"We need your help," Charles, the very attractive man Erik happens to be fucking, says, putting down his pint glass.
"We've got a little bit of a problem," Raven, the equally lovely metamorph that Erik is also fucking, agrees.
Erik raises an eyebrow. "Oh?"
"You see," Charles says, leaning in, conspiratorially, "Raven and I have a little contest going."
"And we need a judge," Raven says.
"And you're the best candidate by far," Charles assures him.
Erik looks at them suspiciously. "What kind of contest is this?"
"We intend to find out," Charles says, "who exactly is the best Charles."
"We were going to see who could be the best Raven-" she says.
"-but that wouldn't really be a fair fight," Charles says. He waves a finger at Raven. "I've got some new ideas, though. We're going to pick that back up."
"Right," Raven says. "So, are you in?"
Erik just stares at them. "What, exactly, would I be signing up for? I mean, you turn into Charles, and I just look at the two of you?"
Charles and Raven share a smile. "Not exactly," Charles says. "That wouldn't be hard enough, now would it? We already know she can do that. I mean, when we were children, Raven would walk around as me all the time, and Mother never noticed." He looks at Raven. "I maintain, however, that that was an expression of her parenting style, not your abilities."
"There's got to be a challenge to it," Raven says, "or it's not really a contest."
"Yes, there's got to be some element of," Charles says, waving a hand, "tension. We have to put her through her paces."
"How do you propose we do that?" Erik asks, puzzled. "Do you want to spar or something?"
Raven grins, trailing her foot up the inside of Erik's calf. "No," Charles says, sliding his hand onto Erik's thigh.
"Oh," Erik says, looking at the two of them.
"So," Raven says, "are you in?"
Erik smirks. "I suppose I am."
"Some ground rules, before we begin," Charles says, as Erik is arranging himself in the middle of the bed.
"Any use of telepathy is an immediate forfeit," Raven says.
"Quite right," Charles agrees. "And intentionally changing forms in the middle of things, while hilarious, is also a forfeit."
"Agreed," Raven says.
"What about talking?" Erik asks.
"That won't be a problem," Raven says, smirking, in a pitch-perfect imitation of Charles's voice. She lets her form change, and suddenly another Charles is standing there, absolutely identical except for the color of his tie.
"That's a dead giveaway," Erik points out.
"Yes, but when I come out," Raven says, wrapping herself around Charles, which is sort of brain-breaking to watch, "I won't be wearing it."
"Shall we begin?" Charles asks her.
"Of course," she says, and they walk away, hiding themselves behind the screen in the corner of the room. A few moments later, two Charleses walk out, both naked, and Erik really can't tell them apart now.
"After you," one of them says to the other, holding out a hand in invitation, before going to sit in the chair in the corner of the room.
"Thank you kindly," the other one says. This Charles stretches, catlike, a typically Charles gesture; when he's done, he looks at Erik, giving him an evil smile. "Are you ready?"
Erik looks him up and down. "As I'll ever be."
"Good," he says, and then he gets up on the bed, crawling across it, looking up at Erik with hooded eyes. He crawls right up into Erik's lap, kissing him soundly, his hands on Erik's shoulders. It feels just like Charles, his scent, the texture of his hair, the feel of his lips against Erik's, but Erik is well aware that this is the easy stuff.
He's more than ready for the hard stuff.
He looks at Erik like he can read his mind, but that doesn't tell him anything; Charles always looks like that, whether he's actually doing it or not. He grins, kissing down the line of Erik's neck, biting him just where he likes to be bitten, right on that spot just below his ear. He moves on down Erik's chest, over his stomach, and then he's face to face with Erik's cock. He doesn't take it into his mouth, not at first, pressing his nose into the curls at its base and breathing him in, letting it slide over his cheek.
Erik groans; he sort of hates this part, because he is, at his core, a very impatient man. It doesn't help, because Charles is well aware of that fact, and he tends to exploit it on a regular basis. He doesn't torture Erik too terribly much, though; after a moment, he pulls back, wrapping his hand around Erik's cock and taking just the head into his mouth. Erik has been teased enough; he laces his hand through Charles's hair, pushing him down, making him take it. Charles looks up at him, but he lets Erik do it, just like every time.
