They were playing chess, like they always did in the evenings when the teenaged mutants tumbled into bed. Erik was nursing his second martini, while Charles was cradling his fourth tumbler of scotch in those long academic’s fingers.
It was Erik’s turn and Charles had him backed into a corner. He leaned over the board, studying it carefully from above, trying to figure out how to salvage this desperate situation. Completely engrossed in his thoughts, he missed the first shift his companion made. A shadow worked its way into his vision, unexpected and sudden. He glanced up just in time to witness the telepath’s palm escaping his field of vision, that delicate-seeming hand bound for Erik’s ironically pristine white hair.
He let out a sigh and fixed a stern look on Charles, who was smiling at him innocently whilst his hand vigorously ruffled Erik’s hair. Erik would be lying if he said that it didn’t feel good, and eventually he simply gave in to that charming grin and those fingers that scritched lightly at his scalp. The next sigh was one of contentment and was accompanied by a low noise in the back of his throat that was decidedly pleased.
“You have such groovy hair, Erik,” Charles nearly chirped, his cheeks flushed from the alcohol. “It’s so… so… full of swag.” His hand had stopped moving and instead rested on the crown of Erik’s head, though by now it was far too late to tame the tousled strands.
Erik’s eyes slid open; an eyebrow rose in Charles’ direction. “’Swag’?” he mirrored, his rumbled tone practically dripping in amusement. “What does that even mean?”
“I have no idea!” The telepath returned brightly, his grin dazzling. It drew a low, rumbling chuckle from Erik’s chest.
The petting began again, causing tingling sensations to work down his body. It was pleasing and soothing and lulling and Erik could sit here for hours, letting Charles play with his hair.
It was, however, not to be.
“I’m going to win in three turns. If you don’t take me to bed right now,” Charles murmured, voice pitched low, “You and your hair full of swag – “ his hand fisted into Erik’s hair, grip hardening and threatening to tug, “Will be sleeping on the couch tonight.”
Erik tilted his head back ever so slightly, his own grin spreading predatorily across his lips.
“Whatever you say, Charles.”
And that was just what the telepath wanted to hear.