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Hurricane I'll never out run (Can I be close to you?)

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The move to a new town is swift and they settle in just as quickly. New home, new school, new neighbourly quirks that they need to adopt, or at least appear amicable to all, enough to be accepted and then left alone. There’s nothing nosier than neighbours in a small, idyllic village, especially when masquerading as Americans and  the closest city is at least twenty miles away.  


But that is for Mama and Papa to worry about. All Erik has to do is keeping a low profile and getting through the school year will be easy enough. His grades are good enough and his habits of being taciturn will be enough to turn away even the most earnest well-meaning doer-gooder intent on making him feel welcome.


His sister Emma, on the other hand, is already prowling the little girls’ room, seeking out the current rumourmonger and trading secrets, working her way up the information dirt pile. All the better to rule with a diamond fist. But that’s okay, Erik knows Emma would never sell her little brother out for anything in the world. They take care of their own. Family means everything.


They’re sitting at the table they’ve designated as their own at the centre of the canteen, opposite each other so that between the two of them, they have full view of both exits and everyone inside. Emma casually points out every single individual of interest. Papa’s really proud of her information gathering skills. But Erik only listens with half an ear when the object of his interest sits down in the table behind Emma.


“What about him?” Erik asks casually, jerking his head in the direction of said individual.


Emma turns around to follow his gaze, scanning the room before landing on a bookish fellow with floppy brown hair, bent intently over a thick textbook at the next table.


She turns back to him and says dismissively, “That’s Charles Xavier, he’s a bona fide genius, finished grade school at the age of fifteen, currently undergoing his A-levels where if he manages to scrape through with straight A*s, he gets entrance to Oxford for the major of his choice; currently leaning towards math. Also temping as a TA here until his exams in three months time. Nothing of interest really.”


“Yes but, is he, you know,” Erik jerks his head with a raised eyebrow, willing Emma to get his drift.


She frowns for a moment, tilting her head sideways, “As far as I know he’s single, as to his sexual orientation, I have no dish on that, seeing that pretty boy there has been celibate. Ignoring both male and female overtures. General consensus is that he’s married to his books.”


Erik glances down at his meal; meatloaf and corn on the cob. He picks up the cob and starts nibbling on it. They never know if schools keep kosher or not, no that it matters. Once Mama has settled in she’ll be packing lunches for them.


He steals another glance at Charles, rolling the name off his tongue softly, ducking his head to hide his small smile. At least he knows his name and that he’s single.


Everything else, he can work on that.


* * *


He’s in the library, at the table his usual table, surrounded by his pile of books. Charles leans heavily on his elbows, running his hands through his hair, messing it up further.


“Right, you know this stuff, just…” he looks up startled from his monologue by the scraping of the metal chair opposite him.


A tall, lanky boy sits before him, looking skittish but green eyes glinting with determination, definitely new here; everyone else has stopped trying to approach him when he’s at this particular spot in the library.


“My name is Erik Lehnsherr and I’m new here and I heard you’re really good with math and I was just wondering if you would help tutor me? Please?” Erik pleads, clasping his knees, giving himself something to hold on to, to stop himself from just reaching out and taking what he wants. It doesn’t matter what kind of business his family deals with, Mama taught him better than that.


Charles takes the moment to observe the boy who seems earnest enough. And Charles knows he has been guilty of neglecting his duties as a TA for the last few weeks, with A-levels looming; taking advantage of the fact that everyone else knows this and has left him alone to his studies. Still, this late in the game, he knows that more cramming isn’t going to help and wasn’t teaching suppose to help hammer points in?


Erik wills himself to stop fidgeting under the full brunt of those blue eyes, but he can only keep composure for so long before giving into the urge to reach out and touch to see if the other boy is real, given his fae features; and rub his fingers all over those freckles.


After what feels like forever, Charles says, “Alright. What year are you in? I’ll give you a set of exercises to gauge your level and then we’ll go from there.”


Erik lets out a whoosh of air, relief coursing through his veins before answering, “Grade 10.”


“Right okay,” Charles grabs a textbook, flipping it to a chapter and turns it around towards Erik as his other hand passes over loose sheets of blank paper. “Do the problems on this page and let me know when you’re done.”


Erik takes the time to look over the set carefully; they’re relatively easy enough, but the trick is to seem to need help but not too much help that Charles decides to refer him to Ms Moira, the math teacher.


