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Title: Riders on the Storm (Sequel to Tempting Fate)
Pairing: Xavier/Magneto
Fandom: Do I really have to tell you?
        
Disclaimer: All Characters in this story are the property of Marvel 
INC. I am making no money off of this piece, nor did I intend to.  I 
promise to wash them and put them back when I'm done. (I really
wish 
I could wash them… yummmm!)


Yep, people I'm still here. Send feedback. I need it, I crave it.
And 
remember, suggestions are welcome!!!
Love apocl158



Riders On the Storm


        Nervous.
        It was the one word that summed up how Charles felt as he and 
Erik made their way back to the mansion. It vibrated off of him in 
waves, so strong he was sure Erik could feel it. He hated being self-
conscious, but he couldn't help scanning their surroundings every
few 
minutes, searching for a familiar psy pattern.
        "You look like you are about to jump out your skin,
Charles," 
Erik said as he watched Xavier scan again.
        //Sorry.//
        Erik just nodded, shivering slightly in the cold air. When he 
made the decision to go for a swim to burn off energy, he hadn't 
counted on really feeling the cold.
        He hadn't counted on a lot of things.
        He certainly hadn't counted on making love to Charles in a 
jacuzzi, though it was an enlightening experience. He could still 
hear Charles gasping, feel his skin, taste him…
        "Be careful with those rampant erotic thoughts, Erik," 
Charles said with a sidelong glance. "I might have to jump you
after 
all." The last came out with a chattering of teeth as the wind
picked 
up, driving the cold through the thick robe he was wearing.
        "I wonder how we will explain to your students how we both 
got sick at the same time," Erik mused as he opened the door to
the 
kitchen.
        Charles remained silent.
        He watched as the other man turned on a pot, steam rising 
from it almost instantly. Tea bags, sugar, honey, all were set on the 
small kitchen table in a silence that was palpable. He knew Charles, 
knew his small coping mechanisms, and making tea was a warning flag 
like few the man possessed.
        "Charles?"
        He didn't answer. As if in a daze he watched as Xavier moved 
to the refrigerator, taking out bread and meat. He arranged it 
carefully, too carefully. It was more than Erik could take.
        "God damn it, answer me when I'm speaking to you!"
        "Yes."
        Erik sighed. He hated when Charles would cut himself off. It 
made him feel deserted and more alone than at any other time. Though 
the kitchen was warm, he felt chilled.
        //My apologies, Erik,// Charles sent, stopping for the first 
time since they left the pool house. //I don't know how to deal
with 
this.//
        "With what?"
        It was Xaviers turn to explode, "With this! With us! I was 
prepared to watch you die as a friend, as a confidant. I am not 
prepared to let you slip away as a lover."
        That said, Charles turned and headed to the steaming 
teapot. "I don't know what to do."
        "Neither do I."
        That comment caught Charles off guard. "What? Actually 
admitting for once that you don't have all the answers?" The
remark 
was acerbic, meant to wound, to goad, and it almost succeeded. 
        "Why are you trying to argue with me, Charles?" Erik watched 
the play of emotions that surfaced when he asked that question. Pain, 
doubt, fear, all made a quick journey across Xavier's features.
        //I'm sorry.//
        "If you say that one more time-"
        //Now who is arguing with whom, Erik?// Charles sent, though 
the words were empty. He filled a mug with water, picked up the try, 
and headed for his study, not waiting to see if Erik followed.
        `Im not letting you do this, Charles,' Erik though to
himself 
as he followed, `Not now'.
        
        Charles watched the play of the logs burning in the 
fireplace. He remembered a lecture from chemistry, about how energy 
was released in the form of heat and light. More importantly, he 
learned that no source of energy was eternal.
        `How long?' he thought, sipping the tea, letting it scald
his 
tongue, a smaller pain to replace the larger one seeping into his 
chest. '` How long before this one runs out?'
        Sighing, he thought back to his conversation with Moira. She 
had warned him, in her own round about way. She had known something 
like this would happen, but he refused to listen. Now he was stuck in 
a position he was unable to escape. Torn between his children and his 
lover and knowing that he would not be able to keep both.
        Letting himself drift, he slipped back to the moment he 
melded his mind to Erik's. The heat between them was hotter, the 
passion brighter, than it had been in Haifa. And he knew it would be 
that much more difficult when it ended.  His thoughts on Haifa 
sparked other memories, of Gabrielle, a mistake he could never 
forgive himself for making. Sleeping with a patient in the states 
would have cost him his license.  If word had traveled, he would have 
been removed from med-school when he returned to the states. And for 
what? For someone who couldn't fill the place Erik had left,
though 
she tried. He'd left her when he couldn't stand working at
the 
hospital anymore, not caring, and not looking back. Then Amelia, whom 
he had lost as surely as he had anyone else. He was dead to her, that 
much she had made clear in their last meeting. Moira, who remained a 
friend even though their past still felt fresh. Lilandra, who lived 
too far away to be a real comfort.
        David.
        He sighed. A long time ago he had aquatinted himself with the 
fact that people would leave him. His father had, his mother had, and 
he assumed that everyone else would. It was one of the reasons that 
the X-men meant so much to him. Despite his faults, despite 
disagreements, they had stayed, become the family he thought he would 
never have. And he refused to betray them, no matter what he felt.
        "I know what you're thinking."
        The soft words were spoken behind him, and he listened as 
Erik moved over the carpeted floor to settle next to him on a couch.
        "I thought I was the telepath."
        He saw Erik shake his head. "You are, though you wish at 
times that you weren't.  You told me once that one of the
problems 
with being a telepath was that you could never use the excuse that 
you were unaware of someone else's feelings."
        Charles remembered it clearly, but he lied anyway, " I had 
forgotten."
        Erik watched as the muscles bunched in Xavier's cheek, 
leaving a corded strand down his neck. Inner struggles were something 
that he was familiar with, and he knew one was being waged in the man 
next to him. " Perhaps you should stop thinking about what others 
want and concentrate on what you want. You might find you enjoy
it."
        "Easier said than done."
        Erik decided to take a different approach, "Do they love
you?"
        The question caught Charles off guard. "What?"
        "Your students, your X-men, do they love you?"
        Charles thought for a  moment. " I suppose they do, in their 
own ways."
        That careful answer was enough to raise Erik's anger 
again. "You suppose? You are a telepath, Charles. You could know
what 
I'm going to say before I say it if you wanted to. Are you trying
to 
tell me that after taking care of them, teaching them, being a father 
to them, that you only assume that your students love you."
        `Damned if the man wont let me wiggle my way out of this 
conversation.' " Yes, they love me." Charles answered,
the words 
hushed.
        "Charles, look at me."
        For a moment he considered staring at the fireplace, but 
there was something in Erik's voice that made him turn. He saw
anger 
in the ice blue eyes, passion, and strangely, understanding.
        "Then why do you think they wont understand how you feel 
about me?"
        "Because I know them, Erik," Charles answered without 
hesitation. "I know their fears, their weaknesses, their little 
idiosyncrasies that they think no one else knows. I know how they 
feel about you. I know that Jean is more conservative than she would 
ever give anyone a hint of knowing. I know that Bobby was afraid to 
come out for years because of the late night drinking parties he had 
gone to, the gay jokes he had to suffer through. I know how they see 
me, and I don't think they would understand this, understand
us." 
Charles turned back to the fire. "Look at us, Erik. How long has
it 
been? Twenty years of  fighting head to head? Ten of those using 
others to fight in our stead? For ten years they have fought what you 
stand for, your dream of mutant dominance. Some soldiers fight half 
as long and are scarred for life."
        "As you were?"
        Charles turned to Erik again, exhaustion evident in his 
posture. " I cant hurt them Erik," he finally announced,
"I wont hurt 
them. Not anymore than I already have."
        Erik let what he had heard sink in, the words changing the 
pictures that he already had stored in his mind. Silence settled on 
them, broken only by the sharp crackling of the fireplace. "Your 
dream has cost you much more than mine has, Charles. Do you know 
that?"
        " You have lost two children to your dream, Erik. I have lost 
none to anything but my own arrogance and coldness."
        "That is where you are wrong, Charles," Erik answered. "
You 
have lost countless children in battle, and they *are* your children. 
You lost your son because you dream stood in way. In all the years 
that you have fought, trained, planned, have you ever truly been 
happy?"
        Charles let himself consider what he was being told. 
Strangely enough, it was one of the many things he asked himself. He 
had been happy when Storm was returned to them, when Scott and Jean 
were married. But his happiness had been for them, not for himself. 
He had been happy in his brief time with Lilandra, but his duties and 
hers had separated them.
        "No."
        Erik sighed, placing one hand of Charles shoulder, turning 
him so he could face him. "Then think on this, Charles. Do you
think 
your children are unaware of our emotions? You may walk quietly, but 
I know you. You broadcast your emotions when they are too strong to 
hold inside, the same as I do. I don't believe they would
begrudge 
you some happiness, even if it stems from someone who was once an 
enemy."
        Erik let his hand caress Xavier's cheek, willing himself to 
remain calm. Charles rarely opened to anyone, and the raw emotions, 
the pain, the self recrimination, was enough to tug at his heart.  
With a final, gentle finger across Xavier's lips, he rose to
leave, 
but stopped before closing the door behind him.
        " Don't let your own fears stand in your way, Charles. You 
are better than that. I know you. Your fear has sometimes been 
greater than your faith, but you walked."
        
        
        
        




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Title: Riders on the Storm 2/?
Fandom: Take a guess
Pairing: Xavier/Magneto
Diclaimer: You know the drill, I don't own them, because if I did 
they would be wearing nothing but leather and a tan ( and not that 
much leather, either.)


Thanks for supporting my fanfic guys, I reallyyyyyyyy appreciate it.=D


Love, apocl158




Riders on the Storm 2/?




        Charles sat after he heard the door close behind Erik, 
leaving him to ponder those final words. He took a long drink of his 
tea, the water scalding his throat before settling in a hot ball in 
his stomach. He often wondered how he had escaped ulcers, with too 
many worries to count and coping mechanisms that were more hurtful 
than helpful.
        `Be happy.'
        Those were his mother's last words before she slipped away so 
many years ago. He felt her pass, more in his heart than in the faint 
pulse that ceased to beat beneath her wrist. For years he had tried, 
followed his dream of becoming a doctor, of attending Oxford. It was 
there that he met Moira, had returned to the states to prepare for 
their wedding.
        And was drafted into a war he knew little about.
         It had been her face that kept him alive while he fought 
alongside his stepbrother, the thought of having a family, a real 
family, instead of an abusive stepfather and a mother too afraid to 
stand up for herself. In the end, she had crushed him when she broke 
their engagement, deciding that they weren't really suited.
        He had found happiness, he mused. He had found it for only a 
brief time, but the memory of it had been enough to keep him going. 
And now he had a chance to find that happiness again.
        Once his fear had been as great as his faith, and still he 
walked the path. Now, he didn't know if he could weather it.


