xmen_firstkink

Ok, so not technically inspired by Friends per se, but Monica and Chandler's relationship (at least the beginning of it). I love to see an AU (modern? no powers? up to anon) where Raven is getting married (Hank? Azazel? Destiny?) and a relative mistakes Charles as Raven's father. Charles laughs this off with everyone, but freaks out in private.

Erik finds him while he's freaking out and with low self-esteem, and tells him he sees Charles as a beautiful, intelligent, self-assured man who could have anyone. With the help of the open bar at the wedding, they end up in bed together.

It was supposed to be a one-night thing. They're friends. But then it turned into a two-night thing. Maybe they joined the mile-high club (if the location of the wedding required air travel). Before they know it, they're back home and having sex all the time and hiding it from their friends, because, well. They don't need the drama influencing the dynamics of their friend group. It's just a fling, a bit of fun. Isn't it?

Please someone fill this. I'm ill at home today and fluffy rom-com Charles/Erik would make me feel so much better!

I'd love to read this!

I'm sorry you're not feeling well, OP. I don't feel so good, also. I just do not want to work. So I'm staying home and writing a fill for this. I haven't written any rom-com, though!

Other writers, please let's fill this prompt!

A/N: I borrowed the title from The Kills’ “Sour Cherry.” I hope you get well soon, OP!

Warnings: Intoxication. Fears of growing old alone. Sentimentality. Vanity.

Author’s inability to write something funny.

Also, this needs to be Brit-picked and betaed.



Of course Charles has to be the one to give Raven away.

He looks on as Angel and Emma carefully drape a long veil over Raven’s head to complete her preparations for the wedding. He’s trying not to cry. Raven has never appeared more radiant or happy than she is now, laughing as the ladies argue over how best to put on the veil without messing up her hair.

She is a woman now, Charles can see that. Azazel just might be knocked over when he sees her walk down the aisle in her strapless Vivienne Westwood wedding gown.

Oh, no. He can feel tears pooling in his eyes! Charles, calm your mind, for fuck’s sake, he scolds himself.

He checks the time to distract himself. It’s time. In about five minutes, he’ll hand her over to Azazel. After that, legally, Azazel will be the most important man in his baby sister’s life.

“Are you ready?” he says with forced cheerfulness. He’ll be damned before he betrays how he’s struggling not to bawl his eyes out.

Raven answers him, voice full of enthusiasm and joy, with “Let’s find out.”


* * *


As Azazel takes Raven’s hand at the altar, Charles’s throat closes up and he feels his eyes burn of impending tears. He is pulled to the side by a pair of strong hands.

“Don’t you dare lose it, Xavier,” Erik warns him softly before shoving a white handkerchief to his face.

Charles grabs the handkerchief and blows his nose with as much subtlety as he can manage. He then takes a deep breath and says, “Thank you, my friend.”

A warm hand grips his shoulder, assuring him.

They both turn their gazes to the couple who are exchanging their marital vows.


* * *

“That was such a lovely wedding,” remarks a woman after requesting the bartender to give her a Perrier and a glass with ice and a slice of lemon. “Don’t you think?” she asks Charles who is sitting alone by the bar with a flute of champagne in his hand.

“Yes, certainly. But it was not quite as lovely as the bride,” answers Charles with a smile.

“Oh, I agree with you, Mister ---?”

“Xavier. Charles Xavier. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Charles says as he stands up and offers his hand.

“I’m Vera, Azazel’s second cousin. I did not know Raven’s uncle is such a handsome man,” she tells him as she shakes his hand.

“I’m not---” but then Charles decides not to correct her. His hair is graying at the temples and it is not as thick as it used to be. “Thank you” he says instead and then politely excuses himself.


* * *


“Another one bites the dust,” quips Erik as they watch Raven and Azazel dance.


“Hmmm?” he asks Erik as he takes another sip of wine. The party is in full swing and they are on to their third bottle of champagne. This is the best time to get his mother’s fine collection out of their musty cellar, Charles thinks merrily.

“I said --” Erik turns to him, exasperated “—another one bites the dust. One day, I might wake up to a world where everyone else is married, Charles.”

“What?”

“Last month, it was Remy agreeing to the old ball and chain because of Anna Marie. Today, it’s Azazel. Before we know it, I’d be the only one to show up for our Friday meet-up at Hellfire because of babies or some domestic thing or other,” says Erik, sounding horrified.