When Erik passes his papers back to Charles, a quick go over shows that Erik doesn’t really need a lot of tutoring, he seems to know the basics, but trips up on questions higher on the difficulty scale. It’s not going to be a lot of work to tutor him and at least going over such basics are only going to help him retain said knowledge better. There really is no reason for Charles to decline.


Coming to that conclusion, Charles sets Erik up with harder questions and the rest of the afternoon passes in scratches of pen on paper.


* * *


Each tutoring sessions goes by the same. Erik would come to the library after classes to find Charles hunched over his books; seat himself opposite Charles and then ask about some inane mathematical problems to get Charles to look up at him with those blue eyes. When they’re done with tutoring, Erik would take the opportunity to stay on and bring out his homework. Any reason to just sit and stay with Charles a little longer, just until the library closes and the librarian kicks them out.


Erik is smart, Charles finds, and works diligently, almost the perfect student, earnest and listens and shows improvement. If it weren’t for Erik genuinely messing up on the higher problems, he’d have suspected Erik of having some sort of ulterior motive to cosy up to him. However, Charles, by nature is rather an unassuming, honest person, combined with the last minute panic that major exams that will determine your entire future, he can be forgiven for being rather obtuse when it came to Erik’s true intentions.


Sometimes though, when he needs a break during their sessions, Charles pauses to observe Erik at work, head bent over the problem Charles has set out for him. He’s struck by just how attractive he is, with long eyelashes and grey-green eyes, set in a face that would have driven artists of old to a frenzy to immortalise in marble. The hand holding the pen as it scratches away is just as distracting, large hands with long fingers.


Charles would be lying if he says he doesn’’t think of those fingers at night; in the shower, while slowly jerking off - the only time he allows himself - those fingers dipping and slowly fingering him open. He shakes his head, to break himself out of the reverie before resuming his own work.


Oblivious to how closely Charles thoughts are running parallel to his, Erik looks up, distracted by Charles tossing his hair, taking the time to savour his favourite part of the day, where he’s able to sit close to Charles and just watch him: how his brows furrow in concentration and when faced with something tricky, Charles would bite down on those cherry, red lips, and then - wait for it - that pink tongue would swipe over his lower lip to soothe over the bite. Erik always has to dig his nails into the fleshy part of his palm to will his erection back down.


Then one session, Erik decides to change it up a bit, sitting next to Charles under the pretense of  a really difficult set of problems, slowly but steadily inching closer and closer to him; close enough to feel the heat radiating off Charles, where both their thighs almost touched, but not quite.


He begins to lean closer towards Charles, under the pretense of concentrating on the problem at hand, when really, he’s focused on Charles soft, lilting accent explaining theories to him, so focused on watching those short fingers grasp the pen elegantly sketching out solutions - thinking of how those fingers would feel wrapped around his cock, would Charles tug on him with the same fluidity or would be short firm tugs - that he’s taken aback when Charles suddenly turns to look at him, trailing off mid-sentence.


And they’re so close, it’s only a matter of breaths for Erik to just lean forward and press his lips and find out if those bitten, red lips are as soft as he’s always fantasised about in bed. Charles’ pupils are dilated, there’s only a rim of cornflower blue, his breath comes faster and that damnable mouth opens again, for his tongue to swipe at his lower lip nervously. Erik is so close, he can almost taste him…


And Charles is turning back to the papers, stuttering out mathematical explanations, his face flushed, losing the moment but hope surges up in Erik’s chest, his work has paid off.


He’s not the only one.


* * *


Time passes too quickly and the deadline is here, with Charles leaving for his exams tomorrow. Nothing has happened after that moment in the library, leaving Erik frustrated.


This is the last chance for Erik to give him a reason to come back to him.


He waits impatiently outside the classroom for the rest of the students to clear out, assured by Emma that this is Charles’ final class and no one will be using it next. Secure in the knowledge that she’ll find a way to cover for his own absence in class in exchange for the juicy details later. Thank G-d for family and their resourcefulness.


After the last student leaves, a mousy brunet with thick framed glasses who pauses to stare quizzically at Erik for a moment before scuttling off after Erik bares his teeth at him, he ducks into the room to find Charles, standing still gathering his things up. Erik clears his throat.


Startled, Charles looks up and it’s all he can do to stop himself from launching himself at him.


“Erik? I didn’t expect to see you here.”


“I came by because I wanted to wish you luck and give you a good luck present,” Erik takes a deep breath and fumbles with the door behind him to make sure it’s locked properly.


