shape falling on one side.


It wasn't much effort to slide loose the zipper on those pants, get his hand
inside and mold that delicious rock-hard flesh through heated cotton with
his fingers. "I take it you like that," he murmured, driving slowly.


Softly hissed breath slid out from between Magnus's teeth as he stifled a
moan and let the ruined piece of metal drop to the floor. All that he
managed in answer was a hazy 'mm-hm' that could have really been anything;
but his body was more expressive, and he pressed up against Charles's hand.


Carefully, Charles flicked open the button of Magnus's jeans and sent his
hand ferreting beneath those cotton underwear, filling his hand with
deliciously silken flesh even as he pulled to a halt outside of the small
guard house and sent the window down. "Just me, Walker," he almost purred,
still stroking Erik consistently.


/God, that's so good,/ Magnus thought, over and over again as he latched one
hand onto Xavier's forearm, intent on keeping that aching touch there.


"All right, Mr Xavier," Walker smiled as he noticed what else was going on
in the car -- normal, considering where they lived. The gates opened. "You
have a nice night!"


"No worries there," Charles remarked with a wink as he sent the window back
up and drove through them for the short trip down the block and into his own
garage.


Magnus was completely enjoying himself as he kept rocking into those fingers
that molded him slowly, making incoherent noises of pleasure. /So good.../


"Erik," Charles said softly, "we're home now. I'm going to take my hand off
of your cock, all right? And then I'll come around and get you out of the
car." /And then I'll take you upstairs and fuck you senseless.../


He made a softly protesting noise, loosening his grasp a little. "Nnn."


"Only a moment, Erik," Charles whispered, "and then we'll go upstairs, all
right?"


He drew back his grasp, laying back in the seat to catch his breath again --
at least lower it beyond needy panting. /Tease./


/You know it,/ was the response as Charles hurried out of the car and
unlocked the door to the kitchen before returning to remove Magnus from the
car.


Magnus was already standing though, a tiny bit more sober than before.
/Trying something new,/ came the still blurry thought, with an aching need
undercurrent to it. /Running blood faster to de... whatever./ There was a
mental rationalization, half formed, that involved something about moving
his blood through his kidneys faster to get sober sooner.


But trying to do it while still drunk probably wasn't smart.


"Erik," Xavier said as he returned, slipping an arm about his new slave's
waist, "you might not want to try that 'til you're sober, my sweet."


"But this'll get me sober!" he protested, though not the arm around his
waist. He could stand mostly on his own, but the direction thing was tricky.


"Shhh," Charles encouraged. "Just come upstairs with me, Erik Magnus
Lehnsherr."


They made their way through the kitchen, and up the stairs, slowly going as
Magnus clung with one hand to Charles, and with the other the banister.


"You aren't going to fall," Xavier assured him. "Shall I pick you up again?"


He shook his head vigorously, still going up those stairs to the top. "I can
walk."


"Mmmmhm," Charles returned, stroking a hand down to touch the luscious rear
that his new slave sported. /Just a bit farther.../


Magnus jumped a little at that touch, though he barely kept walking. To his
variably pickled brain, it was obvious that Charles wanted to be 'on top'.
Part of him was protesting it, and the other part was too wound-up to care.


That nervousness prompted a slight smile from Charles as he allowed his hand
to move further down, pushing Magnus gently towards the bedroom. "Just a bit
farther," came the low-voiced murmur.


"Too far," Magnus mumbled, walking where he was pushed towards.


With a little light laughter, he was swung easily into Charles's arms and
toted towards the bedroom. "Are you ready, Erik?" Charles whispered. "Or had
you rather sleep off your drunken state before I make you mine?"


A hand wrapping around a thigh and rubbing his erection did a fair bit of
convincing him as to just what he wanted.


Not that it would have taken much anyway. "Mmmm," Magnus whimpered quietly,
squirming free once they were in the bedroom. On his feet again, he stood,
pulling his shirt off quickly, trying to get as free of as much clothing as
possible in a short amount of time.


Charles's own clothing was cast to the floor as quickly as he could shuck it
off and, as Magnus stepped out of his jeans, the slimmer man practically
tackled him, sending them both tumbling back onto the bed as he captured
Magnus's lips with a rough hungry kiss.


/Just the way it should be!/ Magnus's mind noted hazily as his arms wrapped
tightly around Charles's upper-body, feeling and exploring the play of
muscles over bone and under taut skin. His tongue tried to force its way
into the other's mouth, hoping to get as much as was taken from him.


For a moment, Xavier pulled back and looked down at him, enjoying the sight
as he hauled Magnus farther onto the bed. "Tell me, Erik," he said as he
leaned down and brushed a kiss across his throat, "how often have you done
this? Have you done this at all?"


"Once," he murmured, arching up and shuddering at the warm lips touching him
so knowingly. "On top..."


That sent a rush of blood straight to Charles's groin and he sighed,
continuing to kiss Magnus's throat quite nicely, a hand stroking down his
bare side. "Then perhaps we *should* wait until morning. I'd like for you to
be able to remember what we've done, Erik..."


The other man made a complaining sound, tugging Charles closer against him.
"'nt do something," he murmured, hands stroking down Charles's side to his
muscled bottom.


A soft chuckle parted those lips and then they were at work again, kissing
down Magnus's lovely broad chest, fingers stroking to find a nipple even as
his tongue found its mate. /I'll give you pleasure, Erik... Just not quite
as much as I'd wanted. It can wait 'til you're sober again./


It was heaven, to drift and let go of his barriers in that hazy pleasure. A
hand rose to stroke over Charles's smooth head, the cords of his neck,
pressing him closer. "Ah..."


"Enjoy this, Erik," came the whispered words against his flesh, fingers
never ceasing in that tender pinch, becoming harsher and then easing again,
tongue flickering lightly 'til it met his sternum. "Mmm..."


"Ahah... tickles," Magnus chuckled softly. "Nice slow..."


More pressure was applied as Charles slipped his tongue into Magnus's navel,
purring. "I'll keep that in mind, that you're ticklish," he murmured against
that rock-hard belly, tasting it with teeth and lips. "Mnn." The muscles
beneath his mouth trembled and twitched with each touch, and Magnus made an
incoherent, but pleased, noise. His mind was only a jumble of pleasure and
wants, tugging him in so many different directions.


/Now, then.../ A heated mouth encircled the head of his cock, a hand pressed
at the base to hold it carefully in place as another moved to lightly cup
the wonderfully round soft sac beneath, crisp hair tickling against Xavier's
fingers.


"Ohh!" The sudden engulfing heat, warm and invading, was heavenly and
hellish. Too much pleasure, but still not enough, even as he tried to buck
his hips up towards it. Still, it was obvious that Charles was the one in
control, for that mouth took no more of him than Charles intended, despite
the heady movement of that body beneath him. Slow, tight suction was applied
as the tip of Charles's tongue stabbed into the little hole in the center of
that erection, a finger sliding between the muscled cheeks of Magnus's ass
and seeking out the snug ring of muscle that Charles knew he would find.


The teasing and pressing around that quivering entrance only made Magnus's
moans louder as he kept trying to get more of Charles's mouth on him. "Ah,
please!" As a finger plunged inside of the slave, heated mouth engulfed that
throbbing erection all the way to the root, and a vibrating moan sounding
around it. Too much stimulation at once, and Magnus gave in to the pleasure,
hips jerking up into that heated cavern. /God.../


Curling his finger, Charles stroked delicately inside of him, searching...
and finding, obviously, as he felt the blood-filled erection twitch
violently in his mouth. Long strokes of his mouth were followed by short
teasing ones and little licks, a hand going to stroke his own cock. /I
shouldn't have gotten you so drunk, my dear Erik.../


No reply, as his mind was too muddled to do anything but rock between the
two touches until he fell over the edge of pleasure, crying out just as
quietly as he'd been moaning as he filled his new owner's mouth with heated
seed.


Gently, Charles swallowed 'til there was nothing left before tenderly
removing his finger, his lips, and moving up in the bed to cradle Magnus
against him. "There," he whispered, brushing his lips against the other
man's. "There..."


