-------------------------- eGroups Sponsor -------------------------~-~> eLerts It's Easy. It's Fun. Best of All, it's Free! http://click.egroups.com/1/9699/0/_/_/_/974089768/ ---------------------------------------------------------------------_-> Title: Tempting Fate (sequel to Regrets) Rating: PG-13 forand m/m slash themes (don't worry, it will get hotter, I promise =D Fandom: You guys know that already Disclaimer: All characters are the property of Marvel INC. I am not making any money off of this, so don't sue me. I'll put them back when Im done, promise. This is for you guys who asked for more =D Tempting Fate Charles Xavier looked up when he felt it. It was nothing really, a slight touch on the back of his mind, something he would have missed if he hadnt known what it meant. Magnus Slowly, Charles maneuvered his hover-chair from behind his desk and moved to the consul built into the wall of his study. A small light bleeped on it, the intercom system. Though he knew who it was, he pressed the button. "Magnus?" The word came out huskily and with small tingles of joy that he couldn't quite hide. The silence on the other end was all the confirmation he needed. "Professor Xavier? There's a visitor at the front gate," Jubilee's voice drifted over the intercom system, shaking him from the state of half dread half anticipation he had slipped into. " I know," he answered, " Unlock the system." "But who-" Charles pondered telling her the answer to her question for a moment before answering, " Its Erik." The silence that greeted his response was both heated and cold. He willed her not to ask him questions, to simply follow his instructions, though he didn't compel her to do so. Still, the thought was tempting. " Gate opened, sir." Without answering Charles moved to the door to his study. He was sure by the time he reached the front door all of his student would know they had a visitor. Erik Magnus Lensheer watched the gates open with trepidation. The last time he had entered them it was as an enemy, intent on hurting those who lived within. Now, he didn't know what he was. *You'd love the house, Eric, it fits your personality…* The fragment of a memory caught him unawares, and for a moment he was back in Haifa, back in the small hotel room he and Charles had shared so many years ago. "You were right, you know," he said, his breath making small clouds in the air around him, " It does fit me." Sighing, Erik began to walk towards the house. Walking, he assumed, would make him appear less of a threat to those who lived inside. That was how he thought of them. Not his enemies, not people who needed to be crushed, but those who lived inside, people who were sheltered by the love and understanding of a man who he knew too well. I wonder if there is room for me there as well, he thought absently, but swiftly crushed the tendril of longing that curled within him. Any right to that he had lost long ago, and doubted he could ever retrieve it. "Why are you here, anyway?" he whispered to himself as he drew closer. " What do you think he'll do, forget everything and take you back just because you're dying?" Dying. It was something that he never allowed himself to think about anymore. Over the years it had lost its potency, become something of a mystery to him. He hadn't died in the death camps, nor at the hands of his numerous enemies. Sometimes he had fancied himself invulnerable, impervious to the designs of nature… Now he knew that that was all it was, fancy. Charles was right. By the time he reached the door the foyer was already filled with people, most of which in battle uniform. The exceptions to that were Jean, who wore a blue shirt, and gray sweats, and Logan, in his usual tee shirt and jeans. "Professor," Scott began, "Are you sure this is a good idea?" Charles sighed. Sometimes Scott couldn't see the forest for the trees. " Scott, how many villains do you know that actually wait to be invited into the house before attacking?" A muffled `vampires' came from the back of the crowd, and he recognized Jubilees voice. A thought came unbidden into his mind, that of Erik leaning over him, fire in his eyes as he prepared to drink his blood. Get your mind out of the gutter, old man, he told himself. "With the exception of nightly visitors, as Jubilee informed us." Scott nodded his head and moved away from the protective stance he'd taken by the door. When no one else moved, Xavier decided to give them a not so subtle hint. " He's here under a flag of truce," he announced, though he had no idea if it was true, " What image will it give him to see all of you ready for a fight?" "That we aint stupid?" Gambit answered red on black eyes flashing. Charles couldn't contain the laughter that bubbled inside him, " I should have named you the Smart'alic bunch instead of the X- Men." Sobering, he added, "Please, I don't want him to feel threatened when he arrives, and seeing you in battle gear is enough to make me nervous. Please," he added when all he received were curious looks. Slowly, the groups disbanded, until only Logan and Bishop were left waiting. Charles knew that no amount of coercion on his part would get them to leave. " I'll be good, Chuck," Logan said when Charles fixed him with a `behave' glance. I wish I could say the same he thought. Erik wasn't surprised when the door opened before he was able to knock, what did surprise him was the look he received from Charles. The shine of joy was quickly replaced with concern when he saw the circles that surrounded Erik's eyes. * I must look much worse than I feel* he thought before he plunged into darkness. The only thing that saved Erik from landing on his face in front of Charles was the combined strength of Bishop and Logan. For a moment Charles was stunned. The haggard circles under Eriks eyes, the sallow tone to his skin, all spoke of illness, and a prolonged one at that. Before he could recover Bishop and Logan were taking the man to Medlab, and Charles couldn't have been more relieved. He couldn't think straight, couldn't think of anything accept the certainty that he was going to loose one of the few people that he truly loved. He was floating, and for the first time in several months there was no pain, nothing but a contentment that he hadn't felt in years. The surroundings were familiar, the hotel in Haifa. He smiled to himself, checking his watch and realizing that Charles would be home soon. Why the man insisted on working on his days off he couldn't contemplate, but it made him happy. Slowly Erik made his way around the room, frowning slightly. The small picture of the two of them was knocked over. Righting it, he let himself drift in the lazy heat of the afternoon, the sounds of the bazaar outside lulling him to sleep… "It's a tumor." Those three words were enough to pull the rug out from under Charles. For long moments he found himself desperately trying to hand onto something, anything, as he felt his world begin to collapse. Hank, who was intent on his patient, didn't notice his mentors fight for control. " From the scan, its located in the frontal lobe, with tendrils extending as far back as his midbrain." He sighed, removing his glasses, " From what I can tell, operating would be a very difficult procedure." "How difficult?" The question passed Xavier's lips before he could think. Hank looked up then, noticing the strain on Xavier's face, " It could be removed, but I would have to remove a considerable amount of brain matter with it. He would loose his fine motor skills, random memory, and considerable control over his abilities…" "In other words it really isn't operable." Hank nodded. Charles lifted a trembling hand and gently brushed a silver tendril of hair from Eriks face. So much I always wanted to tell you. So many things that we never had a chance to say… "Will he regain consciousness?" Hank removed his glasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose, " Perhaps. We might be able to force it into a type of remission with the Shi'ar technology we have, but for how long I don't know. The damage might already be too great for what we have." Charles nodded, his eyes never leaving Eriks face. You always were so peaceful when you slept. It was one of the few times where you let yourself relax, where no one could hurt you. "How soon can we begin?" Hank didn't hesitate before answering, " As soon as possible." That's it for now, tell me what you think pretty pretty please! I love feedback! Tell me if you want more or is this just sucks!! Love apocl158 To unsubscribe from this group, send an email to: XavierMagnetoSlash-unsubscribe@egroups.com -------------------------- eGroups Sponsor -------------------------~-~> eGroups eLerts It's Easy. It's Fun. Best of All, it's Free! http://click.egroups.com/1/9698/0/_/_/_/974158675/ ---------------------------------------------------------------------_-> Title: Tempting Fate 2/? Pairing: Xavier/ Magneto Fandom: that's a given Disclaimer: they arent mine, (damn!) If they were they would get a whole lot more action than they do now. All characters are the property of marvel INC. Im not making money off of this. Ill put them back when Im through, promise. This is for all you guys who like it. Thanks! =D Tempting Fate 2 Erik let himself drift in the sounds around him. Heard the lazy call of merchants from the bazaar, smelled the sweet, sharp scents that drifted through the open windows. Content, he let himself drift in the humid warmth that relaxed seeped into him, relaxing him… //Erik?