Puzzled, Charles leaves his things and slowly makes his way towards Erik who looks straight at him as he reaches up with steady fingers to slowly unbutton his shirt. Never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Charles closes the distance in three quick strides just as Erik undoes the final button and surges up to kiss those damnable red lips. He tastes of chapstick and sunlit corners. Erik licks at Charles’ bottom lip, just to taste more of him and uses the opportunity to do so when Charles groans. Grabbing at Erik’s arms, feeling out every inch of him, before moving further down, one hand grasping at his hip, the other palming his ass through his jeans, using a belt loop to pull him closer to Charles and he can feel Charles hard against the junction of his hip and groin.


The hand that’s palming his ass moves lower and urges Erik to lift his legs. Eagerly he clutches onto Charles shoulders and he wraps his legs around Charles, who uses both hands to cradle his ass. Neither of them pausing for breath, Erik’s stomach flutters at the knowledge that Charles is strong enough to support his weight. Then he’s carrying Erik back to the teachers desk and places Erik on said desk


“I’m going to get a hard-on every time I have classes here now, you know,” Erik says cheekily.


“Good.” Charles replies, as he moves down to nip at his collarbones, one hand splayed against Erik’s belly while the other plays with his nipples, rubbing at the pink nub gently before using his nail to scrape over it tip causing Erik to hiss.


Charles looks up at Erik deliberately before slowly using that indecently pink tongue to dip and lick swirls around his nipple before sucking at it gently, using his other hand to pinch and soothe the other, before slowly moving downwards to toy at the button of his jeans, then he cups Erik’s groin, palm pressing down, causing Erik to throw his head back against the desk as he groans.


Charles pulls off his nipple and moves back up towards Erik, “You like that?” His hand slowly pulls down the zipper of his jeans, and it feels like the longest unzipping of his life as he nods eagerly.


“You’ll like this bit better,” Charles says, winking as he sinks down to his knees as he pulls Erik’s jeans off. He nips at a beautifully formed calf muscle - runner’s calves from the look and feel of it - on his way back up, nuzzling at Erik’s balls, smelling of musk and arousal. He’s hard and gorgeous, easily one of the nicest cocks he’s seen and it’s been too long since Charles last snuck out to the bar in town, he’s going to take his time to enjoy this.


He licks one broad stripe up from root to tip before nuzzling at the circumcision scar, licking around it, causing Erik to buck his hips up. Charles uses one hand to pin his hips down, the other to hold the base of Erik’s cock as he laps at the head with broad strokes.


“Careful now, you could poke an eye out with this,” Charles says cheekily, smirking up at Erik who swats at Charles head, slightly miffed, but easily appeased when Charles catches his hand and places a kiss in the palm of his hand before letting go, going back to nuzzling the head of his cock and throws his head back against the desk when Charles slowly swallows him down, inch by slow, agonizing inch, with that blue, blue gaze trained on him the whole time.


Erik reaches out to tangle one hand in those soft, brown locks, making Charles close his eyes as he leans into Erik’s touch, humming his approval. He’s buried so deep in Charles throat, that the vibrations makes him jump, pushing that last, final inch deeper into Charles, who moans around Erik’s cock. Only the hands pinning his hips to the desk stops him thrusting up again into that soft, damp heat.


Despite those rumours Emma unearthed for him, there’s no way Charles is a virgin, not when he’s drawing his mouth off Erik’s cock, with one glistening strand of saliva and pre-cum joining sinful, red lips to the head of his cock. Charles smiles, before leaning back down to catch the head of his cock again, suckling softly, mindful of his teeth, alternating between suckling gently and swirling his tongue around the head, dipping into his slit before swallowing him down again. It doesn’t take much for Erik so start babbling a litany of please, Charles, please, when Charles finally swallows him down to the root and hums. It’s more than enough to tip him over the edge and he’s spilling into Charles’ mouth, babbling apologies to Charles who pull himself up to lie beside Erik on the desk, who silences him by giving him and open-mouth kiss. He can taste himself on Charles tongue; it only makes him kiss back harder.


Once he’s finally managed to catch his breath, Charles pulls Erik’s hand towards his groin, still hard but Erik twists his hand just so he’s tugging Charles’ hand towards the space between his legs, drawing a leg up for easier access and Charles can feel the slickness between his arse cheeks.


Erik uses his free arm to draw Charles close, presses his forehead against Charles’ and whispers, “I prepped myself up in the bathroom before. Always be prepared, you know?”


