“Yes, Raven. Yes, I’m doing well. Columbia is treating me just fine.” Charles twiddled the ballpoint pen in his fingers. “Hmm? It’s been two months, I’m pretty used to New York by now.” He switched the phone to his other ear and shook his head. “No, it’s not that- Raven, I do have a full workload. I don’t have time for a social life right now, I haven’t even been able to go out on a bender in weeks.” An unexpected snicker escaped him. “No, it is not that I’ve become an old man with no passion for life, but thank you for the input.”
He prodded a small green leaf on his new potted plant, genus philodendron, seated snugly on his windowsill. For some reason his sister felt that because he was a biology professor he enjoyed staving off death for another life form. “Yes, I’m taking care of it. No, I won’t let it die. No, I didn’t give it a name… I don’t think Charles’-Only-Friend is quite what I had in mind.”
Charles leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. “Yeah, I’m pretty tired too. I think I’ll head to bed.” He frowned pensively into the receiver. “Raven, we’ve been through this. I wanted to leave Oxford and come to New York. It’s not because of you. I received the offer and accepted it. I just… have to adjust.”
He gazed longingly out the window into the darkened alleyway that made up his view. Harsh city lights caught swirls of color in the oil slick pavement below. “I miss England too. But I promise that we’ll go out to the country some weekend. And I’ll be able to add some American birds to my journal. I just have to get through midterms.”
Scrambling for a bit of clean paper among his cluttered desk, he jotted down a note. “Lunch, right. I’ll try to call you back with a good time. This weekend is looking like I’ll be asked to stop by the labs, so I don’t know.” A heartfelt smile curled his lips. “I love you too. Now get some sleep, you don’t want to be late to work again.” He hung up with a smirk before she could argue.
The smile dropped from his lips as he caught sight of his briefcase. With a reluctant sigh, Charles slid over a tower of binders and texts threatening to topple to make a square space in the book drenched marshlands of his desk. He pulled out his student’s tests and began to shuffle through them, but felt too buggered to really consider grading tonight. Introduction courses had been thrown at him with his new position, and given his students’ abysmally bad answers, and his general disinterest in reading whatever they happened to come up with-an enzyme was not an enhanced zyme, but nice try-he was highly considering Scantron tests. How his old professors would be scandalized at the thought...
Spotting his binoculars, he snatched them off his desk and wiped the dust off with a cardigan sleeve. He really should take better care of them; they were top of the line, after all. Charles opened his observation journal and thumbed through a few pages, looking absently over the abandoned passages. There was nothing but pigeons near his apartment complex, though he had heard that Central Park was a popular bird watching destination. Perhaps he should invite Raven to go there with him on one of his days off. Out of boredom he put the binoculars to his eyes and peered out of his window.
He idly scanned the concrete wall of the neighboring apartment building. Most of the windows had their curtains drawn shut, which really wasn’t surprising, given the time.
“The Homo sapien in his natural environment, the confines of a New York apartment,” he murmured to himself, mimicking a nature show host’s cultured voice. Heh, had he really become this pathetic, playing pretend safari with his neighbors?
He cheerfully observed that one, nearly directly across from him, had the curtains open. The light was on, and just out of curiosity, really nothing more, he looked into the room. Not surprisingly, there was a lone man with side swept, straight brown hair in a smart business suit, scanning a stack of papers in his hands. This was the Upper East Side, after all; businessmen were just about as abundant as pigeons. What was surprising was how handsome Charles found him, and to impress Charles Xavier, socialite extraordinaire of Oxford.... It was like finding a goldfinch when looking for sparrows. He adjusted the lens for a better view.
The man’s stance was, if Charles were to give it a description, confident. Square set shoulders, straight spine, everything that spoke of having power and knowing how to use it-that is, if the professor was forced to make an assumption, based on posture alone. A closer examination of the man’s face showed his forehead to be creased with several lines, light crow’s feet forming around his eyes, serious lips set in a slight frown. He looked to be a tad older than Charles’ own thirty years. The man threw the papers on his bed and turned to the window.
Charles slammed the binoculars down onto his desk and stared at them furtively, a cold sweat breaking out along the nape of his neck.
“Shite, did he just see me?” he muttered. After a few moments he glanced over apprehensively, just to be sure, and observed that the man was currently stripping off his jacket, the black cotton pooling around his broad shoulders before pulling it off and laying it neatly on the bed. Surely, Charles thought, if he noticed he would have shut the curtain. The man started to unbutton his white shirt, and the professor eagerly snapped the binoculars to his eyes once more.
With an experienced flick of slender fingers, the cream colored buttons were released one by one. A pale chest, lightly haired, came into view, the pectorals prominent. A strip of flesh soon followed, the stomach taut and defined, looking more likely to be curved into a Greek statue than a man. Charles mouth began to grow dry, and without really thinking, he set his pen to an empty page of his journal and began to scribble down notes.
Spotted Tuesday, 9:20 PM: Man expressing green eyes, prominent mandible, height nearing six foot?
Prominent mandible didn’t really do the man’s smooth jaw line, which Charles suddenly had the urge to lick, justice. But in observations it was always best to be clear and concise. And that’s just what this was, an observation, really nothing more.
His unsuspecting neighbor turned his back to the window, a beautiful band of flesh that curved towards his hips, unmarked, the muscles shifting beneath smooth skin as he slid off his shirt. His arms had thick, taut wires of muscle, his trousers were now riding low, allowing for the sight of a sharp line of hipbones, and the tempting curve of magnificent glutes…
Charles began writing once more.
Portrays light muscle definition, lean build.
And, though it truly was more of a fact than opinion, he added-
Shorthand – Subject is dastardly good looking.
The man placed the shirt, now neatly folded, onto his bed. His hands went to his belt, and it took Charles a few seconds to snap to what was happening. After a few dazed blinks he shot out of his chair and hurriedly shut his curtains, clutching them tightly closed.
Bloody hell, this was not a nature show! He had just taken a gander in someone’s house, watched him undress, like some kind of stalker. He must be going mad without having someone to bang for all these months. Sexual frustration really was getting the worse of him.
Charles closed his journal and rubbed his eyes, shame making him lethargic. There was no way he was going to do that again.
“I’m not saying that you have to get out more… actually, that is exactly what I’m saying. Charles, you need to get out more!” Raven sipped her cosmopolitan before threatening, “If you don’t do something soon I’m going to take you out dancing with my friends.”
“Dancing? What people do in New York clubs is not what I, or any proper English gentleman, would call dancing,” Charles said dryly.
She gave his sarcasm a pout. “Come on, it could be fun. You just have to give it a try. You’re going to lose all of your sex appeal if you continue to be a hermit,” she needled.
