AN: My take on what happened that last night at Charles's mansion. Reviews welcome!
Fairly graphic Erik/Raven, Erik/Charles. First-Class Spoilers.
Charles was alone. Normally he craved solitude when he was tired or anxious, for he hated to appear as anything other than what he was, which was brilliant and charming. But tonight was…different. Erik's bleak fatalism had left him feeling not only disturbed, but, restless. In fact, if he was honest with himself (and he really had no other option; a telepath's first playground is his own mind), Erik always made him restless…and yet he craved his company even when he was at his worst. There was something (Charles smiled at his mental pun) magnetic about him, and he was drawn to his volatile nature, his narrow philosophizing, his strength…for reasons he could not fully articulate.
That was it, then. He couldn't explain it. And Charles could explain everything. That was what bothered him…he did not understand why he liked this man, this feral slave to hatred who challenged his authority at every turn, why at the end of an argument, alone in the dark, all he could think about was the fire in those pain-lined eyes, and how good the game had been…
Have you ever looked at a tiger, and thought it should be covered up?
Charles's whole body shuddered as an all-too-familiar mind brushed his own, and he sat up ram-rod straight in his armchair. He swore under his breath and was then completely still, as tense as an intruder, although the intent had not been there. This was a secret not even his little Raven knew, that sometimes the gift asserted itself without his assent, and sometimes, like now, the world's thoughts and feelings were too loud to block even if he wanted to.
People have been trying to tame you all your life, Raven. It's time to set you free.
The telepath closed his eyes, and was simply there. Erik's desire was a siren song, drawing him farther into his mind, and Raven's thoughts fluttered wildly, grounding him in the moment as if he stood two feet away. Her heart beat fast, a humming-bird beat, not tiger-like, no…Erik was the tiger, and he had pounced. It was intoxicating…he couldn't look away…
No. That was a lie, and even now, eyes shut tight, back arched, drunk on their passion and that damned whiskey, Charles could not lie to himself.
He wouldn't look away.
... ... ... Erik POV ... ... ...
She burns bright in this forest of doubt, this seemingly endless night. Shyness did not become her, and she is shedding it now in stages, like that banal human form. Her tongue explores my mouth with a hunger that matches the sheen in her predator's eyes…my dear, you cannot scare me, so be bold. If she had come to me blue and fearless, I would shove her down now, grab her wrists, bite her neck, and enter her without ceremony, because that is what she wants. But I let her touch me. I let her discover her own desire.
Her slender legs wrap around my waist, and she responds to the need she feels there instinctively. Her hips begin grinding in an irresistible rhythm, and she lets out a small moan as the pleasure hits her, then buries her head in my chest, as if this would offend me. I lean forward and suck on her earlobe. Her hands disappear beneath my shirt, and trace the contours there.
"Take it off."
It is more a growl than a request. God knows patience was never my virtue. She does, quickly and seamlessly, and I make short work of the rest of my clothing before pushing her gently onto her back.
Her lips caress my name. All I want, all I want is to be inside her… "What is it?" And then, because my tiger has devoured selfishness, "Do you want me to stop?"
A brief moment of surprise…and then her pupils become slits. Her nails dig into my back and drag downward. Her cerulean skin is heat. "No."
She is a goddess among insects, and I worship her the only way I know how. I am moving too quickly, being too rough, but she rises to the occasion…we are both crying out now, and I hope that the words she needs, the words I should say to this beautiful creature but can't, are in there somewhere. Eventually, we find a rhythm to master our mutual chaos, and I watch the orgasm radiate through her, choke her into silence, melt her into me. I am close, how can one not succumb to that spell…
And then I feel him. He is…there, here, I mean, right here, unobtrusive and yet unmistakable. I realize with a jolt that he has been here the whole time, and now he feels me feel him, and Raven feels that something is wrong, but stays blessedly silent…outrage is my kneejerk reaction, and it is strong.
What are you doing!
I reach out with my mind, and hope that it hurts him. Instead it brings him more clearly into focus…and my chest clenches like it always does. Goddamnit!
I am sorry, I just…you were…
He is completely discomposed, flustered…his defenses are down, and as he struggles to pull out, pull away, I read his naked consciousness like a book. The moment is ruined surely, and any second now I'm going to have to tell Raven something…
Except that I am still hard. I am still moving…and he is still watching, and the moment states its own truth through my thoughts.
This is what you want.
I don't know what I want.
You are lying, Charles.
I come, and I come hard. Raven holds me close to her, and I collapse into her embrace knowing that it was that one silent word that took me there just as surely as her fire…knowing that he felt it, and that two rooms away, alone in the dark, his lips caressed my name, although I could not hear it with my ears.
I thought I was alone. And now…now my own kind consumes me.