“I’d show up. Your friend, the ‘old maid,’ will be the last man standing” he laughs a little bitterly. “We should have a little fund set up. The last person in our circle to remain single gets it.”

“As if you need the money,” remarks Erik before he grabs the bottle from Charles’s hand to replenish his glass.

“Ouch! So you do think I’d be alone forever,” pouts Charles. Maybe he really should face the fact that it’s been a decade since his heydays at the bars around Oxford. Charles Xavier. Thirty-five going on sixty-five.

“What is this? Are you drunk already after a few glasses of champagne? You are getting old,” chided Erik.

“I’m serious. And I might need that money for Botox,” argues Charles. “I already look like Raven’s uncle!”

“You’re smashed, definitely. Botox? Can you hear yourself?” Erik throws his head back and laughs – at him!

Charles raises his right eyebrow, gazes at Erik sharply and says, in his most snooty accent, “It’s not funny.” Then he heads straight to bar and leaves Erik alone at their table.

* * *

Ooh, I like where this is going! *thumbs up*

OP HERE AND OP FLAILING because YAY you're writing this! I love the beginning - Erik and Charles' banter is lovely, and I just want to hug Charles. I can't wait to see more! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!

OP, I am so glad you like this so far. :D

this is great!!! please keep writing:D

“It’s been half an hour, Charles. You should have made your way back to our table ten minutes ago,” Erik whispers from behind him.

Charles huffs. He ignores Erik. Upon catching the eye of the bartender, he asks for a refill. “Double, my good man.”

He finishes his refill in two gulps. The burn of the fine liquor down his throat distracts him from the melancholia that has taken a hold of him the entire day. He gestures for more.

“Mineral water, please,” he hears Erik say before he feels his glass being pulled from his hand. “You are going to drink water and then we will go back to our table. No more whisky for you.”

“No.”

“Charles, come on,” Erik urges him once the bartender hands him the bottled water.

“No. You go party, mingle. Do whatever pleases you, Erik. But do be kind enough to leave me alone,” he says as he tries to get the bartender’s attention.

“I’ll have the same,” Erik tells the bartender while Charles’s glass is being filled.

“You don’t have to stay here, my friend,” Charles mutters as he stares at the bottom of his glass.

“I have no other choice. Leaving you here to drown your sorrows in expensive Scotch by yourself is not an option,” replies Erik dryly.

His eyes meet Erik’s. Then they burst out laughing together.

“Why are you being so emo today, you old fart?” Erik asks as he pokes Charles’s torso with his elbow.

“That’s exactly why, my friend. I have realized that I am now truly an old fart,” answers Charles with a frown.

“Old fart. Raven’s uncle. I am trying to avoid having a ‘girl talk’ here but seriously, the furrow between your eyebrows is a party pooper. Tell me what I did wrong so I can feel guilty and then we can finally start to party,” Erik urges him before signaling the bartender for another drink.

Charles sighs. “Fine. Azazel’s relative mistook me for Raven’s uncle. And I didn’t disabuse her of her notion because I realized that I can hardly blame her for making that assumption. I am old. I feel old… and tired. And Raven’s marriage has made me face the fact that I miss being with someone.”

He then shushes Erik by placing his hand over Erik’s mouth. “If you give me a sarcastic come-back after have shared such mortifying thoughts, I will kill you,” he warns Erik sharply.

Erik rolls his eyes and then says something. The sound is muffled by Charles’s hand. When Charles has become aware of how soft Erik’s lips feel against his palm, he retracts his hand.

“I said, you’re just tired, Charles. You’ve been so busy with your new projects plus your teaching load is heavier this semester, right?”

Charles nods.

“See? You just need a vacation,” says Erik. “We can go to the beach. Or anywhere you want. I’m due for some time off myself.”

“A beach resort? I don’t think so, my friend. I won’t be able to compete against all those young lads with ridiculous abs,” Charles retorts.

“Hey, wait. The purpose is for you to get some rest. And you love the beach. And those young lads love to compete against each other over you. At least, that’s what I remember the last time we went to Havana,” teases Erik.

“Haha,” replies Charles, voice flat. “Your memory has been addled. That was years ago. And it was you they were fighting over. You even abandoned me when you decided to go island-hopping with your Latin lover. What was his name? Janos?”