A sleep-heavy arm slid around Charles's neck, and Magnus pressed closer to
the other man's slender body. "Danke..."


"You're very welcome," Charles whispered, turning onto his back and allowing
Magnus to snuggle in close to him. "Sleep now, Erik. You're going to feel
like hell come morning..."


The only reply was a muzzy murmur and a slackening of muscles against him --
Magnus falling asleep.


~~~~~


Pain. Throbbing, bursting pain, made worse only by a terribly invasive
humming that sounded in his ears like a swarm of gnats.


"Fucking racket," he mumbled to himself, finding his own voice only worsened
it.


"Good morning, Erik!" Charles greeted in a whisper as he seated himself upon
the edge of the bed. "How are you feeling?"


"Stop buzzing," came the moaned whisper as he tried to push his
silver-haired head under a pillow.


"I'm afraid it's not me, pumpkin," came the endearment. "I'm afraid it's all
the metal. You're going to have to wake enough to shut it out."


"Shut it out?" he repeated, words complaining as he squeezed his eyes shut,
trying to hide from the light of day. The main things he was aware of was
that the bed was nice and soft, and that his skull was going to explode
soon.


"Yes, pet," Charles said easily. "Just like you did last night, with the
candy wrappers, all right?"


"Nnn..." He was having trouble remembering that far back! "Help...?"


"Like this," was the whisper, and then... Charles showed him.


It was strange, to have a replay of the events take place in his mind, but
the sudden drop of energy that Charles 'told' him of, without words even in
his mind, made it make sense suddenly. Concentrating hard enough made it
worse, and then... it simply stopped.


"No more buzz," he murmured, relaxing a little. His head still throbbed, but
it wasn't so terrible.


"Here," Charles told him. "Drink this. You'll feel better."


Lifting his head a little numbly with the pillow still mostly atop it,
Magnus didn't even open his eyes as he held out a waiting hand.


Charles chuckled as he watched the other man begin to drink, shaking his
head. "Well, I think next time I'll watch your alcohol intake a little
better."


The glass was handed back, and Magnus dropped his head onto the mattress
again. He felt... sick, suddenly. That much was obvious as he uncoiled from
his little ball of misery to get out of the bed, eyes barely opened.


"Need help getting to the bathroom?" Charles asked him, cool fingers
stroking that face.


"Yes," he requested raggedly, barely standing.


Very carefully, taking precaution not to jar him, Xavier helped him across
the very white carpet and into the white-tiled bathroom, chrome and tiles
gleaming brightly in the sunshine flooding in from the small sky-light
above. What a bad day to suddenly find yourself living in such a very sunny
house. Magnus reeled for a moment, a hand going to cover his eyes as he
staggered toward the toilet.


"I'll get you some aspirin," Xavier whispered as he helped him in that
direction.


Magnus barely reached the toilet in time, giving a nod to Charles mere
moments before his body started to rid itself of dinner from the night
before.


The sound of it was perfectly wretched, and Xavier winced as he opened the
medicine cabinet, fetching the acetaminophen and taking out a couple before
opening a brand-new toothbrush and laying it beside the sink with the
toothpaste. It was a short matter, afterwards, to wet a washcloth with cool
water and moved to kneel beside Magnus. "Miserable, isn't it? I'm so sorry,
Erik. I should have watched your intake more carefully."


"Never drank before," he mumbled, glad to have the wash-cloth wipe at his
mouth, then fold in half to wipe his face. He pushed himself back a little
from the toilet, eyes closing again. /Not fun at all,/ he thought, a little
surprised when it didn't go anywhere; then he remembered he'd blocked
himself.


Reaching up, Xavier flushed the toilet. "If you can stand up, you can brush
your teeth and take something for your headache. I'll go and bring you some
dry toast, to settle your stomach, if you think you can keep it down."


Standing, albeit unsteady, Magnus nodded again, not yet willing to let his
block drop, no matter how much he wanted to hear Charles in his mind again.
"'m glad I can't remember..." Anything that had happened the night before,
except a few hazy moments of pleasure.


For a moment, Charles stilled, a hand reaching out to gently touch that
silvery head of hair. "Why are you glad, Erik?"


The other man shifted faintly into that touch. "'ust've acted like a fool."


Fingers brushed gently against his ear. "You were adorable," Charles assured
him. "And beautiful in your pleasure."


"Liar," he smiled hazily, letting his eyes close.


"Not even remotely," came the murmur, accompanied by a soft kiss against his
ear. "So beautiful, in fact, that the notion of taking you now, just like
this, is difficult to resist. If you weren't so ill, I'd be touching you
already. How remarkable..."


"No more drinking," he murmured, moving away to brush his teeth.


Charles smiled slightly, stepping away from him. "Perhaps only in
moderation."


"None," he refuted, as lead-heavy hands unscrewed the toothpaste cap.


"None," was the agreement. "I'll go fetch some toast."


Nodding, he started to brush his teeth, glad to be rid of that taste in his
mouth. It was then that he realized he was still undressed, and tried to
remember what had happened the night before... /Did we?/


There was no answer forthcoming, though he was not particularly sore, and
Charles was still blocked off, so...


Finishing there, and using the wall for support, he made it back into the
bedroom, eyes closing as he lifted the wall away from his mind. The buzzing
brought some more throb, but it was comforting.


/Ahhh, very good,/ came the thought from somewhere in the house. /I could
feel that. You *do* feel miserable!/


Crawling under the sheets, Magnus thought back, /Very much miserable./


/I think perhaps if you sleep a while longer, you'll feel better./ Charles
replied, smiling slightly as he readied the tray for his pet.


/You sure?/


/Take it from someone who's been hung over once or twice, himself./


/'s not fun,/ Magnus noted as he curled up under the covers.


"Only the night before," Charles said from the hallway, entering with dry
toast and Alka-Seltzer. "It's lots of fun, then."


"Can't remember," he mumbled, words muffled by bedding that was tugged
around him.


"Come on... sit up and drink this and eat some toast. It'll settle your
stomach and then you can rest for a while. I promise, you had fun. You were
adorable."


"'n't believe you, he murmured, sitting up a very little to peer blearily at
his new owner.


"I'll show you how adorable I thought you were when you feel better,"
Charles assured.


"Sit," Magnus murmured, more order than request as he reached out to grasp
the toast. He still felt... /Sick and tired./ The toast was dry, but it was
food, simple and familiar to eat. With one tired hand, he patted the space
on the bed beside him.


Carefully, Xavier did sit, watching Magnus eat. "I hope you feel better very
soon. I wanted you, but you were very drunk, and I preferred that you
remember what will happen between us... particularly since you've never done
it before."


"I've had sex before," he spoke with indignance that didn't match his very
soft voice -- which even then made his skull ache.


There wasn't a lot of change in that expression, only a slow tilt of the
corner of Charles's mouth. "You've held a man's cock inside of you?"


"... not that," Magnus murmured, taking another bite of toast.


"Remarkable, and wonderful, and I want you to remember the first time, for
there will be others," he was assured as Charles's hand lightly stroked his
flat belly.


The larger man squirmed just slightly as he finished the toast and started
to slide under the covers again. /That tickles./


The stroking stopped and Charles tucked the covers up closer. /Sleep for a
while. You'll feel better when you wake./


/What will you do?/ he asked, even as he closed his eyes and curled away
from the window.


/I'll be downstairs, checking on a few business necessities. I'll be here
when you wake./


He nearly asked how, but... the man was a mind-reader.


Nodding at it, he snugged himself back under the covers fully, enjoying the
tangle of softness and warmth around his body as he drifted off again.



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TITLE: X-rated 3/4
AUTHOR: Kat and Tzigane
RATING: NC-17 for kink ^_~;;;;;
WARNINGS: Kinkiness; light bondage and collaring, sex, a little spanking,
and a lot of sap. ^_^
SERIES: Gundam street Chronicals
ARCHIVE: List archive, of course.
SUMMERY: Part of a series of mostly entertaining smutty peices --
with background plot behind it. There will be characters there from
other fandoms, though the central pairing if Xavier/Magnus in this
Else-worlds type of setting.
DISCLAIMER: Not mine. If they were, they'd spend a lot more time
getting it on ^_~;