        Jean felt it, a small pain that attached itself to the back 
of her neck, then disappeared as quickly as it had come. That had 
been happening a lot lately, sharp pricks that were gone before she 
could really register them, but she knew where they came from. Her 
mentor could be as silent as a ghost mentally when he chose, but 
sometimes he was noisy, noisy enough to give her a small glimpse into 
what was troubling him.
        What she saw in those brief moments was confusing, but there 
was no mistaking the overall message. The professor was in pain, 
mental pain, but still pain.
        "Scott? What time is it?"
        She watched her husband check his watch, ignoring the dirty 
looks that were tossed her way. Any time after one and Scott would 
make sure all but the most recalcitrant of them were heading back to 
the mansion. By her internal clock, she guessed the time to be around 
two.
        "You not gon' make us go home yet, are you, mon ami?" Gambit 
asked. Rogue had dosed sometime ago on his shoulder, and he was 
enjoying the feel of her weight against him.
        Scott, however, was not moved, " I would like to go over some 
different approaches to the danger room programs we've been running 
lately," He said, half the sentence stifled by a yawn, " And I would 
like to get it done before three pm."
        As the group began to file out, a hand on her arm drew her 
back into the bar, " You felt it too, didn' you?" Remy asked.
        Jean nodded her head in agreement. "Something is definitely 
wrong with the professor."


        Erik heard the cars pull up, but didn't move from his 
position on the bed. He hated this, this waiting, hoping for 
something he knew he should have left alone. He had come to this 
house to make amends for what he had done, to find some peace before 
he died. Instead he found himself hurting the person who mattered the 
most to him, and unable to prevent it.
        "Why are we doing this to ourselves, Charles?"
        The question was heavy in the room, the walls absorbing the 
words until nothing was left of what was said. He knew Xavier was 
hurting, knew he was tearing himself apart with his guilt, his 
desire. And he would have given what was left of his soul to take 
that pain away.
        `Life is what we make of it, Erik,' Charles words, spoken so 
long ago, came back to him. `The only hell that exists is the one we 
make for ourselves.'
        A pity he hadn't taken his own advice.
        "I wont hurt you, Charles," he vowed in the silence, letting 
the emptiness of the room fill with his words, "And I refuse to let 
you hurt yourself."


        "Come in Jean."
        Jean Grey lowered her hand, unsurprized that he had answered 
before she could knock. Opening the door enough to slip inside, she 
watched the professor's silhouette against the fireplace. His posture 
was loose, almost as if he had nearly fallen asleep. She took in the 
two mugs sitting on the tray, the plate of food that was untouched, 
and stored it with the other information she was gathering about the 
professor.
        "Are you all right, Charles?"
        Xavier almost laughed at the carefulness of the question. For 
a moment he considered her reaction if he told her the truth, that he 
was in love with their worst enemy, that he had always loved him, and 
had every intention of pursuing a relationship with him while Erik 
remained at the mansion. The image of her stunned, hand clutching her 
heart, was almost enough to send hysterical laughter bubbling through 
him.
        Almost.
        "I am about as fine as I ever am, Jean," he answered, his 
eyes refusing to leave the fireplace. If he looked at her, saw the 
concern he was feeling reflected in her eyes, he would break. He knew 
that with a certainty that astounded him.
        "Don't lie to a telepath Charles, it doesn't do you any good."
        The amusement he heard in Jean's voice pushed him further 
into himself. Savagely, he pulled everything he was feeling inward, 
desperate to escape her prying.
        Jean gasped at the suddenness with which the room went cold. 
The emotions that had permeated the study, that had first alerted her 
to the fact that something was wrong, were gone.
        "Sir, I know something is wrong. Please, tell me what it is. 
Maybe I can help-"
        //Jean?//
        //yes sir?//
        Charles waited a moment before answering, trying to think of 
a way to soften what he was about to say, but failed. //Please, if 
you want to help, give me some time alone.//
        Jean was stunned. Never had the professor so bluntly shut her 
out of his life. Often they talked about their problems, both 
understanding the trials of living the life of telepath better than 
few others. Now he refused to do so, and she could do nothing but go 
along with his wishes.
        "You know where I am sir, if you need anything."
        "Thank you."


        It was three o'clock when a soft knock woke Charles from the 
state of pretending to sleep that he had fallen into. //Come in,// he 
sent, pulling on a robe and settling himself into the hover chair.
        Robert Drake was standing in his pajamas, looking all the 
world like a child lost in clothes five sizes too big for him. 
Charles idly wondered how he kept the pants from falling around his 
ankles. "Bobby, is there a problem."
        "Yeah, something like that. I just wanted to talk."
        Charles motioned to an easy chair, pulling a throw from 
behind it to hand to Bobby. "What is it?"
        Charles could feel the tension that washed from Bobby, 
stronger than anything the man had given off since coming out to his 
family three months ago. The temperature in the room dropped 
slightly, and he knew that the man in front of him was waging an 
internal battle for control.
        //Its all right,// Xavier sent, letting his own calm transfer 
itself to Bobby, //If you need to discuss something, just let it 
out.// `You should follow your own advice, sometimes,' he thought 
before turning his attention back to Bobby.
        "Sir, do I disappoint you?"
        Charles understood. This was the conversation that he had 
been waiting for Bobby to initiate for months. "No, Bobby, you have 
never disappointed me."
        Bobby sat for a moment, silent, then began talking so fast 
the Charles could barely keep up with him.
        "… but I've always been the class clown…"
        "… and Hank just sits and stares at me like…"
        "… and finding out I was gay and…"
        //Bobby, please calm down.//
        Robert Drake sat staring at his hands, breathing hard to 
catch his breath. He felt like he had just run a marathon, bot 
mentally and physically.
        //I take it this is about your coming out.//
        "Yes sir."
        `Tell him,' he said to himself as he watched Bobby trying not 
to cry, `He needs to know you really understand.'
        "Sir?" Bobby asked, his voice almost too low to be heard, " 
What's wrong with me?"
        Charles swallowed hard, remembering when he was fourteen and 
he had said those words to his mother, the only person who had known 
for years that he was gay, and had accepted him. Asking her had been 
the hardest thing he had done in his life to that point, and he 
didn't doubt that it was the same for Bobby.
        "Nothing is wrong with you, Robert," he answered, his 
emotions struggling for freedom. " It is simply how you are. Look at 
me," he said, and waited until Bobby raised his eyes from his lap. " 
You are not flawed, evil, or anything else that you might have heard. 
Your sexual preference is just as normal as being heterosexual, and I 
don't fault you for it in any way."
        Bobby said nothing.
        " What brought this about, Bobby?" Charles asked, feeling the 
discomfort that was washing from him, " Did the others say something 
to you?"
        "No," he answered, idly letting a trail of ice extend from 
his fingertips. " I'm sorry I woke you."
        Charles listened as Bobby approached the door, knowing he 
would only get one chance to truly help him.
        "I know what you are going through, Bobby," he finally said 
as the door was opened.
        "Sure you do, professor."
        `No turning back now,' he told himself, before continuing. " 
When I was fourteen I had my first crush. It wasn't on a dental 
assistant or the school nurse either. His name was Peter Matthews."
        Charles heard the door click shut, and felt Bobby's tension 
draining as he sat across from him. " Seriously?"
        Charles laughed at the hopeful tone to Bobby's 
voice. "Seriously. He was a boy in my English class. We called him 
the Adonis. Wheat colored hair, these really dark green eyes, almost 
emerald. He could write poetry that you wouldn't believe."
        Bobby was stunned. He had never imagined that someone in the 
mansion could really understand what he was going through. "What 
happened?"
        Charles sighed, the memories darkening as he continued. "I 
wrote him a letter, pouring my adolescent heart out to him. I 
remember waiting with baited breath for him behind the bleachers, 
wondering what he would do when he found out that I wasn't some girl."
        "And?"
        For a moment Charles smiled, " And he gave me my first French 
kiss. Cain found us, and told my stepfather." Unconsciously, he 
rubbed the left side of his face, " I had a black eye for two weeks 
after that. Peter's father pulled him out of school. As far as I 
know, they were the only people to know, for a time. Cain used to 
hold it over my head, threatening to tell the whole school if I 
didn't do things for him."
        "How did you get out of it?"
        " It was the first time I ever mind wiped someone. I erased 
about a week from his memory. I'm lucky I didn't kill him."
        Bobby watched Xavier for a moment, " But what about Moira and 
Lilandra?"
        Charles could see the images dancing around Bobby's head, of 
fake relationships and lies. " It was nothing like that, Bobby," he 
said gently, " I am attracted to women as well, and my relationships 
with them have been very real. I just told you this so you know that 
I do understand you. I'm not patronizing you, I don't think that 
something's wrong with you."
        Bobby nodded his head, rising to leave. Charles listened to 
the door close, the sound almost mumbling Bobby's last words.
        "Thanks for trusting me."


        
        




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Title: Riders on the Storm 3
fandom: you know
Pairing: Xavier/Magneto


disclaimer: same as the others, though I think a naked Magneto with a 
big bow on him that says, "Open when ready" sounds wonderful. Dont 
you?


for you guys who want more. 
love apocl158
        



        Erik enjoyed New England in the fall, the trees bright bursts 
of color from the palest yellow to deep crimson. The air was cold, 
not cold enough to be unbearable, but brisk, refreshing.
        He wondered if it would be the last fall he would ever seen
        He had wandered out onto the grounds after two days of he and 
Charles pretending that the other didn't exist. There were the 
usual `good mornings' spoken at breakfast, but other than that, 
silence. He knew Charles asked about him, because Hank made a point 
to letting him know when Charles asked about any progress. But to 
him, not a word for two days.
        " Care to come out now, Logan?"
        He watched the shorter Canadian man drop soundlessly from a 
tree, landing less than a foot away from him. He'd known he was 
there, felt the disturbance in the electrostatic perimeter he had 
made.
        "Wasn't spyin on ya, old man," he said, standing, " Was tryin 
to catch a nap in the tree."
        "Sorry to disturb you," Erik answered, "I'll leave you alone."
        "You serious about Chuck?"
        The question caught him off guard, and it took a moment for 
him to regain his composure, " What do you mean?"
        Logan laughed, pulling a chewed cigar out of his shirt 
pocket, " Ye know I got a real good sense of smell, and yours was all 
over him when he talked to us last night, not to mention this 
morning, despite all that chlorine."
        "I don't see how that is any of your business."
        "Oh, it is," Logan countered, coming to stand chest to chest 
with Erik, "I don't care what the two of ya do together. Hell, its 
about time he got some. But if you hurt him, you deal with me. And Im 
talkin for the whole team."


        "He said what!"
        Erik watched as Charles did his best to pace, which was to 
maneuver the hover chair in a tight circle in front of him.
        "Charles, please. I'm getting dizzy."
        //You even think about joking right now and I'll make your 
heart forget to beat.//
        As a threat it wasn't effective. "We both know you wouldn't, 
Charles. Violence has never been your forte."
        In answer he felt a slight hitch, as if his heart had, for 
the barest of moments, stopped beating.
        " Don't tell me what I will and will not do, Erik," he said, 
his voice deathly serious, "I am not the person you knew in Haifa."
        Far from being angry, Erik was actually pleased. Charles had 
come out of the protective shell he had wrapped himself in. "That, my 
love, is something that I am constantly learning."
        Charles wrapped his arms around himself, thinking about what 
was happening. He had wanted to tell them himself, to be able to 
gauge their reactions. " He said they knew about us? Those were his 
words?"
        Erik shook his head. "He said *he* knew what we were doing."
        Charles paused to consider that. Logan wasn't one for 
spreading information unless it was vitally important, and even then 
he could be tight-lipped. `Thank god for small miracles.'
        "Charles, calm down. Your hearts racing. I can feel the iron 
in your blood moving too fast."
        Xavier sighed, conceding the point. Besides, he was getting 
dizzy. "This is what I get for doing the Princeton Rub in a jacuzzi."
        Erik balked at that. Charles rarely used slang terms, 
especially if they were derogatory. 
        //Not derogatory, Erik. Merely descriptive.//
        Erik said nothing, merely moved to sit in one of the wing 
back chairs in the study. "If it bothers you so much, not knowing if 
they know, why don't you take a glimpse into their minds, see what 
you find?"
        "Because I don't do that."
        "You seem to do it to me every chance you can get."
        // You like me to.//
        "Tell them, Charles." Erik said, "Both of us are getting 
tired of this mental sparring.  You can't  deal with it, and I don't 
have the time to." Erik let those words sink in. "I'm dying, Charles. 
Remember? Me passing out at your doorstep? I know the treatments you 
gave me helped, but they can't work forever."
        "They wont have to."


