Chapter Text
Charles let out a long breath as the door finally clicked shut behind him. He couldn't say he hadn't been enjoying himself at the conference, but by the third night he was more than a little worn out. Being in close proximity to all of those minds, hour after hour, was taking a toll. He'd had fun going out for dinner with the new people he'd met, the last two nights, but tonight he'd made his apologies. Tonight he was going to have a bath, and drink some wine, maybe watch some TV, and crucially not leave his room. The conference ended tomorrow, and then he'd travel home the following morning. At this point, he was really looking forward to being home.
He dumped his tote bag on the room's armchair, and started undressing without any rush. The library vendors had their booths open today and he'd tried to collect as much 'swag' — if you could call it that — as possible, to share with Moira and his co-workers. Whether they would end up using the collection of assorted bags, eco- cups, notebooks, and pens he wasn't sure, but they always enjoyed getting free stuff. Charles had even eyed the sturdy looking Web of Science umbrella for himself for a moment, before reminding himself he had a perfectly serviceable umbrella already, and it would probably make Hank's day.
As he pulled on the hotel's robe and padded over to the bathroom, Charles checked his phone for any new messages that came in during the last session of the day. He smiled as he saw the text from Erik waiting for him.
My sweet, grumpy, Erik, he thought affectionately. He missed him too. They might not have seen each other much during the week anyway, but knowing they were physically further apart exacerbated the feeling. Charles started filling the bath with hot water and bubbles, looking forward to a relaxing soak. He headed over to the minibar as the tap ran, and made a face at the wine contained within. Then he imagined the face Erik would make at his snobbery, and chuckled to himself. You'll do, he conceded and carried the bottle and a glass back to the bathroom. He set everything down on the small wooden shelf, and fished the phone out of the robe pocket to send a reply.
Charles set some relaxing music to play from his phone speaker, shed his robe, and sank into the hot water gratefully. He felt his muscle tension slowly starting to ease as he soaked, legs sore from sitting around in uncomfortable chairs for several hours every day. Sipping his wine and enjoying the music, he drifted off, feeling cozy and relaxed.
About half an hour later, he awoke with a small start, the bathwater turning cold. Shivering slightly, he moved to the shower to warm up again, and wash off the bubble residue. Once clean, dried, and re-ensconced in the robe, he moved the wine to the nightstand and switched on the TV. It was set to MTV — playing some 80s retrospective, so he let Madonna writhe around while he drank some more wine and checked his phone again. He snorted as he saw Erik's reply to his message from earlier.
He lay back against the pillows and texted back.
The TV was playing the Pet Shop Boys now, so Charles turned it up. His phone pinged.
See, Charles thought. So silly.
he sent back.
Erik responded.
Charles laughed.
He sent a picture of himself in the robe, brandishing his wine glass.
Erik replied.
Charles missed Erik's cooking. The catering wasn't bad, and they had mostly had pub dinners, but he was getting a bit tired of it. He must have been spoiled by home cooking; he probably wouldn't have complained in the past.
Erik wrote back quickly.
The messages were accompanied with a picture of a very spinach-heavy curry that Charles was actually glad he didn't have to eat, but he didn't want to tell Erik that.
Rick Astley was now singing on the TV, so Charles took the opportunity to switch channels; there was some cozy murder mystery set in a small village that looked fine. He grabbed the room service menu and scanned it halfheartedly. Maybe he could manage a cheeseburger. As if Erik was the telepath, his phone pinged again.
Charles rolled his eyes. Cheeseburgers have protein, he convinced himself. And he'd had some sort of chicken salad thing for lunch.
He imagined Erik's response to that — he'd probably be rolling his eyes right back.
Okay, so Charles had guessed wrong.
Charles didn't hear anything back for a while, so forced himself to order some food, and scrolled idly on his phone. He was slightly disappointed — Erik had seemed pretty flirty earlier, but maybe he was busy now. He texted Moira instead, to update her on how everything was going and some of the connections he'd made. A public librarian from a different borough was going to share their resource pack for a youth program they were running, which looked like it could be adapted well for their young mutant group.