~~~~~~~~~~~
~X-rated 3~
~~~~~~~~~~~


Three hours later, he still wasn't awake yet and Xavier was having some
problems with impatience. He hadn't wanted anyone so much in... Well, since
ever! Henry had been wonderful, but he'd been wonderful more for his mind
than for the sex. He'd had other slaves, but...


"But this is the first one I've ever wanted to nail to the floor with my
cock," he said aloud, shaking his head. The 'sounds' of stirring came from
upstairs and, relieved, he stood and hurried quickly up the stairs, turning
and entering the bedroom quietly.


Not that those 'sounds' meant that Magnus was actually awake. It meant that
he was shifting lazily and reburying himself under the sheets. The throbbing
was mostly gone, and now he just felt tired -- not like he was going to be
sick anymore.


/Charles is a good master. I'm glad Essex didn't sell me to another store or
a friend of his.../


"Erik," Charles whispered with a smile. "Erik..."


"Hhhm?" The mussed silver-topped head lifted from the nest the bedding had
become. "Ja?"


"Are you feeling better?"


"Yes." That was decisive as he stretched languidly in the bed.


"Excellent," Charles murmured, reaching out to touch him lightly. "Feeling
up to some lunch, perhaps?"


"Yes." More stretching, before he sat up fully, sheets puddling in his lap
as he looked at his new master.


Charles resisted the urge to simply pounce upon him and take him, by some
miracle. "I've got fruit and sandwiches ready downstairs," he said with a
smile.


"Thank you," he replied, looking around the edges of the bed for his
clothing. /Where're my clothes?/


/In the washer,/ Charles replied with some relish -- he couldn't help
himself. /You can borrow some underwear if you like, or a t-shirt. At least,
'til we eat, and I get your things in the dryer./


/You did that on purpose,/ he stated, even as he swung his legs over the
edge of the bed.


/I confess that the thought of you bare-ass naked was terribly tempting, but
I'll admit to no more plotting than that,/ was the teasing thought cast back
to him.


"Evil," Magnus dismissed as he stood, very nude indeed, looking for
something to put on.


Oh, Lord, it was a shame to put anything at all on that body! "In the
closet, Erik, there is a dresser built into the left side. You'll find
underwear in the first drawer from the top, and t-shirts in the second
drawer down."


"Thank you," he replied, walking to that closet, hard muscle shifting
smoothly over bone as he pulled open the doors, then the drawer on the left
side, pulling out a pair of boxers that had to have been Henry's.


"I regret telling you they were there," Charles chuckled. "You have a very
lovely physique, Erik."


Silently hoping no fur was left, he slid them on; not a good fit, but they
covered. "I work on it," he murmured truthfully as he went to dig for a
shirt.


"What do you do?" Charles asked him, tilting his head to the side as he
stuffed his hands into his pockets, silently urging his erection to stop
throbbing so.


"Push-ups, things like that." /No equipment required. I'm naturally strong.
And you are, too./


That caused Xavier's eyebrows to raise, curiosity filling him. "And how do
you know this?"


He turned around, pulling a shirt over his head. Modesty was pointless at
best, and it didn't bother him if Charles wanted to look. "You picked me
up."


"Point taken. Shall we go down for lunch?"


Stepping away from the closet, Magnus closed the metal-handled doors behind
him with his mind. "Yes."


"Tell me, how do you feel about roast beef and smoked gouda....?"


"Sounds *very* good!"


~~~~~


Later, Charles wasn't sure how he'd talked Magnus into it, but he had. "Open
your mouth..."


"This is very strange, you know that?" he asked, then left his mouth open.
He'd taken off the t-shirt he'd been wearing, and now found himself laying
on the thick rug in the living-room, hands behind his head for a pillow,
blindfolded, while being fed grapes and little bits of chocolate that he
considered to be the best he'd ever tasted.


Fingers lightly plied another grape into his mouth, this one a tiny
champagne grape, fetched as Magnus had slept. "Ah, well, you'll become
accustomed to very strange things. For example, we'll be taking a walk every
morning..."


The fruit was very sweet and ripe, something he'd not had during his years
with Essex as an owner. It was good to do unfamiliar or long undone things
again. "Taking a morning walk is very good," magnus murmured, eyes closed
behind the blindfold. "How could that be strange, Charles?"


"Oh, because I would like to walk with a chain," Charles told him
nonchalantly.


Magnus didn't startle, or even start to sit up -- he was enjoying himself
too much to unsettle himself in any way. "How do you mean?"


Another grape found its way into his mouth, this one seedless white. "I
would like to walk with you on a chain. I think you'd be very lovely that
way."


Chewing what little he had to, that thought rather obviously was bouncing
around in his mind. /A chain...?/ an inward question as his draws drew
together beneath the blindfold. "Not plastic," he murmured.


"All right," Charles agreed. "Metal would make it much more pleasant for
you! What sort would you like? I'll have it made."


Trading a kink for a kink... /Works for me./ How bad could an early morning
walk be? "Steel."


"Most excellent!" Xavier almost purred, popping a bit of liqueur filled
chocolate into Magnus's mouth. "I already have one!"


"Mmmm." That little morsel was one Magnus let melt in his mouth, savoring
the slickness of melted chocolate as he licked it off the roof of his mouth.
/Wonderful./


/Erik.../ The thought seemed to float and dance in the air for a moment
before continuing. /Kneel up, my lovely one./


"Like this?" he asked, sitting up, then rising to his knees, still
blindfolded.


"Just like that," Charles said huskily, moving to sit on the very edge of
his chair. "Now, come forward."


/I can't see where I'm going, Charles.../ But he did, walking forward a bit
on his knees.


/Perfect,/ Charles told him tenderly. "I'm going to help you pull down your
underwear now, Erik, and then I'm going to pull you up over my knees. Do you
understand?"


He sure as hell didn't know why, but gave an unseeing nod, completely
trusting of the first owner who had ever shown him such kindnesses.


Carefully, Charles reached towards him and drew the underwear down to
Magnus's knees as he knelt there, deciding that he looked just lovely right
where they were. Shifting, he pulled the other man up and into his lap. It
might have been slightly uncomfortable, as he leaned back and resettled him
so that Magnus's face was pressed to the arm of the chair, his legs
carefully and comfortably folded so that his shins were pressed to the other
arm, his body supported by the movements of Charles's thighs. "Do you
understand what I'm about to do?" he asked solemnly. He knew Magnus had to
feel the erection throbbing beneath his own khaki pants, and that was
exciting to him as well.


One of Magnus's hands clutched at Charles's side, as he shook his head.
"No." /Explain to me, please./


Soothingly, Charles ran his palm up Magnus's spine. "Has anyone every used
their hand on you, Erik?" he asked gently.


/Are you going to hit me?/ he asked in his mind, straightforward about it,
but avoiding the first question.


"Yes," Charles answered softly, "but not to punish you or to hurt you. Only
to, perhaps, inflame your passion, if possible. I won't ever harm you, Erik.
This will be strictly for your pleasure and mine, and for correction if you
truly need it. Perhaps it would be instructional for you to see someone
else's correction. Treize is much stricter than I, and while he won't be
back for a couple of weeks, I'm sure he wouldn't find it amiss if I were to
ask for him to show you what he does to his pets when they are in need of
correction."


"All right," Magnus agreed, shifting a little and closing his eyes tighter
behind the blindfold as if to brace for pain.


Fingers danced lightly across muscle, tight skin, tracing the slightly
clenched bottom as Charles smiled. "I'm not going to hurt you," he said
solemnly, drawing his hand back and very lightly bringing it back down --
teasingly, almost.


It was embarrassing, to say the least -- to be sprawled across another man's
lap to be spanked, with no other rationalization than that he might like it,
and that his new owner certainly *did* like it. The first little smack was
just that -- a tap.


"Precisely," Charles whispered, his other hand moving to stroke lovely
silver hair as the next smack came, just a bit harder. "That's precisely
why."