// Something was wrong, he could feel it. He was drifting, in darkness, unable to tell which way was up or down. There wasn't any heat here, no warmth. Impressions began to make their way into his mind. He could see the lights, feel the hard bed beneath him. The smell of disenfectant assaulted his nose. For a moment he let fear overwhelm him. The many places that had held terror for him began to run together. The examination rooms in the camps, Zaladane, the many prisons that he had occupied throughout his life. All ran together, teasing his newly awakened senses. By instinct he reached out, grasping his powers and prepared to tear his way out if necessary. //Erik? Can you hear me? Please, calm down, we're not going to hurt you…// He could almost place that voice, it brought back memories; of swimming in a spring outside an oasis, being told he looked like a drowned rat. Of putting away dishes and cups. Of warmth… Slowly, Erik opened his eyes, taking in the hazy images around him. He looked questioningly into the eyes of the person leaning over him, trying to place the features. "Erik? Can you hear me?" The question brought back so many things, and for a long moment he only stared, trying to remember where he was. "Charles?" The question came out hoarse, and filled with enough trust to break something within him. "Its alright, we're trying to help you…" Charles absently placed his hand over Eriks as the mans empty glacial eyes swept over his surroundings. He could feel the confusion, the fear of those first few moments now knowing where he was. //Charles/ What happened?// The soft question brought Charles out of the revere he had slipped into. He knew it would do no good to try to sugarcoat Erik's diagnosis. Knew that Erik had already known the gravity of the situation before he arrived. "You passed out, Erik," he answered, keeping his voice soft and soothing. The words felt odd to him. Never had he imagined seeing the man he loved so vulnerable, so confused. There was no denying the scans they had run, though. He was dying, and there was very little they could do. "You're ill, Erik, though I assume you knew that before you came here." It was more a statement than a question. Erik watched the blue eyes that looked to deeply into his, "Like irises," he'd told him once, over dinner, "A pure blue that can never be duplicated." "Then you know?" "Yes." For a moment Erik was struck by the calm in the other mans voice. When he had discovered his condition he had ranted and raved for almost a week before coming to the realization that there was nothing that could be done, that no amount of anger to fix what was broken. "That's only one of the many things that is different about us," Charles said, picking up on his thoughts. "There," Erik answered, " Are fewer things that separate us than you think." With that comment drifting between them Erik tried to sit up, but was halted by a large hand. "That would not be a very wise decision at the particular point in time, Magnus." Erik followed the large palm up the long, blue-furred arm and to the face of Henry McCoy. For the first time he actually studied the mans features. It had always seemed strange, and slightly amusing, that the large, muscular man, with his blue-fur, would decide to wear such delicate, rim-less glasses. "Erik, you need your rest," Charles said when he saw the look of amusement on the other mans face. "we've been trying to help you, and it has been working. Please…" Suddenly Erik was no longer in the room. He was walking in a bazaar, looking for something perfect; having dinner over a small stove, too much wine making his tongue loose. He saw flashes: of sunlight; a warm hand; Shakespeare. Then there was too much, and he was drowning in sensation, unable to find something to hold on to. Desperate, he reached out, struggling to find something, anything, to anchor him. Then he felt it. A touch as light as silk and as strong as steel. He grabbed him, held him, calming the panic. //Don't worry, I wont let you fall.// "He has improved since we began the treatments, but it may be days before he is completely lucid again." Hank watched as his mentor shook his head in assent, his eyes never leaving Erik's face. He knew that the professor wasn't patronizing him, but not being able to read his eyes made him uneasy. " The cancer must be affecting his synapse, which is why he was slipping in and out of memory states. I would suggest that we keep him sedated so he will not pose a danger to himself or anyone else." Charles nodded in assent, finally lifting his eyes to Hanks, "That would be best. Most of his memories are not pleasant." Hank watched as the professor gently laid Erik's hand on the table, then maneuvered his hover-chair towards the door. "I suppose I should head upstairs and quell the rumor mill that is undoubtedly running rampant throughout the house. Please keep me updated on any changes in Erik's condition." Charles was proud of himself. His voice managed to convey none of the fear and uncertainty he was feeling. "Certainly, sir," Hank said as he turned back to the many blood samples he was studying. "I've already started him on an IV sedative, so he should be fine until I lessen the dosage." When the doors to the Medlab closed Hank began making notes in Erik's file. The professor's behavior was unusual, and the many half finished sentences that Erik had muttered while unconscious gave him something else to mull over. Yeah, part three will be up sometime tonight. Promise guys. Love apocl158 =D To unsubscribe from this group, send an email to: XavierMagnetoSlash-unsubscribe@egroups.com -------------------------- eGroups Sponsor -------------------------~-~> eLerts It's Easy. It's Fun. Best of All, it's Free! http://click.egroups.com/1/9699/0/_/_/_/974193954/ ---------------------------------------------------------------------_-> Part three of Tempting Fate. All the other stuff applies to this one =D including telling me what you think. Something you feel is missing? Anything I screwed up? Let me know!!!! Charles was assaulted by the thoughts of everyone when the doors to the lift opened. He could feel their doubt, their curiosity, and their anger washing through the house. He didn't doubt that the news that Erik passed out before he could even get in the door was already spread throughout all his X-Men, and probably Excalibur. He could imagine Moira yelling at him, demanding if he'd finally lost his mind. `I just might have' he thought before sobering. It would be best for both Erik and himself if he laid these rumors to rest. //Would everyone please meet me in my study.// The politely worded order went through the minds of his students at the same time. Sighing at the muffled assents he received, he started towards his study, trying to decide what they needed to know and what he needed to keep from them. He was surprised when he reached his study and found it filled with people. Usually some of them, like Bobby and Jubilee were the ones who came in late. Now they were seated side by side on one of the many couches that were situated around the room. Both Warren and Betsy occupied one of his loungers, talking to Jean and Scott, both of whom were leaning against his desk. Logan was with Bishop, both holding a conversation while keeping an eye on the room. Remy was talking with Orroro, who had a comforting hand on Rogues shoulder. He didn't need the room to hush when he entered to know that all had been discussing Erik and his sudden appearance. Nodding his head, he headed to his desk. There was little he could or would keep from them, so he began. "Hank?" "Up here," Charles looked up and found Hank hanging from the ceiling fan, riffling through papers while trying to keep his glasses perched on his nose. Charles remembered the look of disbelief on the contractor's face when he told him he wanted the fan to be able to withstand five hundred pounds of down pull. When the contractor asked why, he simply replied, "Do you really want to know?" The look on the mans face had been priceless. "Ready when you are professor," Hank said, dropping down and settling on the edge of the professors desk. For a moment Charles didn't know what to say, or where to begin, so he started the way he thought would reduce any anxiety his students were feeling, "Erik isn't here for conflict," he began, making sure he looked at each and every one of his students. " Nor is he in any condition to create or receive any from you." His declaration was met with silence. `This might be more difficult than I thought.' "So what's wrong wit `em?" Remy asked, his red eyes flashing. Though no one else had said it, he knew the question was burning on everyone's tongue. Charles took a deep breath before continuing. " Magneto has cancer," He said, knowing that calling Erik Magneto would distance himself just enough from what we was saying to keep him under control. " The main tumor is located in his brain, and is affecting his health. It is in no way benign. That is the reason he collapsed today." Sighing, he tried to control the emotions that raged within him. "I believe Hank can give a more detailed account of his illness than I can." As Henry launched into a discussion on the nature of the tumor and Erik's condition, Charles let himself drift. For a moment he was far from the cold of New England. He was laughing, discussing something as mundane as the weather as a hot desert wind scorched his lungs. `Oh, Erik, why do things always