A knock at the door announced his dinner had arrived, and he picked at it for a while while half-paying attention to the show in the background.
"It was the gardener," he murmured sagely, to no-one, while munching on a chip. "One hundred percent. The man's a maniac, look at his outfit."
His phone pinged. Expecting a response from Moira, Charles was surprised to see that Erik had texted again.
For a brief moment, worry shot through him. Had something gone wrong in the last half hour or so? He turned down the TV volume, and called Erik right away.
"Good evening," Erik answered, sounding pleased.
"Is everything okay?" Charles asked anyway.
"Yeah," Erik replied. "Just finished dinner and felt like hearing your voice."
"Oh," Charles smiled. That was a good reason.
"Have you eaten?" Erik queried, a teasing sternness in his voice.
Charles made a face. "Yes, dammit. I'm not Lorna, I don't need you to parent me."
"Don't you," Erik muttered. "Please tell me it wasn't just chips?"
"Anyway," Charles said, ignoring him. "How was your day?"
Erik snorted, but went on to briefly describe how his co-workers had frustrated him this time. Charles laughed and shared some of the highlights from the sessions he'd been in, and how there'd been an excellent mutant presenter who had the power to generate energy plasmoids which looked like fireworks.
"She was so cool," Charles sighed, "she'd be such a hit at the kids program, they'd love her." Erik made a noise of agreement, but Charles sensed he wasn't particularly engaged. Normally Erik would be keen to hear about an unfamiliar mutation; particularly one that also used magnetic fields. "Sick of my voice already?" Charles joked.
"Of course not," Erik sounded offended. Charles laughed. "Maybe just a bit distracted," Erik admitted sheepishly.
"By what?" Charles asked, amused. "We can end the call, cut-rate Miss Marple will keep me entertained."
"Don't," Erik replied, suddenly earnest. "I do really miss you."
Charles chuckled, feeling warm from the sentiment, and possibly also the wine. "I do too, darling. But what's on your mind?"
Erik sighed. "I'm really horny," he admitted.
Charles cracked up laughing.
"Wow, mean," Erik remarked. "You don't know how I've been suffering, all day. And then you had to tease me, telling me about your bath, making me imagine you naked."
"Mm," Charles murmured. "Sounds terrible, I don't know how you survived." Erik made a 'hmph' sound. "It's barely been a week, my love," Charles teased.
It had been Erik's weekend with Lorna before Charles left, and even though he'd stayed over they hadn't done anything. Erik was still awkward about things getting steamy while Lorna was in the apartment, which Charles could understand. Mostly. He'd argued that his telepathy meant he could make sure Lorna wouldn't notice anything, but Erik was worried that they got so caught up, he was more likely to accidentally project something traumatising instead. Then Charles had asked Erik how he thought any kids got siblings if you couldn't have sex with a child in the house, but it hadn't been received particularly well, so he'd let it go.
"Yeah, a fucking long week," Erik replied. He switched to a suggestive tone. "You know what else is lo—"
"Is this your idea of dirty talk?" Charles interrupted. "You seem better at it during actual sex."
"Wow, tough crowd," Erik snorted. "It's easier to just do something, instead of having to talk about it."
"Or just think about it," Charles agreed. Telepathy definitely had its perks in the bedroom. "Well, I have faith in your creative abilities."
Erik grunted. "That makes one of us." There was a moment of silence. "Fuck, I wish you were here."
"Mm," Charles murmured. "I am terribly lonely, here in this hotel room all by myself." Erik chuckled. "What would you do if I was there?"
He heard Erik take a breath. "Uh…"
"Would you kiss me?" Charles asked, grabbing the remote and switching the TV off. Deranged villagers weren't really helping create the right mood. "I'd really like you to kiss me. I miss your lips against mine." He pictured them, warm and yielding against his.