Charles groans as he presses a hard, bruising kiss against Erik’s lips, licking his way in, claiming his mouth further. He’d have been more than satisfied with a handjob, or even rutting his way to completion between Erik’s thighs. His mind now flooded with images of Erik in their dingy boy’s toilet, with one knee up on the toilet seat, pants around one ankle, one hand braced against the cubicle wall as the other slowly stretches himself open; the arousal Charles felt before is nothing compared to the surge of lust in his veins now.


“You little minx,” Charles growls, wrapping one arm around Erik’s waist and pulls him flush against his body. He nips at Erik’s earlobe before whispering hotly into his ear, “I can either finger you open and fuck you over this desk so hard, you won’t be able to remember your name; or you can climb over me and finger yourself for me and ride me on this desk before I bend you over and fuck you so hard you won’t be able to sit without remembering my cock buried deep inside of you.”


Thank G-d for teenaged hormones - a small part of him knows that his mama would wash his mouth out with soap for such blasphemy - but Erik feels too light-headed to care as he scrambles up so fast to straddle Charles. The blood rushing back to his eagerly, hardening cock doesn’t help that feeling either. Erik gets up on his knees, one hand pulling his balls up while the other reaches behind him, circling around the rim of his hole gently before slowly sinking one digit in. He sways slightly at the feeling, unsure how his knees are going to keep him upright, before Charles wraps his hands around his hips, encouraging Erik to go on; his eyes half-lidded with pleasure, intent on Erik’s finger slowly pushing in and out.


That damnable pink tongue darts out to lick at his bottom lip, distracting Erik, before a light smack on his bottom brings his attention back to Charles, making him jump, “I told you to add another finger, love.”


The gleam in those blue eyes tells Erik that he didn’t miss how Erik’s cock twitched in interest at that tone. “Or would you rather I lend a helping hand?” Charles purrs. Without waiting for an answer - Erik would have only said yes, yes, yes - but his throat closes up at the feel of one blunt finger joining his, sinking in up to the first knuckle; all he can do is nod his head vigorously.


Without Charles to help hold himself up, he braces one hand against Charles chest, thumb accidentally brushing against one nipple, who responds by adding another finger into his hole, slowly fingering Erik open, gently rubbing against his walls as though searching for something when suddenly there's a feeling of lightning sparking up the base of his spine.


He arches his back as Charles takes the opportunity to rub the pads of his fingers against that spot again before pulling out, making Erik whine at the loss. He watches Charles spit into the palm of his hand, slicking his cock up, making his own cock twitch again in excitement. Who knew being tutored in math could produce such sexy results?


Before Charles says anything, Erik scoots back a bit and takes hold of Charles’ cock lining it up against the rim of his hole, who helps by grabbing hold of Erik’s hips to steady him, giving Erik the chance to pace himself.


Charles holds himself rigidly in check as Erik teases the head of his cock by rubbing the head of Charles’ cock around the rim, slowly pushing the tip in and out, trying to adjust to the feeling, making Charles bite down on his lip, the feeling of having his foreskin stretching around the head of his cock is torturous. Until Erik finally decides to sink down on his cock, cause his foreskin to stretch back as the head of his cock breaches Erik’s hole.


It’s different from his fingers or even the combination of both Charles and his fingers, the feeling Charles’ cock in him, stretching him, almost painful but it’s a nice pain. Erik slowly sinks down, inch by slow, tormenting inch. He’s grateful for Charles’ hands on his hips holding him steady, too overwhelmed by all the new sensations. He’s surprised his knees haven’t given way yet… and he spoke too soon, one knee slipping from the sweat pooling down their bodies. He shouts as he falls and clenches hard on Charles’ cock, which is now buried to the hilt in him.


Charles grits his teeth and recites the principles of calculus to distract himself from the way Erik is clenching down exquisitely on his cock. He wants this to last, damnit, but Erik is squirming on his cock and whimpering in the most delicious way. There’s time later for Erik to make all the noises in the world, but right now, Charles has to calm down enough so they can savour this. So he buries his hand in Erik’s sweaty locks, tugging his head down and licks another kiss into his mouth.


Erik responds by surging into his mouth, matching each lick and improvising with nips of his own to Charles’ lips, pouring enough attention to stop squirming on his cock for a bit, long enough for Charles to bring himself from the brink. He drags his hand down Erik’s body, pausing to cup at the nape of his neck before trailing down to palm at his gorgeous arse, causing Erik to groan into his mouth. He jumps when Charles skirts a finger around the rim of Erik’s hole, stretched wide open around the base his cock.