have to come to a head this way?' "Sir? How long will Magneto be staying here?" The question was enough to jolt Charles out of his thoughts. He answered without thought, "Until he wishes to leave." For the moment after that there was a complete silence. Tentatively, he sent a feeler into the room, passively discerning their emotions. Overwhelming was the sense of shock, coming from everyone except Hank. Hard on that emotion were anger, and thankfully, acceptance. Charles wished he could do a victory dance. Hopefully their transition wouldn't be as hard as he had feared. "Professor Xavier," Storm began, "Are you sure that this would be wise, considering his condition? If the tumor affects his brain, he could become a danger to us, and to himself." `Oh, Orroro', he thought before answering, " Erik will not pose a threat to anyone, at least not until he recovers, and I highly doubt he would afterwards. He came here because he has no where else to go. No where else he wanted to go, and that I can tell you with absolutely certainty." Orroro nodded, apparently accepting his answer, for the moment, at least, he thought. A movement caught his eye, and he watched as Jubilee stormed out of the study. He hoped she would calm down enough to talk to him soon. One by one the others gave their assent, lifting a weight of Charles' back. He hated to impose an order on them, knew that it would create more friction on the team, and on his family. This they seemed to respect with a kind of grudging willingness. He knew why. If Erik was dying, they wanted to make sure that he did, and didn't do any damage while he was doing so. The thought hit him with a chill. Finally, the room was empty with the exception of himself and Logan. This was the battle he wanted to win. If he could convince Logan that Eirk wasn't a threat, it would go a long way in claming Jubilee before she did something she would regret. "Chuck, are ya sure this is what ya want?" The question caught him somewhat off guard. Everyone else was concerned with if the decision was wise, what kind of danger having an enemy living in their house would bring, especially after what happened with Sabertooth. No one asked him if it was something he wanted. "Yes, Logan, very sure. And you?" Logan stared hard at the professor before answering. "I ain't got no problem with the guy livin here. Don't really blame `em for what happened on the asteroid either. There's lots easier ways ta kill me. An adamantium skull can be pulled from an adamantium skeleton as easily as he did anything else. He wasn't tryin' ta kill me. I know he was tryin' ta hurt you." Charles simply stared at the man in front of him. Of all the people to realize that, Logan was the last he suspected. "And you are afraid that is the reason he is here? As a kind of fait accompli? By making me watch him die knowing there was little I could do about it?" Logan shook his head and turned to leave, but delivered one parting shot before he did, "You're the one who knows `em so well, you tell me." Charles sat in his study for hours after that final meeting, unsure about how to proceed. He didn't believe that Erik could be so cruel, so deliberately come here, knowing that Charles wouldn't turn him away, knowing that it would add to all the frustration that permeated their tenuous relationship. As a crushing blow it would be perfect. Erik wouldn't have to do anything except arrive and let himself be taken care of, there would be no outward hostility. In the end the blame couldn't be placed on him, all he had done was succumb to nature. And Charles would be left picking up the pieces. Charles shook his head, as if trying to clear the thoughts from him mind, `I know you too well, Erik, and I refuse to believe you are that cruel, even after all you've done.' With that thought, Charles headed to his bedroom. The events of the past few hours had drained him, and he knew he needed sleep. All the while absently rubbing the small circlet of gold on his pinky. He was floating again, but this time it was controlled. He wasn't being tossed by shifting winds or slammed by harsh gails. The powers propelling him this time were gentle, caressing. Warm and inviting where the others had been harsh. Something flashed before him, then was gone before he could hold onto it, it flashed again. If he could just reach it… He hated hospitals. The infirmaries in the camps, small airless rooms where the only release was death, still haunted his dreams. Here, at least, the sun shined in through tall, high windows. The people inhabiting the many beds werent afraid for their lives, didn't dread the coming of doctor. In fact, they expected it. For the past five years the relief hospital in Haifa had been his life. He'd come barely able to forget his past, wishing desperately to do so, and hoping to gain some form of penance for his sins. Here he had found what he wanted, though he hated the price to those he helped. Lifting his head, he watched as some of the children silently read a book to each other, afraid to laugh, afraid to make any noise. Some of them had been born and raised in the camps, most had watched as their parents were torn from them, and none had recovered. Sighing, he turned away, feeling the old anger building in him. He glanced at his watch, and cursed when he saw the hour and minute hand spinning wildly. Closing his eyes, he tried to find the place he had escaped to when his nightmares became too much to bear. Slowly, the watch hands stopped, the time misplaced. Sighing to himself again, something he noticed had become a habit, he returned his attention to the child in front of him. "It's alright," he said softly in German as he lifted the teenager onto a waiting cart. "We're just going to bathe you." As the cart pulled away he began stripping the bed, another curse escaping his lips when he saw the stains that marred the sheets. The hospital was painfully under staffed, and sometimes it would be days before every person was checked on. Dumping the soiled bedclothes into a basket, he took out a brush and disinfectant. There were very few beds available, but he would be damned if he was going to have them lay her back down in filth. As he focused on his job his mind drifted, thinking to all of the other children and even adults who had been reduced to such a state by their experiences. Most of the people at the hospital suffered from survivor's guilt. Some were on constant suicide watch. Depression and self-loathing were rampant. But it was the eyes, the vacant eyes of those that had refused to accept what was happening around him that struck him. None of them responded. Not to anger, heat, cold, unexpected noises, visual stimuli. Very few of them even blinked. A hand touching his shoulder startled him. His first instinct was to strike out, to defend himself. Sharp images of torture and pain rushed in, almost taking him over. With the precision of long practice, he wrestled the emotions under control. Summoning a blank face, he turned to face his questioner. The eyes were the first thing he noticed. They were unlike the others in the room, which were fearful and lifeless. These eyes were full of life, of curiosity, and at the moment he caught flashes of pity and even anger in them. Not at him, but at the state of those around them. They reminded him of flowers, though he couldn't remember the bred. "Yes?" "Im sorry," The voice was cultured, clean. He recognized the American accent, which matched the others that volunteered at the hospital on occasion. "I didn't mean to startle you. I was told to find an Erik Lensheer He said nothing for a moment, studying the man in front of him. Tall, athletic, wearing the standard gear for people who worked in the hospital, his khaki pants ironed, shirt rolled to his forearms. For a moment he allowed himself to be lost in the play of the muscles and veins he saw there. Then his gaze returned to the mans face. Young, he thought. Much too young to be working in the hospital, though he was perhaps only a few years younger than Erik himself, at the most four. Handsome as well, he thought, then pushed the thought down. This was not the place for ogling. "Why do you want him?" He asked. The man raised a hand and rubbed the back of his head, something he guessed was a nervous gesture. It was then that he noticed that the man was bald. Completely. "I'm Charles Xavier," the man said, extending his hand. " I'm a medical doctor and psychologist. I volunteered for the hospital and just arrived. Erik Lensheer was supposed to show me around." Eirk shook his head. He remembered when he was asked to show their new doctor around when he arrived. He'd assumed that `no' was `no' in every language, but know he supposed he assumed wrong. He smiled then, the expression making him appear much younger. He clasped the hand that was presented to him. "It looks like you've found him." To unsubscribe from this group, send an email to: XavierMagnetoSlash-unsubscribe@egroups.com -------------------------- eGroups Sponsor -------------------------~-~> eLerts It's Easy. It's Fun. Best of All, it's Free! http://click.egroups.com/1/9699/0/_/_/_/974355728/ ---------------------------------------------------------------------_-> Title: Tempting Fate 4 Pairing: Xavier/Magneto Fandom: that's a given Rating: Hard r for language and sexual situation. For those of you who want more =D Tempting Fate 4/? Charles awoke with a feeling of definite unease, though he couldn't pinpoint the source. Concentrating, he