"Yeah," Erik replied, still a little hesitant. "I'd push you down on the couch and kiss you, so I could feel you under me."
"I like that," Charles murmured. "Feeling you press against me, as your tongue slips into my mouth. I want your arms around me, your hands tangled in my hair." He licked his lips. "What are you wearing?"
"Uh, now?" Erik asked. "Or in some other made up scenario?"
Charles giggled to himself. Aw, he's so cute. "Now," he replied. "So my imagination is accurate."
"Oh." Erik sounded self-conscious. "Just sweats."
Charles could picture them well. "Oh, the soft grey ones? That really show the outline of your cock?" he asked enthusiastically. They were a very distracting item of clothing, and a favourite of his.
Erik laughed. "Well, I can't exactly wear them outside anymore, not since you pointed that out."
"Certainly not," Charles sniffed. "That's just for me."
"Mmhmm," Erik agreed. He seemed pleased by his possessiveness. "You wanna touch it?"
He was jumping ahead somewhat, but Charles wouldn't hold it against him. "Yes," he breathed, "I'd feel you getting hard while you're pressed against my thigh, and I'd rock up on you as you get even harder." He was starting to get hard himself, just imagining it. He loosened the tie on the robe, let it fall open, and started to lazily caress his chest and stomach. "Then I'd push you back from me, because I want to see it. See how big and hard you are for me, straining at the fabric of your pants." The image made his mouth water.
"Yeah?" Erik sounded like he was starting to be affected too. "I'm so hard for you baby, I want my cock in your mouth."
"I think I'm going to make you wait," Charles replied, teasing. "Until you're really desperate." He heard Erik groan quietly. The sound shot straight to his groin. "Are you touching yourself? Thinking of me?"
"Fuck, yes," Erik sighed, his breath hitching a little.
"Do it slowly," Charles instructed. "Through your pants. I don't want you to finish too soon." Erik groaned again. Charles squeezed his cock lightly. "I want to squeeze and touch you, through your clothes. Then I'd lean down and lick you through them too. So you could only just feel the warmth and wetness of my tongue." Charles let out a small moan as he fondled his balls gently, making himself drag out the feeling.
"Charles," Erik murmured, sounding slightly smug. "Are you touching yourself too?"
"Mm," Charles replied, making his voice breathier. "I'm touching my nipples while I think of your mouth on them." He pinched one and took a sharp breath in at the mix of pleasure and pain. "Sucking and biting, making them so swollen and sensitive."
"Oh fuck," Erik said, his breaths becoming more audible over the phone. "Fuck, I wish I was there with you, baby. I want to touch you so bad."
"Yes," said Charles, shivering at the thought. "I want you to kiss me all over, I want you to grab my arse, I want to feel you all over me."
Erik make a strangled sort of sound and then took a deep breath. "Wait, Charles, can we switch to video? I wanna see you."
Charles frowned slightly. "Hm, I think I prefer it like this, can't we try it? It's so hot, listening to your voice and the sounds you make." Erik was always distressingly good to look at, but Charles was enjoying how it felt different to do it this way. He could concentrate on every change in breath and groan that Erik couldn't suppress, without any distractions. He was already down one sense without being able to connect telepathically, so why not go even further?
"Oh, okay." Erik sounded a bit disappointed. "I mean it definitely is hot. You're better at it though."
"Don't be silly," Charles replied, reproachful. "You're turning me on so much. We can do a video call another time," he promised.
"Can I get a photo at least?" Erik asked, a hint of pleading in his tone.
Charles laughed. "You have so many already!"
Erik sounded like he was pouting. "But I want one now. So I can picture you properly."
Charles sighed. "Hang on a second then… what do you want in it?"
"Hmm," Erik considered. "Your cock. And your chest. And your ass, I wanna see that."