“Oh, I don’t think I need any help in that area.” Damn, when Raven started on his current relationship status-happily single-she tended to go to lecture mode. He was quick to get her off the scent. “In fact, I haven’t heard much about your love life. Want me to give you a few tips?” he teased.
She crinkled her nose. “No thank you, I’m doing just fine without.”
“I’m always willing to share,” he started nonchalantly, but with a second thought to her sentence he looked at her pointedly. “And what do you mean, doing just fine without? Is there someone I should know about?” His big brother senses were on full alert.
“It’s just this guy at work,” she replied in a pointedly bored manner, swirling the straw in her rosy drink. “Nothing to write home about. He’s the only one doing the flirting now. Kind of annoying, actually, but I can’t exactly tell him off since he’s the one who hired me.”
Charles’ fashion crazed sister had entered New York with the hopes of landing a job designing high end clothing, but after weeks of not even an internship she had turned to other clothing industries. Her current position was a desk job in a well-known suit company, working in the women’s department. She claimed that it would be a great resume builder, and if she could get into the designing section it would be hard to beat experience. It was far from working with the glamorous dresses she would clip out of magazines and post on her bedroom wall though. He wanted nothing but to show support, but she had given up so much for this dream. He just didn’t want her to lose sight of it.
There were a lot of things that had changed about Raven since she came to New York though, and Charles wasn’t sure he liked any of it. Her jacket, for example, from a designer that she could barely pronounce, was reportedly more expensive than a month of her rent. Not that she paid much for rent, given her run down apartment. Of course she had adamantly denied all his attempts to get her to room with him, going on about not needing her big brother to watch over her, which was complete rubbish.
This restaurant was another show of it, some high-end establishment that had the word organic and locally grown plastered all over the menu with a price tag to prove it. Sure that meant that the waiters were attractive enough to flirt with-maybe even take home under different circumstances-but that didn’t mean that it was within his or Raven’s budget. But she had insisted, and he couldn’t deny her anything, and so here they were, enduring insufferably slow service and appallingly small serving sizes. He’d have to grab something on the way home.
“Should I have a talk with him?” Charles asked with a solemn frown. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d find the need to give some punk a warning against continuing unwanted advances towards his sister.
Usually Raven would laugh when he offered such things, pretend that she was embarrassed, but he had known-and not just because he was good at reading people-that she was always secretly pleased that he showed such caring. It had been a cornerstone of their relationship for years.
But now she just glared at him. “I don’t need you making a mess of things. Azazel will get the hint sooner or later, and it’ll take care of itself.”
He kept his disheartened feelings at bay, and instead asked, “Azazel? Doesn’t that sound a bit too… demonic, for modern times?” Raven may think she didn’t need her big brother, but it wouldn’t hurt to do a little reconnaissance.
She waved a flippant hand. “His mom was Russian and eccentric apparently.”
“Sounds like you know quite a bit about him,” he noted suspiciously, eyes narrowing.
Ah-ha. He finally got her to look flustered. His little sister was still in there somewhere apparently. “We may have gone for drinks a few times…”
He raised an eyebrow. “I do believe that’s called leading a man on.” Which was a very dangerous thing to do, especially with a man who you hadn’t even introduced to your brother.
She puckered her lips in annoyance, but conceded with, “Fine, look, if you’re really that worried I’ll tell my boss if he keeps it up much longer. The guy may be a hard ass, but he’s pretty serious about keeping his employees safe, and even Azazel won’t go against him.”
Charles still wanted to burst into her office Monday and tell off this character himself, but there was a day when birds had to fly off from the nest, no pun intended. “Fine, but you must tell me if anything like this happens again.” He put his hand atop of hers and gave her a tepid smile. “I don’t mean to fret, but I do worry about you.”
She smiled back hesitantly. “I know, I know. I worry about you too. Go out more, okay? Find someone that ‘catches your eye’ to ‘chat up’ like you use to,” she ribbed.
Halfway there, he thought.
Friday, 9:15 PM: Subject has already changed into grey fitted T and black boxers, most likely in preparation for bed.
So he had a few sips of scotch. It wasn’t because he was feeling lonely, it was the weekend damn it. He deserved to loosen up. If he were at Oxford he’d be in the pub with a few mates, chatting up whatever dame or gent caught his eye that night. American equivalent? Get a bit smashed at home and write observation notes on his ridiculously good-looking neighbor. In fact-
Oddity – Eye color has changed from green to blue since last observation.
Had he noted wrong last time? It was a brief glance; he could have mistaken the man’s eyes for green. But it somehow sat odd with him.
Said man was currently lying in bed on top of the covers. He turned on the telly-angled just perfectly so that Charles could watch right along- and flipped through channels idly.
“Hello, hello,” Charles said, adjusting his binocular lenses for more clarity, curious to see what sort of shows his mystery neighbor enjoyed.
The screen stopped on a familiar documentary, the one creating background noise in his own apartment. With only a moment’s delay to allow his jaw to snap shut, he dutifully jotted down-
Subject enjoys watching True Shocking Stories of Russian Chess Masters; further data is needed to see if playing the game is an activity he engages in.
There was a slight delay from his television sound to his neighbor’s screen. “A lifelong Communist, Mikhail Botvinnik held the World Championship on and off for 15 years, from 1948 to 1963 when he was eventually defeated,” the narrator intoned.
The man leaned back against his headboard, arms crossed, with an attentive look on his face.
Charles licked his lips, the alcohol stinging his tongue lightly. “What do you know, a man after my own heart.” He gave the man a silent toast with a nod of his head before downing the remaining scotch.
He bit back a cough and slammed the glass down before returning the binoculars to his eyes. So, Mister-I-Like-Chess was a stay at home on a Friday man too? Perhaps they could start an exclusive club. Though, to be honest, the only thing he could imagine in ways of activities would be…
Well, the man’s bed for example. Charles smiled mischievously. Clean-cut corners, crisp sheets; far too neat for his taste. He preferred organized chaos. Last time Raven had tried to tidy up his apartment he couldn’t find anything for days. The only good thing about a neat room was making it messy.
And that would be easy. Pushing the man on the bed with a gentle shove. Grabbing those boxers and slowly pulling them down, allowing the other to feel Charles’ fingernails scrape lightly down his hips. Taking that cock-as of yet unseen, but a few more observations could change that-and giving it a sloppy, long lick. And, if experience was anything to draw from, the man would clutch those cream colored sheets, yanking them right out of their confined edges.
And those overstuffed pillows. Four, really, who needed such a number? Three would have to go to the floor when things really started. For a good bang only one was really needed, the one beneath Charles chest as the other man ravaged him from behind, thrusting forward over and over in that sweet rhythm of hips. He’d take that pristine white pillowcase and cover it with sweat, spit, and…
“Nothing that would stain,” he purred to the window.