"Hmmm." He shifted a little, enjoying the hand in his hair. It wasn't
bothering him, at least. "It's not really bad."


/No,/ Xavier agreed, bringing his hand down upon a cheek with some force.
/It's not bad at all./


Jumping that time, a tensing of his muscular frame, Magnus sent back a
thought that was supposed to ask 'why' but ended up an incoherent thing as
he felt his groin stir more than it had been already.


"There, there," came the quiet purr, hand still stroking his hair as the
other slowly warmed his bottom, a thigh pressing firmly against Magnus's
rising erection. "It's all right, pet."


It was warming more than the silver-haired man's bottom, as he
surreptitiously rubbed his hardness against Charles's thigh, making barely
audible sounds of pleasure as he pressed his face against the arm of the
chair again. "There, there," Charles murmured, pressing his thigh up to that
rocking motion as his hand continued to rain down, hard, reddening that
lovely skin and making the other man flinch and gasp every so often.
Stopping, he began to knead a cheek, practically purring. /How is that,
Erik?/


/Gut,/ came the drifting thought. It had been like a very intense, stinging
massage, that had left the skin there warm and a little burning; but every
smack had sent a jolt of fire clear through his groin.


/Would you like to go upstairs, now, Erik?/ The question was gentle,
probing... and very indicative of Xavier's plans for him.


There was a silence, then, /Yes./ He wanted to see what else Charles had in
store for him, what other strange pleasures there were to be had.


Gently, he was shifted up into arms that seemed to hold him as safe as iron
bound oak, and they moved towards the stairs, climbing to the upper story.
He was very shortly laid upon the bed, a hand stroking with genuine fervor
between his thighs. "There, pet. Just like that..."


The blindfold was still there, but that was all right, as he relaxed back
against the bedding. The hand just barely touching his engorged member was
fast, teasing him. "Do something, Charles," he requested, voice more raw
sounding than he'd thought it would be.


/Yes?/ he was asked. /What would you like for me to do?/


"Anything," he murmured, arms reaching out unseeingly to pull Charles
against him -- he wanted bodily contact, and he wanted it *now*.


"A moment," came the whisper in his ear as Charles quickly pulled the top
off of a tube of lubricant, smearing his fingers with it before reaching
between those thighs, searching between muscled cheeks even as he leaned
down and bit at a nipple.


"Ahh!" Crying out sharply, Magnus arched his body up, not noticing the
probing fingers until they rubbed against his tight entrance.


/I'll try not to hurt you,/ came the murmur in his mind as the tip of a
finger probed carefully inside, Charles's kisses spreading across his chest
to his nipple's mate.


It was a strange sort of stretching feeling, that tickled in a way, but made
the little muscle there spasm frantically. /I trust you./


"Good," Xavier whispered, pressing that finger deeper, seeking out the warm
spongy touch of the little nub inside of him. A second finger crept in
beside it just as that place was found and caressed carefully with a
fingertip.


That was completely new to him, and he went board straight, almost
struggling for a moment, before he let the feeling melt in, realizing what
it was. "Ah, that's..." One hand grasped Xavier's hip, tugging him closer.
"More."


Lips meshed, Xavier kissing him with a hunger he couldn't remember feeling
any time in the last decade, at least, if ever, as he began shedding his
clothing as quickly as possible with only one hand, a third finger sliding
into Magnus. "Just a moment," he whispered, regretfully withdrawing his
other hand from that luscious flesh.


That hurt, leaving an empty ache behind and no warmth to make contact with.
/Please?/


A couple of buttons popped off in Xavier's hurry, but it was worth it when
he was against Magnus again, kissing him hard, cock pressed to cock. "God,
Erik, it's all I can do not to just fuck you, to listen to you weep and cry
out..."


Strong arms slid around him, pulling his in for another kiss, deep and
probing. /You feel perfect, Charles... You feel right, to just hold, to do
more with.../ His hips rocked up, rubbing their cocks together again. Much
better than with that pansy boy he'd fucked a few times.


Carefully, so carefully, Charles untangled them, reaching for the lubricant
again. "Plant both your feet flat on the mattress, Erik," he growled,
quickly slicking the throbbing length of his erection.


Eyes closing again behind the blindfold, he did just that, legs parting with
his knees out to the sides as he braced his feet. There was another mental
reiteration of trust from Magnus, and then he made himself relax.


Arms moved, bracing the body over him, one wrapping slightly around a thigh
as a distinctly throbbing stiffness probed lightly at his bottom. "Is that
all right?" Xavier whispered, blue eyes narrowing slightly as he sought to
control himself, beginning to give pressure...


Pressure that the tight little ring was resisting violently. "Feels
strange," Magnus managed to whisper in a raw voice. /I do not think it will
fit.../


"Shhhh," Xavier whispered softly, shifting. "It will fit. It will hurt, at
first, but it will get better, then." The pressure intensified, and the head
slipped past that taut trembling muscle, clamping around his cock as he
became very, very still.


The other man cried out sharply, but held equally still at that throb of
pain -- things just weren't meant to go *backwards* up there! /Hurts,
Charles.../ The muscles spasmed hotly, trying to force the intruder out.


Kisses spread over his face, a hand shifting to lightly stroke the flagging
erection between Magnus's thighs. /Shhh... Shhh. It will be all right, Erik.
It will be all right. If it still hurts too much after a moment, I'll take
it out, and we'll find a way to stretch you until you can take me. It's all
right.../


But Magnus was determined to withstand it -- after all, if that pansy boy
had done it, why couldn't he? And Charles's voice, gentle and cajoling
inside of his mind, helped, too, soothing tension from him as the tight
muscle started to exhaust itself, lessening the pain. "Charles..."


Lips lightly caressed over his face as that lessening allowed him to slip
his slick shaft inside just a little farther, inching forward at a pace that
was distinctly painful for him. "Ah, God... Erik..."


The man beneath him let out a shaking breath, shifting up to those tender
kisses. "It's almost too much," he murmured raggedly, arms tightening around
Charles.


Hands soothed over him, lips wandering over the blindfolded eyes gently.
"Just another moment. I'm almost all in you now, and then I'll be very
still." Even Charles's voice trembled as he claimed those delicious lips
once again. It was something to concentrate on, something else to feel as he
tried to ignore that pressure forcing its way into his body. /Will it always
be so... hard?/


/Eventually, it will be easier,/ Charles told him, still spreading those
slow kisses against his face. /Though I suspect *I* will always be this
hard./


A rough chuckle left Magnus, as his breathing began to slow -- the pressure
had stopped moving, and now it just stayed within him, making the throb of
his erection all the worse. /It's so strange, Charles.../


/It will be very good soon,/ Xavier assured him, hand stroking down his body
to touch the heated metal-hard flesh between them.


Magnus let out a moan, quiet and shuddering as he hitched his hips up toward
that hand, accidentally moving the hardness within him. "Ah!"


/Would you like for me to move in you now?/ Charles teased, shifting
slightly.


His body stilled, and Magnus nodded shakily. "Go on."


Withdrawal came with infinite slowness, perhaps only halfway out of him
before Charles pushed inside again. /Is that all right?/


Letting out a shaking breath at the in-thrust, Magnus nodded very little.
Somewhere within him, it rubbed over his prostate, sending bursts of need
through him. "Aah."


"Just like that," Charles whispered, thrusting slowly, carefully, despite
the fact that he wanted to drag those strong thighs up over his shoulders
and thrust to the absolute depths of the man beneath him. "God, I want you!"


Magnus only made a strangled whimper, moving a little into that hard
impalement. There was a burning pleasure starting to build, slowly but
steadily... /It's starting to feel better.../


Shifting, Charles knelt up, sliding his thighs beneath Magnus's ass so that
he could see where they were joined, his thick cock deep inside of the other
man. "Now, I want you to push up to me. Come on, shove up..."


One leg instinctively moved to clutch around Charles's waist, as Magnus did
just that -- pushed his lower body up toward the incline. A thready moan
left his mouth, half swallowed when he tried to plead for Charles to move.
/You are so... filling, Charles... deep inside me!/


With care, the slow thrusts continued until Charles was pulling out almost
to the head and then pushing back inside again, panting for breath. "So
tight..."