"Erik," Charles complained. "That's ridiculous. I can't get all of that in one picture." He thought of the female superhero pictures where they twisted awkwardly at the waist to show off all their assets at once.
"Send two then," Erik suggested helpfully.
"Jesus Christ," Charles muttered, but he wasn't really mad. It was nice to be lusted over. He clicked through to the camera app. The lighting wasn't great in the hotel room; natural lighting always looked better, but it was too dark outside for that. He arranged himself as artfully as possible in the open robe, spread out on the bed, and clicked to take a picture. He made a face at the result. The angle wasn't the best, but it was okay.
"Are you taking them?" Erik demanded, impatient.
"For fucks sake," Charles snapped playfully, "you can't wait five whole seconds?"
"No," Erik deadpanned. "Have pity on me."
Charles snorted, trying to figure out how to best capture his arse without the help of a mirror. He'd rather not go for a cliche bathroom shot.
"I might need to set the timer, hang on," he explained, shifting on the bed.
"Charles!" Erik cried. "I am not asking for art! I want to jerk off. To you. Now, if possible."
"Bit rude," Charles grumbled, but gave up on his search for the perfect pose. He lay on his stomach on the bed, arched his arse up, and took a picture over his shoulder, in selfie mode. It didn't look too bad, honestly. His butt looked pretty juicy; he'd definitely seen worse.
"Charles?" Erik groaned, snapping Charles out of his thoughts.
"Sufficient?" Charles asked cheekily, once he'd sent them through.
Erik chuckled as he opened the message, and then took a sharp breath. "Dammit, Charles. You look so fucking good."
Charles flushed with happiness, though Erik had reacted to every one of his selfies in pretty much the same way. It still felt good to know what effect he had on him, even with some quick, grainy snapshots.
"I wanna kiss and lick you, all the way down your body," Erik continued, clearly re-inspired by the visual stimulus. "I want your cock in my mouth, I want to suck you."
Charles' dick twitched at that idea. He started slowly stroking it again. "Yes, please. Your mouth feels so good."
"Then I want to turn you over," Erik added, with a swallow. "I want to lick you until you're begging for my tongue in your ass. I want to taste you and make you moan."
"Oh fuck," Charles gasped, imagining the sensation. "Fuck yes, I need your tongue inside me, you make me go crazy."
"Put a finger in," Erik ordered in response, apparently gaining confidence from Charles' reactions. "Imagine that it's mine."
"Jesus," Charles moaned. Then he remembered. "Damn, I don't have any lube here." He laughed regretfully. "I didn't expect to need it on this trip."
"Just spit on it!" Erik said, amused. "Not good enough for you?"
"Ha," Charles replied drily. "Bossy all of a sudden, aren't you?"
"I think you love it," Erik laughed.
Charles couldn't really argue. "Alright, sir," he said slyly, and then sucked noisily on his finger, enjoying the hitch in Erik's breath at being addressed that way. "Just one?"
"One to start," Erik agreed, getting his voice back. "I got the impression we were taking it slow." Charles rolled his eyes. So snarky. Still, he had better things to do than argue.
"Mm," Charles moaned, as he rubbed his fingertip around his pucker. "I'm so tight," he added as he began to slip it inside. "Haven't been fucked in so long."
Erik groaned loudly. "I'm gonna fuck you so hard when you come home."
"Yes, darling, I can't wait," Charles murmured, losing himself in the feeling as he stroked himself internally. His fingers weren't as long as Erik's, so he couldn't reach as far, but it felt good. Still, he needed more, he wanted to feel fuller. "Can I have more?" he begged, "it's not enough."
"One more," Erik allowed him, arousal evident in his tone. "Get closer to the phone, I wanna hear it."
"There's no lube, you can't hear anything," Charles muttered, but quickly forgot to be frustrated as he spat on his fingers again, and pushed two in this time. The stretch was so delicious and he shut his eyes, thinking of Erik preparing him for his cock.
