Shut Up Sean It's A Surprise

*For the ask box prompt on Tumblr for a wedding cake and the First Class crew.*

Erik had taken to calling the combination of Alex, Raven, Sean, Hank, and Moira as "The kids." Every time he said it Charles just stared at him, because, in all seriousness, none of them with the exception of maybe Sean, were children. Charles insisted, multiple times to Erik, that they were students, not kids. Erik said that only kids were students anyways, and thus Charles's argument was completely invalid. At that point Charles's stare had turned into a glare, and Erik had just grinned and declared himself the winner.

Which was how Charles found himself smacking his forehead when he thought, "What are the kids up to," on his way down one of the many long hallways of the manor. He had paused just a few paces away from a slightly ajar door, from where he could hear Alex saying in a not so hushed whisper, "No, Sean, it's a surprise."

Oh good lord. He didn't even want to know. Especially not after he'd caught Alex and Sean huddled away in the courtyard just the day before with Alex trying to convince Sean that trying to make an antique marble statue explode with his voice would be fun, and that Charles would be impressed.

Charles had expressed, when he found them, that he would not be impressed and would rather be very angry at them for destroying a marble statue worth more money than they could earn in either of their lifetimes put together.

Leaning against the wall near the door Charles weighed the options of just walking away versus listening in and finding out what insanity they were up to next. He chose the later after a moment's consideration, deciding that any meaning of the word "Surprise" coming from Alex probably wasn't a good thing. If he really wanted to he could just read their minds, he supposed, after all reading minds was what Charles Xavier did. He sighed and shook his head to rid himself of the idea. He'd promised Raven a long time ago he wouldn't do that to her, and he'd promised the kids he wouldn't do that to them either when they'd first come to the manor.

He smacked his forehead again as he realized that, for the second time in five minutes, he'd referred to them as kids. It was really all Erik's fault. It was always Erik's fault.

Returning his attention back to the matter at hand instead of mentally griping about Erik, Charles strained his ears to pick up any more snippets of Alex and Sean's conversation.

"Sean, I said no," Alex hissed. Charles tried not to roll his eyes. While Alex was hesitant about his powers he wasn't the least bit shy about who was in charge between him and Sean, even though Sean could probably kick his ass with a scream alone.

"But Erik might not like it . . ." Sean whispered worriedly.

"So? Charles didn't like what we were doing yesterday and that didn't scar you for life."

"That's Charles," Sean said insistently. "But Erik is scary."

Charles hid a snort of amusement behind his hand.

"He is not, you big baby," Alex laughed.

"Alex, he pushed me off a freaking giant satellite dish!"

"So? After he did you flew. You flew, Sean. That's a good thing."

"It would be a good thing if I didn't nearly jump out of my skin every time he snuck up behind me now. It would be an even better thing if he didn't laugh every time it happens."

Alex's outburst of hysterical laughter covered up Charles's own quite nicely, but he decided to turn and go back the way he had come all the same. One reason was because really, what harm could whatever this little surprise Alex and Sean were concocting have? The other was that he decided that if they thought Erik would hate it, then Erik would hate it. And Charles would take immense glee in the, "You are all mentally deficient," look Erik would wear if he hated whatever it was.

After two days, Charles forgot about the incident entirely. At least until he walked into the kitchen to find Raven and Moira bent over a massive cookbook.

"But you hate cooking," was the first thing out of his mouth when he entered the room, his eyes landing on Raven who was staring at him like a deer in the headlights.

"Uhhh . . . Moira was showing me a couple of easy recipes I could try," Raven said hastily before slamming the cookbook shut and rendering it completely impossible for Charles to see what she had been looking at. He'd been halfway around the table in a futile attempt to try before she had.

"Oh?" Charles raised a disbelieving eyebrow, "Really?"

"Er, yeah, I was," Moira said with slightly more confidence than Raven. "Just some things like spaghetti and tuna salad. Things like that."

"So it had nothing to do with the 'surprise' Alex and Sean were discussing the other day then?"

The "No!" that Moira and Raven practically screamed in unison was far too suspicious for Charles's liking. But if the girls were in on, well, whatever it was, he really didn't have as much to worry about as he'd previously thought. Right?