And, really now, it had been a long time because he was suddenly feeling an impact from the- not fantasies, no- the musings, because they were really nothing more than that. Surprising, that it took this little to start to grow erect.
Maybe Raven was right. Maybe he did need to go out more, if this is what he had been reduced to. He put down the binoculars and willed himself to calm down, counted down from the 10, because he wasn’t going to go so far as to masturbate to his neighbor watching a documentary. He wasn’t going to lose that semblance of self-control.
“Charles’-Only-Friend is looking pretty brown,” said Raven as she tenderly lifted a wilted leaf.
“I asked you not to call it that, and it’s doing just fine.” Well, perhaps a bit more crumpled than last week, Charles had to admit. “I’ll go fetch some water for it. Don’t touch my notes, I’ve just organized them the way I like.”
Raven gave him an incredulous raise of her meticulously plucked eyebrow. “You mean the pile of papers thrown on your desk? I suppose I’ll have to take your word for it.”
Charles didn’t grace the comment with a reply and instead went to fill whatever clean mug he could find with some tap water for his plant. Raven had given him a spray bottle for it but he had misplaced it as of late. He was sure it would pop up eventually. He topped the mug, turned back to Raven, and promptly nearly dropped it when he found her staring out the window with his binoculars.
“What are you doing?” he cried out, slamming down the mug and rushing to his sister. “People could see you, Raven-!”
“Oh my god, Charles, Charles!” She waved her hand excitedly. “Did you know that my boss lives right across from you?”
“What?” He halted at the window. It could not, absolutely could not, possibly be the case, that Raven’s strict boss, who she constantly complained about could be... But one glance out the window proved that to be just the case. The man was currently parading around in his usual bedtime gear, a cotton T and boxer-briefs that showed certain- assets.
“Whoa, and do you ever have a nice view.” She adjusted the lens. “He may be a hard ass, but that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy it.” She turned her head to give Charles a wink.
“That doesn’t even make sense- Raven, please! Respect a man’s privacy, for God’s sake.” He snatched the binoculars from her hands.
She gave him a pair of cornflower blue puppy dog eyes. “You never have any fun Charles. Surely you would appreciate what a hot boss I have. He’s probably gay to boot.”
He smirked despite the blood pounding in his ears. “You mean he hasn’t flirted back?” This had always been Raven’s way of accepting his bisexuality, to make cheek and tongue jokes about it and prance around like she was the hottest thing around, but perhaps Charles was just good enough to take any boys she didn’t deem worthy. It would be annoying if he didn’t know that it was a facade she held, a barrier to protect her still budding self-image.
She rolled her eyes. “Like I said, gay.” She gave the window a wistful look. “Not that his super strict personality is exactly my type. He’s always ‘don’t mess up Raven’ and ‘don’t turn this in late Raven,’ but I guess he’s a pretty amazing guy all around.”
Charles didn’t think his personality was all that bad. It was kind of adorable, the way the man sorted his underwear drawer from white to grey to navy to black. And how he folded each piece of clothing after taking it off, despite placing it in the dirty hamper bin. And how he watched what others would consider ‘old man’ shows, like Antique Roadshow and chess documentaries. And how his closet was filled with nothing but business suits and one brown leather jacket that Charles had yet to see him wear.
He tuned back into Raven’s chatter.
“I mean, he did basically build the company up from the ground up. It was a mom and pop business until Erik Lehnsherr- that’s my boss by the way, I’m sure you’ve forgotten by this point- took it over and made it as high end as you can get with business suits, even expanding into the women’s market.”
Erik Lehnsherr. Finally a name for his new- no, not obsession, but- interest, yes that was it, his new interest. Apparently he was a very powerful man, the president of a suits company that was, in Raven’s words, the ‘new must have’ in the business world, and steadily climbing in sales every day.
But he was also the man who currently had sky blue curtains (if Charles was a vain man, he might even compare the color to his own eyes) with small brown sparrow silhouettes patterned over them, a new addition that seemed more, well, cute than Charles had given the man credit for being. But the gap between the stoic looks the man often had and such a spirited purchase made him all the more endearing.
“Fascinating,” Charles said once he realized Raven had stopped speaking.
Raven gave him a curious look. “It doesn’t exactly drive the point home that I should respect his privacy when you keep staring out the window, Charles.”
He jerked the curtains closed with an overly bright smile. “Oh, just looking at nothing.” Change topic, change topic. “Do you want to spend the night? It’s getting pretty late.”
“Yeah, that teacher shindig lasted longer than I thought it would.” Raven put her arm around his waist with a coy smile. “If you ever get sick of taking me as your date you can always ask Mr. Lehnsherr. I’m sure not even he could resist your pick up lines. You could probably spot a mutation or two, he’s got some pretty freaky eyes-”
Charles tickled her side and she squealed and stepped away. “My pick up lines have a pretty good success rate young miss, you best show some respect.”
“Oh yes. Mutation took us from single-celled organisms,” she teased, mimicking his accent, “to being the dominant form of reproductive life on this planet. Infinite forms of- do not tickle me again, Charles!”
Wednesday, 8:43 PM: The first sighting of subject fully unclothed, post shower. Thigh muscles well toned, may show signs of jogging? Hipbones prominent and masculine. Subject’s-
Now, what word should he use for it? Penis? True, these were observations, but calling it something so clinical seemed far too cold hearted for such personal notes. Manhood? Really, was he a shrinking violet all of the sudden? It wasn’t as if he was writing some sort of flowery romance novel. No, really, there was no way to get around that it was a long, massive-
Subject’s cock is well above average in size.
And Charles should know; he had seen quite a few. And though it was a stereotype that Germans were bigger, he had no idea such remarks held truth. Charles should have taken the time to travel to the country when it was only a skip and a hop away…
Oddity Continued- Subjects eyes now appear to be solid grey. Eyes seem to switch periodically from blue, green, and grey. No signs of contact use.
Truly a marvel of science and human genetics.
The man’s- oh, wait, Erik wasn’t it? Because we’re quite past the point of being on a first name basis, Charles mused to himself. Erik’s skin was flushed pink in a post shower hue. His hair was still damp, but he had long since forgone a towel, much to Charles’ delight. And everything was suddenly on display, a buffet of flesh and muscle for the professor’s eyes to devour, taking in every turn and flex with eagerness.
Eagerness that was suddenly turning hot and hard in his trousers, and oh bother.
“Not this again,” Charles hissed. Lately it seemed he couldn’t keep these observations professional. And it wasn’t like he wasn’t already wanking off every night, thinking of the man in a cornucopia of sexual fantasies. And really, it was just immature and disgusting, the thought of beating one out while still on the clock.