That pick-up of pace was pleasing, and Magnus lifted his hips again, shaking
with adrenaline and need. It felt so strange, new but good, and he wanted to
feel what it was like when Charles wasn't so carefully holding back. "More."


With that word, he was released, and heavy thrusts began to fill every inch
of Magnus's heated clench. They were so hard that the bed shook, Charles's
hands braced against Magnus's thighs and pulling him closer with each thrust
of his own body. "Unh!"


It was perfect -- the straining of his body against that invasion was voided
completely, as his owner pounded into his willing form while he arched
against it, savoring the hot sparks that filled him every brush it made
against his prostate. The head of Magnus's cock leaked wildly, as he tried
to get the friction of Charles's body moving against it.


Instead, a hand moved, clasping him, stroking with firm callused palm...
/Come on, Erik... Come on, come on.../


/Come on what.../ Magnus's thought died as he cried out again, louder than
he'd done it before, shoving Charles's cock deeper inside of him as the
tight walls of muscles spasmed frantically.


Pleasure so hot it burned, that made his body feel like someone had taken a
match to him, washed over him in a rapturous wave so strong that he passed
from it to oblivion.


That rapid fluttering was delightful, and Charles continued to thrust for
several seconds before he shuddered, exploding deep into Magnus's bowels,
filling him with heated wetness before he fell atop the other man, just
barely supporting himself upon his elbows as he did so, gasping for breath.


Magnus had drifted for what could have been minutes, or hours, before he was
aware of what had happened, and just why his ass felt so full -- it was,
with his new owner's softening member still within his body.


"That felt wonderful," he spoke up, voice barely a whisper.


"Good," Charles whispered, fingers tracing across his face, a hand lightly
tugging at the blindfold and finally getting it off of those lovely eyes. He
leaned down and captured Magnus's lips, kissing him deeply before he pulled
back again. "That's just what I wanted you to feel."


A little shift was made, and he made a regretful noise when Charles slid out
of him. But glacial eyes kept looking into blue. /I hadn't thought I'd enjoy
that, but.... you made it very good, Charles./


"Slavery," Charles said slowly, "should be pleasant for all parties. You
should enjoy what we do. You should want to do it, even when you're being
punished. I want to make it that way for you."


The strong featured face smiled up at his new owner, a gently pleased
expression. "I am very glad that you purchased me, Charles," he murmured,
lifting his head just that fraction to kiss the other man. "I enjoy the way
you think."


"Well, we'll see how you feel about that when we begin our walks. I think we
shall discuss... Hm. Philosophy? Or perhaps literature. We shall see what
pleases us, then," Charles said, enjoying that soft lingering kiss. "I think
I'll enjoy everything about you, Erik."


Strong arms pulled the slimmer body atop him fully, at last. "I think so,
too." /Could we stay like this all day?/


/And all night, and all week, if you want,/ Charles agreed.


One hand slid down to cup Charles's ass, squeezing a little before it moved
on, pulling the bedding up over them.


"Good."


~~~~~


_______________________________________________
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TITLE: X-rated 4/4
AUTHOR: Kat and Tzigane
RATING: NC-17 for kink ^_~;;;;;
WARNINGS: Kinkiness; light bondage and collaring, sex, a little spanking,
and a lot of sap. ^_^
SERIES: Gundam street Chronicals
ARCHIVE: List archive, of course.
SUMMERY: Part of a series of mostly entertaining smutty peices --
with background plot behind it. There will be characters there from
other fandoms, though the central pairing if Xavier/Magnus in this
Else-worlds type of setting.
DISCLAIMER: Not mine. If they were, they'd spend a lot more time
getting it on ^_~;