        When neither Charles nor Erik showed up for dinner that 
night, curiosity was rampant. Almost everyone had a different theory. 
The professor was angry, he was tired, they were off somewhere 
arguing. The only two people who didn't join in on the conversation 
were Bobby and Henry. Bobby, after his conversation with the 
professor the night before, had begun to piece things together. How 
the professor seemed excited whenever Magneto resurfaced, the tension 
that always existed between the two. The most compelling was the fact 
that no matter how many times they had fought in the past, Magneto 
had never really hurt one of them. Bruised them, pulled the 
adamantium out of, but never killed. Those facts were pulling 
together to form a very interesting picture in his head on what they 
were doing at that moment, and the image was definitely not for 
children.
        Hank on the other hand, was listening to the gossip that was 
being spread in front of his eyes. He wondered on how they could be 
so glib when speaking of their mentor, their teacher. He too, had 
come to independent conclusions on what the professor and Magneto 
were doing at that moment, and it followed the same track as Bobby. 
Sighing, he picked up his plate and headed back to the Medlab. He 
could accept them, he was almost sure Bobby could. But the rest of 
the team? That was something that he had yet to figure out. 
        As for Charles and Erik, they were sitting on the edge of the 
lake, having escaped from the house undetected earlier with a picnic 
basket and swim trunks.
        "Isn't it a bit late in the season for this kind of 
activity?" Erik asked as he dropped his clothes onto a low tree 
branch, eyeing the placid water with misgivings.
        Charles laughed, positioning his hover chair over the 
water, " In a few moments you'll start to see steam rising from it. 
Trust me."
        Erik waited, and was slightly surprised when steam did begin 
to rise from the water, though it remained as placid as ever.  "How?"
        In answer, Charles slid from the hover chair, falling into 
the water with a loud splash. He resurfaced smiling. //The lake is 
over a hot spring that is inactive for the early part of the year. In 
autumn, though, it heats to water to a rather nice temperature. Come 
in.//
        Charles watched Erik approach the lake, letting the water lap 
over his feet, looking like a child on his first visit to the beach. 
When he realized that the water was indeed warm, he dived, 
disappearing into the blackness.
        Charles let himself drift, looking at the stars, wondering 
what would happen when their secret was out. And it would come out, 
that he had decided when Erik reminded him of the short amount of 
time they had left. Judging from their characters, he surmised he 
would have the most trouble with Warren, Scott, Jean, and Jubilee. He 
knew Hank had already guessed at their emotions, with what he 
witnessed in the infirmary days ago. Bobby would understand without 
doubt. Both Remy and Logan had had their share of male lovers, and 
the cajun was never one to judge. 
        It would be his earliest students who would find it difficult 
to accept, not to mention Jubilee, who still felt anger towards Erik 
for what he did to Logan. If he could deal with them, he knew they 
would be in the clear.
        Charles smiled when he felt a hand wrap around his waist, and 
took a deep breath before he was pulled under. // I was waiting for 
you to do that, you know,// he sent, picking out Erik's face in the 
water.
//You never could resist playing games.//
        The hands relaxed for a moment, and Charles took advantage of 
it. Pulling himself out of Erik's grasp he swam away, angling down, 
knowing that Erik could follow him.
        Erik laughed to himself, and followed the blue magnetic 
signature that Charles was giving off. A small bubble, keeping a 
reserve of air for him surrounded he head. Though his health had been 
regained, he knew he wasn't truly up to anything as strenuous as 
underwater sports.
        After a moment, the signature stopped, then abruptly moved 
upward. Erik followed it, and found himself on dry land. "Charles?" 
the question echoed off walls covered in an iridescent blue material, 
outlining the walls of what appeared to be a cave.
        "I used to hide here as a boy."
        Erik turned and found Xavier sitting on a ledge, legs 
dangling into the water. The room was steamy, warmer than outside, 
and Erik guessed that they were close to the hot spring.
        "Where are we?"
        "On the opposite bank, under the rocks there. I don't know 
what formed this cavern, though it does have a skylight." Erik 
followed Charles's gaze, seeing the small sliver of sky, a hint of 
pale moon teasing the edge of his vision. " My mother showed it to me 
when I was ten years old. She said it was where my father proposed to 
her."
        Erik watched as Charles slid into the water, keeping his back 
against the ledge. "I'm telling them about us tomorrow. I think it 
would go easier if you weren't there when they find out."
        "I wont let you do it alone, you know that."
        Charles turned, letting his eyes settle on Erik's, 
"Will you for once in your life listen to me? I know them, and they 
will need time to digest what I tell them before they can face you. 
The probably wont be able to look me in the eye for the rest of the 
week."
        Erik nodded in assent, "So where am I supposed to hide while 
you're letting them adjust to the current situation?" The question 
was half-mocking, half-serious.
        Charles sighed, letting his head rest against the warm 
stone. "Your room would be as good a place as any. Though I wouldn't 
open it for anyone if I were you."
        Erik laughed at that, "As if a door could hold one of your 
students."
        Erik reached down and began to massage the back of Xavier's 
neck, kneading the ball of tension he felt there. He smiled when 
Charles sighed, his head falling forward to allow him easier access.
        "So why did you bring me here?" Erik asked, his fingers never 
ceasing.
        He was surprised when Charles lifted a hand, grabbing his and 
pulled him into the water. //I wanted to give you something. I bought 
it a long time ago, I simply never had the courage to say anything 
about it, until now.//
        Erik watched as Charles felt along the ledge behind them, 
then pulled out a small velvet box. Wordlessly, he handed it to Erik. 
He took it, feeling the vibrations of the metal inside.
        It was simple, as rings went, a circlet of gold with the 
delicate engraving of an ivy leaf on it. That didn't catch his 
attention, though. It was the four words engraved inside that melted 
him.
        `Our love is eternal.'


        "Spoiling me again?"
        Erik caught the towel that was thrown in his direction, using 
it to dry the water clinging to his hair. The ring glinted on his 
little finger, and he couldn't resist passing his fingers over it.
        " I wouldn't want you to accuse me of starving you, would I?"
        Erik was impressed. For someone who rarely was given to split 
second decisions, Charles had outdone himself. The basket was filled 
with food, salad, meats, cheeses, and something in a plastic 
container that he couldn't see, but smelled heavenly. Not to mention 
two thick blankets, for which he was grateful. The chill air, which 
seemed bracing when one was warm, was freezing against wet skin.
        " How isolated are we out here, Charles?" Erik asked, setting 
up a perimeter to warn him of anyone's approach.
        Charles pulled out flatware before answering. " This is 
probably the most isolated spot on the grounds in autumn. Most of my 
students dislike this spot, its too far away from the house for them 
to easily get warm again. But, it has definite make-out potential."
        Erik raised one silver eyebrow, "Was this planned?"
        Charles smiled, pulling off his wet swim trunks and slinging 
them on a low branch. "If I say yes, will it change how you feel 
about me?"
        Erik didn't answer, he simply watched, taking in the sight of 
Charles naked, bathed in moonlight and completely oblivious to the 
outside world. He mentally compared the man he was to the boy he had 
been. Over the years Charles had filled out from the rangy youth he 
had known. Well muscled, `In all areas,' he thought with a grin. He 
wondered idly how Charles kept his legs in such good condition when 
they were never used.
        " Mild electric shocks, just enough to get the muscles to 
contract," Charles answered the unasked question, wrapping one of the 
blankets around himself. "If you think you're getting in here with 
those wet things on, think again."
        The mischievous smile on Charles's face made Erik wonder what 
was in store for him as he slid the wet material down his hips, 
placing them on the same branch as Xavier's. "Is this a ploy to get 
me naked?" he asked, settling into the blanket.
        "You sound like I would have to use one." Charles countered, 
reaching for an apple slice, "Now shut up and let me spoil you."
        Erik didn't protest. For ten minutes nothing was said as the 
two fed each other, which in itself was highly erotic. The slightest 
touch of a tongue, a moan when something especially good was tasted, 
was slowly driving them both insane.
        "I cant remember the last time I did something like this," 
Erik mused as the two held each other, staring out over the moon 
drenched lake. "In fact, I don't think I ever have, and I certainly 
wouldn't have thought to do something like this."
        "Call it a hidden romantic streak," Charles said as Erik 
settled into his arms. The air outside had grown steadily colder, but 
inside the blanket they were both warm enough, even though Charles 
had to pull it over his head. He gasped when Erik shifted closer to 
him between his spread legs, rubbing against him.
        Erik smiled when he felt Charles's hands clench in the 
blanket, and did it again, his smile broadening when he felt Charles 
rock his hips in answer. The heat of his erection was pushed against 
his back.
        "Do you like that?" he asked in seeming innocence, looking 
back to find Xavier's eyes closed.
        // You know I do,// Charles answered, thrusting against Erik. 
His legs were dead weight, however, and he couldn't thrust as hard as 
he wanted. Erik was far enough away from him that he couldn't apply 
the pressure he wanted, and the other man knew it. In retaliation he 
poked Erik ribs, making him bark with laughter.
        In moments Erik found himself lost in a tangle of bedding and 
limbs as he was engaged in an all out tickle war. He was glad most of 
the utensils had found their way back into the basket, because the 
large blanket they were on became a war zone. The fact that they were 
outdoors, that anyone could walk up on them, added to the excitement.
        Erik couldn't recall the last time he had had that much fun. 
The fact that, when it was over, he found himself pinned beneath a 
naked Charles, his hands held beside his head, made it even more fun.
        "You won," he said, pretending to fight against the grip 
Charles had on him. "What do you plan to do with the spoils?"
        Charles smiled, the expression one of absolute 
mischief. "I'll think of something."


        If both of them hadn't been so involved with each other, they 
might have noticed the two watchers settled in the trees above them. 
        Logan smiled at Remy, a smile that plainly said, "I won, you 
owe me fifty bucks."
        `Merde,' Remy though, hastily repainting the mental image of 
Charles Xavier that he had in his head. After dinner, he and Logan 
had volunteered to search for their missing mentor and his friend. He 
said they were probably off somewhere arguing about the moral value 
of spam, or something just as abstract that only Beast could 
understand. Logan insisted that they were screwing like rabbits.
        Logan won.
        Remy watched as he was motioned to, and Logan took off into 
the night, leaving the two men alone. He, on the other hand, had no 
compulsions against watching. Rogue had more than once called him a 
voyeur, and she had been right.
        `You definitely flexible, homme,' he thought watching 
Xavier, ` Remy didn' tink you be dis adventurous though.'


