So, after the lovely, lovely response I got to my first X-Men fic, I decided to write another. A Cherik one. Hope you like! =D

Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men.


It had been a long, arduous day of training and both Erik and Charles were in desperate need of some time to unwind following it. So, after enlisting Moira to look after the children up at Westchester (a feat Charles swears he did not use his powers to have her do), the two men found themselves walking along a crowded street in New York City, deep in conversation.

Passing a pub, cheerful music filtered out to greet them, crescendoing as the door open and three drunken, pretty girls stumbled out, giggling uncontrollably. Charles eyes followed them unconsciously, a smirk playing on his lips as he glanced back to the pub from which they had emerged.

Hoping to find more girls of the same calibre inside, he clapped his friend on the shoulder to get his attention, "Fancy a drink, Erik?"

Erik smirked, "If you're buying, my friend."

Entering the pub, Charles' eyes scoured the area, eventually spotting a good-looking, red-headed girl standing by herself at the bar. He strode forward, confidently, running his fingers lazily through his hair and allowing his features to break into a charming smile as he approached her. Suddenly realizing his friend's motive for entering the pub, Erik rolled his eyes, but followed him to the bar, nevertheless.

"That really is fascinating, Professor," the girl grinned, about a half and hour later, tacking on the title flirtatiously after she had been subjected to Charles usual patter for picking up women in bars - accurately 'guessing' her drink of choice before going to describe her red hair as a 'very groovy mutation'.

Charles matched her grin, pleased that his approach had been a success (yet again) whereas Erik, who was leaning up against the bar, behind Charles and privy to every word, rolled his eyes and had to hide his derisive scoff by taking another long drink of his beer. Erik had exactly consumed half a beer whereas Charles had pounded - at least - seven beverages, all with varying degrees of alcohol. A fact which was painfully evident. Whereas Erik still had his composure about him, Charles' was quickly depleting. The professor's speech was slurred and he had one hand clutching the edge of the bar tightly, in order to steady himself, swaying dangerously every time he let go of his support.

The girl looked up at Charles from under her eyelashes, "What do you say we go back to my place?" she asked, smiling sultrily, and Charles let out an intoxicated giggle, "I've even got a friend that's perfect to keep your friend busy, too," she added, sparing a glance over Charles' shoulder to Erik before she called over a brunette girl who had been lingering near the jukebox.

The brunette girl sauntered over, taking her place beside her friend, who whispered something in her ear. Erik didn't hear what was being said, but, whatever it was, it was enough for the brunette girl to give him the same sultry smile the redhead was giving Charles. Erik mustered up enough composure to keep his expression impassive and not allow his disgust shine through - she really wasn't his type.

"This is my friend, Sophie," the redhead said, gesturing to her.

"Hello," Charles slurred, reaching out behind him to grab Erik's arm and drag him forward, "And this is my friend, Erik. He's my- my best friend," he gave a small hiccup before continuing, "My best friend. Aren't you, Erik? Erik? Erik?" he prompted, nudging his companion in the side with each time he said his name.

"Yes, I am, Charles," he murmured in response as Charles slung an arm around him and pulled him in close against his side.

"He's absolutely smashing, he is. You'd- You'd be lucky to have him," Charles gave another hiccup, brandishing the glass of beer he had in his hand first at Erik and then at Sophie, his voice rising loudly as he yelled into his ear, "Aren't you smashing, Erik?"

Erik willed himself not to flush red, as people abandoned their own conversations to stare at the four of them by the bar. Swallowing hard, he warned quietly, "Charles..."

"Oh, don't be so modest," Charles laughed, "He's always like this!"

"Charles..." Erik said again, his tone more urgent this time, as yet more people twisted around in their seats to play spectator to the scene that was unfolding.

"OH, COME ON, ERIK. YOU'RE BLOODY GORGEOUS!" Charles yelled jubilantly, thumping his beer glass down on the bar and then, without warning, he gathered Erik's face in his hands and pressed his lips against his.

Not exactly what he imagined his first kiss with Charles to be like, Erik mused, when they broke apart several minutes later. After which, neither of them paid much attention to the fact that the two girls had stalked away, in search of new prey, nor the fact that the whole pub seemed to be staring at them. They both just stood gazing at each other with wide eyes and breathing heavily.

Charles swallowed hard, the kiss seemed to have sobered him up slightly, "I didn't, ah..."

"Yes, Charles, you did," Erik replied and Charles exhaled a little laugh as he turned to drain the remainder of his beer.

Erik took it from him gently and replaced it on the bar, with a smirk, "I think you've had enough of that, my friend."

"I, ah, I suppose you're right," Charles murmured, although a small smile was playing on his features. He had kissed Erik Lensherr. He had kissed Erik Lensherr. The thought ran rampant in his head, widening his smile.

Still smirking, Erik put a hand on his friend's back and began to guide him from the pub, "Let's get you home to bed, Charles."


Reviews are loved! =3