let his mind float about the currents of the house, as its inhabitants roused themselves and prepared for another day. Resignation was heavy in the air. In the two weeks since Erik had arrived on their doorstep a solid routine had returned to the mansion. Charles knew that as long as Erik remained in the Medlab things would remain relatively quiet. That was not the cause for the disturbance, though the emotions pouring off of Remy and Logan as they awoke at seven from an all night drinking contest would have been enough. He found it amusing that they thought him unaware of their rituals, though he assumed Logan did it simply to annoy Scott when they were training. The cause for the unease was pouring out of one person, and it only took a moment before he recognized the cause. `I'll be damned if I stay down here another moment, Charles.' Erik. Sighing, Charles began to dress, wondering how he was going to keep their patient down long enough to run more tests. Erik Lensheer was a proud man. Forged in the heat of war and its aftermath, there were few things that he would allow to defeat him. A week of being confined to the Medlab after awakening was chafing him. Though he would never admit that it stemmed from his fear of confinement, he knew that that was one of the causes. The other was the fact that Charles had been avoiding him. After awaking for the first time, more lucid than he had felt for months, the first sight he had seen was Charles, smiling while holding his hand. They had talked for some time after that, each trying to fill the other in on what they knew about the disease. Charles had assured him that the Shi'ar treatments he was receiving were working miracles, though they could not completely cure him. He remembered falling asleep in the middle of the conversation, then waking hours later, Henry asking him how he was feeling and assuring him that Charles would return shortly. That had been six days ago. "You never were one to avoid conflict," he said as he pulled himself upright, wincing as the IV dug a little deeper into his vein. His muscles shook with the effort, and he noticed that he had lost considerable weight during his stay. A fine sheen of sweat stood out on his skin and he cursed as a wave of dizziness swept over him. Steeling himself, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and gingerly tested his weight on his legs. Wobbly, he thought, but adequate. Reaching for a robe he saw slung over the back of a chair, he stumbled, grabbing the bed post as he willed his stomach to calm. Slowly, the rolling pain ceased, and he righted himself, walking the IV stand with him as he approached the door. And fell into Charles' arms. Charles was prepared to fight with Erik on staying in bed. He was prepared to call Hank to assist him if Erik didn't cooperate. What he wasn't prepared for was Erik, all 6'3 240 pounds of him, to collapse in his arms. Not that he was complaining. " I thought you were told to stay in bed," Charles said as he attempted to right the man. He heard a gasp, and saw a brightly spreading mass of crimson. Looking up, he almost cursed at the expression of pain that crossed Erik's face. "I assume that was your IV?" Charles asked as the hover chair carried them both into the room while Charles tried to keep Erik from falling to the floor. "Shut up and let go," Erik mumbled into the other mans chest, breathing deeply in inhale his scent. It had been so long since he had smelled it. Slightly spicy with something that was wholly Charles. "Here," Charles said when they were by the bed. "Can you stand long enough to lay down, or do I have to take care of you?" The question was both teasing and serious, and for a moment Erik considered letting Charles put him to bed. "I think I can manage." Charles waited until Erik was sitting before he moved to one of the many drawers that lined the walls. He returned a few moments later with gauze, a fresh cathader, and alcohol. "Give me your arm," he said, placing the items on the tray by the bed. Erik watched him for a moment, considering his options, which were minimal. He could willingly allow Charles to look after him, or he could take care of himself. He knew that if he wanted to, he could simply make all the needles in the room melt into globs of metal, effectively keeping Charles from tending him. Then again, when would he really get this chance again? "I know what you're thinking." Charles said as he poured the alcohol onto a sponge, " And henry will draw and quarter you if you do anything to his equipment." Erik was furious, "Stay out of my mind, Charles." The words came out in a deadly whisper. What he wasn't prepared for was the laughter that greeted his threat. "Erik, I want reading your mind. I know you, remember?" Erik relaxed and let Charles look at the IV, removing the old needle, cleaning the wound. He cursed when Charles made a new incision. "Sie sind, der zu stoB das verdammte Ding durch meinen Arm versut!" " I highly doubt I could shove something so small through your arm, Erik," he said calmly, removing the cathader and inserting the smaller drip. "Though your language is…colorful." Erik could hear the laughter behind the words. " Gehen Sie verdammt sich," he muttered. Charles looked up then, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Are you forgetting that I'm fluent in German, my friend?" Sighing, Erik switched languages, his free hand caressing Charles's cheek "Sabe Im moribundo a sentir-se-o embaxio de mim?" He smiled when Charles froze, his face flushed. He could feel his pulse dancing beneath his skin. `Finally managed to surprise you, did I?' he thought, letting his hands cup Charles's face. For the barest of moments, Charles turned into that touch, sparking longings that he had thought, and sometimes prayed, were buried beneath the layers of time. Pulling away, he finished taping the IV in place then moved away, trying to put at least a little distance between them. "Be that as it may, Erik," he said, busily putting away the gauze, "You are in no condition to be exciting yourself in such a manner-" "Myself or you?" "Do you really want to open this door right now?" Charles asked, trying to find a way out. "Absolutely." What might have been said was lost, as the Medlab doors opened and Hank came into the room, carrying a tray laden with food. "I'm glad to see that you are up, Erik," he said, setting the tray on the bedside table, "It would be a shame for the food to…get… cold…" It took a moment for Hank to take in the scene that was before him. Both the professor and Erik were flushed, the distance between them snapping with tension. He took in the stained robe and dressings with apprehension. "I take it you decided to disregard my warnings and walk on your own?" Hank expected a sharp retort, an " I am the Master of Magnetism and I don't need anyone" speech. He was shocked when a guilty flush stained the silver-haired mans face. "Erik was simply trying out his legs, Hank, when he stumbled into me. The IV pulled out, and I replaced it." The short narrative had holes in it, and Hank latched onto them with the precision of a scientist. "Anything else that I should be aware of?" Again, he was shocked when a dull red began to seep through Xavier's skin, "Nothing that needs discussing at the moment. Please eat, Erik," Charles said, returning his attention to their patient, "I'll be back later to speak with you." A hasty retreat if I've even seen one, Hank thought as he moved to his desk. He idly watched a small fly buzz out the open door, trying to find freedom. "What I would have given to be you five minutes ago," he whispered before engrossing himself in his work. Charles thought on the conversation when he finished bathing, pulling on a sweater and trousers. " Do you know Im dying to feel you beneath me?" Those words kept playing back and forth in his mind. He knew Portuguese, though it had been years since he had any reason to use it, and the words had scalded him. Briefly he let himself remembered what it had been like between them, the heat, the pleasure. Shaking his head, he shoved the memories into the back of his mind. He didn't need rampant erotic thoughts clogging his mind, especially with both Elizabeth and Jean home. Not to mention Remy. "You want to play dirty, Erik," he said to the room, a smile on his face, "Fine, I can play dirty as well." And oh, how he would enjoy it. "Sleep well?" Charles looked up from his morning paper and saw Jubilee leaning against the kitchen counter, a steaming mug in her hand. This had been the moment he was waiting for. He knew she and Logan had talked. Everyone within earshot had learned that. If the yelling hadnt been heard, the explosion that followed and shattered her windows had. "Yes," Charles answered, keeping his voice neutral. A stray thought passed from her, of him tossing and turning over his conscious. "And you?" Jubilee approached the table, banging her mug on the table. " Why is he here?" `Much better,' Charles thought, folding the paper and folding his hands over it. Jubilee was never one for hedging a subject. "He's dying, and this is where he wanted to spend his last days." "So he can just walk on in the door and take up shop?" the words were cold, "After what he did to Wolvie? What you did to him? After all the shit he's put everyone in this house through?" " I can understand your unease at having him here, Jubilee," Charles began, "But the fact remains that he is here, and will remain- " "Don't we