        Erik gasped when he felt a string of warm kisses moving down 
his stomach. Beneath the blanket it was pitch black, leaving them 
with only touch. He cried out when wet warmth engulfed him.
        "God, Charles!"
        Charles smiled in his head, imaging the look on Erik's 
face.// Be quiet, or would you like them to find us like this?//
        //I thought you liked to be compared to the supreme being.//
        Erik jumped when he felt teeth lightly nick his inner 
thigh, //A bit testy, aren't we?// he sent, smiling.
        //If you want me to stop, all you have to do is say the 
word.//
        Erik didn't say anything, though he heard the mental chuckle. 
Then he was falling into sensation.
        //God, you still know how to drive me crazy,// Erik couldn't 
resist the raising of his hips.
        //As if I would forget.//
        If there had been any doubt in Erik's mind that Xavier had 
somehow lost his touch over the years, he was eradicated in the 
minutes that followed. Nothing stayed the same for more than a few 
moments. Light and fast, deep and slow, and a mixture of both had him 
panting for release, his hands tangled in the blanket beneath them.
        "Charles, please,"
        Xavier released Erik's organ, teasingly licking the head 
before nuzzling his face into the mans stomach, smiling when he felt 
the muscles jump. "Please what?"  He moved up Erik's body, 
deliberately letting himself slide against Erik, taking the long moan 
that followed into his mouth.
        // You're not leaving me like this!//
        "Now who is testy?" Charles asked, sliding back down Erik.
        This time there was no teasing, and the effect was instant. 
Erik launched his hips into the suction, cursing in German as his 
hands found Xavier's head. Then Charles did something he hadn't 
expected.
        He hummed.
        The vibration was enough to send Erik over the edge into 
oblivion, crying Xavier's name into the night.
        
        
        When Erik recalled where he was, Charles was settled on his 
chest, and the moon had moved a considerable distance in the sky. He 
found it amazing that Charles's students hadn't sent out a search 
party.
        "I told them we were fine when they asked."
        Erik looked down, taking in Charles, his eyes closed, face 
relaxed, lying on his chest. If he thought they could get away with 
it, he would insist that they remain there for the rest of the night.
        "It seems the group I have to tell tomorrow has decreased by 
half."
        That comment caught Erik's attention. "What?"
        Charles leaned up, looking into Erik's eyes. "Apparently, we 
were being watched. Remy wishes us the best of luck."
        Erik said nothing for a moment, "You said by half."
        He didn't see it, but he felt Charles smile into his 
chest. "I told you to be quiet. Betsy heard that roar you let out, 
and she is not adverse to our relationship. When I contacted my 
students to let them know I was planning on speaking to them tomorrow 
after lunch, Hank told me not to bother, that he already knew. He did 
have a rather colorful threat he wanted me to pass along to you, 
though."
        "Really? And what was that?"
        He jumped when Charles nipped his nipple, "You'll have to 
find out tomorrow when you get your checkup. Bobby says he hopes we 
are happy, and not to get too loud when we move to the house. And 
Logan is just Logan."
        //Meaning?//
        //Meaning that he told me to tell you that he'll cut your 
balls off and feed them to you if you hurt me.//
        Erik didn't have any doubt that the small man would try his 
hardest to do so, and would probably succeed. //Is that all?//
        Charles smirked again, his eyes gleaming with amusement, "No. 
While we were busy Remy decided to steal our pants and swim trunks, 
as a way of saying `welcome to the family.'"
        "What?" Erik nearly shouted, sitting up and looking to the 
branch where he had placed his clothes. His shirt was there, but his 
towel, swim trunks, and pants were missing. "How are we going to get 
back to the house?"
        "We?" Charles asked, slipping his shirt on and climbing into 
the hover chair. " You can't see my lower half. The only one who has 
a problem is you."
        "Smart ass," Erik grumbled as he yanked his shirt on, tying 
the thinner blanket into a skirt at his waist.
        "You like my ass, though, Erik," Charles said, laughing when 
a small rock sailed over his shoulder.



        "So, what's up?" Rogue asked as she came into the study.
        She was the last to enter, and Charles breathed a mental sigh 
of relief. When he first thought of telling his students, he was 
filled with dread, now all he wanted to do was let them know so he 
didn't have to sneak around his own house.
        Quickly, he sent a mental scan into the room. All those who 
knew were ready to leap to his defense, with the exception of Hank, 
who was giving Erik a checkup in the Medlab. For that he was 
grateful. Those who didn't know had some strange concepts on what the 
meeting was about.
        Charles had stayed up most of the night trying to think of a 
way to tell his students that he and Erik were a couple, and he had 
decided to simply tell them straight out rather than hedge the 
subject.
        "As you all know, Erik and I knew each other before we ever 
became who we are," Charles began, sending a calming influence into 
the room. Almost immediately the tension in the room decreased. `So 
far so good,' he thought before continuing. "What you don't know is 
the nature of that relationship." He took a deep breath before 
continuing.    "We were lovers." He fought himself to keep from 
cringing.
        The bolt of lightening he had expected to strike him down 
never came. Instead he felt a rush of emotions, sympathy the foremost 
among them, a twisted understanding of his behavior following closely 
on that. And enough apprehension pouring off Jean to warrant a look 
in her direction. He was not surprised when he failed to meet his 
eyes.
        Jubilee on the other hand was staring at him as if he had 
suddenly become her own age, and all his faults were understandable. 
A quick mental peek at he thoughts confirmed his observation.
        "That relationship ended all those years ago. Now, for lack 
of a better term, it is blooming. I have kept many things from you 
over the years, and though I would not court your distaste or anger, 
I feel you deserve to know what is happening between us."
        The room was silent for long moments, then, " Charles, are 
you asking our permission to date Erik?"
        The picture those words evoked sent a peal of laughter 
through the room , and Charles could have kissed Orroro. "For lack of 
a better term. Yes."
        He looked around the room, relieved when he found support and 
understanding, releasing a mental breath he hadn't even known he was 
holding. Slowly, the room emptied, and he found himself face to face 
with Scott and Jean.
        `Out of the frying pan and into the fire.'
        "Sir? Are you sure about this?"
        Scott was straining, trying to keep his emotions under 
control, but most of that anger was stemming from his wife. He mostly 
felt concern. Charles Xavier had for many years been a father to him, 
and the thought of him being hurt was one he was unprepared to 
imagine.
        "As sure as I have been of anything."
        Scott, looked down at his folded arms, then nodded his head 
in assent before leaving the man alone with his wife. Making a 
beeline for he Danger Room, Charles knew. At least he wasn't going 
after Erik himself.
        "Charles?"
        "Jean, don't…"
        But she didn't listen, " How can you do this?"
        Charles sighed, "Because it is what I want. It is what makes 
me happy, and I intend to continue."
        "At the price of the team?"
        "No, at the price of my soul."
        She was not prepared for that remark. "What do you mean?"
        Charles smiled, "Loving the devil has its own price Jean, and 
I have paid it for the better part of twenty years. Now he has a 
chance to pay me. I'm not asking you to accept it, merely to 
understand."
        Jean conceded that point, but moved on, " How can you still 
love him, after all you've done? After all he's done?"
        "How can we still love you, after all you've done? It is the 
same reason, Jean. Because after all is said and done, you are a good 
person, and so is he. We have the same dream Jean, just different 
ways of going about it. Most of our allies have been our bitterest 
enemies at one time or another, but we still call them friend." 
Charles extended his hand, and was relieved when she took it, 
kneeling down in front of him. " No matter what happens between Erik 
and I, it will not change how I feel about you, or anyone else on the 
team.  I will never abandon you, or turn against you, not if it means 
my life. You have your happiness, Jean. Give me the chance to find 
mine."
        Jean stared at him, not fighting the tears that were silent 
trekking down her face. With his words she caught a glimpse into how 
lonely Charles was, how dark his life was. And she saw that Erik, 
somehow, despite all that had happened, was a light in that darkness. 
She smiled through her tears, hugging Xavier back when he pulled her 
into his embrace.


        Hank McCoy, at that moment, was running a scan on Erik, and 
frowning at the results. The cancer was moving slowly, but that 
wasn't the problem.
        "Again," he said, still staring at the screen.
        Erik did as told, forming a high level EMP in a corner of the 
room not occupied by machinery.
        "Stop."
        Hank snatched his glasses off his face, rubbing the bridge of 
his nose. What he was seeing defied everything he knew about anatomy, 
but then again, the anatomy of mutants was a realm of `anything goes.'
        The tumor, which before the EMP had been a small speck, was 
now almost tripled in size.
        "I believe I've found the cause of the cancer, Magnus," he 
said as Erik got off the examination table. "Somehow, your powers are 
creating it. We'll have to put you in a reduction chamber to test the 
level of radiation that your powers exude."
        Erik nodded his head, " In other words, my own powers are 
killing me."
        "Only if you let them. From the tests I've run the tumor only 
becomes active when your powers are in use. Refrain from using them, 
and you should have no further trouble."
        "Are we done?"
        Hank smiled, the expression almost feral. "No, we have one 
more thing to discuss," Before Erik could react he found himself 
slammed into a wall, " I have no problem with you and Charles 
sleeping together. I do however have a problem with him being hurt, 
so I will only give this warning once. If I so much as feel him 
unhappy and link the cause to you, you'll learn what a guinea pig in 
a pharmaceutical company feels like. Am I clear on this subject?"
        "Crystal."
        Erik inhaled when he felt the pressure on his neck 
release. "Wonderful!" Hank said, turning back to his computer 
screen. "Please remember, don't use your powers unless necessary."
        Erik walked into the hallway, buttoning his shirt and 
smiling. If he wasn't careful, he was going to start to like Hank.





        
        
        




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Ttile:Riders on the Storm 4/?
Fandom: given
Pairing: Xavier/Magneto
Disclaimer: No, they arent mine, though I have the sneaking suspicion 
that they might want to be. They belong to Marvel INC.


Sorry it took so long to get out.