"Just try not to blow up the kitchen," he said, pointing a finger at the both of them.

He thought about the "Surprise" again that night when he was sitting on the end of the couch in front of the fireplace in his room. The fireplace was cold and empty this time of year, but he liked sitting there anyways, especially with a book. He was just turning the page in his most recent novel of choice when Erik had barged in, practically sitting on him as he manhandled Charles onto another cushion before occupying the one Charles had just been sitting on. "Something wrong?" Charles asked, setting down his book.

"No," Erik grumped, "Just a long day." He glanced at the book Charles had abandoned, "What have you got there my friend?"

"Something you wouldn't like," Charles assured.

"If it's another Austen book then you're right." Erik made a faintly mortified face at the thought and Charles chuckled.

"It's not." Charles leaned back on the sofa and folded his hands behind his head. "You wouldn't happen to know what the kids are planning, would you?" He winced slightly as he realized he'd once again referred to them as children, this time aloud.

Erik cast him a slightly curious glance, "No. Why, is it something we should be worried about?"

Charles shook his head, "No, no. I'm sure it's all good fun. For them anyways. I'm apprehensive however about the planned effect whatever it is will have on us. We seem to be the only ones out of the loop."

"Hank doesn't seem like he's up to anything," Erik pointed out. "He's just tinkering away with his various experiments as usual."

"One of which might be at the heart of this," Charles muttered. Erik frowned at the thought. "I'm not too worried however, they seem to be having fun with, well, whatever it is."

Erik promptly rolled his eyes, "That does nothing to reassure me, you know." He huffed as Charles swung his legs up onto the couch and into his lap, "Oh no you don't. Go read your book and leave me alone."

"I'm quite comfortable right here actually," Charles grinned. Erik just let out a dramatically long suffering sigh in return.

The next day Charles found out that Hank did indeed have a hand in the scheme the rest of the (oh, screw it) kids had cooked up. Literally cooked it would seem as Charles walked in on Hank bent over two separate Petri dishes smeared with what looked, unmistakably, like frosting.

"What exactly are you doing?" Charles couldn't help but ask as he watched Hank dip his pinky into the first one for a taste test.

Hank looked up, startled, "Er . . ."

Charles pointed a finger at the dishes, "That's frosting, isn't it?"

"Ummmm . . ."

"Why are you experimenting with frosting?"

"I, uh . . . I'm trying to decide whether a cream cheese base or a whip cream base is better for ah . . ."

Raising an eyebrow Charles dipped a finger into the second dish and popped it into his mouth, "Whip cream, definitely," he said after a pause before turning and leaving the room. He nearly crashed into Erik in the hall.

"Well?" Erik asked, crossing his arms.

"Were you seriously just lurking out here like a creep?" Charles asked instead of reporting his findings.

"Lurking like a detective," Erik corrected. "And yes. So is he in on it?"

Charles smiled and patted Erik's cheek as though he was a misinformed child, "Most likely. Also, I hope you like whip cream based frosting," he added before he continued on his way.

Erik just stared after him with a confused look and a silent, "What the hell," on his lips.

The entire next day both Erik and Charles were barred from the kitchen. Sean was on guard dog duty just outside it.

"Sean, step aside," Erik growled in the young man's face.

"Erik . . ." Charles started. Traumatizing student really wasn't the best way to teach them, in his opinion. It was also not the best way to gain access to the kitchen.

"Be quiet Charles, I'm hungry and he won't move."

Sean blanched and backed himself up against the door with a whimper. "I-I'm not supposed to let you in," he sputtered out, letting out a frightened "eep!" when Erik narrowed his eyes.

At that moment the door opened and Sean toppled backwards into the kitchen only to be caught by Alex, who grinned and shoved the red head inside before replacing him on watch duty and closing the door once again. "Hello there," he smiled.

Erik frowned and took a step back, put off by the sudden change. While Sean was usually scared shitless of him (after the incident with the satellite dish), Alex was one of the few in their little rag tag group who saw around his mostly bull shit threats. "Alex . . ." he warned.

Alex just continued to smile, his arms folding over his chest and his stance in front of the door remaining resolute. "Why don't you two go out today? Get some fresh air, see some classic New York sights? We're kind of busy here."