When he finally moves his hand around to palm at Erik’s cock, still hard despite the discomfort he must be in. Charles hums into the kisses, wrapping his hand around Erik’s cock, tugging gently, causing Erik to bite down on Charles’ bottom lip, crying out in dismay before he laps at it apologetically. Charles responds by nipping gently at Erik’s lips, running his other hand down Erik’s trembling flank, soothing him.


Once the trembling subsides, Erik places both hands on Charles’ chest, sitting back up, making the both of the groan at the change in position. He slowly draws himself back up before sinking down on Charles’ cock again, whose hands clench, desperate to find something to clutch on to but also wanting to let Erik set his own pace. And set his own pace, he does.


Charles mentally applauds his self-restraint, he’s only had to recite pi once when Erik decides that he’d had enough of moving up and down before deciding to sink down low and just rock himself against Charles cock and raising both hands up to play with his nipples, throwing his head back to expose that long pale neck that Charles just wants to mark all over as his.


It feels like forever with the glorious slide of his cock buried deep inside Erik, the sight of his gorgeous cock bobbing up and down with each roll of his hips makes his mouth water again. He definitely wants to feel that up his arse at a later date. It’s almost too much for Charles to bear, until Erik tips his head back down and looks at Charles, eyes heavy-lidded with pleasure, pupils blown so wide. There’s a small smirk playing at his lips before he brings one hand up to his mouth, licks at it obscenely before using the same hand to pinch one pert nipple.


Oh it is on, Charles surges up, grabbing hold of Erik’s hips, rearranging his legs so that Erik is straddling him, knees still bent - he hopes his hands will leave bruises on Erik - pulling him down, burying his cock even deeper in Erik before biting down on that very same nipple Erik had been taunting him with. He bucks his hips up, jolting Erik up and down who clutches at his shoulders, hands tangling in his hair, clinging on, pleas of more, harder, teeth, yes please, more.


Interspersed with moans and gasps, symphonies to Charles’ ears. He looks down to watch Erik’s cock bobbing up and down in time with his thrusts and finds that Erik is wet with pre-cum; he dips his hand down to swipe his thumb over the head of Erik’s cock, gathering a white bead on his thumb. Using his other hand to tug at Erik’s curls redirecting his attention back to him. Charles makes sure Erik’s gaze is on him, watching it flick down to his thumb as he brings it up to his mouth, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. He makes sure Erik is watching as he licks the bead of pre-cum off his thumb, moaning at the taste.


Erik’s eyes widen and the hands that’s tangled in Charles clenches so hard, he’s sure Erik has yanked a few strands out but it’s worth it to watch Erik fly apart, coming so hard as he clenches down on Charles, striping both their bellies with stripes of white come just as Charles marks Erik on the inside with his come.


They trade slow, sweet kisses in between catching their breath before Charles flops back down on the desk, pulling Erik to lie atop of him as he carefully pulls himself out of Erik, who shivers at the loss of contact and the foreign feeling of Charles’ come slowly seeping out. He decides that he rather likes it. Lying on Charles’ chest, while Charles cards his hand through his hair, Erik is lulled by the thudding of Charles’ heartbeat slowing down from the endorphine high as he traces patterns on his skin, before he’s startled by Charles who suddenly flailing about. His heart seizes in panic, did he read the situation wrongly and oh god, Emma is going to ruin Charles for breaking her baby brother’s heart.


But instead of jumping off the table and haphazardly pulling his clothes on, Charles is twisting and reaching over the desk to pull a drawer out, fumbling around for something before pulling it out with great flourish. He grabs Erik’s hand and wipes at it petulantly before scribbling a ten digit number in the palm of his hand.


He kisses Erik’s inner wrist before letting go, “My number. Call me the day after tomorrow, the hardest exam should be done by then. I really don’t usually do this and run, but I have to pack and catch my train to London.”


Charles cups the back of Erik’s neck again as he kisses him before getting up and throwing his clothes on, not before rummaging through his rugsack for tissues to wipe Erik clean, he gives into temptation and licks the line of come trickling out of Erik, following it back up to his reddened, puffy pucker, swiping his tongues over the sensitive flesh, taking note when Erik does a full body shiver at the touch of his tongue.


He stands and leans over to kiss Erik again, who surges up, chasing the taste of Charles, reluctant to let him go now that he’s succeeded in reeling him in. But Charles is wriggling out of his arms and heading out the door, using his thumb and pinky emphasizing, “Make sure you call me, Erik. Or I’m coming back after the exams to hunt you down.”


Erik can only nod enthusiastically, as he gathers his own clothes, relishing in the aches, satisfied in both body and at his success.