mean anything to you!" Jubilee was standing now, leaning over the table, " All he has to say is `Im sorry', and you forgive him. He's turned on you before, and I guarantee you that motherfucker will do it again. It's all he ever does. I read the file, about what happened in Haifa. Do you think he can change after all these years? The man's a psycho! You said so yourself! And now, because you feel some kind of twisted guilt, everything's okay?" "Jubilation." The quiet words were enough to let her register several different facts. She was standing, shouting at the professor, her face only a few inches from his. That wasn't what disturbed her. What disturbed her was the look on the professor's face. Very few times had she actually seen him angry. The last time had been when he and Moira argued over what to do with Illyenna when she was dying. The look on his face was nothing compared to that. She had seen Logan angry, had been there when he was in the throws of one of his rages. That anger had been something she could identify with, because it matched her own. This was something totally different. Ice. It was the one thing that came to mind when she looked in his eyes. They were cold, the anger behind them palpable. Shivering slightly under his glare, she sat, her anger gone. "As I was saying," Charles continued, his voice controlled, " Erik is here, and here he will remain until such time as he no longer wishes to. I am not keeping him here, nor is he here to cause a conflict, though I know that that is inevitable. He is dying, Jubilee." Charles paused before continuing. "I have never in my life turned anyone away from this place, no matter what their crimes. Warren was the Angel of Death for Apocalypse, he killed hundreds of thousands of people. Logan can't remember his past, but what he does know is dripped in blood. Jean was the shell for the Phoenix force, and I know you are will versed in that particular history." He paused again, letting his words sink in. " He will remain here until he decides to leave, and I apologize if you cannot accept that fact." His point delivered, he simply sat back and waited for her response. Jubilee nodded once, her head downcast, but he could feel the anger pouring off her, more for being treated like a recalcitrant child than for what she'd been told. Standing, she left the room without a backwards glance, though she did slam the double doors hard enough to shake the shelves. Charles sighed and stared at his newspaper. Sometimes, no matter how hard he tried, he simply couldn't win. Jean knew something was wrong, had known so ever since she came down at the professor's behest to check on Magneto and tell him the professor wouldn't be able to see him until later. She had been cool, he incensed, and Hank simply looked on in detached amusement. " What in the hell is going on?" she murmured to herself as she approached the professor's study. She knew he had finally talked with Jubilee. The girl had run to her room, screaming about how she was tired of being treated like `a red haired stepchild.' Charles had been cold and removed when she asked him about it, then relaxed when she asked if there was anything he wanted. "Definitely the last time I try to be helpful," she murmured, knocking on the door to the professor's study. // I take it he didn't like what you had to say?// Charles sent as Jean took a seat across from him. "Despite the fact that he yelled at me in two different languages, I don't think so." Jean bristled when she saw a faint smile tugging on the edges of the mans lips. Unable to help herself, she sent a light telepathic nudge to the ribs. "Temper, Jean," Charles said, unfazed by her display of angst. "I apologize for sending you to take care of that particular errand, but I didn't want to launch into a full blown argument with Erik as of yet." One slim red eyebrow arched at that, "Waiting until he regains his strength?" Charles raised an eyebrow in concert with hers. "It is the only time its truly worth it." That was not the answer she was expecting. Over the past two weeks she, as well as the others, had noticed changes in the professor's behavior. Usually stern, the found their sometimes harsh taskmaster actually being playful, if not high spirited. No one doubted that the change was caused by Magneto's residence, though no one could really understand why. "We all have our little personality quirks, Jean," Charles said, picking up on her thoughts. "It just so happens that Erik tends to bring out mine simply by being in the general vicinity." Jean didn't answer. She and Hank had had a long discussion about the scene he discovered when he delivered breakfast earlier that morning. Neither had come to a conclusion, except that they were as confused than they had been in the beginning. //Charles!?!// The mental message was delivered with all the grace of a sledgehammer, making him wince and lift a hand to his forehead. "Charles, are you alright?" Jean's concerned question cleared the fog that had entered his mind. "Yes Jean. It seems Erik isn't happy with the present state of affairs." //Damn it, man, you don't have to shout!// //I would like to speak with you. NOW.// Charles sighed. It was apparent that Erik wasn't going to let their meeting be delayed longer than he thought necessary. " It seems that Erik would like to speak with me. Immediately." Jean watched in amazement as the professor maneuvered his hover chair around his desk and headed for the door. She knew him, knew that he didn't jump when someone told him to. It was a lesson that several nations and learned over the years when dealing with the foremost advocate of mutant rights. Now she watched that same man leave a conversation, simply because their houseguest has asked him to. `Demanded', she corrected, if the mental echo she had picked up on was any indication. She stored this event in her mind to be discussed later, when the group went to Harry's for their usual late night meeting. The more she thought about it, the less the two looked like friends, and more like a long married couple. Erik was furious, though he did an excellent job of hiding it when he thought it necessary. His conversation with Jean thirty minutes ago not withstanding. He couldn't believe that Charles would send one of his students to tell him something when he could easily have done so himself, either in person or telepathically. That meant that either he didn't feel that Erik was worth the time and effort, or he was trying to push one of the mans several buttons. As an aggravation, it had succeeded. "I would implore you to calm down, Erik," Hank said as he watched the heart monitor escalate. " It is detrimental to your health to be in a constant state of displeasure." "He was born that way, Henry. Or haven't you noticed." If the words surprised Hank, the source of them was even more startling. "Professor." " I didn't come here to be locked in the basement like some form of pest, Charles," Erik said. " I hate being in this room, a fact you are well aware of." Charles smiled in spite of himself. The man was truly handsome when he was angry. " I'm sorry. Considering the fact that for the past two weeks you haven't been in the best of health I assumed you want to be in a place where you could receive medical attention." That smile, more than anything only angered Erik further, " Don't you dare attempt to make this into some sort of practical joke-" "I was doing nothing of the sort." "I want out of here, Xavier, and I don't care if-" "Children! Please!" Hanks outburst was enough to silence both men, each flushing, though Xavier more with amusement than anger. "If you would like to use one of the guest quarters, Erik, then you may. You should have known you didn't need to ask my permission." Before he could reply he felt it. A slight telepathic touch, as if all his erotic centers were being stimulated at the same time. He felt his mouth go dry at the image that teased his mind. The two of them, straining against each other, candles reflecting light off their glistening bodies. It was real enough for him to feel the heat that surrounded them. "That was a low blow, Charles." Erik whispered, trying to control himself. It would serve the man right if he threw all caution and discreetness to the wind, hauled off, and kissed Charles in front of Hank. Charles, on the other hand, wasn't backing down, "Or maybe it was one that, finally, was right on target." `You want to play it that way,eh?' Erik thought, focusing. `Fine, I can as well.' The touch was delicate, but the effect was immediate. Charles felt as if someone had turned all his pleasure centers on full blast. Even the soft air currents of the room seemed to tease his overheated skin. As quickly as the telepathic image had entered Erik's mind, it was gone, replaced with a grudging emptiness. In response, Erik stopped teasing the electromagnetic energy of Charles's nervous system. "When," Xavier began, his voice husky, "Did you learn that particular trick?" In response Erik only winked. //Would you like to see what else I can do?// //In time.