        Charles sat staring at his desk, looking over the papers that 
he had to sort through before the next conference he was to attend, 
and wishing it would just go away.
        Two days. Two days of something akin to absolute bliss. This 
morning he had awakened to Erik pressed against his back, and arm 
thrown loosely around his waist, and sworn he had somehow died and 
gone to his own personal version of heaven.
        His students, despite his fears, seemed to accept his lover, 
though the danger room exercise they had asked him to sit in on was, 
intense, for a lack of other words. Cyclops had been brutal, Erik 
amused, and both bruised before he finally called a halt to the 
program. Despite that incident, everything was going perfect.
        With the exception of, since that last night by the lake, he 
and Erik hadn't made love.
        They shared a room, much to the amusement of his students, 
some of which were growing used to seeing Erik come and go throughout 
the mansion as he pleased. Erik had insisted on sleeping in the 
guestroom after Charles had spread the news to his students. He next 
night he moved his belongings to Xavier's . They had talked until the 
early morning hours, about their past, about their future, about 
their fears, and slept until late afternoon. The mental nudging he 
received from everyone when they finally emerged was comical.
        Two days of bliss, and he couldn't help wondering when it was 
going to end.
        "Stop worrying."
        Charles looked up at those words, seeing Scott standing in 
the doorway to his study, casually leaning against the jamb. "I 
wasn't worrying," Charles said, motioning for his first student to 
sit.
        Scott smiled, " Yes, you were, sir. When you worry you get a 
line in-between your eyebrows."
        Charles relented, "Perhaps I was, a little. Everything seems 
to perfect, too right. I'm waiting for something to go terribly 
wrong."
        Scott nodded his head. He knew that feeling, had lived with 
it for most of his life. He knew from experience that nothing stayed 
perfect for long. "Maybe the powers that be decided you should have 
something for yourself, after giving so much to others." He smiled 
then, a light, playful expression that made him look less like the 
serious leader and more like the twenty four year old he 
was, "Besides, we thought you had killed each other when you didn't 
come down for a whole day. Bobby was ready to send up a search party."
        Charles blushed, a considerable sight, since hid entire head 
turned red.  He had never dreamed that his children would accept 
something so completely out of character with barely a fluttered word 
or batted eyelash. Vaguely he wondered if this was somehow all a 
dream, and any moment he was going to wake up to find that nothing 
had changed. That Erik was still fighting against him, that his 
students still didn't know him.
        That he was still alone.
        "There you go again."
        "I always wondered whether or not you had some telepathic 
ability, Scott." Charles mused, making a show of checking his 
calendar, "Perhaps I should begin testing you-"
        //Leave the boy alone, Charles. He's simply worried about 
you.//
        Charles glanced up at the mental snigger from Erik, who was 
now standing in the doorway.
        "And why would he be worried about me, Erik?" Charles asked, 
not bothering to keep the teasing tone from his voice.
        //Because the two of us are not holed up in your room with 
the drapes drawn and the doors closed.//
        If anything, that comment made him blush harder, but more 
from excitement than embarrassment.
        Scott took in the pointed look Erik gave him, and decided to 
take his leave. "If there was nothing else, sir. I think Jean wanted 
to talk to me about something."
        Charles watched the retreating back of his first student, 
noticing the slight shake of his shoulders as he tried to keep from 
laughing. "If I didn't know any better Erik, I would swear you were 
some kind of catalyst."
        Erik raised one silver eyebrow at that, "For what?"
        //Rampant silliness.//
        Erik smiled at that, settling onto the edge of Xavier's desk. 
Charles heard the door close and lock before Erik lowered his head, 
planting a light kiss on his still burning forehead. "I love it when 
you blush," he said, letting his eyes sink into Charles'.
        Charles smiled, " It brings a new meaning to blushing to your 
hairline, doesn't it?"
        Erik smiled again, then settled into the chair across from 
Xavier. "You haven't been eating, you know," Erik said in a 
conversational tone, that in itself a warning. " You arent trying to 
make yourself sick, are you professor?"
        " I skipped one meal, Erik." Charles countered, suddenly 
finding the papers thrown haphazardly over his desk fascinating.
        //I know you.  I skipped one meal. Translation: I haven't 
eaten all day and its almost eleven o'clock. I have something for 
you. Do you think you could pry yourself away from those papers for 
an hour or two?// 
        "Don't patronize me, Erik, unless you want the same 
treatment."
        Erik smiled. He loved playing games with Charles. The man, 
for all his powers and intelligence, was on occasion completely 
clueless. "Come on, Charles."
        Xavier watched Erik's retreating back, and began following. 
He was planning something, of that much he was certain. Erik was 
keeping a tight grasp on specific thoughts, and was doing so loudly. 
He was definitely planning something, and teasing Xavier with it.
        "Erik, if this is some…kind…of…"
        "I take it that means you like what you see?"
        "Yes."
        Charles couldn't believe what he was seeing. Candles, long 
tapers and thick pillars stood on every surface, bathing the room in 
a golden light. On the floor several pillows were piled up, the cover 
on several dishes and a wine bottle just visible over them. The 
window was thrown open, allowing the light from the waning moon to 
add its own silver light.
        //I thought you said you never thought of anything 
romantic.// Charles shivered at the light fingers playing on his neck.
        "It's incredible what you can discover about yourself when 
you have the time. Shall we?"
        Instead of being lead to the pillows, Charles found himself 
being steered towards the bathroom, where another sight greeted him. 
His tub, one of the few that he hadn't had torn out when the house 
was refurbished, had been a clawfoot, narrow, but long enough to 
accommodate his length. Now it was not only longer, but wider, enough 
so for three people, and filled with sandalwood scented water.
        "Erik,"
        " It's copper, Charles, and much thicker than it needed to be 
in the first place."
        Charles was about to answer when he felt a slight tugging at 
his shirt. One by one the metal buttons were slipping themselves out 
of their holes, the fabric spreading.
        "Wouldn't you rather use your hands for this particular 
task?" he asked, then felt himself being lifted.
        "If you insist."
         He found himself being supported in front of Erik, who 
continued to undress him. With nothing to do, he began doing the same.
        "This is supposed to be for you, Charles." Erik said, mock 
angry when Charles pressed a kiss to his collarbone.
        //Just shut up and hurry.//
        "Impatient?"
        //Erik.//
        But Erik refused to be rushed. It had taken two days for him 
to come up with something that he considered perfect, something that 
could communicate to Charles how he felt. Now that he had the man 
where he wanted him he wasn't going to rush anything.
        Charles shuddered when he felt a firm, but gentle, force 
pulling his hands to his sides. He tested that hold, and found it 
giving, but still firm. That thought that he was at Erik's mercy 
heightened his arousal.
        //I never took you for the submissive type, Charles,// Erik 
sent, feeling the increase in the iron flow caused by increased 
heartbeat. He was even more amused when Charles didn't say anything 
in retaliation.
        Slowly, with caresses, he undressed the man held suspended 
before him, mapping him with his hands and lips. This was something 
they hadn't done in more than twenty years, and we wanted it to go 
perfectly, wanted to know this Charles. 
        Finally, he came to the catch in Xavier's pants, teasing the 
flesh there, and smirking when Charles hitched, trying to dance away 
from his hold. Slowly, he let his hands explore over the fabric, 
testing the muscles of his lower back and buttocks. "You always had a 
wonderful behind, Charles," he said, moving his hands lower.
        Charles was torn between bliss and apprehension. For the 
first time in years, he truly hated his legs, hated the limitations 
they placed on him. There was so much he wanted to do, and so much 
that he couldn't.
        Erik picked up on that apprehension, feeling it in the sudden 
stiffness of Xavier's posture. "Stop worrying, Charles," he said, 
guessing what had his lover suddenly uptight, " Together I'm sure we 
can imagine some way around it."
        Charles didn't answer. He didn't want to be pitied, or 
indulged. 
        Erik sighed, then began undoing the buttons of his pants. He 
slid the material down Xavier's legs, remembering how ticklish he had 
been behind the knees. Then Charles was standing in front of him 
naked, and he felt a surge of longing that he hadn't experienced in 
years.
        Slowly, he began tracing his fingers up the sides of Xavier's 
legs. //Tell me when you can feel me.//
        "There," Charles said when Erik's hands reached mid thigh. 
Pulling against the restraints, he busied himself undoing those 
buttons he hadn't gotten to before. " You're getting in that tub with 
me, whether you want to or not."
        Erik let himself be undressed, smiling to himself. Charles' 
apprehension was fading with his desire, and that was exactly what he 
wanted.
        
        Charles sighed as the warm water seeped into him, the sound 
deepening when Erik slid into the space between his legs. Taking 
handfuls of water, he began wetting Erik's hair, taming the cowlicks 
that formed with delicate combs of his fingers. He reached for the 
shampoo Erik had placed near the tub, pouring some into his hand, 
inhaling the scent of spices and something else, something that was 
Erik. Gently, he began washing the other mans hair, letting his 
fingers ply through the thick silver strands.
        "So, what brought on this sudden rush of romanticism?"
        "Hmmm?" Erik said, lost for a moment in the hands that were 
on him, "Oh, I thought you could use some spoiling. After all, you 
have done such a good job with me over the past two and a half weeks."
        Charles didn't answer. Taking more handfuls of water, he 
rinsed the suds from Erik's hair, watching the soapy water play down 
the strong neck and shoulders. The involuntary thought of, "And its 
all mine," shifted through his mind. Picking up another bottle, he 
poured its contents onto Erik's head, laughing when he jumped at the 
sudden coldness.
        "Remember, I like to make you jump."
        Erik said nothing, though the thought of, //just wait// did 
shift from him.
        Charles massaged the conditioner into Erik's hair, then let 
the solution set as he picked up a sponge and began laving the mans 
neck with strong, sure strokes.
        "This was supposed to be about you," Erik said, half turning.
        Charles snickered, letting a hand reach around and pinch a 
nipple, "I like bathing you, now, be quiet, or you'll break my 
concentration."
        Smiling, Erik did so, indulging in the feeling of being 
washed. He and Charles had only done so a few times in their days in 
Haifa. The tub they had was too small for him to stretch, the hours 
they worked at the hospital overlapping and shifting, so that when 
one was at work, the other was home.
        Erik jumped again when the sponge reached his stomach, 
flitting over the sensitive skin teasingly, then dipping lower. To 
his disappointment Charles didn't linger over his genitals, instead 
giving them a quick and thorough once over. 
        "Turn around."
        Erik did so, leaning against the opposite end of the tub, 
Charles taking care washing his legs and feet, more than once 
tickling him with the sponge. The steam in the room gave Charles a 
sheen of sweat that he found himself fascinated with.  Satisfied, 
Charles motioned for Erik to once again settle in his lap. 
        //Thank you,// Erik sent, molding himself to Charles' chest. 
He let Charles tip his head back, then felt the trickle of water as 
the conditioner was rinsed out of his hair.
        Turning, he gave Charles a look that sent heat up the other 
man's spine. "My turn."


        It was one of the most erotic baths he had ever experienced, 
Charles thought later, after being dried and placed in a silk robe. 
Erik had been merciless, using every bit of skin to his advantage, 
enhancing the experience with nips and playful bites. Even the drying 
had been agonizing, the towel changing from rough to gentle, to 
teasing.
        He had definitely underestimated the man.
        "I'm glad you enjoyed it," Erik said, settling next to 
Charles.
        Xavier smirked, "I've always wondered if you were a latent 
telepath."
        Erik shook his head, reaching into the basket and pulling out 
a domed plate, " That wonderful, dreamy look in your eyes always 
gives you away, you know."
        Charles inhaled the smell of spices, wondering what Erik had 
made. He remembered from their days in Haifa that he had always been 
an excellent cook. "Spoiling me, Erik?"
        He said nothing, instead removing the dome to reveal steak, 
potatoes, and a salad, more than enough for two.
        For the next thirty minutes they took a simple joy in feeding 
each other, no small amount of teasing involved. By the time they 
were done Charles was slightly tipsy, something he hadnt allowed 
himself to be in years, and he knew Erik knew it.
        Sighing, he reclined in the pillows, throwing his arms over 
his head, //I feel like Im floating.// He let himself bask in the 
warmth of the room, the candles, which had earlier cast the room in 
light, now added to the shadows, turning everything a deep, burnished 
gold. Charles closed his eyes, wanting to remember the moment, 
cataloguing every scent, every touch.
        The lips that lighted on his were gentle, as were the hands 
that parted his robe, flitting over his skin like butterfiles. 
Lazily, he returned that caress with his mind, smiling when the 
pressure against his mouth increased. Content, he opened himself to 
Erik, taking in the taste of wine and herbs on his tongue, a heady 
combination.
        //Erik.//
        A weight on his stomach made him open his eyes, and he found 
Erik straddling him, staring into his eyes with intensity. His hands 
were still gentle, though there was an urgency that he hadnt felt 
before.
        "I want you, Charles," he whispered, leaning down to plant 
another kiss on the mans lax mouth, "Do you want me?"
        As if he needed to ask.