Resolutely ignoring his rising desire, he determinately placed the binoculars up to his eyes, only to almost drop them as he caught sight of Erik’s newest activity. The man was currently lying on his bed and fisting his now deliciously hard cock. It was almost too much, the first night seeing Erik fully naked, and now to have something Charles could only have imagined play out in real time. Long, pale fingers rubbing up and down the red, sensitive flesh. The man’s thighs tightening, the muscles rippling, his stomach taunt. His back curved upwards as he rode out his own pleasure.
Very similar, Charles couldn’t help but think as he unzipped his trousers, as if the man was being ridden. And, oh god, did Charles want to ride him. He could slide up and down that length of cock all night, pushing against those firm abdominal muscles, straining up and down as he matched Erik’s thrust. And with those muscles they would be very powerful thrusts indeed.
He stumbled for the lotion he kept in a desk drawer. He briefly wondered what brand Erik was using.
Even if the man was clueless to how to give Charles pleasure, the professor very much knew how to take it for himself; just what way to position himself, to line any man’s cock up to hit that sweet spot again and again. He had worked with much less in the past. It wouldn’t be hard to find pleasure in that long band of flesh.
Charles’ strokes began to grow frantic, the scent of musk and lotion filling the air. Yes, this smell, the smell of sex. It would smell so much stronger once they really got going, once the sheen of sweat pearled along the man’s skin, glistening as the city lights shone through the blinds. His hair would dampen with it, the contours of his neck pooling with the salty liquid, just perfectly placed for Charles to lap it up with a broad stroke of tongue. The idea of licking off every bead of sweat and cum, and maybe even tears, because it was not odd for one Charles Xavier to give a man such pleasure as to bring him to tears, and oh god he was almost there, almost there, and a quick glance at the man showed Erik to be almost there too.
Just one more thing, to bring him over the edge. Sound- god, it was too quiet in his apartment. He began to flick his wrist in just the right way, just the right way to take him to that brink. Yes, it was always loud, once you really start going. The pounding of skin against skin as their bodies collided, and sweet slick as pre-cum began to make things even more slippery. Heavy breathing that would soon turn into moans, and fuck, he bit his lip to keep himself from crying out again. Incoherent babbling was always popular, but a man who really knew what he was doing, with skill and finesse to match Charles’ own, he would just find it in him to call out the professor’s name. And though Charles had never heard that man’s voice, it wasn’t hard to find a memory, or perhaps a fabrication, of a gravely voice with a steel edge.
Oh god, Charles.
No, it really wasn’t difficult at all, to imagine the man calling out Charles name as pleasure surged from their spines, heat pooling upwards.
“Erik,” he muttered, eyes now tightly closed in concentration, unable to help himself from calling out quietly, “oh god, harder, I’m almost there.”
Charles opened his eyes just in time to catch sight of Erik throwing back his head in wordless ecstasy, releasing himself all over his stomach, the white cum lying against the pink flesh. The sight was just enough to send the professor over the edge, folding inwards as he reached the brink and experienced the most pleasurable orgasm he had in weeks, if not months, moaning softly as he caught the liquid in a handy tissue.
He slumped back into the chair and breathed heavily, his chest rising up and down as he calmed himself. He wiped off his hand with only a tinge of guilt, because really, there was nothing to be all that ashamed about. It wasn’t as if the man knew what was going on. Charles was just enjoying the sight, really nothing more then that. No harm, no foul.
He took his clean hand, and thank god for being ambidextrous, picked up the pen and wrote his last observation for the night.
Wednesday, 8:49 PM: Subject masturbated after showering, perhaps a habit? More observation is needed to confirm.
And, as always, the professor didn’t mind doing a little extra work to solve a thesis. He wiped his lotion covered hand and picked up his binoculars for one more look see before bed. Erik’s back was turned to him and the man had already put on pants –bugger –and was currently pulling down a black turtleneck that Charles had never seen him wear before, and that was quite a shame because it fit him so snugly and really showed off his long torso.
It was lucky that Charles was an observational man, because it would have been quite easy to be so caught up in staring at the way Erik’s slacks showed off his ass and not notice the man turning his head towards Charles and making what could only be described as eye contact. Only, no, it couldn’t be eye contact, because the man was smiling broadly now in a way that really warranted a commercial for shark week, and there was no way the man could have noticed Charles and be happy about it. It wasn’t until Erik winked that Charles dropped his binoculars to his desk and shut the curtains with a snap.
Charles was definitely breaking out in a cold sweat, which just didn’t happen to the always cool professor who took grad school exams with a smile and the rare rejection with a laugh. Bile seemed to line his stomach, a heavy blackness which twisted and squeezed and oh god, oh god, Erik knew that he had watched him.
This is the type of thing that people got arrested for Charles, never mind losing their job and all public respect! The man just had to make one phone call and coppers would be knocking on the door of his flat within minutes. Why didn’t he just watch porn like a normal person? This is why they invented the Internet! Forget porn, why didn’t he just get laid? Americans were supposed to be easier than Brits, and he was in the hotbed of homosexual expression, he could have had a plethora of both gender partners. And he was almost certain he could have found someone as good looking as Erik- well, perhaps not someone so exactly his type, but good looking enough!
And oh god, what was he saying. He was becoming a git, thinking that porn and sex was his problem. New York wasn’t any different from London, Americans were no different from anyone else. It was he who had changed. Coming to New York may have been the catalyst, but there was something deeper in why he had started to stay at home rather than circulate the city.
Charles rubbed his eyes with shaking fingers, the lotion causing them to stick lightly. He was really, for certain, screwed. His wanton ways had finally caught up to him, but not in the way he originally thought. He was sick of being happily single, and it had all manifested itself into one obsession.
Maybe Raven is right, Charles thought, desperate for any sign of hope. Maybe he is gay, and was actually turned on by me watching him…
He couldn’t help but sigh. Who was he kidding? Luck like that just didn’t happen.
“Yes, Raven. Yes, I’m doing well. I took today off too, but I thought since the weekend starts tomorrow I might as well rest for a while longer.” Charles tapped his pen absently on the pile of quizzes he had yet to start grading. “No, no, don’t come over. I don’t want you to catch it. That’s the only reason I didn’t go to the University, I didn’t want the students to catch anything. I’m really feeling quite well. It’s just a cold.”
“Yes, about that.” He stroked a wrinkled leaf with a forlorn finger, sad that he didn’t think to take better care of his plant companion. “I don’t know if it’s going to make it. I tried watering it more lately, and I even bought some special fertilizer for it, but it’s pretty far gone.” A snicker escaped him. “No, I will not hold a funeral for it when it dies. And I most certainly do not need a tombstone, but thank you for the offer to make me one.”