"Great idea!" Charles piped up, grabbing Erik by the arm. "We'll go do just that."

"Charles!" Erik protested as Charles dragged him away from the kitchen, "He needs to learn his place!"

"Which is not on the floor after you beat him up," Charles reminded. "Now come on, we're going out to eat."

"But I don't want to."

"Oh good lord. You are not four, the last time I checked, my friend. Don't whine like you are."

Dinner turned out to be an eat and leave affair, as Erik got bored of the five star restaurant Charles had treated him to as soon as he was done eating and had started manipulating the silverware of the rather portly couple two tables away and making them freak out. Charles was not amused.

"It wasn't funny," he reiterated as they walked along 72nd street. "You could have exposed us."

"It was hysterical and you know it," Erik smirked. "Did you see the man's face? And then when he called the waiter over and the fork wasn't 'possessed' anymore?"

Charles tried his best to frown at the memory, but it came out as more of a quirked attempt at a restrained smile. "All right, fine, it was funny. But don't do it again."

"Yes ma'am," Erik said with false remorse. He turned his gaze away when Charles merely smiled in return. "What's that?"

Following his gaze Charles let out a soft laugh, "That, my friend, is Bethesda Fountain." The sun was just starting to set, and with the exception of a few people walking home from work a bit late, the fountain was all but deserted. The sunlight glinted off the water as it set, making it's appearance liquid gold. Erik shifted where they had stopped, staring up at the towering angel perched atop the fountain's layered center. "The angel has been there since 1873, and was designed by Emma Stebbins," Charles informed as he followed Erik, the other walking up to the fountain's edge to stare at the statue. "She was the first woman to be commissioned for a major piece of art in the city."

"Thank for the history lesson professor," Erik mocked as he turned back to Charles. "Now up you go."

Charles let out a rather undignified sound of surprise as Erik suddenly grabbed him by the waist and lifted him up onto the edge of the fountain. It was only about two or three feet off the ground but Charles still wobbled when his feet hit the rim, unable to find his balance for a minute. "W-what are you doing?" he asked when he finally found his footing and his arms weren't waving about quite as spastically.

Erik grinned up at him from the ground, "Walking," he said, taking Charles's hand and beginning to do just that, Charles on the rim of the fountain and himself on the pavement below. Charles let him.

"Is this some sort of weird ritual I should be informed about?" Charles laughed.

"Something like that I'm sure," Erik smiled. "Isn't it . . . If you walk around the fountain you get a wish?"

"I'm pretty sure you mean if you toss a coin into the fountain you get a wish, my misinformed friend." Charles blinked as a sopping wet penny flew from the fountain and into his hand. "I'm pretty sure second hand doesn't count," he added.

"Just throw it."

Charles did. "And now we walk around the fountain?" he asked, giving Erik's hand a squeeze.

"After you tell me what you wished for," Erik pestered.

"I wished that whatever the kids are cooking up won't end in a horrible painful death," Charles said with a fake somber tone. Erik laughed.

"You should wear a nice jacket today," Raven informed him when she barged into his room the next morning and made a beeline for his closet.

"Jesus Christ," Charles exclaimed, pulling the sheets on the bed up to his neck and shoving Erik onto the floor in the same motion.

Raven looked over her shoulder as Erik cursed, a bored look on her face, "And Erik, you can't wear a turtleneck today."

"What are you, the god of clothes?" Erik groaned from the floor, ignoring Charles's insistent shushing.

"For all intensive purposes, yes," she said, chucking a suit jacket at Charles from across the room. "Also, pants are not an option. So please acquire some because I don't need these images burned into my eyes twice in a single day." Raven turned and made her way towards the door without a backwards glance, thus not seeing the face Erik made at her in response. "You need to be out in the courtyard in twenty minutes, by the way," she added before slamming the door closed.

"I hate surprises!" Erik practically screamed after her before he got to his knees and buried his face in the side of Charles's mattress. Charles just sighed and rolled his eyes.

Twenty minutes later Erik was tugging on his own suit jacket he had found pinned to the outside of Charles's bedroom door as they walked to the courtyard. "This is idiotic," he said to Charles, jabbing him with his elbow (on purpose) as he pulled the jacket on, "Can't you just read their minds?"