Yep, I did it again, calling a stop before the good stuff. (evil 
grin).
Want more, let me know


Love and stuff apocl158
        




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 Title: Riders on the Storm 5/?
Pairing: Xavier/Magneto
Fandom: you know that one
Disclaimer: I don't own them, damn it all. They belong to marvel, who 
has been abusing them for years. I think they would rather be with 
me, personally.


Thanks for reading this guys. Please, send feedback, I'm going 
through withdrawal !!!!!!!



        Charles was speechless, wanting and apprehension stealing his 
thoughts. He wanted this, deep somewhere inside himself, he needed 
this. But he couldn't say anything, couldn't even send a telepathic 
message. All he could do was nod his head, and pray that Erik 
understood.
        Erik smiled, the expression starting out as a lifting of one 
side of his mouth, then gradually growing until it became blinding, 
swallowing Xavier in its heat, its light. Vaguely, he remembered 
yanking at the ties to Erik's robe, pulling the material aside so 
that his hands could reach heated skin. He sat up,  planting a kiss, 
and then a playful bite on Erik's shoulder, unsurprised when his 
received the same treatment.
        When he felt warm hands wrap themselves around his erection, 
his heart stopped. 
        "Erik, what are you…"
        In answer he felt something being spread over him, something 
cool. Before he could utter another word he found himself sinking 
deep into Erik, soaking up that heat, that pleasure, and unable to do 
anything but moan in pleasure. Before he could adjust, he found 
himself moving to the rhythm that Erik created, a slow, steady pulse 
that was building.
        Erik was ecstatic. He had Charles where he wanted him, unable 
to think, unable to do anything but respond, to follow.  He sighed at 
the pressure inside him, his breath hitching when Xavier hit his 
prostate, sending a burst of ecstasy through him, and then doing it 
again.  This was what he had been missing, that closeness, that heat, 
and a mutual need that was tearing through both of them.
        He almost didn't feel it, the mental tendrils that Charles 
was wrapping around him, sinking into him. For a moment he considered 
pushing them away,  but thought against it. This was for Charles, and 
as such, he had free reign. As before, he felt himself spiraling out 
of control, the mixed sensations driving him over the edge. Charles 
was filling him, but at the same time he was filling him. Kisses, 
caresses, all blended together, creating a conflagration that was as 
close to heaven as he believed he would get.
        "Charles…"
        The sentence was cut off when lips crashed down on his. Any 
sense of gentleness was gone now, their bodies straining for only one 
thing, release.  He clutched Charles to him with a strength that he 
knew would bring bruises, but he didn't care. The thought of Charles 
marked by him, bearing the evidence of his passion, heightened his 
pleasure, pushing him over the edge, and carrying Xavier with him.


        Erik smiled, placing a gentle kiss on the chest beneath him, 
feeling the heart still hammering. Charles was still apart of him, 
and he didn't want that intimate invasion to leave. Sighing, he 
turned curious eyes at the man beneath him, eyes lazy with sated 
passion. 
        Charles was still floating in the midst's of that passion, 
refusing to let the last dregs of it drain away from him. Their 
lovemaking was not as violent as it had been before, the release that 
followed tempered in its rage. But it was deeper, touching something 
inside him that he had thought lost forever.
        He glanced down when he felt a warm weight burrowing into his 
chest. "Cold?"
        Erik laughed, he was sure he would never be cold again, "No, 
just…happy."
        Charles ran a hand down Erik's arm, twining their fingers for 
a moment before playing with the pulse beat he found there. He was 
happy as well, he realized, happier than he had been in years.
        He started slightly when he felt the two of them being 
lifted, cold air teasing the sweat on his back, "Erik, what did Hank 
tell you-"
        //Hush, Charles.//
        The feel of sheets beneath his back brought a sigh to his 
lips, another one following when he felt Erik lifting off of him. He 
was about to protest the loss when he felt sheets brush against his 
skin, followed by a strong arm pulling him close. Content, he settled 
into that strength, and dosed.


        Few times in his life had Erik allowed himself the luxury of 
self-contemplation. There were too many things to be done, plans to 
be made, for him to wonder about yesterday. When he found he was 
dying, that had changed, the events of yesterday becoming more 
important than those of tomorrow. It was to that end that he had come 
to the mansion, hoping to in some way repair the damage he had done 
years ago. Never had he imagined that they would wind up where they 
started, though somehow not where they started. He recognized the 
change, the difference in what was happening. Somehow, despite all 
their battles, what they had felt stronger, better.
        Watching Charles sleep had been a pastime of his, gauging the 
rise and fall of his chest, tracing the bone structure with his eyes. 
He'd always wondered how Charles could have jet-black eyebrows, 
dramatically arching over his eyes, when the stubble he remembered 
had been blond, almost platinum.  There were so many things about 
Charles that he hadn't known, and truth be told, hadn't wanted to 
know. That distance had allowed him to walk away, to leave, despite 
what he had felt, in spite of the pain it caused him. Now that 
distance was no longer there, and he was grateful, because it gave 
them a stronger base.
        He smiled at the small noise Charles made, the sound 
somewhere in between a sigh and a moan, as he settled further into 
Erik's heat. The thin sheet outlined his body, showing the well-toned 
body off to perfection.  Though he was still taller, and heavier, 
Erik found the thought of the two of them being on an even playing 
field entrancing.  Gently, he traced the pulse that beat lazily in 
Charles' throat, feeling the iron in it. Unfocusing his eyes, he let 
himself see the bands of color that extended from Xavier, the deep 
blues and greens of the magnetic spectrum. He wondered if he was the 
only one who could see their beauty, that shifting dance of colors 
and impressions that was apart of everything.
        //You're thinking loudly, you know.//
        The sleepy declaration was accentuated by a well-deserved 
stretch. 
        //My apologies.//
        Charles smiled as he sat up, still half asleep, //Don't. It 
is not everyday that you do so.//
        Erik smiled before stretching himself, luxuriating in the 
heat warming them. The candles had long since gone out, the room 
bathed only in the silver light of the moon. "Why are you awake?"
        Charles leaned in for a light kiss, "I told you, you were 
thinking loudly," his smile turned into a grin before he continued, 
" And the feel of you against me wasn't something I wanted to sleep 
through."
        Charles had a moment to think, he truly did, before he found 
himself laying on his stomach, a very masculine, very aroused weight 
pressing him into the soft mattress, "Who said I was going to let you 
sleep through it?"
        Erik's only answer was a rocking that brushed the heated skin 
of Xavier's back against his erection. A moan rose in his throat, but 
he clamped it down. Starting at Charles' shoulders, he began to 
knead, taking in small handfuls of flesh and working them like a cat. 
Slowly, he continued until he reached Xavier's waist, and the man 
beneath him was completely relaxed. It was one of the few things that 
he didn't understand about people; of all the things that could turn 
a person on, a good back rub was perhaps the most potent.
        Planting a light kiss on Charles' nape, he reached for the 
lubricant that he had used earlier. Slowly, gently, he began working 
a finger into Charles, adding another when he heard a satisfied sigh.
        //I missed this,// the thought was sent before Charles could 
control it.
        "So have I."
        After several minutes Erik decided that it was time. Placing 
a generous coating of lube on his erection, he began pushing, gently 
but firmly, into Xavier, trying not too loose himself in that heat. 
Slowly he sank in, until he rested against Charles. The feeling was 
incredible.
        Gently, he rocked against him, drawing a moan of pure 
pleasure from Xavier.  Confident that he had not hurt him, he began 
pushing into him with more force, still careful, but growing 
constantly less so.
        //Oh God, yes// Charles sent as the tip of Erik's organ 
brushed against his prostate, sending a frisson of  pure pleasure 
coursing through him. He stretched his hands over his head, gripping 
the edge of the mattress as the pleasure mounted. Lost in it, he 
began to rock backwards, catching Erik on the down stroke and 
increasing the friction against him engorged member.
        Erik was almost unaware of this movement until he felt the 
slight fluttering of Xavier's sides, a telltale tensing that let him 
know the other man was close to release. Smiling to himself, he 
pushed his forearms under Charles and leaned up, taking Charles with 
him until he sat on his haunches, Xavier supported on his thighs.
        Charles leaned back, placing a lingering kiss on the smooth 
expanse of neck next to his head, "Teasing me?"
        "Always."
        This new position sent heat through Xavier as the tension 
rose between them. The loss of friction against his erection was 
something he wasn't prepared to tolerate, and he reached down.
        Erik reached out, grabbing both of Charles' hands and, 
twining his finger with them, held them against Xavier's chest. 
"No cheating." And with that, he began to move.
        Charles was bereft for only a moment before the burning 
pleasure spreading from inside him took over. He tried to keep 
control of himself, but soon he was moaning, unintelligible sounds 
that brought a smile of pure lust to Erik's face. For him, the 
pleasure was constantly growing, becoming deeper, stronger, until it 
bordered on pain. 
        //Erik, please.//
        Erik rested his head against Xavier's, pushing away the 
tendrils that the man sent out. He wasn't going to share in the 
pleasure this time, he wanted this to be something for Charles alone, 
but his control was faltering. Muscles too long out of use were 
trembling against the sudden workout, and his own orgasm was 
clamoring for release. 
        A gentle kiss on Charles' neck was all the warning he 
received before he was lost. Focusing his powers, Erik sent a bolt of 
energy through Xavier's system, toying with his receptors. The result 
was instantaneous.
        //ERIK!//
        The mental cry was music to Erik as he let himself go, 
emptying himself into a shuddering Xavier, his breath leaving him in 
harsh gasps. For a moment he held them there, working on sheer will 
alone, until his muscles refused to obey. As gently as his strained 
muscles would allow he walked them forward until he was resting on 
Xavier, his harsh breathing fanning Charles' cheek as he attempted to 
draw air into his lungs. Vaguely, he wondered who else on the grounds 
had heard the cry Xavier released during his climax, and was filled 
with possessiveness. 
        Everyone who heard it would know whom Charles belonged to.
        //I heard that, Erik,// Charles sent, though the message was 
weak and thready. He had barely enough energy to continue breathing, 
let alone use his powers.
        Erik didn't answer, instead, he reached down and pulled the 
sheet over them, loving the way it cooled his overheated skin. His 
energy gone,  he snuggled into Charles' back.  Following suit, 
Charles' reacquainted himself with Erik's weight before drifting into 
sleep.


        Pain.
        Erik woke with it, turning his head to look at the digital 
clock that Charles kept by the bed. 
        6:15.
        Reluctantly withdrawing from Xavier, which brought a grumble 
of discontent from the sleeping man, he rolled out of bed, trying to 
balance the colors and sounds running through his mind. When they 
refused to quiet, he reached for a pair of sweats that he had placed 
by the bed as a matter of habit, almost snarling when his fingers 
refused for long moments to respond to his commands. But Erik was 
used to controlling his body, even when said body was working against 
him, and after a few minutes, he pulled the sweats over his narrow 
hips. Blinking away the lights flashing before his eyes, he stood, 
and promptly passed out.