// A discreet cough alerted the two to the third presence in the room. Charles cast a rueful grin. He had completely forgotten Hanks presence in the middle of the argument. " Though I assure you I find this altercation fascinating," he began, " I would suggest that Magnus spend at least another three days in the Medlab for further observation..." "Do you agree to that?" Charles asked. "No." "Then its settled." Charles held up a hand, stopping Hank from protesting. "Hank, he is too stubborn to listen to reason. I assume full responsibility for anything that occurs outside the Medlab. And you," he concluded, sending a pointed look in Eriks direction, "Will come at Hanks beck and call for any checkups or other medical procedures that he might deem necessary." "As you wish, Charles." "Shall we?" Henry watched in stark disbelief as the two made their way out of the Medlab. He had seen many things in his life. He'd fought sentinels, demons, mutants, and other creatures whose powers had defied explanation and description. But they took a pale second to what he had just witnessed. "By the pricking of my thumbs," he mused, letting his mind turn over this latest conundrum, "Something wicked this way comes." "Now that we have given Henry enough gossip for their weekly meeting at Harry's, let us discuss this latest problem." Erik watched incredulously as Charles led the way to his bedroom. He assumed that he would be placed in one of the more deserted wings of the mansion. "Do you intend to share your room with me, Charles?" "Tempting. But no." He moved past his door, to another two rooms away. " This is one of the better guest rooms. I hope you approve." Erik looked around the spacious apartment. Charles certainly hadn't lost his taste. The room was decorated in dark blues, the furniture dark and solid. The king size bed that dominated one corner caught his eye. It was the same one that Charles had used in his fantasy, complete with the dark blue drapes. "Why do I feel as if I'm being set up?" "Perhaps because you are?" Erik felt Charles lift his hand, felt the slightest breath of air as he kissed the palm, his tongue gingerly playing across the sensitive flesh for the briefest of moments. Erik was silent as he felt the mouth explore his hand, the lips moving feather-light across it. It let out a soft moan, however, when Charles bit the pad of flesh below his thumb. It had been so long since he had felt this way, since he had last allowed himself to drift in a warm blanket of pleasure. The feeling to simply give in was almost too strong for him to fight. Almost. "Charles, are you sure about this?" he asked, kneeling down until his face was level with the others. Charles felt ecstatic. He remembered everything. The salt of his skin, the small sounds he made. Everything. And he wanted it again, consequences be damned. "You wanted to open this door, Erik," he said, his voice low and filled with longing, as he heard the door close behind them. "Remember?" Erik smiled then, a brilliant one that seemed to erase the years from his soul. At that moment he was back with his love, and nothing mattered to him. " Are you sure I'm up to this?" he teased, moving closer. Gently, he tapped out light kisses on the corners of Charles' mouth, then let his tongue tease the seam between his lips. "After all, I am in no condition for this kind of strenuous activity." "Hmmm?" Charles was lost, willingly, in the onslaught of sensation. Everything was so new, yet so familiar. It took a moment for his mind to filter out what Erik had just said. " I think we can keep the exertions to a minimum until your…stamina… is at its usual levels." Erik grinned when he felt hands gently brush through his hair, the sensation tempered with just enough pain to be unbelievably erotic. Then the kiss he started was out of his hands. What had begun as something light and teasing continued, though he was no longer leading. //I'd forgotten what a good kisser you were,// he thought as he felt Xaviers lips on his own, now almost too light to be felt. Impatient, he leaned into it, and Charles pulled away, keeping the touch light. //Then perhaps I should remind you,// Erik gasped as teeth gently latched onto his lower lip, pulling slightly. His hand clutched at Xavier's forearms as it was sucked into a warm mouth. Then the kiss was deeper, all pretense at teasing gone. Erik didn't fight it, didn't do anything as he felt himself pulled deeper and deeper into a fantasy of his own designing. Yep folks, that's where it ends for now!!! I know you hate me, but please, be gentle. Part five will be up tomorrow, so don't despair!! Apocl158=D To unsubscribe from this group, send an email to: XavierMagnetoSlash-unsubscribe@egroups.com -------------------------- eGroups Sponsor -------------------------~-~> eGroups eLerts It's Easy. It's Fun. Best of All, it's Free! http://click.egroups.com/1/9698/0/_/_/_/974695781/ ---------------------------------------------------------------------_-> Title: Tempting Fate 5/5 Pairing: Xavier/Magneto Fandom: you know that one, right? Disclaimer: The Charaters in this piece are not mine. All are the property of Marvel INC. No money is being made off of this so please don't sure me. I like them, and I'll put tham back when Im done playing, though they might not want me to. =D Here it is, the next chapter. //Charles?// `Of all the times to want to talk…' Grudgingly, Charles removed his mouth from Erik's neck, where it had been in the process of giving the other man a serious hickey. //Yes, Betsy?// //The meeting?// the voice sounded slightly smug. //I can understand that you and Magneto are engaged in a more interesting topic than we would be at the moment, but I think you should get down here before Jubilee blows up the ready room.// Charles received a vivid image of Jubilee and Logan fighting, each red with anger, Logan rubbing the backs of his hands. //I'm on my way.// "Eirk?" Charles gingerly halted the hands that were roaming over his back and shoulders. "I have to go." "Running already?" The question came out husky, with barely masked hurt behind it. Charles smiled, cupping Eriks cheek and letting his thumb glide over swollen lips, " Believe me, this is far from over." `Breath, Charles,' the professor repeated to himself as he headed for the ready room. `It was just a kiss, that is all. Erik is more than likely sitting in his room at the moment regretting ever letting it take place.' If that was the case, Xavier mused as the doors to the ready room swung open, Then why do I feel like I'm floating on Cloud Nine? All thoughts of what he would do when he and Erik finally finished their conversation were ended when he took in the scene in the ready room. Logan stood, the smile on his face bemused to the extreme, while across from him Bobby was holding a rather irate Jubilee, who was at the moment trying her best to kick Logan, who stood just outside her range. //Welcome to the madhouse, Charles.// Storms voice cut through the confusion of the room, making him smile. //When has this place not been a madhouse?// he asked in return, the smile deepening when Orroro actually appeared to be considering the question. "Professor." The word, spoken by a rather winded Scott, was enough to freeze the tableau before him. Jubilee was frozen, legs in midswing while she dangled in the air, Bobby turning to look at the professor with a tortured grin on his face. The team had split between the two, each one frozen in a pose that bordered on comical. So much so that Charles couldn't help but laugh. "I believe I have come upon the proverbial `Kodak moment'", he managed to squeeze out between laughs. Bobby, embarrassed, dropped Jubilee, who landed on her feet, rubbing her arms. Charles sighed when he caught the daggers she was casting his way with her eyes. The definitely sobered him. " I believe I asked you here to discuss the current state of our guest," Charles began. " Erik is able to leave the infirmary, and I have given permission for him to do so." That announcement was met with mental whispers of opposition. " He is to have free rein throughout the house and grounds for the duration of his stay. Before you ask, yes he will be given the rundown on refrigerator rights, though I doubt he will be using it much." "Is there anything in particular that we need to be aware of, Charles?" `Scott, you are a lifesaver,' Charles thought. "Yes. Erik is situated in the guestroom two doors down from mine, so please do not panic when he is walking the halls at night, as that is one of his habits when he cant sleep. Oh, yes, he is not to use the danger room or weight room unless he has someone with him. And that has no exceptions, no matter what he might say." Charles watched as his children nodded in agreement. `They'll more than likely all try to get their licks in through a danger room `exercise' before this adventure is over.' He thought, noticing the looks passed between several of them. "If that is all, professor, there is a drill scheduled in twenty minutes," Scott announced, rising from an easy chair. "I expect everyone to be dressed and ready in fifteen." "All hail the slave driver," Bobby mumbled as he left. Erik concentrated, feeling for the parcels that he had left near the grounds. Locating them, he lifted the two large suitcases and began pulling them to him. In moments the metal spheres were in his room, the seemingly seamless orbs splitting to reveal his clothes. `Always keep your boots on.' It had been one of the last pieces of advice his father had given him. When they were being marched to Auschwitz it had been summer, though his father insisted he put on his heavy coat and snow boots. Those same clothes, which had made him nearly pass out several times, had saved his life in the long march that followed. As a result, Erik always packed those things that were necessary to life, and those only. One suitcase was filled