“I’ll try to get lots of rest. I’m serious about not coming to see me, I really don’t need you getting sick. I thought you had a big project that you were working on? You don’t need another excuse to not complete it.” A smirk. “No, I don’t think you would try to weasel your way out of it, at least not intentionally.” He held the phone away from his ear, squinting as her voice roared over the phone. “Will you look at the time? I really should be heading off to bed. I am sick and all that. Lots of love Raven, work hard. No, I am not implying that you don’t already.”
Charles clicked to disconnect, frowning as he did so. He really did hate lying to his sister, and his work for that matter, but he was in no state to be molding minds. How was he supposed to look his class in the eye after performing such actions? It was shocking that he hadn’t felt guilt earlier, given his nighttime obsession. That, and he was still waiting to see if the man was going to call the police. There was no way he was going to be arrested on school grounds. It had been two days though, so hopefully the man’s pride had over come his anger of being somewhat stalked.
Of course, there was the wink to consider, Charles thought to himself as he began to check off wrong answers, for once not caring that his class was starting to steadily improve their marks. Perhaps Raven hadn’t been to far in her tongue in cheek assumptions? There was very little else he could think of to discredit that wink, except perhaps the man had felt embarrassed and wanted to feel in control of the situation.
And really, how vain could Charles get? Did he really think he was so attractive that he could make men swoon just from the viewpoint of his window? Even if his neighbor was gay, and thus had felt the comfort to wink, what sort of man got off on being watched? Perhaps the perfect match for a man who got off watching, he couldn’t help but think, and there he was again, going in circles.
He was so caught up contemplating how likely he was to be arrested, and if he should give partial credit for naming seven of the nine stages of Meiosis, that it wasn’t until the third buzz that he realized his doorbell was being rung. He gave the door a small scowl. If this was Raven after he had told her not to come… He considered not answering and letting her leave, but knew that she had a key and would most likely use it, if nothing but to make sure he was still breathing, or some rubbish excuse like that.
“One minute!” he called out, standing up and grooming his frown into a relaxed smile. It could easily be a marketer or neighbor who just wanted a quick word, so there was no need to put them off by glaring at them the minute he opened the door. He would save that, along with a hefty lecture of going out in New York at night, for his sister. Charles opened the door quickly.
“I’m sorry I kept-”
The words turned to dust in his mouth as he caught sight of the man at his doorstep, because standing in front of him was none other than the neighbor who he had spent two days, and, if he were to be completely honest, several weeks, thinking about non stop.
“Hello,” said the man with a strained smile. “My name is Erik Lehnsherr.”
I know, Charles thought, but kept that tidbit to himself. “Oh, hello,” he said instead, quickly exchanging his wide eyes and open mouth for a casual grin. “I’m Charles Xavier.”
The professor tended to pride himself on reading people, and though he would not call Erik an open book, he could almost sense the man mirroring Charles thoughts of familiarity. Which would make a lot of sense, because Charles was well known around his apartment building as the charming Brit who lived in 508, and if the man was going to file a police report he would probably want a name and location to match the profile.
So obviously that was why the man was here, to make sure that he wasn’t about to call the police without accidentally embarrassing some poor chap who happened to live in Charles’ building and also had chestnut brown hair and pale skin, or something like that, and Charles had just confirmed his name like an absolute twit, and it had been a nice run in New York but he supposed that every crime must have a punishment.
The one thing he could do to possibly stop the man now was to somehow charm his way out of it. That was the only thing he could do to save himself from humiliation and possible incarceration, not to mention how embarrassed his sister would be to find out her brother was a criminal- Raven! Oh no, this was her boss, why hadn’t he thought of that before? It wouldn’t be odd at all to be fired because she was connected to him, and now he absolutely had to talk his way out of this, there was no way he was going to let his stupid mistake make a mess of his sister’s dreams.
As the awkward silence pooled around the both of them, and with Charles busy looking anywhere but his neighbor and thinking of a way out of this, it was actually Erik who spoke up first.
“I was just wondering if I could borrow a cup of sugar.” Erik lifted a glass measuring cup up awkwardly.
Charles thoughts grinded to a halt. Of all of the possible excuses for coming to his door, this was what the man had come up with? “What do you need a cup of sugar for?” he couldn’t help but ask in his surprise.
This sent Erik for a loop. The man stood there for a few seconds, seemingly to scan his mind for all possible uses of sugar. “I’m… I’m baking a cake.”
The thought of the man in an apron, happily frosting, was almost enough to make Charles laugh. “Oh? And what’s the special occasion?” he impulsively teased.
Erik looked even more panicked. “My- well- there’s a birthday in my office tomorrow, and I thought it would be nice.”
“To bake them an entire cake?” Charles smile grew wider. “Is this a customary practice, in your workplace?” Almost unfair, that he had the inside information to know that Erik didn’t even leave his office when such celebrations occurred. Raven had complained about it enough.
Erik grew more flustered. “Not exactly. I’ve just observed around the office that morale has been low lately-”
“Let’s not beat around the bush, Mr. Lehnsherr.” Charles suddenly sobered to the situation at hand, though he valiantly didn’t lose his smile. How could he possibly lose sight of what was happening so quickly? Erik was just too awkwardly charming for his own good. “I’m well aware of why you’re here.”
“You are?” The man sounded genuinely surprised.
“It’s about the other night, I’m fairly certain.”
“Oh.” Erik coughed into his fist. “Then, about that-”
“And I just wanted to say that it’ll never happen again. And I’m sincerely sorry for ever doing something like that in the first place.”
“You… you are?”
Charles just couldn’t bring himself to meet Erik’s eye. “It wasn’t what it appeared to be. I was just fooling around with my binoculars, trying to find some pigeons. I never meant to look through your window, and I can assure you it was only for a brief moment.”
“But you’ve been looking through my window for weeks.”
Fuck. There was absolutely no way to lie his way out of this. Okay, though it wasn’t really his style, Charles Xavier knew when it was time to beg. And really, the look of desperation now plastered on his face? Completely authentic.
Charles clasped his hands in front of him. “Please Mr. Lehnsherr, you don’t understand. I have a sister and a reputation and I’m terribly, terribly sorry for all of this. I swear to you, I’ll-I’ll move. Immediately. I’ll give my two weeks notice to the apartment manager tonight. I’m so, so terribly sorry for all this-”
Erik grabbed Charles hands and looked him straight in the eye. “I’m not.”
It took Charles a moment to remember how to speak. “I beg your pardon, but what?”
“I’m not sorry that you’ve been watching me. I wanted you to. Actually it excited me, having you watch me.” Erik’s eyes, which Charles noted were not grey, blue or green, but really all three colors mixed together in bursts, were fixed evenly on his own. His voice no longer held a hint of hesitation, and his jaw was set stubbornly.
Charles was suddenly very, very perplexed. “You knew about it, and you wanted it to happen?”