~~~~~~~~~~~
~X-rated 4~
~~~~~~~~~~~


Two weeks later, they'd spent a great deal of time in bed with one another,
even more time indulging in foods Magnus had never eaten, and had even been
visited by a tailor.


It was time.


Carefully, Charles handed him a box, lovingly wrapped in a metallic-looking
paper with an equally shiny bow. "For you, Erik," he said simply.


It had been entirely pleasant, getting to know his new owner in *many* ways,
top to bottom, inside and out. Charles had begun to understand a few of his
quirks -- like the dutiful appreciation for all things metal -- and they
were learning about the other's power slowly.


But this morning, Charles had woken him up at five, had him get dressed in
running clothing that hugged his firm body, and now as he sat on the edge of
the bed, his new owner handed him a box that just hummed with the feel of
metal. /I wonder what this could be,/ he thought wryly as he removed the
bow, on a whim setting it atop Charles's head before he pulled open the
wrapping, meticulously opening the paper and sliding it off of the box.


Charles couldn't help but chuckle as that bow settled atop his head. He was
altogether too gleeful and pleased, as things stood, and thus he simply
smiled as Magneto pulled the chain loose from the box. "Is it acceptable?"
he asked, practically purring.


The other man felt the weight of it in his hands, the solidness of the
metal. "Very acceptable," he mused.


"Good!" Charles announced. "Then let's go for a walk, Erik!"


"I take it you have a collar hidden somewhere," Magnus mused, still studying
the chain.


"In the closet," Charles said agreeably, rising and going to search for it.
"I had the tailor make it and send it last week and unpacked it with the
other things..."


"A tailor made collar?" Magnus asked, slightly incredulous. /Why?/


/Because the last one was too tight and it was made out of a leather that
was too tough, and hurt you. I didn't like that,/ Charles replied, bringing
the new one to him. This one was so soft it might well have been silk, and
was definitely large enough to fit his neck properly.


Magnus inspected it, putting his hands atop it to feel that buttery leather
that rested in Charles's grasp before he drew his hands back. /Put it on
me,/ he requested, noting to himself that Charles truly did a good job of
spoiling him.


"Are you happy, Erik?" Xavier asked conversationally, careful as he folded
small flaps of leather against the back of Magnus's neck before pulling the
second part, the part with the buckle, over them to fasten.


It was nice to not have the buckle touching his skin -- that had been the
part on his last collar that had rasped his neck raw at times. "Very happy,
Charles, in a way that I never have been before."


A kiss brushed lightly over his lips, Charles taking them and smiling
against them, nipping the lower one. "Good. Me, too. Now, then... shall we
go for a walk?"


"Is anyone up yet?" Magnus asked as he held the chain out to Charles to
attach it.


"Mmmm, probably," Charles murmured. "Trowa and Heero are always up at the
break of dawn, but I doubt they'll be out and about yet. Touga... I'm
guessing, after all the flashing lights and the mess last night, he's not
back yet, and Mirialdo and his boy probably aren't awake." A wild storm had
downed a couple of trees further down the street, but it had been the sirens
that had gotten everyone's attention. Word moved fast on Gundam Street, and
despite the fact that Mirialdo's boy had only been around for a handful of
days, he was already gaining a reputation as the best source of fact and
gossip on the street. He'd called Treize's boy, and Treize had called him.
"And as for Treize... it'll depend whether he's written all night or not.
Dorothy and Relena won't be up before noon, though."


They'd spent the storm and power-outage usefully -- with Magnus powering,
all on his own, a free-standing flashlight in the corner of the room while
they'd made love. He'd blown the bulb before they'd finished, but it had
been an enjoyable challenge. "I haven't met any of the other owners other
than Dorothy and Relena." Those two had still unsettled him, even though it
had only been that first day at the store.


"Well, two of them have only just arrived," Charles said with a smile, "and
I think our Mr. Barton has been quite busy at work. Perhaps we'll meet some
of them this morning."


"Perhaps," Magnus agree, stretching a little. "We might as well leave,
then."


"If you're ready," Charles murmured. "What shall we discuss, as we take our
morning promenade?"


/Promenade on a leash,/ Magnus mused as he stood, waiting for Charles to
walk. He jangled the chain a little with his mind, liking the noise. "Why
not about this street -- how it came to be..."


"It's as good a topic as any, I should think," Charles agreed as he headed
for the door and the stairs, Magnus coming with him. "Since the
reinstatement of slavery in singular areas -- WILLING slavery, it's supposed
to be, though that is sometimes gotten around, I know -- there has been a
great surge of, shall we say, INTEREST... particular in the forms of slavery
prominent in areas such as this one. Agreed?"


The chain between his neck and Charles's hand swung lazily. "I suppose so,
yes -- but why a gated community?"


"Honestly?" Xavier paused as they walked out of the house and onto the
sidewalk. "We had some problems at first. People wanting to come in, look at
the pets, take pictures. It was a novelty... and *then*, Treize bought
Mirialdo, and you wouldn't believe the mess that was. Dear Prince
Peacecraft, the paparazzi were everywhere, it was simply impossible... And
so, after some thought, we enclosed ourselves. It seemed the best thing to
do. Our neighbors aren't nosy, or rude, but keeping the papers out was worth
the effort and expense."


"Mmm. Understood," Magnus mused, looking down the dawn-lit street as they
crossed across it, to walk along the side opposite. "But why pets, and not
lovers?"


"Perhaps only because of the thrill of power, of ownership. Most of the pets
here are willingly so, you know. They enjoy being held by the power of
someone else, the 'inability' to refuse, their own powerlessness.... not
that it's true. If anything, the lot of you hold more power than most
realize."


Magnus didn't fall among that category. /I'm fully aware of what 'power' I
hold,/ he thought at his owner. "How many on this street know of your
talent, Charles?"


"Treize, Mirialdo... I don't interact as much with the younger of the crowd,
and then there are Lady Une and Mistress Hilde, but... ah, those women are
quite different than anyone else you will ever meet."


"From the way you have talked about them, I will have to accept that what
you say is true," Magnus uttered, giving the chain in Charles's hand a
playful tug. "What do they think it is? Parlor tricks?"


"I'm not really sure," Charles said lightly. "Treize is doubtlessly
fascinated. He writes science fiction novels, you know. As for Mirialdo, our
dear Prince has the composure granted that position and if he thought
anything at all untoward, one would never know."


"Then this gated community serves a double purpose for you, ja?" /Hiding in
plain sight./


"In some ways," Charles agreed. "I suppose I hadn't truly considered it that
way, Erik."


"I'm surprised," Magnus mused. /I suppose I'm paranoid about it -- but even
here, you're lucky there have been no adverse reactions to it./


/People here are different than in other places,/ was the reply. /I don't
think anyone would revile either of us for it./


"I won't believe it until I've seen it," he murmured, mood falling a little.
"I still do not wish to see what happens when more of us begin to surface."


"You're impatient," Charles told him plainly, "and pessimistic. It's
understandable, but I don't think it will be as horrible as you believe."


"Then tell me how horrible it *is*, Charles," Magnus prodded.


"Horrible enough, I suppose," placated the older man. "After all, there's
what happened to you, and to Henry." He paused. "For the most part, though,
the talented people I've met have all been rather well off, emotionally,
financially. I'm not sure why that is, only that it's so."


"So it's either the slums or riches," Magnus snorted. "If you can hide it,
then you can become well to do -- if you can't, just save yourself trouble
and shoot yourself in the head."


That was definitely causing a bit of a raise in Charles's eyebrows. "Well,
you could say anything was that way, couldn't you? Not just being talented.
Say, for example, that someone was unable to walk. If that was so, then
would the same premise hold true, to you? I wouldn't think so. You're
likening our talents to a handicap, and it isn't."


"This is the first time in my life that it *hasn't* been a handicap," Magnus
uttered, crossing his arms over his chest firmly. "You are lucky because you
at least managed to conceal it from others. And yours is useful to you,
being able to get into other's minds."


"True," Xavier agreed. "I try not to do it that way, but people tend to
shout without even realizing it."


/I'm aware,/ he thought, mind a bit darkened in light of the conversation.
"Can you just read people's minds, or can you write to them as well?"


"Are you accusing me of making people do things they wouldn't ordinarily
do?" Charles asked lightly.


"I'm asking if you can," Magnus shot back. "Everyone experiments from time
to time, no matter how ethical you claim to be."


"Claim to be?...." Frowning, Xavier came to a stop before the Italianate,
turning and looked at Magnus. "Yes, Erik. I can. Is that what you wanted to
hear?"


Those eyes narrowed a little. "Not really." /How do I know you haven't
mucked about in my mind?/ But deeper, beneath that was an subconscious
voicing of 'I trust you', no matter how harshly it took thought.


"Quite simply because I wouldn't do that, Erik. Then, there would be no
challenge, no interest, no *enjoyment*, for either of us!"


Magnus really had no reply for that, no more sharp words to snap back, so...
he growled, muttering gutturally to himself in a tongue that Charles
couldn't understand.


And then Magnus's dark gaze fell upon a boy, peeking above the fence they
stood near.


"Eek!" came the little squeaked response as that black head ducked back
behind the white pickets. Still, it very very slowly raaa~iiised and peered
over again, as if fascinated.