He's pretty much decided that this must be the real Charles, because nobody has a mouth quite like him. He's pulling out all the stops, bobbing his head up and down while he works his hand, trying to get as much as possible of Erik's cock into his mouth. He's stroking himself while he does it, rubbing himself against the sheets for more friction; the way he moans does something to Erik, physically and mentally, the sensation of it coupled with the idea that he's doing this to Charles, that Charles is going this crazy just from having Erik's cock in his mouth.
Erik is very, very close; he grabs Charles's head tighter, pushing him down harder, but that's when Charles resists, pulling away from him. "Not yet," he says tightly, his hand moving faster on his cock.
"So you get to and I don't?" Erik pants.
"He has to," the other Charles says. "What's harder than controlling your powers while you're doing that?" He smiles. "And you don't get to because we're not done with you yet."
The Charles on the bed isn't listening to either of them, he's making desperate noises, pumping up into his fist. Erik puts a hand over his, thumbing at the head of his cock, and he goes off, groaning, shooting over both of their hands.
Charles slumps onto the bed, grinning at Erik. "Of course, you know it's me."
"You're very convincing, I'll give you that," Erik says, running a hand over his hair.
"Am I going to get a turn?" Charles asks from the chair, amused.
Charles waves at him. "In a minute." He leans over, giving Erik another kiss before he climbs off the bed and switches places with the other one.
"Now, where were we?" the Charles in front of him says, pushing Erik back into the bed. Erik can already tell this is going to be different- still Charles, but another one, the kind that's been sitting across the room, left out of the action for too long. He kisses Erik hard, taking his hands and pinning them above his head.
There's a bottle of lubricant on the table next to the bed, and Charles picks it up, pouring it over his fingers; he reaches between his legs, groaning as he slicks himself up, and there's that impatience thing again. Erik presses his fingers in alongside Charles's, making sure he's nice and ready, because whoever he is, Erik isn't going to show him any mercy.
Charles makes a desperate noise as Erik pushes up into him, all the way inside of him. Erik was wrong; this has to be the real one, because if it isn't, then Raven is far more powerful than Erik imagined. This is exactly what Charles feels like, the heat coming off of him, the way it feels when he starts to ride him, his head thrown back, his hand jerking his cock.
Erik slaps Charles's thigh, needing more from him. "Harder," he says, through clenched teeth, and it's all Charles can do to nod, moving faster. He knocks Charles's hand away from his dick, grabbing it and working it rougher, harder, and Charles cries out, pushing up into it.
Even as far gone as he is, Erik still has an idea. "Beg me for it," he says, knowing full well that the real Charles won't.
"Erik," Charles whines, but that's all he says, not rising to it.
"Go on, then," Erik says, stroking him faster, and Charles comes, his eyes rolling back; Erik thrusts up into him a few more good times and follows him over, moaning.
Charles finally climbs off him, kneeling next to him on the bed; the other one comes over, sitting down across from him. "So?" he says.
Erik looks at the two of them. "Hmm," he says, considering his options, though he already knows the answer. "You both made a very good showing, but the real one's got to be number two."
The first Charles throws up his hands in defeat. "I know when I've been bested," he says.
"What can I say," the second one says. "I am very good," he says, in Raven's voice.
Erik's eyes widen. "No. How did you- You can't have-"
Charles grins at her. "Well, it might have been ill-advised on my part, but the two of us have been practicing." Erik raises an eyebrow at them; he's never really considered the two of them together, but it's a very attractive proposition.
"Rest up," Raven says, her skin changing back over to blue, "because the next time's going to be harder."
"You intend to check again?" Erik asks.
"Not exactly," Charles says.
"We still have to decide who the best Raven is," Raven says.
"How will that even work?" Erik says, frowning.
Charles looks to the side, holding out a hand; another Raven appears, taking it, letting him pull her in. "It takes a little more doing," she says, "but it's hardly impossible."
Erik looks at the three of them. "When do we start?"