"I promised not to," Charles reminded him calmly. "Besides, they're not hurting anything."

"They're hurting my nerves," Erik stated. "Seriously, four mutant kids and one CIA agent, there are a thousand and one terrible horrible things that could happen, Charles."

"They are five well behaved-"

"Alex blew up part of the west wing last week."

"-Mostly well behaved," Charles amended, "mutant kids and one CIA agent. There's no harm in their little game, Erik."

"Say that to me in an hour," Erik dared through gritted teeth as they rounded the corner to the courtyard. Charles just hummed in reply.

Contrary to any previous expectations, such as an exploding frosting bomb or a terrible living confectionary with a taste for human flesh that Charles may or may not have expected, a massive white and gold frosted, three tiered, clearly a wedding cake, was not either of those. Because, clearly, it was a wedding cake. There was even a little sign in front of it on the picnic table in Alex's handwriting that said, "This is a wedding cake," as if they couldn't obviously be able to tell that for themselves.

"That's a wedding cake," Erik blurted out. Charles pursed his lips to keep from laughing.

Hank was in the midst of setting out some fine china plates on a separate picnic table that Charles would not have deemed acceptable for this particular cake, as they were purple and the cake was, not on any part of it, purple, and froze where he stood. Raven ad Moira had been placing bottles of whine and did the same. Alex had his finger poised to scoop some of the frosting off when he looked up at them with a smug grin.

"What exactly is going on here?" Charles asked lightly, finding that he was highly amused by the goings on at the moment. "Are we having a party?"

"Technically it's a celebration," Hank said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"For?" Charles prompted.

"You two," Alex exclaimed, raising his hands towards them. "Congrats!"

Erik just gave them all a blank look and Charles smiled, confused but amused.

"Since you can't have an official wedding," Raven spoke up suddenly, "We decided to make you a cake!"

Erik looked at her out of the corner of his eyes, "A what?"

"I think she said a wedding," Charles stage whispered.

"Is she drunk?"

"I don't think so."

"Am I drunk?"

"Not yet."

"I should get drunk."

"Advisable," Charles agreed.

"We're being serious," Raven said, her hands on her hips.

"I can see that," Charles smiled. "So you want us to, what, cut the cake and declare our undying love and devotion to each other?" He gestured between himself and Erik as if to demonstrate.

"Please no," Erik whispered as he lowered his face into his hands.

"Yes," Raven replied, probably just to spite him.

Charles just shook his head and laughed before dragging a reluctant, and faintly mortified, Erik towards the cake. "I don't know about cutting," he said as he dug his hand deep into the frosting on the second layer of the cake, "I've always liked the part where the groom and er . . . Groom just smeared cake in each others faces instead of cutting it and saying lovey-dovey stuff to each other.

Erik looked up, "Oh my god I love you," he whispered, digging his own hand into the cake.

"On three then?" Charles smirked.

"Three," Erik said promptly, before smashing a handful of cake into Charles's face and getting some on his own in return. Charles, blinded by cake however, mostly just got frosting on Erik's chin rather than his whole face however.

Somewhere in the background, Alex clapped and Raven let out a disgruntled groan.

"Well my friend, that's one way to do it," Charles said as he wiped cake from his eyes before grabbing another handful and reaching to smear it around in Erik's hair.

"As long as the kids are amused," Erik agreed.

"Speaking of kids . . ." Charles paused in his attempts to spike Erik's hair with frosting. "Where is Sean?" He glanced around the courtyard and came up empty handed, save for a smiling Alex who definitely qualified as suspicious. "Alex, where is Sean?" Alex just laughed. "Oh my god . . ."

"He's in the cake isn't he," Erik said, finishing Charles's thought.

"He'll suffocate in there!" Charles yelled at Alex.

"He's fine, he'll eat his way out eventually," Alex reassured with a wave of his hand. "Besides, it had to be done. He wouldn't shut up and he was going to cave in and spoil the surprise."

"But you don't put him in a cake!" Charles screeched, horrified.

"Yeah, I don't like Sean flavored cake. You should have put Charles in there instead," Erik suggested.

"Erik! You are not helping!"