"You're frightening the natives, Erik," Charles said softly.


There was a very distinct, wordless 'fuck you' in Magnus's gaze as he looked
at Charles for a moment before walking as far as his chain would let him,
before growling, "Boo."


The boy behind the fence practically shrieked and went running for the front
door, tiny running shorts and tank-top leaving little to the imagination.


"Well, I'd say you've just scared Treize's very new and very lovely boy half
out of his skin," was the amused judgment. "Happier?"


"He's a pansy," Magnus snorted distinctly, though he did seem... pleased.


Charles could only roll his eyes. "I'll never understand that pansy business
of yours," he teased, nudging Magnus along the street even as a curtain
parted and the boy peered out at them again.


He'd started to say something, before the face was jerked out of the window.


Then the front door opened and a very handsome man, who looked like he'd
stayed awake the entire night before, wearing a not-so-crisp white shirt and
jeans, came trotting down the stairs.


"Charles! How good to see you again!~"


"Good morning, Treize," Xavier greeted with a smile, particularly upon
seeing that the boy was steadily approaching just behind his master. "I see
you've been up all night writing again."


"Oh, yes," Treize replied absently. "Finished a horrid tale about a war --
it came to me in my sleep while I was away and I simply *had* to finish it.
How are you doing?"


"Most marvelously," Charles stated, "having found the loveliest companion at
the last sale. Erik Magnus Lehnsherr, this is Treize Khushrenada. Treize,
meet Erik."


"A pleasure to meet you," Treize uttered, and offered not a hand-shake but a
slight bow towards Magnus, who returned the gesture.


"A pleasure to meet you, too."


Xavier chuckled slightly as he nodded at Treize. "And the most excellent
young man hiding behind you?"


Treize tugged Wufei out from behind him, "Is Chang Wufei, my sweet little
pet that I purchased from Sally and Noin. He's much better for me than
Mirialdo was."  That brought a filtered flush across those cheeks as Wufei
looked at the man on the chain again and stepped closer to Treize.


"Ahhhh," Charles murmured. "I think I see. Good morning, Chang Wufei.
Speaking of, how *is* Mirialdo?"


"Well. He bought a hyper-active boy named Duo Maxwell, and... He's
something," Treize smirked. "Something *very* special." The sapphire sharp
gaze drifted over Magnus, standing there, toying absently -- and without
hands -- with his chain. "I assume Erik is, also?"


"How are you doing that?" Wufei asked timidly from where he had managed to
half-hide himself beneath Treize's arm.


"It's a 'trick'," Magnus replied in a dark voice.


For a moment, Wufei looked disappointed; but since Treize was so close, he
ventured closer to the fence. "It doesn't *look* like a trick. If it was a
trick, *I* could do it. It looks like something special..."


Charles remained quiet, watching the two of them, and occasionally glancing
at Treize; even his thoughts reflected nothing, or nothing he cared to
share.


"Oh, it *is* something special," Magnus uttered, pulling a little with his
mind at the metal hinges of the fence gate. That caused Wufei to jump,
rather amusingly, and tuck himself behind Treize again to peer out at the
other men. Magnus peered after Wufei, half-glaring.


"As you can see, Erik is playful," Charles said with a slight roll of his
eyes. "Today, anyway."


Treize was still studying Magnus, eyes a little wide. "Amazing!! Charles,
you lucked out when you found him."


"Oh, yes! You can't imagine, I bought him from Essex, you know, the one who
owns that line of stores... the idiot only asked for eight thousand, a
ridiculous price for such a marvelous companion, I think, but it only means
I can spoil him more for the price, quite a nice thought, I assure you,"
Charles answered cheerfully enough, laughing as Wufei peered out from behind
Treize again.


"*Boo*," Magnus snapped out, half-lunging at Wufei.


Squeaking, Wufei hid entirely behind Treize, arms wrapped about the other
man's waist. "Wah!"


"Erik!"


"It's all right, Wufei," Treize soothed over Magnus's laughter.


"It's not all right! What if he wants to bite me or something!?" Wufei
wailed.


Charles almost groaned. "He won't bite, Wufei."


Treize chuckled softly, "You sure?"


"Wahh!!"


"Wufei..." Treize's tone was softly chiding as he patted Wufei's head.
"*Really*."


Magnus had stepped back again, playing with the chain as he flashed his
teeth at the boy, who was practically dancing in his want to go back inside
again. "I DO hope this is making you feel better," Charles said sourly.


/Much better,/ Magnus thought back, turning the smile to the boy's owner.


Treize chuckled, "Reminiscent of Mirialdo, your pet, Charles. I bet he gives
you some trouble."


"Very little, up until this morning," he was told contemplatively. "I think
the chain makes him feel feisty. Not a bad thing, that."


Nodding to it, Treize was still petting a hand through Wufei's hair as he
uttered, "Some people are simply born to be that way."


By then, Wufei had stopped dancing and was almost purring, so pleased was
he, and it must have shown, for Charles smiled and nodded. "I'm delighted.
And you seem happy enough, as well."


The writer smiled slowly at his neighbor. "Oh, yes. Wufei is the perfect pet
for me -- he has tastes complimentary to mine." Which was Treize's eloquent
way of saying 'I like to beat his ass, he likes having it done to him.'


"Most excellent!" By then, the smile had turned to a laugh. "I'll have to
see Mirialdo soon and discover how he likes his new state of being. Did you
hear all of the ruckus last night?"


"Yes -- apparently Touga's sister swan-dove from the roof and impaled
herself on the fence beside Duo's play-set," Treize uttered, shaking his
head. "She should have been committed *years* ago. Prenatally, if possible."


Wufei shuddered against him, saying solemnly, "I think I'll make Duo come
over here to play from now on out."


Treize laughed softly. "Wufei, there's nothing to be frightened of."


Still jangling his chain a little, Magnus contemplated the boy. /He's
absolutely jumpy./


Peering up at Treize doubtfully, Wufei shook his head. "I don't want to play
where some stupid onna tossed herself on a *fence*," he said.


"He's scared to," Magnus guessed rightly, making an amused sound.


Charles watched as the little pet practically puffed up, marching to the
fence and glaring over it. "So what if I am?"


To Magnus, it was like watching a frightened kitten, with its fur standing
on end. He stalked as near as the chain would let him, before uttering,
"Nothing really -- it simply means that you're frightened by something as
weak as a *dead* woman. Not even a living one!"


Charles laughed slightly as Wufei puffed up farther, frowning. "Ahhh, I
think, perhaps, it's time that we continued our walk, before our darling
creatures do one another harm..."


Treize only chuckled slightly. "Wufei... go back in the house -- make some
hot chocolate, all right? I'll be in shortly."


Lower lip still poking out, Wufei turned around and ran back to the house,
quickly hiding himself in the house... but still peeking out through the
windows.


Just in case.


Magnus was smirking, watching that little face in the window.


"Wufei is skittish," Treize uttered to Charles.


"I couldn't tell," Charles said dryly. "And Erik, that *didn't* help."


The man on the other end of the chain only smi~iled back at his owner. /It
helped *me*./


"Oh, I think you'll have to take him to Mistress Une sometime," Treize
smiled. "I have to take Wufei there, too, sometime."


"No one could possibly visit her as often as Mirialdo has!" Charles tilted
his head to the side thoughtfully. "Still, I have to wonder what goes on in
there. Is Miri still so terrified of her, then?"


The smile on Treize's face was knowing as he looked at Magnus, then back to
Charles. "Oh, very much so -- you mean you've never taken a pet to her? You
really should. It's *quite* the experience."


"I can imagine, with the traumatized expression Miri gets every time her
name is mentioned. You'll have to tell me about it, soon."


"Oh, I will," Treize smirked. "He's still got marks from her, you know?"


*Now* the conversation had Magnus's attention, and he didn't like what he
was hearing. Charles's brows lifted steadily. "And you intend to send *that*
one?"


"When he gets unruly enough, yes," Treize uttered. "It will leave a...
lasting lesson."


Blue eyes turned and contemplated the now quiet Magnus. "For yours, perhaps.
For mine... all of a week. Maybe." Oh, and Magnus was *staying* quiet.


"I don't know about that," Treize mused, leaning casually against the fence.
"I could easily see what they'd do with him -- he's *much* bigger than
they're used to seeing of the pets. He'd have more stamina than someone like
Wufei."


The little smirk marking Charles's lips said it all. "He's definitely got
plenty of stamina." A very faint blush touched Magnus's pale face, but the
stoical smile said more -- verification of Charles's words.


"Mmm. I can *imagine*."


"For now, I think it's time we finished our walk. I'm feeling in need of
some of that stamina, just now," Charles said blithely.


"Subtle, Charles," Treize winked, turning to go into the house. "Have a good
day!"


"Get some sleep, Treize," came the fairly cheerful reply. "You look like you
need it."


"But I finished the book!" he called back, before closing the door behind
him.


/How very strange.../ Magnus mused to himself.


"What's so strange about it?" Charles asked, nudging him back towards home.


"Treize," Magnus replied. "Typical artist. He'd probably forget to eat if
given half a chance."


"That's why he has a pet, love. To remind him." Xavier brought a finger up
and lightly touched the tip of Magnus's nose. "Not that Wufei will remember
anything today except you."


The other man playfully bit at that finger, chuckling. "Oh? And why is
*that*?"


"Because he probably thinks that if you escape this chain, you'll search him
out and bite him!" Charles laughed.


"Poor stupid thing," Magnus muttered, shaking his head -- home was close-by
now, thankfully. "He'll probably think that for the next five years."


"Tell me, Erik. Do you -- will you, rather -- think so poorly of *all* the
pets? Or is it only that you dislike those weaker than you?" came the
