Everyone in New York knows that once a month, Professor X and Magneto face each other across the chessboard in Central Park.
The New Yorker runs an article on it. They say, in a diplomatic way, that they think these two men are doing it. The Washington Post publishes an article as well, putting it in terms that people can understand: "Are the two mutant figureheads of New York engaged in the longest running foreplay ever?".
Mayor Mactaggert isn't sure it's a good thing in the beginning (especially after the incident in the janitor's closet). Then again, it has gone on for almost a year now and according to her number crunchers, fewer things have been blown up by the two groups. Or, it seemed to be the case at first. The past two months, however, there have been more skirmishes and a higher level of destruction than in the period since the mayor asked the two men for a talk.
He knows that's the reason whyhe has been in a less than stellar mood lately.
All because his arch nemesis refuses to repeat, or even better, expand upon their tete-a-tete in the town hall janitorial closet.
Such a party pooper.
Charles moves his knight. "Check."
Magneto's mouth twists into something less than pleased. It's more or less what Charles has to go on, because the rest of his lovely face is covered by that ugly ass helmet of his. Well, Charles expects he's got a lovely face. Apparently the man is dead scared of telepaths, so Charles probably won't ever get to see him without that bloody helmet.
Such a shame.
Charles would like to think that the displeased look is because if Charles checkmates him, they have to part ways. But maybe Charles is just projecting his own emotional state here.
Or maybe that of their audience.
In the beginning, when they had started out their chess games in Central Park, people had hurriedly run away. Then they'd come back and there was a ton of photos on the internet now with tags like #MutantLoveAffair #GameOfMutants.
Charles' favorite tag cluster is #USTmuch? #GetARoom! #MutantLove (he's used it once or twice himself).
These days, their chess game racks up the audience numbers and on occasion, they give Charles a headache. And make him flush because damn, he thought he had a healthy sexual imagination, but it's got nothing on those people!
He's not blind to the fact that it also means that the city gets a different view on Magneto. He's less of the big, bad boogie man now, especially as his and Charles' debates over the board tend to get loud and passionate and more than a few of them have been recorded and put online. It gives the public a healthy view of Magneto's viewpoints as well as Charles'. He just wishes Magneto would sound less like a maniac sometimes. It's the passion, it has to be, because the man is intelligent, no doubt about it, (bad taste in colour schemes, notwithstanding). It's just that when Magneto does get caught up in their debates, he tends to sound a lot like a raving madman.
Which should make Charles happy as that would put their audience on his side. But it's also not getting him laid, now is it?
He isn't entirely sure how he feels about the humans now, all gathering around Professor X and himself. It is all that Erik can focus on his opponent (and not his damnably blue eyes teasing Erik from below the hood! Or the distractingly red lips!). At least their games are engaging enough that after a few minutes, he tends to forget the flatscans are even there, wholly focussing on the game.
Not to mention what he really wants to do with the professor. He's damned lucky that he's wearing a telepathy blocking helmet, because if the professor could read his thoughts…
Erik has a flash of wondering if the man might flush down beyond the collar of his indecently tight suit. Seriously, the hood is the only loose thing on the outfit. Erik himself is grateful for his cape and what it covers up.
Sinking deeper into the pit of not-getting-laid, Erik can't help but recognize the downward spiral, but he's fucked if he knows what to do about it when Professor X once again riles him up with his soft, naive view on the world and the mutant cause and their audience are egging him on.
Azazel figures this might be why he's stopped doing it. As much as the man seems to enjoy the attention and the fear of the public, it does not seem conducive to his goals. Whatever those might be. Azazel does not stick his nose into business that is not his.
The charming company he has during these outings might eventually change this. The professor might be naive, like Magneto claims, but Azazel has his doubts. It's not like the man comes alone. He's got security with him.
Lovely, charming, security.
Azazel has faced off against Mystique on the battlefield before, and it has given him the utmost respect for her abilities, both her shapeshifting as well as her skills as a fighter. He has a few scars that are her fault.
Which only makes him respect her more.
She also has, he has learned, a devious mind and apparently she's as tired of the status quo as he is. She's the one who has shown him the articles from the Washington Post and he has to agree - this is the longest, most ridiculous foreplay ever.
Maybe if they finally got the UST out of the way, Magneto would stop being so damned cranky.
Although he wasn't interested in her ideas in the beginning, he's now seeing the merit of her agenda. As much as he does not shy away from carnage and destruction for the right reasons, levelling New York to the ground is probably a little over the top.
However, it's a real possibility, if someone doesn't deal with Magneto's epic case of blueballs - and soon.
Charles won't mind, she's sure. As long as it gets her brother laid so she can avoid having to deal with his depressed ass obsession with Magneto, and for the sake of New York's survival if nothing else!
God knows Raven loves her brother dearly, but if she has to listen to him swinging between waxing poetics about the man's ass (or arse, because her brother is still stupidly British) and raving about his backwards, supremacist views on the mutant cause, she might have to choke a bitch.
Or her brother.
Probably her brother. She looks over at the 'battlefield' and rolls her eyes. Definitely choke her brother. Charles has trained her in observational skills because he feels she needs to get her shifts perfect down to the smallest detail in order to keep her safe in the field.
He's not wrong. She knows this.
But right now she's putting it to a different use. She watches how her dear brother leans forward, as if drawn in by Magneto.
The master of magnetism. She snorts under her breath. He's definitely magnetic to Charles. She can't see Charles' face from this angle, but she just knows that he's licking his lips, because Magneto's gaze just dipped down from its intense scrutiny of his eyes (she knows those eyes - they have no effect on her anymore, but she's seen everything from the puppy-dog-eyes™ to the stern-paternal-I'm-disappointed-with-you-eyes™).
Her gaze softens as she stares at the back of Charles' hood. However, so few have seen the I'm-so-tired-I-could-keel-over-right-now™ or the I-can't-give-up-just-yet-there's-so-much-more-to-do-for-our-kind™ - two variations of the same theme. Or the I'm-so-drunk-off-my-ass-I-think-I'm-funny-and-suave™ (which he's so not.).
Yeah, he needs an extra pair of shoulders for this project. Not that he doesn't have her and the rest of the X-men, but she knows he sees them as his protégés, and while he loves them all, he needs someone who'll be his equal. And she'd quite like someone else who can call him on his shit.
If Magneto will ever get his head out of his arse, that is. She shakes her head. See, now Charles has her doing it too. Ass. Head out of his ass. Or out of that dick-shaped helmet of his.
She turns her attention to Azazel, the plan slowly taking shape. She's lucky that Charles honors his promise to not read her mind. She'll need stealth, insight, luck, skill…
"Hey, Azazel?" She turns her brightest smile on him. "Could I run an idea past you?"