with clothes: socks, shirts, pants, all neatly folded into compact bundles. In reality the orb held more than it should have been able to, but he had learned over the years to cram necessities into the smallest of spaces. The other case, though just as large, was only half filled with clothing. It held small personal effects: a figurine that Anya had made for him, his wedding ring, and several small metal statues. And food. Erik hated it, hated thinking about times from so long ago, but those years had shaped so much of his life, had shaped him, and some habits didn't die easily. Whenever he traveled he carried a small stash of non perishables, enough to make sure that he wouldn't go hungry, not that he thought Charles would starve him. It was something so basic that he never challenged it, and so small that he had never seen it as a problem. Until the moment he decided to make amends. Shaking his head, Erik willed the orbs to take shape, forming a workable footlocker where he stored his food. That done, he turned to his clothes, sorting and putting away the many items. He briefly considered getting dressed, then changed his mind when he felt the slide of the pajama's he was wearing against his skin. He doubted many of the people who went through the mansions Medlab wore silk pajamas. "Still spoiling me after all that has happened between us, Charles?" he said to the room. Sometimes he wondered at his loves pension for forgiveness. More often than not it had invited the enemy into his home, yet he still kept open arms for any who would embrace him. "Most people would consider you mad, Charles." "Only those who know me." Erik turned at the sound of Charles's voice. " You used to like sneaking up on me." "No," Charles corrected, taking a pair of socks and setting them in a drawer, "I liked making you jump. There is a difference." Erik said nothing, putting away the rest of his clothes. When they were cleared, he sat on the bed, facing Charles. "Do your students know about us?" Charles moved closer, taking both of Erik's hands in his own, "They know all they need to know at the moment, Erik. Give them time to adjust to having you here. Telling them that we were lovers-" "Are lovers." "Are lover," Charles said, accepting the correction, "Might be too much for them to handle at the moment." "You mean you don't want them to know about us." Charles cringed when Erik pulled his hands free. "That is not the case either. The truth is, I'm afraid." That was something that Erik hadn't counted on. Charles had never admitted any weakness, to hear it now was startling. "Afraid?" For a moment Xavier's eyes fogged over, as if he were remembering. "One of the reasons my family pushed me away is because of my sexual orientation, or lack of one, truth be told." He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "After my mother died my grandparents refused to have me in their house. I was a black sheep. Hell, I still have cousins that refuse to acknowledge my existence." "And you are afraid…" Charles Xavier was a calm man. Ever since his childhood, when he realized he could shape the thoughts of others, he had kept his emotions under tight control, lest he inadvertently harm someone with his anger. Now, that control was slipping. "Afraid? Perhaps I should rephrase. I'm terrified. Terrified that they would not understand. That perhaps they cannot understand what I feel. It would definitely make them more hostile towards you, knowing that I love you." Erik absorbed this information, running it alongside what he had already gleaned from Xavier. He would never have imagined that the man could have changed so much from the idealist he had known in Haifa. Over the years he had assumed that Charles hadn't changed at all. Now he was forced to reconsider his summation of him. "But is not Bobby-" "Erik, there is a difference in having a gay teammate and having a bisexual leader. Especially considering the fact that I sent them to fight you on more than one occasion." Erik, however, didn't hear that last sentence. His mind was stuck on three small words, words that he had never dreamed to hear. `I love you' Charles watched as Erik softened both mentally and physically. If he didn't believe it impossible, he would have thought the man was about to melt. //Love me?// Charles let his eyes drift over Erik's face before answering, //I gave up on having you tell me first a long time ago. I believe that now would be as good a time as any.// Erik didn't know what to say. It had been decades since he had spoken those words to someone. Decades filled with too much pain and anger for him to believe in them anymore. He knew that Charles wasn't lying to him, that he perhaps felt that he was in love. But Erik couldn't say those words. Not then, perhaps never. //It's all right, Erik,// Charles said, floating towards the door, //You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to.// "Please tell me this is some kind of twisted nightmare." Scott Summers sat with the rest of his teammates in Harry's, nursing a mug of beer in one hand and his head in the other. "Unfortunately, if it is," Hank said, " I don't see any of us waking from it soon." The X-men were situated in their usual booth, with several chairs pulled up to accommodate their size. None could believe the events that had happened over the past two weeks. " Can someone please explain what's gotten into the professor lately," Rogue asked. "The mans been crazed." "Sorry, Mississippi," Bobby announced, then lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, " Perhaps this is the long hidden playful side of Xavier. You know, the one that Moira always insisted was there?" That brought another groan from the group. All had heard Moira's tales of Charles when he was younger, his sense of humor, and how he had somehow lost it in-between university and Voigt. Jean decided to enter the conversation at this point, "They certainly seem at ease with each other, for two people who have spent the better part of twenty years fighting. In fact, they seem more like married people than friends." Hank perked up at this information, but remained silent. He disliked this open discussion of the professor, though he had no qualms about speaking of Magneto. In the two weeks of the mans residence, he had come to several different conclusions about the exact nature of the relationship between the two, and he doubted anyone else was ready to hear them. "What in the name of God Almighty do ye mean he's stayin' with ye?" The holographic image of Moira practically shook with rage. "What, Moira? Jealous?" Charles couldn't resist the dig. Moira, on the other hand, was far from amused. "Yer lucky that theres a whole bleedin ocean `atween us, mon. If there weren't, Id knock that amused expression off yer face!" Charles reminded himself again why he decided to call Moira and let her know that Erik was staying with him. "Be that as it may, Erik is staying here. I thought you might like to hear it from me before Kurt comes dashing in with the news." "An how in bloody hell did he find out?" "Moira, let me refresh your memory. I live in a house with eleven other people, none of whom are particularly fond of me or my guest at the moment. I wouldn't be surprised if they had formed an offensive in the event that Erik decides to use the bathroom without permission." Moira tried, Charles noted, she truly did, to keep from laughing at the mental image that created. In the end, she lost, her laughter taking away a good part of her anger. "I knew I could make you laugh." After a few moments, though, she became serious. "Are ye sure this is a wise decision, Charles? After what happened the last time? He practically ripped yer heart out." Charles said nothing for a moment, thinking over what she had said. After leaving Erik he had began a constant correspondence with Moira. She knew everything that had happened before and since, something that had helped to keep him sane. "I don't know if it is a wise decision, Moira," He finally answered. "I do know that he wants to be here, and that I want him here." "Fine mon, if that's what you want," then her tone softened, "But if you need me, ye know where I am." "Of course." Then the connection was severed. As Charles moved to his study he thought on the events that were quickly spiraling higher and higher. When Erik first appeared he had no thought of restarting their relationship outside of that as old friends. Now he found himself thinking of ways to break the news to his students with the least amount of damage. "Damn it, Erik," he said to the silent room, "You're turning my life upside down for the second time." 10:22. It was the exact moment he remembered falling asleep. Out of habit he had set the clock for six, so he could be up and ready before the day actually began, considering that it was Friday night. On Saturday's Scott usually let the rest of them rest, canceling training exercises until Monday. With his students out of the house for the first time in two weeks Charles felt he could actually relax. It felt good, with no one hovering a few feet away, watching and waiting for something to go wrong. Even Jubilee, recently turned eighteen, was spending her first night at Harry's as a member of the group. His one request was that she not come home half dead with alcohol poisoning. It was 12:17 when he woke. `Insomnia, Charles,' he thought as he pulled himself into the hover chair, ` You knew it wouldn't let you get a good nights sleep.' Ten