serious question.


That one had to be thought about... "Only some of them."


"Why only some?"


He shrugged. "It's more a matter of personality."


"I really would like for you to have a few friends. It's good for you, you
know," Charles murmured as they moved back into the house.


"I'm a solitary person," Magnus mused as he once more stepped into the
familiar surroundings. "And they're all very much younger than me. Than
*you*, too!"


"Ahh, perhaps," Charles agreed, reaching to unhook t he chain and collar.
"But that doesn't mean I can't enjoy their company, or find them cute. Being
older, it might be fun to patronize them a bit, tease them... that sort of
thing."


The teasing part made perfect sense to Magnus, and he nodded, stretching a
little bit. "Being walked like that wasn't very bad -- it's normal for this
street, isn't it?"


"Almost everything is normal. In a day or so, we'll go by that gold house
and find Relena in the stocks out front. Treize will probably punish Wufei
so that you and I can watch, if you'd find that pleasant. God only knows
what Miri's gotten into..."


"He's a porn artist, isn't he?" Magnus asked as he moved to go into the
living room. "He's probably photographing his pet."


Charles's brows shot up. "You know, I do suppose you're right!"


Magnus was sitting cross-legged in front of Charles's video-tape case.
"Well, it would suit this street."


"Do you like it here, Erik?"


He looked up from whatever it was he was doing, tilting his head a little to
one side. "Yes, I do like it here -- why do you ask?"


"I don't know," Charles said softly, seating himself in a chair. "I just
wanted to be sure of it, is all. You're being very quiet... even in your
thoughts."


"I'm concentrating," he excused, going back to looking at those tapes. He'd
been 'reading' the magnetic coding pattern, and was trying to mimic what
he'd figured out onto a copy of 'Gone With the Wind'. Which meant erasing
it, but that was little loss. /I really do enjoy being with you, Charles./


"Then come here and kiss me."


"Kiss that movie good-bye, though," Magnus uttered, just under his breath,
as he moved in front of Charles's chair -- not standing, but not kneeling.
Half crouched so that he was on eye-level with the other man before he
pressed his lips against Charles's.


Lips met lips slowly, tender sweet dance of flesh against flesh as Charles's
tongue delved between his lips, tasting him, teeth nipping at his lower lip
in a sudden sharp bite just after it withdrew.


"Hmn." Magnus let out that murmuring breath into Charles's mouth before he
pressed his own advantage, sliding his tongue teasingly against the other
man's bottom lip before diving into the warm mouth beyond.


"Just like that..." came Charles's vague agreement, teasing at him, a sigh
spilling loose. "Nnnn, yes..."


One hand lifted to stroke over the back of Charles's sensitive scalp as
Magnus stood a little more, greater force behind that searching, dragging
kiss. The heated play of mouth to mouth was so easy to fall prey to.
/Erik.../ came the whisper of thought. /Unh, Erik.../


The other man pulled back just enough to let air pass between them better.
/Yes?/


It was more a half-thought than a direction, a want directed at him as much
by the nebulous consideration on Xavier's mind and the thumb lightly
stroking his lower lip. "Please.."


"Please what?" came the husky question as Magnus nipped that thumb just
lightly. "What do you want, Charles?"


A wicked smile crossed Xavier's face as he whispered, "You know what I want,
Erik."


"You sure of that Charles?" was the very soft tease as Magnus leaned in for
another kiss.


"Very sure," the answering growl rumbled. "Supremely certain."


/I haven't done *this*, Charles,/ Magnus conveyed. He'd given his owner's
cock a few licks, but not what had just been mentally shown to him.


"Just try it. It's not so bad... I promise," Charles cajoled.


"Sit back and let me, then," he murmured, one hand tickling at the back of
Charles's neck while the other began to unbutton his shirt.


With a sigh, Charles leaned back and waited. He could feel his blood
pounding in his veins, his cock trapped inside of his pants. "Yes..."


"You should see yourself," Magnus smiled, the words faintly tender as he
bent his head to kiss at the neck he was steadily exposing.


Charles chuckled a little breathlessly, dropping his head back against the
back of the chair. "Mmmm, not half as nice as being able to see you."


/I'd debate that, but I'm busy,/ Magnus thought to Charles, savoring the
taste of the warm, slightly salt-and-soap tasting skin beneath his mouth.
/You should let me do this more often./


A slight groan parted the older man's lips, a hand coming up to work its
fingers into the thick silver thatch atop Magnus's head. "I swear, I won't
argue if you want to!"


Nuzzling his way over to a nipple, Magnus paused to gust warm breaths atop
it. "Really, Charles?"


"Not at all!" was the ragged whisper.


"I'll remember that," he teased softly, before placing his lips over his
owner's left nipple, kissing there for a moment before starting to suckle on
the hardened bit of flesh.


"Ungh!" The noise that escaped from Charles with that delicious hard suckle
was a delightful one, full of ecstatic pleasure. "Yes!"


Steely cold eyes drifted shut, as Magnus let himself suck and suck on it,
before he let go, breathing against the dampened skin.


"Oh, God, I've died and gone to heaven!" Xavier groaned.


"Dying would be very inconvenient," Magnus smiled as he moved a hand to his
mouth; he wet his thumb and forefinger, before pinching them to Charles's
other nipple. Then he lowered his head to lap at the firm abdomen presented
to him by the open shirt.


To say that Charles was enjoying himself would have been an understatement;
his hips rocked up as if begging for touch, his eyes partially closed. "My
lovely Erik," he said softly, moaning. "Yes..."


There was pleasure to be had just in knowing that he was giving such
pleasure to Charles -- is that what his owner felt when he took control?
Second-hand pleasure that was just as heady as first hand. He kissed the
flat belly, then undid the buttons of Charles's jeans with his mind, kissing
his way down as the cloth parted for him.


He didn't get very far before he encountered the cloth encased tip of
Charles's erection.


A shuddering breath escaped Xavier's lips as he rocked up slightly, an open
invitation for Magnus to remove that soft cotton and give him head. /Come
on, Erik... Please.../


/I'll take my time, thank you,/ Magnus shot back, as he let those buttons
give continuous pressure pulling down-wards. "Lift your hips,' he murmured.
With a remarkable obedience, Xavier did so, sighing as Magnus's hands went
to work. The denim fell away, to Charles's knees, leaving only those briefs,
to touch and run his hands over, enjoying the feel.


"Tormentor," Xavier managed to utter, shuddering.


"Taught by a master," Magnus muttered, tugging that material down slowly,
revealing  the throbbing wet head of Charles's erection.


Charles closed his eyes, the next words almost sighed. "Suck me off, Erik...
come on..."


"When I want to," Magnus rumbled, kissed a patch of skin just beside that
head as his hands pulled that underwear down more.


Groaning, Xavier accused him again, playfully, "Tease."


"Quite right," Magnus rumbled easily as he tugged those pants down further,
until Charles's erection was completely freed. A single, soft, chuckle, and
he leaned in to lick the head.


The whine that rewarded him with was utterly and completely delicious, held
in thrall by that single motion. "Ah, God..."


A moment spent to test the taste, before he took another lick, shifting
closer. /Not quite./


/But very close. Very very very very.../ "UNH!"


Magnus's hands grasped Charles's hips, holding them still as he licked the
underside of that pulsing member. /Heh./


"Erik...!" the rough whisper rasped. "I swear, I'll beat you when we're
done...!"


/Good,/ came the teasing thought as he licked there again, thumbs rubbing
over the bones of Charles's pelvis. He paused for a moment, letting his eyes
close as he breathed against that hardened member, before leaning in to take
the head into his mouth, trying to keep his teeth from touching it.


His name came in a whisper again, hands delving deep into his hair to tug
him close, almost choking him for a moment as Charles shoved his hips up to
that warm enveloping grasp. A shudder shook through the object of his
ministrations, one of pure pleasure. /Perfection..../ came the
understatement.


Protesting the shove that had nearly gagged him, Magnus showed his strength
by pinning his owner's hip *firmly* to the chair, before drawing back to
take things at his own, much slower, speed.


There was nothing wrong with that slower speed; nothing at all, aside from
the fact that it left Xavier's eyes crossed and his knees weak and the rest
of him entirely too tightly strung to bother doing anything more than
enjoying it immensely.


Eyes closed as he moved his head up and down along the thick shaft, Magnus
stopped occasionally to suckle at the head, applying firm suction as he
twined his tongue against it.


/Erik.../ The mere thought of what his adored pet was doing was enough to
set him off, and that murmured caress of his name in his brain was the only
warning he received before Xavier shuddered, creaming in his mouth.


Magnus learned, rather shortly, that he was not a man to swallow very much
at all -- he just couldn't do it *fast* enough -- so most of it just
back-washed out as Magnus drew back, chuckling a little as he licked his
lips.


It took a few minutes for Charles's brain to begin functioning again.
Indeed, it seemed to have gone on a temporary leave of absence for a bit
before he finally dragged it back again. "That... was... MARVELOUS..."


Magnus was still sitting as his feet, looking up at him with un-hidden
pleasure. /I'm pleased to hear it./


Fingers stroked lightly through that silvery mane. "Let's go upstairs,
Erik..." he said softly.


/I'm on top,/ came the teasing thought even as Magnus stood.


/We'll just see about that!/ Grabbing his hand, Charles hurried up the
stairs.


"Oh, yes, we *will*!" Magnus chuckled aloud, even as he beat his owner to
the top of the stairs.


Yes, five years of living on Gundam Street looked *very* tolerable.



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