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— What's wrong, dear? —Erik asks when he sees his daughter's sadness in the rearview mirror. So far there have never been any problems with bullies, but there is always metal ready for him anywhere, in case he needs to teach any brat who messes with his princess a lesson.
— It's nothing, it's kind of silly —Lorna twists the edges of her skirt in her hand, looking out the window.
—Nothing to has to do with my beautiful little girl is silly, come on, you can tell me.
Of course, her nervous acting makes his guts twist in an uncomfortable way, thinking about how bad it makes him feel not be able to protect the person he loves the most in the world from any harm that has been and will be, physical or emotional. He doesn't notice any metal objects moving or melting so it's a good indication that he's holding himself in check with his own reflections of possible dangers that don't seem to affect him yet.
—Okay —she looks away from the window to now look at her father's eyes through the rearview mirror—. I feel a little sad because the boy I like told me that he doesn't like me.
There's not the slightest sight of tears on the way, which is pretty good. Not only because it's a sign of how strong his girl is, but also because it tells him that his feelings for that damn boy aren't too serious.
— We can go get some ice cream to make you feel better —. He knows beforehand that the ice cream isn't really necessary, with how unaffected she is by the whole thing, but Erik looks for any excuse to indulge Lorna, but not too much.
—Yes! —obviously she doesn't pass up the opportunity to get something sweet.
Erik makes a stop at the ice cream shop that they usually go to and orders two pistachio ice creams, which he quickly brings to one of the few tables in the place, where his daughter is waiting for him with a big smile, moving her feet with a bit of impatience under the table.
I love pistachio because it's green, like my hair . He had told him sometime ago, the first, second and third time they bought ice cream.
Halfway through her snack, her mouth a little muddy and her hand starting to get sticky from the little melted thread running down the cone, Lorna says, —Maybe he's human and he doesn't like me because I'm a mutant — she concludes simply, before focus all her attention back on the dessert.
—Is that—he pauses, to make sure he doesn't say cocky piece of crap—kid a mere human?
— I suppose. He doesn't have colored hair or skin and I haven't seen him using any special abilities either.
As his little girl continues to eat unfazed, Erik thinks his blood has started to boil thanks to his rage. A few minutes ago, it had seemed perfect to think that Lorna's feelings were not reciprocated without being really hurt, since she is too young to even consider the possibility of a boyfriend, yet, to consider that her affections were not reciprocated by his condition as a mutant turns his stomach, as well as bringing back bad memories of disastrous treatment that he himself experienced in his childhood. Treatments that, in an illusion, he believed that his little girl would not have to suffer.
Maybe he should have a friendly chat with that child's father, talk like reasonable adults…Or he could teach his daughter the value-err, the mistake, the mistake of revenge, that’s it.
—What's his name?
—His name is David
—Don't worry, we'll do something about David.
Finishing with her cone, Lorna gives him a curious look —. What are you planning to do, dad? — she asks, frowning a little.
— Nothing too malicious, I think.
X
—Well, tell me a little about that boy — he asks, keeping his eyes on the road.
Lorna seems hesitant at first, watching her father with intrigue, but then she talks casually. —He's cute, he has blue eyes, slightly blonde hair, he's very intelligent...
—That's not what I mean —he interrupts annoyed —. Tell me about the things he likes.
—He likes dinosaurs, science, dogs, chocolate, books and... That's all I know.
—Doesn't matter, I think that will be enough.
Erik looks at his daughter through rear view mirror, Lorna is doing that cute thing where she crinkles her nose because she's a little annoyed with him —. I don't understand what you're trying to do.
—You don't have to understand it, just enjoy the results, the benefits of not giving in to the hostility of homo sapiens and reminding them of their place as the inferior species.
He grins toothily, while his little speech of mutant superiority seems to take Lorna by surprise, for she changes her expression from annoyance to one of complete confusion, as if she can't connect the dots between her dominance status with the scornful brat. that he does not agree with the existence of mutants (and with it the imminent extinction of him along with his relatives at some point).
—Sometimes you act very strange —she tells him with narrowed eyes.
Once they arrive at school, Erik says goodbye to his daughter, wishing her a good day. When she's almost out of sight, he's ready to start the car, or at least he was until a particularly tempting sight flashes before his eyes: A panoramic view of Mr. Xavier's buttocks, clenched in his jeans thanks to the fact that the man is looking for something under his car. Using his powers, Lehnsherr can feel the keys under the vehicle, and like the decent individual that he is, he moves the keys closer to Xavier's hand so he can reach them, even if it deprives him of the show for his base instincts. When the other finally seems to have his keys in his hands, he begins to stand up; then Erik hears a horn along with some angry calls behind him.
Angry with the woman behind, who apparently is incapable of understanding the appreciation of the art that is the male body, he dedicates some disgusting words to her (Without using anti-sounding words, because he is in front of a primary school and the last thing he needs is other parents putting claims on his person) to finally add that he is going to move his car.
He is about to do it when Xavier gives him a smile along with a greeting —. Good morning, Erik.
