FicWad

Cheat:

Charles denies it, but Erik isn't convinced. He's almost completely certain that the other man is lying. There's just no way that it's possible to win as often as he does without having used his powers to cheat at chess.

Warmth:

Late at night, when the entire mansion has fallen silent, Erik allows himself to succumb to a simple pleasure. Awake in their bed he curls in closer to the telepath, breathing in his unique scent, basking in the warmth that seems to exude from the smaller man.

Tea:

Erik enjoys his coffee, the refined taste of roasted beans that lingers on his tongue after the first sip, the smell of hazelnut that disperses throughout the room, he absolutely loves his coffee. Charles doesn't much care for the beverage. Time at Oxford has made him acquire a taste for tea, so rather than having a glass of coffee with Erik in the morning, he sets his kettle to boil water. Erik will never understand the appeal of tea, least of all when you have something as wonderful as coffee, but the beverage makes Charles happy so it can't be all that bad.

Turtleneck:

Charles hasn't the slightest clue how the man does it. How he makes a simple piece of clothing look so enticing. Usually one's attractiveness is enhanced by the amount of skin being shown, yet Erik still manages to look downright sexy when every inch of him is covered by the fabric of his turtleneck.

Ticklish:

They're lounging on the couch, Erik's head in Charles' lap, reading when Charles first takes notice. Book held in one hand, Charles allows his right hand to rest on Erik's abdomen. Lightly he begins to trace his fingers along the length of the metal bender's stomach. Charles quirks an eyebrow when Erik suddenly jerks as his fingers brush a spot just below the man's ribs. Experimentally Charles brushes his fingers once more over the spot just below his left ribs earning him another squirm. When Erik's hand grasps his wrist the next time he tries to casually brush his fingers over the spot, Charles decides to file away his new found information for a later time.

Piano:

There's a grand piano in the living room, it's gone untouched for ages. There's a thick layer of dust that's accumulated across the top of the keys, but that is easily dispelled with a rush of air and a swipe of a hand. Fingers lingering after clearing away the residual dust, they casually key out a few notes. They come out pristine, obviously even in his time away Charles had made sure the piano was kept in working order. Pulling back the stool Erik draped his hands over the keys. They fell into a familiar pattern and soon the room was filled with the sounds of Beethoven. Entranced in the music Erik didn't notice that another was in the room until he felt the warm breath against his ear and the low rumble of "play it again luv."

The Beatles:

He's humming, and at first it sounds aimless in nature, but upon further inspection Erik can begin to pickup the well-known tune. A small smile crosses his lips as he looks up from the book he's reading to simply listen to Charles who is caught up in examining the bills. Folding the corner of his page down Erik stood placing the book on his seat as he walked over to Charles. A hand on the back of the chair he leaned down placing a soft kiss to his temple before cheekily responding "I'll do more than hold your hand darling."

Kittens:

Erik eyes the ball of fur curled in Charles' lap suspiciously. He didn't agree to a pet of any sort, least of all a lap hogging kitten. "Charles, what is that," he asks warily. Charles smirks at Erik's apprehension. "I believe you know what a cat is Erik," Charles replies haughtily. Erik rolls his eyes; he should have seen that response coming. "I know that, I mean what's it doing here?" Charles face softens as he scoops up the small creature, "the poor thing was all alone in the rain." Erik sighs knowing the inevitable question that's to follow. "Can't we keep her," Charles pleads flashing Erik his best puppy dog eyes as he softly strokes the kitten. Erik can feel his resolve beginning to break with each second spent under that gaze. Cautiously sticking out his hand to the kitten Erik allows a smile to grace his lips as the tiny animal tentatively licks his fingers. "I don't see why not," he finally concedes.

Tradition:

They're standing under the archway having fallen into a comfortable conversation while the children unwrap their presents when Alex declares they have to kiss. Charles seems shocked and is questioning whatever made the young man think of such a thing. It's when Erik, a bemused smile on his face, taps his shoulder and points up that he finally notices the branch of holly hanging above them. "So you have to kiss him," Alex whines. "Yea, it's a holiday tradition," Raven tacks on. "Don't want to piss off Santa do ya," Sean pipes in. Hank just blushes refusing to join in; he hasn't had nearly enough eggnog to start prodding at the Professor. Erik brings a hand up to cup Charles' cheek and turn the man to face him. "Well you heard the children, Charles," he breathes out easily. "It is a holiday tradition," Charles agrees before melding his lips with Erik's in a soft kiss.

Rain:

Drenched through with the cold water that is pelting them from above their clothes stick to them, melding to the contour of ever muscle. Erik swears his leather jacket is ruined, yet he can't bring himself to truly care over the matter. The only thing that he cares about, the thing occupying every last bit of his attention is the feel of Charles' lips on his own. The sensation of hands grasping desperately to the front of his shirt as a mouth moves feverishly against his own is enough to block out any traces of rain plummeting around them.