Erik nodded eagerly. “Yes, of course. That night when you watched me masturbate, I had never felt anything like that before.”
And suddenly Charles was aware that they had been having this conversation across his open door, and that he had neighbors who were not, as much as he wanted them to be at the moment, deaf. “Won’t you come in?” He grabbed hold of Erik’s arm and yanked him inside, shutting the door quickly.
To have the object of his desire smack dab in his living room was quite a sight to behold. Not that, generally, they wore clothes when Charles ran this scenario. Unless, of course, you counted his newfound suit kink, emphasis placed on how much fun it would be to take Erik’s off. But his neighbor wasn’t wearing a suit tonight, just casual slacks and turtleneck, along with a brown leather jacket that Charles had hung up in the closet.
Erik was still sitting stiffly on the sofa, his measuring cup placed on the end table, when Charles walked in with two cups of tea.
“Milk, sugar?” he asked.
Charles poured some milk for the both of them and added sugar to Erik’s. He had thought it might seem forward to offer the man liquor, but few people could find insult in tea. Erik picked up his own cup and took a sip.
“So how long have you known I was watching you?” Charles had yet to drink and was starring down at his cup.
The man took a moment to think. “I don’t know how long you’ve been watching me, but I noticed it a few weeks ago. I think it was a Tuesday, around 9 or 10.”
Good memory. “I think that’s the first night then.” He could always check his observation journal to see if that was true, but no need to show Erik all of his dirty little secrets. “To be honest, I thought you had seen me, but since you didn’t stop undressing I thought I had been mistaken…”
Erik gave a sly smile. “I thought I might as well give you a show, since you were looking for one.”
Slightly irritated, Charles gave a sullen frown. “I wasn’t trying to peep at anyone that night, Mr. Lehnsherr. It was just a coincidence of fate that you happened to be undressing at the time.”
“Yes, fate.” Erik took another swig of tea, and muttered, “And I’m sure it was fate when you watched me all those nights afterwards too…”
Charles put his cup down with a sharp clank. “I really don’t need you to make me feel more guilty than I already am. I know that what I did was a complete violation of your privacy, and that I’m a twat who doesn’t know when to stop-”
The man growled, effectively sending shivers down Charles’ spine. “I told you Professor, I didn’t want you to stop.”
“That’s not the point-” Charles gave the man a hard look. “How did you know I was a professor?”
Erik started to pick at the end of his sleeve. “Any man with a cardigan and an apartment full of books deserves to be called professor, Xavier.”
“But that’s not why you did it, is it?” Charles clasped his hands and leaned forward, suspicion lining his eyes. “You know I work as a Professor, and you somehow knew that before you even entered my apartment.”
The way the man averted his eyes confirmed the hunch to be truth.
“How do you know so much about me? Perhaps I’m not the only one doing a bit of recreational stalking,” Charles taunted with a slow smile.
“Your sister talks about you,” Erik admitted, running his finger along his cup’s edge, and he did have very slender, long fingers, quite different from the short and thick ones Charles had.
“Oh.” Well, that was a startling development. “I didn’t know you were that close to my sister.” Raven had never let slip anything to that nature. If anything, Charles had assumed the contrary.
“We aren’t. To be honest I don’t usually talk much to the employees, except for the occasionally pep talk or reprimand. Your sister just happens to need an abundant amount of both.”
Charles shifted in his seat. “Is she struggling? She’s very new to the industry, so I worry about her abilities from time to time.”
“She’s one of the best employees I have,” Erik answered solemnly. “She just doesn’t have the confidence to put her on the next level yet.”
“Yes, she’s always been like that. Confidence doesn’t come easy to her.”
"But confidence comes easy to you?"
Charles paused for a moment. “I don’t quite know how you made that assumption, Mr. Lehnsherr.”
“Please, call me Erik.” The man was grinning again. “I just wouldn’t think, given that you suspected me of being upset with you watching me, most men would flirt in that situation.”
“Call me Charles then. And if we’re making assumptions based off of first appearances, Erik, I suppose I can assume you don’t have the most abundant of imaginations. Or did you actually think asking for sugar was an original thought?”
“Sometimes you have to stick with the classics, Charles.”
“Well now you’ve gotten me off on a tangent, because I was going to ask you how you heard about me, if you aren’t that close to my sister.”
Erik took another few seconds to gather his thoughts. “She talks about you nonstop, though I don’t think she notices. Such as how she was late one morning because you distracted her with some new genetics breakthrough during breakfast. Or how she had meant to finish her report, but she was on the phone with you all night, trying to convince you to go out more. Or how she knew that personal plants weren’t allowed in the office, but she had seen it during lunch break and though that it would fit your apartment nicely and give you some company.”
“I sound like quite a bore, when you put it like that.”
“Not at all. I thought you sounded too charming to be real.”
And I thought you looked too charming to be real. What a match. “That still doesn’t explain it, how you knew who I was. Unless Raven keeps pictures of me on her desk?” Again, what a cheater. He knew that the office didn’t allow personal photographs, another thing Raven had complained about.
“No, I didn’t see your picture. I met you once.”
The professor blinked sharply. “Met me? I’m sorry, but I think I would remember if we had.”
“I was wearing sunglasses and a large coat at the time, and it was late at night.”
Charles rested his chin on his hand. “This didn’t happen in a dark alley, did it?”
Erik let loose another smile. “I was bringing Raven to my house after a company get together.”
“I really hope this isn’t leading to a certain direction,” Charles interrupted, eyes narrowed.
The man waved his hand. “No, nothing like that. She had gotten drunk and didn’t know anyone in the office that well. I was the only one sober enough to offer her my couch for the night, since she couldn’t even remember her address at the moment. And that’s when you happened to spot us on the street.”
“Yes, of course. I remember now…”
And he did. Barely a week in the States, not even fully unpacked yet, and he finds his sister on his way back from the convenience mart, stumbling around with a tall chap in useless sunglasses and a black, long coat, despite it being August.
Charles chuckled. “It’s no wonder I didn’t properly introduce myself then. I thought you were an over confident wanker who was trying to fuck my sister.”
“I was wondering why you were brash at the time. That’s quite an assumption to make, given we had just met.”
“Well I think you’ve been making quite a few assumptions about me, so we can call it even.”
“Oh?” Erik leaned forward, his eyes intent. “And have I been incorrect with said assumptions?”
Charles looked upwards, as if in thought. “Well, let’s see. You called me charming.”
“You’ve yet to prove me wrong,” the man was quick to point out.
“I’ll do my best to uphold that then. You believe me to be intelligent, I’m assuming?” Charles stood from his seat and moved around the table towards Erik.
Erik followed the professor’s movements with his eyes. “Given your profession, I can only come to that conclusion.”