“You never forgave me for that, huh? I told you it was work-related. I checked possible locations of a private port. We had just started a nickel mining project in Cuba at that time,” explains Erik.

“I think you still sound too defensive for it to have been only about work,” contends Charles. He averts his gaze to get more Scotch. He does not like talking about that trip. He and Erik had a stupid argument during that trip that made them avoid each other for months.

“Now I regret suggesting a beach vacation” says Erik but he sounds irritated instead. “I just want you to stop pouting. You are not an old fart even though you sound like one most of the time. You still have your mojo, Charles. I hope you won’t lose sleep over some inane comment.”

“Well, I apologize for venting. I wish I had known that you’d just dismiss my concerns after pestering me to share them with you so that I could have spared both of us such a big waste of time,” says Charles before he stands up and leaves.

* * *

Charles wants to ignore the knocking on his door. He does not want to get up from his bed. He has the remote control and the contents of the mini bar with him. Life is great… until that he hears the persistent knocking.

“Alright, I’m coming,” he says as he puts on his robe.

He opens the door.
“Erik.”

“Before you shut me out for the third time, Charles, I just wanted to finish what I was going to say at the bar,” Erik says with a glare.

“Fine,” replies Charles. He crosses his arms and deliberately refrains from inviting Erik to enter his hotel room.

“I don’t understand why you put so much stock on a stranger’s words but you won’t believe anything I say. You have nothing to worry about, Charles. In fact, I think you’ve never been more attractive. And in order to prevent you from dismissing my words again, I’d just show you how attractive I think you are,” declares Erik before claiming Charles’s lips.



---

A/N: I know Erik's comment about girl talk is so sexist. I'm sorry.

<3<3<3<3 LOVE THIS STORY!!! \o/
that's not sexistic yet, don't worry:)
... not for me anyway xD

Thanks for taking the time to comment, dearie. :)

Warnings: Intoxication, dubcon.

“No, Erik,” Charles protests as soon as he frees his lips from Erik’s. His heart is beating rapidly. “This isn’t right. And I don’t need a pity fuck,” he says furiously.

“Does this feel like pity to you?” asks Erik angrily as he thrusts his erection against Charles’s hip.

“How crude of you,” he says primly, with disdain and disappointment. He pushes Erik and turns away.

“But you like crude, if I recall correctly,” Erik argues, voice husky. He grabs Charles’s wrist, pulls Charles against him and kisses Charles’s nape.

Is Erik referring to Logan? Charles wanted to feel anger but when Erik nips the skin connecting his nape and shoulder, all he could do is moan.

“You want this, Charles. Admit it,” urges Erik. He’s biting, licking his ear while unbuttoning his tuxedo.

“Say it,” insists Erik. He turns Charles to face him and pulls the tuxedo and undershirt off of him completely.

“Tell me you want this,” murmurs Erik as he thrusts his hips against his erection. “See? Your cock is speaking for you, Charles. Answer me. It’s at the tip of your tongue,” says Erik before coaxing his lips open with his wet, hot tongue.

Charles notes that Erik is a very good kisser. His taste is as intoxicating as the Scotch they were drinking earlier that night. He wraps his arms around Erik’s neck and stands on his toes to deepen the kiss.

He feels Erik’s hands on his ass, pulling him up, and closer. He holds Erik’s broad shoulders to hoist his body up and wrap his legs around Erik’s waist.

Erik groans and bites his lower lip before sucking it hungrily. Charles retaliates by pinching Erik’s nipple over his shirt. They keep at it, competing for the upper hand, taking liberties reserved for long-time lovers.

Charles is so aroused. He grinds his hips against Erik’s, harder, faster, riding him. He’s so lost in the sensations assaulting him that he does not realize that Erik has carried him to the bedroom until he feels the bed under him.

“Erik!” he protests as he tries to drag him down the bed with him.

“Shhh,” Erik says soothingly. “I’ll take care of you, Charles.” He unfastens his belt and unzips his trousers.

“Erik,” he moans when he feels Erik’s lips on the wet, swollen head of his cock.

Bloody cliffhanger ;_;

More, please!

My ovaries beg for more please.

THIS NEEDS TO BE UPDATED FAST. BLUE BALLS WARNING RIGHT HERE. haha.