Charles pants into his mouth and everything smells like arousal when he presses impossibly close. And instead of stumbling as one, Charles pushes Erik back until he has him up against the wall, spine rigid, head dipping as he catches Charles' lips in his teeth.
"You have no morals." Erik whispers in retaliation and it makes Charles close his eyes in stuttering relief. "Lost it all when I found you."
Instead of sounding sorry, he chuckles and there is something deep and sad, his fingers clench in the fabric of Erik's black turtleneck and it is almost enough to bring them both down. But he pushes, continues, knuckles digging into Erik's chest.
"Thought you would've appreciated that."
Erik kisses him, open mouthed and hungry with an internalized anger that is still drowning him, even now. Even when they are thousands of miles in land, nothing really changes.
There is still an ocean of doubt between them.
"You don't," Charles opens his eyes and returns the kiss with an equal share of feverish intents, with all that he has to offer, "not when I lose it with you, Erik."
His hands fumble at the dress shirt's buttons, plastic rendering Erik's powers useless. They tug at their tops from the waistbands of their pants and it is a tangle of fingers and pressure.
"You don't like me in your head." Charles says when he bites kisses down Erik's exposed collar, tongue soothing where his teeth is grazing to hurt. Admit it, Erik, you hate it when I talk this way.
Erik doesn't deny a thing.