minutes, and some choice curse words later, Charles was entering the pool house, towel in hand. Steam fogged the large windows, giving the illusion of privacy, which was exactly what he wanted. Humming to himself, Charles turned the heater on in the hot tub, setting the jets on high. He seldom used it, reserving it for his students, who often needed it after training sessions. He remembered the day he had it installed, Bobby practically jumping up and down on Hank. "And they thought I was a slave driver," he said to the warm air. "Now it appears Scott has taken up the role of taskmaster." Moments later, Charles was floating in the stream of bubbles, his mind drifting as he watched the play of lights on the ceiling. The pool house held only the hot tub, a small pool, and showers, and was perhaps one of the most secluded places on the grounds outside of the woods. Most of his students preferred the Olympic sized swimming pool that dominated the back yard, using the smaller pool only when the weather was too harsh for the heater to do any good against the cold. For the rest of the year, to smaller pool house was almost deserted. A loud splash jerked Xavier from his thoughts. Wiping the water from his eyes he watched the dipping of the displaced water, then smiled when a silver head emerged in the shallows. Erik, seemingly oblivious to his watcher, began doing laps. And Charles watched in rapt fascination. He remembered when they visited a small oasis outside the city, swimming in the lukewarm water, and the sunburn that he'd gotten as a result of it. Then Erik had been playing. Now he was swimming as if his life depended on it, his arms sending him back and forth in the confines of the pool. The pace was driving, almost punishing, and it took a moment for Charles to figure out why. Erik had constantly had nightmares when they were together. He remembered him waking, struggling to get free of the bedclothes as he cursed in German. Sometimes he could calm him before he hurt himself, sometimes all he could do was wait for Erik to realize that he was merely dreaming. He claimed to never remember what he was dreaming about, but whatever it was, they were enough to keep him away for the remainder of the night. Once, Erik had gone out running, and hadn't returned for several hours. When he finally came back to the small apartment they shared he had been exhausted. Too exhausted to dream //Erik?// Charles sent, the thought soothing and unobtrusive, //Are you all right?// Erik's head whipped around, his hair a gleaming halo around his face. //Fine, Charles. It was just a bad dream.// With that, Erik swam towards the pool's edge, pulling himself out of the water. Xavier watched, taking mental still frames of the man as he walked towards the jacuzzi. In his two weeks of treatment, Erik had begun to gain weight again, filling out so that little remained of the fragile man who had appeared. Wearing nothing but water and swim trunks, he looked magnificent. `Down boy,' Charles told himself when Erik slipped into the water beside him, sighing as the warmth replaced the cold of the pool. `The last thing he wants right now is you jumping him.' He and Erik watched each other for a moment, blue eyes linking with blue in a comfortable silence. Then Charles was being kissed soundly, so soundly that for long moments he did nothing but respond to the lips that were chasing his. When he finally came to himself he was crowded against the seat of the tub, Erik standing between his splayed legs. //Erik, this is not a good place for-// //Shhh,// Erik sent, gentling his kisses until they were soft brushes, // Don't worry about it. No one could get in here unless they tore the place down.// Charles made another desperate plea, //That is what I'm afraid of, Erik. Do you have any idea what they would think if-// The thought was interrupted when he felt Erik's hands settle around his waist, moving forward to close the small distance between them. //Still considering ending this?// The question was smug, but was coupled with a twist of Erik's hips into his own that kept Charles from registering anything but the words. The only answer Erik received was Xavier's hands twisting themselves in his hair and pulling him forward for another kiss. Charles was elated. The nagging thought that Erik was regretting their previous kiss had plagued him throughout the day, despite their verbal sparring afterwards. He felt cold when Erik suddenly pulled away, his ice blue eyes melting with passion. //If you even think about stopping, Erik…// Erik only smiled at the veiled threat, then slid forward to tease one of Xavier's nipples. Charles was barely able to think of the implications of what they were doing. Both were old enough to be grandparents, though their bodies belied that fact, and they were making out like teenagers in a jacuzzi, where anyone could walk by and see them through the glass. And they were loving every second of it. "God, Erik," the words came out as little more than a whisper when Erik moved to his other nipple, his tongue teasing light circles around it before taking the flesh into his mouth. Then Erik cupped him. Charles's eyes flew open at the raw sensation that was pouring through him. Mindless, he pulled Erik up, kissing him with a passion that he couldn't contain, while Erik continued a gentle pressure against him. Desperately he wished they were at the house, that they could slow down, but both were wishful thinking. He felt himself about to climax as the pressure increased, then decreased, then increased again, keeping him on the edge, pushing him forward just enough, then pulling him back. Lost, Charles reached out with his mind, linking with Erik. New sensations flooded him. How his hands felt as the ran over Erik's back, the feel of his tongue. They ran together, melded, until he couldn't tell where he ended and Erik began. Erik was stunned at the pure emotion that entered his mind when Charles linked them. It was overwhelming, adding to his own pleasure until he was riding the wave with Charles, his motions teasing himself in the process. He felt Charles's desperation, his need, and matched it, unable to do anything else. Their release, when it came, was blinding in its intensity, tossing them on its waves until neither could tell themselves apart from the other. "Was that planned?" Erik heard the soft question spoken against his neck as he floated down from what he could only consider the most mind-blowing orgasm of his life. Reality slowly began intruding on the end of that voice. He and Charles were leaning against the wall of the jacuzzi, arms wrapped around each other as the warm water swirled around them. He felt relaxed, drained, and content. This was what he had been missing for so many years, this closeness, this sense of love that poured from Charles in waves through their link. "If I say yes, will it change how you feel about me?" He felt teeth tease the skin of his neck, not hard enough to break the skin, just enough to let him feel pain. "No. But I'll wonder why you didn't do this sooner." Charles lifted his head, surprised that he had the strength to do so after the most mind-bending climax he had ever experienced. He had lost himself in Erik, something that had never happened before, even though he usually melded with his partners. He had always kept a barrier between them, but this time it hadn't held, and he had drowned in the other man. It had been frightening into the extreme. And he wanted to do it again. "Are you trying to kill me, Charles?" Erik asked as he picked up on his thoughts. "I don't think I could stand, let alone attempt another performance like that." Charles didn't answer. He simply let himself drift in the space between them. Erik's mind had always had a soothing quality to it, for all its mayhem. Erik felt a hand tracing small circles on his back, and wondered for a moment if it was him or Charles. " I think we should separate now," he whispered. `No!' the thought was immediate, and Charles almost said it out loud. But Erik was right, they needed some distance between them, no matter how grudgingly it was given. Erik felt the withdrawal from his mind, hating the emptiness that seemed to fill the spare Charles had occupied. Gently, he disentangled his limbs from Charles, leaving caresses in his wake. For a moment he simply looked at him, taking in the swollen mouth, the sleepy eyes, the flushed skin, and saw Charles doing the same to him, memorizing this moment in the event it never happened again. //What do we do now?// Erik asked, settling onto the ledge next to Charles, leaning into his warmth. //I don't know, Erik,// Charles answered, doing to quick sweep of the grounds. Aside from a small cat that Bobby insisted on feeding, there was no one near. //I think it would be best if we slowed down.// He was surprised when he felt Erik nod his head. He had expected an argument, at least a harsh word. This easy acceptance was unexpected. Erik felt Xavier's confusion, and lifted his head so he could look him in the eye. //You've already lost one family because of this, Charles,// he sent, //I don't want you to loose another because of me.// There it is!!!!!! Don't worry, its not done. Riders on the Storm is next! I'll try to have it up sometime before thanksgiving, so you can have something to distract you from cooking the turkey!!! Love and other sutff, Apocl158 To unsubscribe from this group, send an email to: XavierMagnetoSlash-unsubscribe@egroups.com