        //Charles…//
        The muffled cry was enough to wake Charles from his sleep 
before the thud that followed. Panicking, he dragged himself over to 
the edge of bed, afraid to look even as he did. The sight that 
greeted him was enough to freeze his heart.
        In the early morning light he saw the outline of Erik, a thin 
trickle of darkness leaving a trail across his face from his nose.
        //Hank!! I need you in here, IMMEDIATELY!//
        Henry was responding to the urgency of that call before he 
was completely awake, dashing down the corridors until he reached 
Xavier's room. Without hesitation he entered, and something cold 
gripped his chest at the scene he found.
        Charles Francis Xavier, the man who had taken him in when no 
one else would have, was crying, something he had never before 
witnessed in all his years of living with him. Erik's head was 
cradled in his lap, the blood pouring from his nose making a dark 
blot on the sheet wrapped around Charles' waist.



OKAY GUYS. The next part will be a choose-your-own-ending. im not 
telling what happens, but tell me what you think should happen, and 
Ill write the winner and one of my own devising.
Love and stuff, 
apocl158        




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Title: Riders on the Storm 6/6
Pairing: Xavier/Magneto
Fandom: don't ask
Disclaimer: no they arent mine and no im not making any money off of 
them. Please don't sue. Im a college student for Christ sake, I can 
barely pay to do laundry.


Yep, this is the end guys, hope you enjoy.


        Charles was fuming.
        Hank had taken Erik to the Medlab in record time, bounding 
down the halls with his precious cargo held tightly to him, careful 
not to jar him too much. More than once Charles had wanted to scream 
at him, to tell him to be careful, but the thoughts running through 
his head, the diagnosis, possible treatments, kept him at bay.
        That and the thought that if Hank was distracted for even a 
moment, they both might crash into a wall.
        Still, Charles managed to throw on a shirt and climb into the 
hover chair in record time, entering the Medlab in time to see Hank 
checking Erik's eyes, one hand busy there, the other wrapped around 
Erik's wrist, trying to find a pulse. Jean and Bobby entered soon 
afterwards, Scott and Logan coming hard after, each with too many 
questions in their minds for him to concentrate. Vaguely he realized 
that the psyche call he had given to Hank might have reached all his 
students, and perhaps most of the telepaths in the general area.
        The sound of the heart monitor flat-lining nearly killed him.
        Quickly Jean and Hank began giving CPR as the pads charged. 
Watching Erik's body jump as the electricity slammed through it, then 
flop lifelessly back onto the table, made him panic. It was with no 
little amount of coercion that he was led from the Medlab, Jean 
giving him reassurances that they'd get Erik back, that he was only 
in the way, and they could work easier if he wasn't in the room.
        Now, after showering, being told that Erik was stabilized for 
the moment, and dressing in a pair of slacks and a loose shirt, he 
was looking down at the man he had almost lost, listening to the 
diagnosis.
        "The primary cause of the attack was too much pressure on the 
bi-lateral area of his brain. From X-rays it appears that the tumor 
has grown substantially in size, which caused the initial bleeding. 
This attack was sudden, so I can only surmise that he was using his 
powers a great deal before its onset."
        Hank continued his diagnosis, though his eyes never left the 
two men in front of him. Magnus, to his eyes, looked more fragile 
than he had when he first arrived, eyes taped, the respirator beside 
him rising and falling. He was certain he had been stabilized, and 
unless he awoke within the next five minutes and began dancing a jig 
on the table, was not his main concern.
        Never in his memory could he remember Charles looking so 
fragile. The last time was when he believed that the X-men had 
perished, and even then he could not remember this bone deep sorrow 
that radiated from him. To his well-trained eyes, Charles looked like 
a man on the verge of a breakdown.
        One that didn't seem to care.
        "Charles…Charles… Professor Xavier?" Hank said the words 
softly, but it was the last one that caught the mans attention.
        "Yes, Henry?"
        "We will get him back, but it will take time. The damage is 
more extensive this time." He sighed ripping the delicate glasses off 
his face. "There is something else you need to know."
        Charles could almost feel the ax fall, but he asked 
anyway, "What?"
        Hank would have given his sight to take back the words he was 
going to say, to make them untrue, "The original treatment is no 
longer working."


        Erik looked up, noticing that the sun was now dipping below 
the swing backed buildings of Haifa. Standing, he stretched, wincing 
as his joints popped in protest at being moved. Yawning, he moved 
into the small closet that served as a pantry, idly wondering what he 
and Charles would eat. He wanted to make something special, because 
something in the air seemed to call for it. Smiling, he reached out 
and grabbed a sack of pomegranates, reaching for a bottle of vodka 
with the other hand.
        He knew just the thing.


        Gently, Charles probed Erik, laying a blanket of reassuring 
thoughts over him, uncertain if he should attempt anything else. In 
the past Erik had always responded badly to probes, and he did not 
want to risk making the man go into convulsions. Still, he tried, 
searching for some opening into his loves mind. Trying to shake the 
feeling that somehow he was going to loose him, and this time it 
would be forever.
        "Professor?"
        The urge to yell, to tell her to leave him with his grief, 
was almost overpowering, but he controlled it, opening his eyes 
slowly, "Yes, Jean?"
        "Are you alright?"
        There was only so much a man could take. "Jean, what would 
you do if Scott died within the next five minutes? How would you feel 
if you could never tell him I love you again, tell him how much you 
missed him? That you never wanted him to go? What would you do if you 
could never take back all the things that were left said, and never 
say the things left unsaid between you?"
        Jean shook her head sadly, "I'd feel like my life had ended."
        "Then why in the hell would you ask me that question now?"
        Jean was taken aback. She could not remember a time when 
Charles had cursed at her, or even near her, even when he was in his 
most impressive rages, which themselves were something to feel, but 
not to see. " Because I don't know what else to say."
        Charles shook his head. Her words had been nothing, nothing 
but meaningless jabber to cover up her own insecurity, her own 
helplessness. That was something he knew a great deal about. " I 
apologize for snapping at you."
        Jean nodded once. She knew enough about grief, knew the forms 
it took, to not take his words too personally. 
" You've been down here for hours, Charles. I was wondering if you 
needed something to eat or drink. Or if you just needed someone to 
talk to."
        Charles shook his head, knowing that no matter what he said, 
she would send down a tray. "I'm fine Jean, thank you." 
        Jean nodded and walked out of the Medlab. She knew Charles, 
knew that he wouldn't talk to his students, because he very rarely 
discussed his personal life with anyone, as far as she could tell. 
But there was one person who seemed capable of dragging Charles out 
of the shells he placed around himself, kicking and screaming if need 
be. 
        Sighing, she headed for the telephone, trying to recall the 
number to Muir Island.
        Charles watched her leave, then turned his eyes back on his 
charge. He was determined not to leave Erik's side, even for a 
moment, for fear that if he did, Erik would no longer be there.
        " I wish you could provide me with a new heart," He said to 
the empty room, "Because the one I have is breaking."


        It was five days, five agonizing days before he was finally 
banished from the Medlab. And he did not go quietly. It was only at 
Hanks insistence that he was not prepared to care for another patient 
that Charles finally left Erik's side, though he practically 
extracted a blood oath that if Erik so much as twitched, he would be 
notified immediately.
        Now, heading up to his room, he felt the adrenaline high that 
had kept him running on nothing but water and the few bits of food 
that he forced down waning. He had barely slept fifteen hours in the 
last 120, and he was feeling every single hour with crystal clarity.
        He knew she was there, before he heard her voice, which was a 
feat since she was screaming like a banshee.
        "ye call me in the dead o night, tellin' me that Charles 
needed me, then when I get here ye tell me he caint see me now? What 
in the blazes are ye tryin ta do, give me a coronary?"
        He smiled as Bobby attempted to calm the irate woman, all the 
while looking for a place to hide, "Im sorry Moira, but he really 
doesn't want to see anyone right now. He practically hisses at anyone 
who goes into the Medlab who isn't Hank, and I don't think he needs 
you yelling at him and making him feel worse than he already is."
        Moira was sputtering with rage, "Ill make him worse that he 
already is. I tell ye, the man needs a good smackin upside his head 
is all. And if you children are too afraid to deliver I'll gladly-"
        "Hello Moira."
        Stopping in the middle of her sentence, Moira turned, fully 
prepared to redirect her anger where she felt it belonged, but she 
stopped when she saw Charles' face. Pale, haggard, with five days 
growth of beard showing pale yellow against his jaw, he looked lost.
        "Oh, Charles,"
        He turned, blinking away the tears that were threatening to 
overflow his eyes. He hadn't cried since Erik had been taken to the 
Medlab, though there were times when he felt like crying until there 
was nothing left inside him to cry out, but his control had won the 
battle. Hearing her voice, soft with compassion, was enough to make 
him loose the tenuous control he possessed.
        Not caring if she followed, he headed towards his room, 
determined to get some amount of sleep. He was sure that if he was 
rested, he would be able to control the emotions coursing through him.
        Moira, on the other hand, had a different agenda entirely.
        He had barely closed the door when it was gently opened and 
she slipped inside before closing it again. She stood at the door, 
watching as Charles lifted himself out of the hover chair and onto 
his bed.
        "I am not in the mood for an "I told you so" speech," Charles 
said, his voice cold even to his own ears. "I am here to sleep, and 
if you intend to keep from doing so you are free to leave the room."
        Moira sighed. She had known Charles for too many years to be 
that easily put off. " Don't try the same act with me that frightens 
those children ye surround yerself with, Charles Xavier, it doesna 
work."
        Moving to the bed, she sat on the edge near Charles, willing 
herself to remain calm. Bobby had been right, the last thing he 
needed was a scalding. " Jean called a few days ago, but I couldna 
get away till today. What happened?"
        Charles decided, rather than answer with words, to answer 
with impressions. He could barely think straight enough without 
having to articulate.
        Moira was stunned by the wealth of emotions that poured into 
her, shifting from pride, to love, to a deep, bone gnawing guilt that 
somehow, the entire situation was his fault.
        "You keep thinkin that and I will smack you one, ye bleedin' 
idiot," Moira said gently, running a cool hand over Charles' 
forehead. 
        That gentle motion was enough to make Charles break, the 
smooth façade that he had pasted over his face cracked, letting all 
the sorrow run out with his tears. 
        Sighing, Moira held him as he shuddered, trying to calm the 
sobs that wracked him, knowing that this was what he needed if he was 
going to get through this cruel twist of fate. She also knew that she 
would be there if and when he needed her, something she was sure he 
would in the following days.


        It was an hour before he had finally allowed exhaustion to 
overtake him, an hour of tears that hung in her soul. The last time 
she had seen him in this state had been after his son died, and 
they'd held a small service for him on Muir. Even then he had not 
cried in front of his students, or anyone else. If she hadn't caught 
him at it, she was sure he would never have let her know.
        Foolish man. 
        "How's he doin'"
        Moira jumped at the raspy voice spoken so close to her before 
she recognized it as belonging to Logan, "He'll be fine, with time."
        The small man shook his head, then sighed, "You'd think he 
had given more than enough to appease the gods, but I guess I was 
wrong."
        Moira looked at him, her eyes wide, "I never took ye for the 
philosophical type."
        Logan turned to her, his eyes bright and filled with anger, 
not at her, but at circumstance, "There're a lot a things people 
don't take me for red, that's just another one of `em." He sighed 
again, pulling out a cigar and chewing on it. "Chuck's given up 
enough to satisfy anyone by my standards, and I don't please easy. 
Why they ask so much from him…" Logan trailed off, "We'll take care 
of em, don't worry."
        Moira watched Logan as he retreated down the hall, some of 
the weight on her heart lifting. As long as they stood by him, she 
knew Charles could weather the storm.
        The only question she had left was with how many scars.