Charles sat next to his neighbor on the couch. “Oh, you haven’t met enough professors then. I’m quite the top of my line.”
“And there you prove another assumption I have of you.” Erik smirked. “Confidence.”
Charles leaned forward and placed his hand on the other man’s arm. “Well, we have that in common then, don’t we?”
“Yes, I would say we do.” And with that Erik kissed him.
“What I don’t understand,” Erik muttered between kisses, “is why you talked so long before this.”
Charles had never been happier to be lying on his bed right now, which had quite a bit to do with the man currently looming over him. “I needed to find out how you knew about me, that’s all.”
“The only thing keeping me from your bed was your curiosity?” Erik smiled as he shook his head. “Amazing.”
“I’ve wanted to have sex with you the moment I saw you.” Soft blue eyes looked up longingly. “Wasn’t it the same with you?”
Erik leaned down and kissed the side of Charles’ neck. “Are you trying to seduce me, Professor?”
Charles eyes became half lidded as he stretched his neck, as if offering it to the other man. “I was quite sure I had already succeeded in that.”
“Oh?” Erik gave the pale neck a nip. “I had the notion you thought I was upset with you. For watching me, these past few weeks.”
“All the evidence now points towards a successful seduction.” Charles arched his back as his neighbor bit his neck again, harder. “Quite an easy victory on my part.”
Erik ran his nose along Charles’ skin, moving upwards until his lips were pressed against the professor’s ear. He gave that a playful bite as well, and then whispered, “Well there’s no fun in that.”
Charles blinked as the warm heat above him melted away. He stretched his hands out to try to catch hold of Erik’s shirt, but the man had already slipped by him and headed towards the doorway.
“Erik?” Charles called out confused. “Where are you going?”
His heart began to race as he sat up, prepared to follow his neighbor out into the living room when Erik walked back in, pushing Charles’ office chair in front of him.
“Don’t get up.” Erik’s voice was like poisoned honey. “I just needed someplace to sit.”
“Do you not want to do it on the bed then?” Charles asked lightheartedly, though his pulse hadn’t quite settled yet.
“No, that’s not it at all.” Erik took a seat, turning the ragged chair into a throne as he leaned back with all the confidence of a king. “I’m going to sit here, that’s all.”
“And I can’t get up?” Charles already had a notion of the answer.
Erik was staring again, those intense eyes brooding, the lamp casting them in shadow. “I want you to take off your shirt, Professor.”
It felt like Charles heart skipped a beat at that sentence. Heat was pulsing through him, threading through his veins in golden strands. His fingertips grasped at the bed covers, and it was all he could do to stop from squirming under Erik’s gaze. He found himself obeying without hesitation, quickly stripping off his cardigan and throwing it to the floor. He moved his hands to the collar buttons on his dress shirt, his fingers near shaking in excitement, before snapping to the situation at hand. He was Charles Xavier, the Charles Xavier, and he was acting like a schoolboy in front of his first partner. That, obviously, would not do.
Taking a deep breath, he allowed his mind to calm and his fingers to settle before slowly undoing each button. He peered towards Erik through dark eyelashes in a way that he knew would make him seem coy. There was no shame in the way he slowly undid each button, or the way he slowly lifted it over his head. He may not have Erik’s muscle tone, but his own broad shoulders and lean torso had never garnered a complaint before. Especially when matched up with his own baby blues, which he was damn well using to his benefit.
“Done.” Leaning back on the bad nonchalantly, Charles then asked, “Next request?”
Erik’s voice rumbled from his chest. “Now I want you to touch yourself.”
It didn’t take a mind reader to see that one coming. Still, Erik had mentioned putting on a show. Wasn’t it only polite for Charles to do the same? The professor unzipped his trousers with a little care, unembarrassed by his growing erection, and glanced over to Erik who was- naturally- in a similar state. He licked his bottom lip in anticipation of what was to come, and the thought alone was enough to make sure his cock sprang from his boxers as he pushed them down.
Countless times he had preformed this action. In his bed, rubbing his cock to torrid fantasies, the cold feel of his hand against heated flesh. But it was different with an audience. Each pinpoint of Erik’s gaze seemed to send sparks along his skin, as if magnified under a glass. The thought of someone else getting off to each action he did gave Charles a shot of elation.
It was almost too much to take. “Erik, please, stop staring at me.” With each silky pull Charles felt himself growing hotter under the man’s heated stare.
Erik smirked. “And I suppose you haven’t been doing the same, these past few weeks? You’ve already started, Professor. You might as well continue.”
The professor bit his lip. Damn, it almost sounded like he was pleading with the man. Charles Xavier did not beg, he made men beg. Cocking his head to the side, he allowed his voice to fill with longing. “But I’m so lonely, doing it by myself. Don’t you want to help me?”
Charles couldn’t help but smile as he saw the contemplation in his neighbor’s eyes.
“Fine,” Erik conceded. “Since you’ve been so cooperative with me, I suppose I can give you a little treat.”
It was all he could do but laugh in victory as Erik stood up and began to walk towards the bed.
“Oh no, Erik,” Charles couldn’t help but hum, holding up a hand to stop the man’s advancement. “It’s not very fair, me being the only one in this state of dress.”
“I would think you’ve had enough of me stripping?”
“You could call it a hobby at this point.”
Without another word, Erik peeled the black turtleneck from his torso and threw it to join Charles’ cardigan and undershirt. Though it was really nothing that Charles hadn’t seen before, the professor couldn’t help but still appreciate the masculine physique that was about to join him in bed. He had had handsome partners, yes, but there wasn’t one flaw that Charles could find in the man. A perfect specimen for any collector.
Erik began a slow crawl up the bed towards Charles, eyes still staring, mouth now set in a grim line. The professor’s breath caught as he soon felt Erik’s breath against his cock, and closed his eyes as he ran his fingers through the man’s coarse hair.
Erik was quick to grab hold of both of Charles’ hands, pinning them together with one hand, and growled, “Don’t.”
Charles blinked. “What? I was just-” The professor stifled a moan as Erik ran his hot tongue up Charles’ shaft. It wasn’t long before the man’s lips wrapped around the head of his cock and began to bob up and down, taking Charles’ length with skilled ease. The professor bit his cheek to keep from crying out at the sudden wet warmth flooding his senses, long swipes of tongue brushing against his sensitive flesh. He was trying hard not to call out that he didn’t have time to resist Erik leading his right hand downwards.
“What are you doing?” Erik pressed Charles' fingers against the professor's entrance. “I’m busy at the moment.” The man began to gently force the fingers inwards. “So you’ve got to loosen yourself up.”