"Does it feel good, baby?" Erik asked, his voice low. "Are you getting off on your own fingers, for me?" Charles could hear the slippery slapping sound in the background as Erik jerked himself steadily, his breath getting ragged. "Just imagine if all those people you met at your conference knew what a slut you are for me, how filthy you are."
Charles groaned, pleasure surging up his spine at the words; the tinge of humiliation only making him harder. He found his prostate and alternated between rubbing and tapping against it, in rhythm. "Oh fuck, fuck Erik, my fingers aren't enough, I need you so badly." He gripped his leaking cock with his other hand, and spread the precome over it to ease his strokes.
"I've got you baby," Erik replied, panting, "I'm right here."
Charles let out little moans as he rocked back on to his fingers and then forward into his palm. "Ah, I need…" He writhed against the bed, all the sensation too much but still not enough.
"What do you need?" Erik asked. "Anything, Charles, fuck…" He sounded as desperate as Charles was feeling.
"Just talk to me," Charles begged. "Your voice is so hot, I love it when you talk to me while we fuck. I love the feel of your breath against my ear, how husky you sound when you're close…"
Erik groaned loudly, and the sound of his strokes sped up. "Fucking hell, Charles, you turn me on. You're so fucking sexy." Charles' heart pounded in his chest. "I want you to come. I want you to come thinking of my cock in your ass, fucking into you." Erik's panting was quicker now, and a sound like a whimper escaped his mouth. "You're so good for me baby, you take it so well."
"Yeah?" Charles moaned. "You fuck me so well, you make me want to scream. I've never felt so good, you fill me up like no-one else, you make me come so hard." Fuck, he was close, so close. He bit his lip, trying not to make too much noise in case the hotel walls were thin, but losing the will to care.
"Oh fuck, Charles, I'm gonna come," Erik whined, his hand moving frantically if the sound was any indication. "You're gonna make me—" he cut off abruptly as he grunted loudly and the sounds of his slicked up hand slowed. He let out a few shuddering breaths.
The image of Erik coming all over himself while thinking of fucking him tipped Charles over the edge too. He cried out as his orgasm hit, feeling his muscles clench around his fingers as he stroked himself through it.
"Shit," Erik sighed. "Damn, Charles." Charles could only really manage a breathy laugh in return as he fell back onto the mattress. "I think I got come on my eyebrow," Erik added, a few seconds later. "What the fuck."
Charles laughed. "If only I was there to lick it off," he sighed, stretching out his limbs, momentarily ignoring the mess he'd made too. Hopefully most of it was contained to himself and the robe — he didn't fancy sleeping in a wet spot.
"Stop it, I'm still recovering," Erik growled.
Charles giggled. "You got quite into it, in the end."
"Of course," Erik replied, as if it was obvious, "it's you, so I'm into it." It made Charles' chest feel warm; he was always surprised when Erik was straightforward about how much he meant to him. But then he felt a small burst of anxiety.
"You did like it though? You didn't just do it for me, right?" Charles asked, worried now that he was distractedly horny anymore.
"Charles," Erik sighed. "Can't you go back through it with that super memory of yours, so you can see how much you turned me on? I'm not sure I can take another round just now." Charles laughed, embarrassed at his own self-consciousness, but also pleased by how wrecked Erik sounded. "Or do we need to do it again tomorrow night?"
"Hm, maybe," Charles joked. "I could use some more convincing."
"Insatiable, aren't you." He could hear the grin in Erik's voice.
"You started this whole thing!" Charles protested. "'Oh, I'm so horny, I've been wasting away without you…'"
Erik snorted. "I did not say that."
"Whatever, close enough," Charles said, starting to feel sleepy as he snuggled into the soft pillows, boneless after his release. I suppose I'll have to go and clean up first, he thought with a sigh.
"Well, get ready," Erik was saying, "because I'm not letting you out of bed the whole weekend, once you're back."
Charles grinned. "Sounds perfect. As long as you cook me dinner first."