        Charles woke, his head throbbing and a taste in his mouth 
similar to that of old motor oil. Sitting up gingerly, he reached for 
the glass of water he made a point of keeping by his bed and took 
several huge gulps. Closing his eyes, he made a general sweep of the 
grounds, his mind focusing on every one of his students for a split 
second. All seemed well, though anxious, and he knew why. With Erik 
teetering on the edge of death, they were wondering if he would 
finally fall over, or if he would somehow find a way to jump back at 
the last moment. With an overwhelming majority, they felt that he 
should tip over.
        The bastards.
        `Temper Charles,' he chastised himself. After all, they had 
every reason to be bitter about the current situation. Their worst 
enemy was being cared for, in their home, sleeping with their mentor. 
As a slap in the face, it couldn't have been harder.
        Slipping into his hover chair, he headed for the kitchen, his 
stomach making sure that that was his first stop on his way to the 
medlab. Without thinking, he pulled out the large sandwich that Jean 
had made earlier and cut off a large hunk, wrapping it in a paper 
towel and grabbing an apple to go with it. Had he seen any, he would 
have grabbed a small bag of chips as well.
        "Are you going to stand there all night, or do you wish to 
speak with me?" Charles said, proud of himself. Despite everything, 
his voice was sure, holding the same teasing yet serious tone that 
rattled his students.
        Quietly, Jubilee stepped into the kitchen, wearing a pair of 
Bamph pajamas. IT surprised Charles that no matter how adult wished 
to be, she still held on to her childhood.
        "I was worried about you professor." She said, leaning 
against the counter, "We all are."
        For a moment Charles felt like a deer caught in 
headlights. "I'm sorry I have been distant of late."
        Jubilee shook her head, the why-cant-adults-ever-just-drop-
the-act-and-come-out-about-how-they-feel look plain on her face. "Its 
not that. You weren't at breakfast, lunch, or dinner for the past 
five days. Every tray we sent down you barely touched. It's a miracle 
that you're still able to move around."
        //I did eat, Jubilee, just not as much as I usually do.//
        "Yeah, right professor," Jubilee countered, coming to kneel 
in front of him. "I brought four trays down myself, and you didn't so 
much as touch them. You cant do this to yourself. Im sorry he's sick, 
but-"
        "And its oh so apparent," Charles muttered just loud enough 
for her to hear it.
        Jubilee smiled slightly. Finally breaking through the 
exterior, "I am, despite all that immature behavior earlier. I was 
afraid that he would hurt us, ya know. I mean, after everything he's 
done, I don't thing I would trust him."
        This was entirely too much for Charles to deal with, "If that 
is all you have to say, I'll-"
        The hand slamming down on the controls of the hover chair 
stopped him. Jubilee wasn't going to let him go until she had said 
her piece.
        "No professor," she said, her voice serious, "That's  not all 
I have to say. We love you, no matter what we might say at times, and 
its worrying us to see you like this. Jean, Scott, Hank, Bobby, even 
Warren are pulling their hair out. Do you know how nasty it is to 
walk into a bathroom covered with hunks of hair? Gross." The 
expression she made brought a slight smile to his face. "They don't 
want to talk to you, because they think that you don't need anyone to 
talk to, and if you did it wouldn't be them. I don't believe that." 
Jubilee moved her hand, placing it over his, "You've helped all of 
us, don't push us away when we can help you, please Professor."
        Charles said nothing, giving an answering pressure when he 
felt her squeeze his hand. Then, he couldn't help but comment, "When 
exactly did this wise-one persona begin to surface?"
        Jubilee turned, her face serious, "Just because I act like a 
kid doesn't mean that I am one."


        Once again Charles was haunting the Medlab, and Hank could 
only sigh. Despite his best efforts Erik refused to respond to 
treatment, though he did manage to place the tumor into a resting 
faze. The only problem was that it left Erik teetering on the edge of 
comma, and that was frightening.
        "Professor Xavier, I don't know what to say." Hank was saying 
as they stared down at their patient. "At the least he should have 
awoken by now, but nothing appears to be effective."
        Charles nodded his head, the words Hank was unwilling to say 
breezing through his mind. Erik would never awake again, period, and 
there was nothing that could be done about it. "How long will he stay 
in this state, hank?"
        "Perhaps days, months, it is extremely difficult to 
determine. The cancer is affecting several different areas of the 
brain at once, making diagnosis almost impossible."
        "How long will he last if we take him off life support?"
        The question caught Hank off guard, " Depending on how strong 
he is, the same, though I doubt he would last for more than a week 
without the machines."
        Charles headed for the main console, dialing a number and 
waiting for an answer.
        "Avengers."
        Charles sighed, "I need to speak with Pietro and Wanda."


        There were definitely times in which Charles wished he didn't 
have scruples, and could use his powers as he saw fit. When Pietro 
Maximoff came storming into his home, demanding why the Avengers 
weren't told of Magneto's whereabouts as he was a threat, was one of 
them.
        "Pietro, please," this from Wanda, laying a calming hand on 
his arm. 
        `Bless you child,' Charles thought as he waited for 
Quicksilver to calm down. " I was sure you wouldn't want to speak 
with your father, and considering your natural reaction to his 
presence, I decided against it."
        Pietro said nothing, he just looked at his sister.
        "I'm sorry for my brothers outburst," Wanda said, moving 
forward to take Charles hand. 
        "If you would like to see him, I suggest you follow me," 
Charles said, heading towards the lift.
        Both Wanda and Pietro were silent when they saw their fathers 
pale form against the bedding, innumerable tubes connecting him to 
several machines.
        "How long?" Pietro asked.
        "He has been here for three and a half weeks," Hank 
answered, "though he has been in this state for the past five days."
        
        Pietro shook his head before turning to Xavier, "And how long 
were you planning to keep him hidden here?"
        "I wasn't planning on hiding him, Pietro," Charles began in 
what he hoped was his best calming voice, "Erik came here on his own 
accord. He was not held prisoner, and he could contact anyone he 
wished. I am sorry that you are unable to speak with him before he 
dies."
        Pietro laughed, the sound harsh and short, "This old man has 
proven that he and death are mutually exclusive."
        Charles shook his head, the next words he spoke low and 
controlled, "It appears that this time he will be unable to pull 
himself back from the brink as he has so many times before. The 
damage to his brain is irreparable, and please believe that we have 
been trying."
        Pietro said nothing as his sister took her fathers hand. She 
closed her eyes for a moment, and Charles had no doubt that she was 
settling within herself whatever conflicts they had had. After a few 
moments she lifted her head and left without a backward glance. 
Frowning, Pietro took a last look at his father before following.
        `Oh, Erik,' Charles thought as he turned his eyes to his 
lover, `The two of you are more alike than either of you was willing 
to realize.'


        Charles was dozing when he heard the heart monitor begin to 
beep erratically. Before he could send out a call Hank was there, 
checking fluid, taking charge of the situation. In moments the 
monitor was beeping steadily again, but at a much slower rate.
        Charles didn't need hank to tell him it was time.
        Sending out a silent call to Erik's children, Charles 
submerged his mind with Erik's, wanting at least, this time, to say 
goodbye.


        Erik smiled when the door to the apartment opened. Charles 
couldn't have had more perfect timing. Dinner was just ready, 
everything was set up, and the sun had already disappeared behind the 
houses, casting the room in a golden light.
        Charles looked at his surroundings, immediately recognizing 
their apartment in Haifa. Everything was the same, even the heat that 
seemed to beat them into the ground was there. A smile touched his 
soul to think that it was this time, this place, that meant so much 
to Erik that he would decide to spend his final moments here.
        "Are you going to stand there all night?"
        Charles started at the words, taking in Erik as he had been, 
young, ideal, his silver hair just past his shoulders. Still aged 
beyond his years, but by no means the damaged man that he had come to 
know later.
        "No," he answered, taking in the scene in front of him. " I 
was just, thinking."
        Erik lifted a silver brow as he sat down at the small table 
they used for dining, but said nothing.
        Charles joined him, knowing that these would be their last 
moments, and that he wanted them to count.
        Erik was curious. Charles, usually so light that he had to be 
anchored down for fear of being carried away by the slightest breeze, 
was almost brooding, though he tried to hide it. Erik let it go. If 
Charles was willing to talk about it, they would, but he wasn't going 
to press.
        Their meal was almost over when a familiar weight pressed him 
to the floor. Erik was surprised, but went along with it. He didn't 
mind that Charles was perhaps slightly rough with his kisses. In 
fact, he liked it.


        They made love to each other, letting passion say what words 
could not. Charles knew that he seemed desperate, and that was 
because he was. This would be their last time together, and he wanted 
Erik, if he could, to take all he could of him when he went.
        //I didn't think your day had been that long, Charles,// 
Erik  sent while they were still wrapped in each other.
        Charles didn't answer, he simply let his warmth sink into the 
other man.
        When he felt a tug, he wanted to scream.
        `Not yet, please' he thought, but there was nothing to argue 
against. Erik was slipping away, and if he didn't leave soon, he 
would be caught with him.
        "I have to go," Charles said, disentangling himself with 
kisses and caresses. By Erik's mind it was late in the evening, more 
than likely early morning. As he stood he found himself dressed, 
though Erik didn't seem to notice it.
        "Another eighteen hour shift?" Erik asked, feeling an 
anxiousness that he had never experienced. He wanted to grab onto 
Charles, to never let him go. It was overpowering, and he rose, 
slipping an arm around the other mans waist.
        "They need me," Charles said, trying to ignore the fear that 
was creeping into him. 
        Erik said nothing in return, he only stared, as if trying to 
memorize the face in front of him. Then smiling, he lightly slapped 
Charles, then settled back onto the floor, even as his mind 
screamed `I need you!'
        Charles couldn't resist bending down and stealing a last 
lingering kiss, putting everything he felt into it, startling Erik 
with its intensity.
        "Go to sleep," he said, heading towards the door, "Ill be 
back when you wake up." He stopped, taking in one more picture of 
Erik, tousled, sated, his blue eyes smoldering. "I love you," he 
said, just loud enough for it to carry to the other man. He was 
almost to the door when he heard it, faint, but still there.
        "I love you too."


        When Charles opened his eyes it was to the flat keening of 
the heart monitor. He felt tired, older, and something inside him was 
breaking, sending sharp pains throughout his body. He replayed their 
last moments over and over again, taking in every emotion, every 
scent, and every taste that they had shared in those last moments. 
They had seemed to last for hours, but he knew that in all honesty 
they were probably little more than a few stolen minutes.
        Vaguely, he listened to hank pronounce the time of death, 
still wrapped up in the warmth they had shared. Those last words were 
all that were keeping him there, watching as his love passed away.
        Finally, the monitor was turned off, and he became aware of 
Hank watching him. He heard his words of apology, sending out an 
answering message that it wasn't his fault, that it was Erik's time 
to die. All the while replaying those last words.
        "I love you too."
        It had taken the man twenty years to finally spit them out.


        Erik wrapped the damp sheet around himself, letting the scent 
of lovemaking wash over him. Something had been different, he was 
sure, but he was too tired to think about it at that moment. There 
would be plenty of time to grill Charles when he got off his shift.
        Settling onto the pallet that served as their bed, Erik let 
himself doze, knowing that Charles would be there when he awoke.





There it is, then end, at long last. Thanks for reading it guys, and 
sending feedback, which I love. See ya soon with more of my ramblings.


Love and stuff
Apocl158





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