Charles grabbed the lotion in his bedside dresser without even looking, applying them sloppily to his fingers. He then began to thrust his fingers, only two at first because it’d still been awhile, knowing it was going to take some time to prepare himself for what was to come. It was hard to keep calm and relax, however, when Erik was continuing his lavish fellatio.
“Would you let off?” Charles attempted to push back Erik’s head with his free hand, only to find the man’s grip still holding tight. “I’m not going to last long if you continue like that.” It had been a monument to his experience and endurance that he lasted this long.
Erik stopped his administrations with a hint of reluctance. “It’s fine if you come.”
“That would a be bit cruel, hmm? Making you wait while I rested for the next round. Besides, didn’t I tell you? I’ve wanted to fuck you since I first saw you. I had assumed the feeling was mutual.”
Erik’s frown deepened, but he offered Charles an open palm. “Give me that lotion then.”
After a quick application to his fingers, Erik took over the slow task of opening Charles up. Like most things in life, an extra pair of hands was always useful in the task, and in only a few tantalizing minutes Charles felt the confidence to say, only a little breathlessly, “Okay, I’m ready, I’m ready.”
Erik scrambled upwards, his rushed movements telling of the building excitement between them, static that sent warmth with every places their skin touched, his hand on Charles’ wrist, their chest crushing against each other, their lips as they crashed together in another heated kiss. Erik quickly unzipped his own pants and set upon rubbing the left over lotion along his cock to better prepare himself for Charles, grazing himself against the entrance.
“Wait, Erik, oh god.” And this was him talking. “You have to go slow, it’s been so long, and you’re so- so…” The words seemed to lump in his throat, and it was all he could do to grab hold of the subject of his desire, placing his hands on Erik’s neck and staring into those intense eyes that seemed to shift colors quicker in passion. “You have to go slow, okay?”
“Charles…” Erik seemed to more breathe the words than speak them. He began to tenderly kiss his newfound lover’s neck. “Relax. I won’t hurt you. I wouldn’t ever hurt you.”
The sincerity threading those words was almost frightening. Charles had to truly contemplate- he had barely spoken to this man, and yet there already seemed a deep trust building between the two. It wasn’t that he didn’t have the occasional one night stand, but somehow this felt different. Not just because he felt a deeper connection, what with all the watching and note taking he had preformed regarding his neighbor. Erik himself seemed to regard Charles as a precious thing, and the protectiveness emanating from the man’s eyes are almost hauntingly intense.
What have I gotten myself into?
Barely had the thought crossed his mind than he felt Erik begin to enter him, a slow stretch that ached in just the right way. Charles barely suppressed the moan that fluttered at his lips, holding back from sounding like a wanton novice. The man hadn’t even stuck it completely in and he was already feeling it- and oh god, there it went, that smooth slide of cock as it entered him fully, stretching him further then he had ever felt before.
“Thank god you weren’t my first,” Charles couldn’t help but mutter.
Erik went still in his arms.
Perhaps that wasn’t the smartest thing to say.
Suddenly Erik’s cock rocked back and forth with a sharp jerk of hips, causing Charles to be inched upwards on the bed. It was a motion too forceful to keep the professor from crying aloud.
“That isn’t what I would call not hurting me- ah!”
Erik began a quick pace, forcing himself into Charles again and again with powerful thrusts, too fast to really be called a rhythm of any sort. Inconsiderate, unneeded, and completely fevered in a way that no man had fucked Charles before. Despite the pain laced throb accompanying, it began to excite the professor.
Charles was breathing heavily now, gasps that could barely make way for conversation, but he somehow couldn’t help but egg Erik on further. “You didn’t think you were the first, did you?”
Erik’s pace quickened as he leaned down, bringing his lips to Charles’ ear. “I would stop while I’m ahead now, Professor.”
“Don’t like others touching your toys?” How unsightly for Charles to near purr the sentence as he wrapped his legs around the other man’s waist. “I would think it would be obvious, the way I went about toni-”
A particularly powerful thrust caused the sentence to be clipped short. “You’re mine now, Charles. No one else’s.”
Again, that possessiveness. The sense of confidence filling Erik’s words, that Charles had no choice but to obey. Even greater than the amazing cock filling him up, or the way that Erik had begun to angle himself to hit that certain spot that made Charles curl his toes. Too quickly, far too quickly for any sense of decency, Charles felt the slow build up along the base of his spine. The rough treatment at the hands of Erik was too much all at once, this long slide within him that thrust with a maddening beat. Too soon, Charles felt his cock aching for the touch that would bring it over the edge, a touch that he was too embarrassed and flustered to admit to, but wanted all the same.
As if he could sense this tension, Erik quickly grasped the wanting flesh and began to administer quick strokes with long fingers. “Go ahead,” he muttered in Charles’ ear. “Come for me.”
A biting remark clenched within his jaw, Charles could only give cry out as the man sent him to completion, the force of his orgasm causing him to arch upwards and tighten himself around Erik’s cock.
Erik grasped Charles’ wrist tighter. “Fuck!”
Suddenly warmth pooled inside Charles, pushed further within as Erik chased his own pleasure by giving a few snapping thrusts before being over come by exhaustion and flopping downwards. Both lay there for a few moments, huskily panting.
“I hope I lived up to your observations, Professor,” Erik wheezed, shifting so that he lay next to Charles, taking the shorter man into his arms.
“Well, as you should know, no good hypothesis is proved by only one successful test.” Charles snuggled in closer to what the man who he knew would be the end and the start of him. “But lucky for you, as a true man of science, I’m willing to conduct as many experiments as necessary.”
Erik’s laugh was almost as tantalizing as his moans.
Erik woke up later than usual, and thank god he had decided to seduce his neighbor on a Friday, or he would have a very awkward call to give his company, especially given that he was the president of it.
Charles was still asleep, and looking, quite frankly, adorable. Erik had always had a keen eye for things, whether it was possible employees or fresh produce, and potential lovers were no different. He was sure of it- he had finally found a gem.
It hadn’t been anything as over dramatic as love at first sight. Indeed, he would hardly call their first encounter romantic in any sense of the word. But even with the glaring city lights and a pair of sunglasses, Erik had seen what a beauty the professor was. And it had only taken a few prompts, barely noticeable to new employee Raven, to get a clear picture of what Charles was like.
Erik slowly moved his arm from under Charles’ head and got out of the bed. He headed towards the kitchen where he opened the fridge to find a pitcher of milk, and with a satisfied smirk he took a large gulp. Everything had gone according to plan, at least the important parts. He had slowly seduced Charles with his body, charmed him with conversation, and then gave the professor an unforgettable night in bed. There was nothing that could go wrong now.
The sound of a loud thunk caused Erik to glance behind himself. There, groceries scattered about her feet, stood a woman with wide eyes.
Erik gave a pained smile. “Hello Raven. How’s the project coming along?”