He can almost feel cold sweat on his back. The other knows his name while he only knows his last name, of course he wants to be on that level of trust with the handsome man, but even appealing to everything he loves in life, he can't remember the damn name. Great, Xavier is now going to buy into the image of a grumpy idiot that others have of him, a grumpy idiot who can barely remember faces but is cheeky enough to see other people's butts... And oh, he's been quiet too long, He has not returned the greeting.
The smile only widens, instead of disappearing —I'm Charles.
Somewhat awkwardly, he nods and waves his hand, hoping he doesn't look as nervous as he feels. When the other gets into his own car, he disappears from his sight and the horn along with the claims is back, so Erik finally leaves the site.
Without allowing himself to be distracted by his small encounter with the man in whom he could well have some kind of crush, Lehnsherr keeps up his, until now, unsuccessful plan to take revenge on the boy who discriminated against mutants who had dared to hurt his daughter with ridiculous prejudices. If Suzanna were around, she'd rant about the immorality of hurting nine-year-old's feelings in order to teach Lorna a valuable lesson, but then again, if Suzanna were to suddenly show up then there would be no place in talking about morality, she being a completely absent mother who abandoned her daughter without thinking twice.
The next day, he gives Lorna a box of chocolates in the shape of a dinosaur, which he was lucky enough to find in the supermarket. This peculiar dessert kills two birds with one stone.
—What is this?
—It is a gift that you are going to give to that boy that you like.
She raises an eyebrow, confused —. Shall I tell him that they are from you? That's weird.
—No, darling, you're going to say they're from you, so the brat will feel interested.
—But I'm losing interest in David, there's a boy named Alex who— is interrupted by a hand wave from his father.
Erik lightly bites his lower lip, irritated —. One problem at a time, honey, first we're going to worry about David and then we'll see what to do with this Alex guy —. The mere thought of that other boy is affecting his nerves. From the day he found out he was going to be the father of a beautiful little girl, he had predicted for himself a future of unhealthy overprotection he would have to work, maybe there are some support groups or some slop like that; anything for the well-being of his daughter and his own sanity...
He shakes his head, trying to focus on the present, it's somewhat counterintuitive of him to think about improving his behavior when he's trying to get a boy to appreciate how wonderful his MUTANT daughter is and then squash her feelings for marginalizing people. Moral issues, he's never been very good at setting certain kinds of boundaries; like those who avoid the punishment by their own hands to other people's infants.
Arriving at school, Lorna gives him a look that makes it clear that she is judging him, despite not yet knowing why. —I don't understand what you're up to, but I'm going to accuse you with Aunt Elba.
—Aunt Elba does not understand the difficulties of living as a group of people who for many years were denied their rights and discriminated against.
The girl just rolls her eyes in response, shifting her attention to the box of chocolates in her lap, anything is better than starting some meaningless argument for reasons she doesn't even understand. Sometimes (Most of the time) it is difficult for him to understand his father's actions.
Getting out of the car, she says goodbye like every day, in an energetic and affectionate way before walking down the driveway of the school, full of more students. When she spots David's backpack at close range, she can't help but feel nervous with anticipation, worried about the boy's reaction to receiving the present. She hastens her pace a bit to be able to catch up, better to do it outside the classroom to avoid the inappropriate mutterings of her nosy classmates.
—Hello —she greets him once she's next to him, with a clear volume in her voice that allows her to be heard despite the hustle and bustle around her.
—Good morning, Lorna —he replies with a smile.
Wanting to get to the heart of the matter, she hands him the box, which David holds with evident confusion on his face. Before he can ask a question, she tells him, —I don't want any misunderstandings, this is from my father.
Despite her father's clear instructions, Lorna decides to tell the truth, not wanting her former attraction to David to cause a misrepresentation of things, such as causing her classmates (including Alex) to think that she still likes him. Unaware of the damage he has done to the absurd plan for revenge, he walks away from the boy, leaving him even more bewildered than before by his supposed explanation.
As school comes to an end for the day, Charles picks up his son like he does every day, surprised when he shows him a box of chocolates on the way home. Of course, he doesn't understand the reason for this, but the first thing he deduces is that some special person must have given this to his son. With a smile, he asks —, What does this mean?
—I think they are for you.
Wrinkling his brow in shock, the older man tries to keep his focus on the road while at the same time wanting to understand what his son is saying —For me?
The first person that comes to his mind is David's teacher, Moira. Her attraction to him is almost palpable, but he is not fascinated by the idea of the woman in charge of raising his son using him as a means of courtship. Unfortunately, he is also not thrilled with the idea of a relationship with her.
—Yes, Lehnsherr's daughter gave them to me and said they were from her father, which makes me conclude that they are for you.
—What makes you believe that? — he questions with a growing blush on his face, embarrassed by the little boy's cunning.
David lets out a short mocking laugh —As if it wasn't obvious.
Charles tries to straighten out the mess that is his head right now, keeping a block firm enough so his son can't access his thoughts. The idea of Erik giving him a present is a very satisfying feeling that puts him over the moon, but it's kind of hard to believe when the man seemed to have little interest in him, not even knowing his name. On the other hand, the passion and ardor he projected when he saw his ass suggest that there is at least some interest...
Stepping out of the vehicle, Charles finally has a chance to take a closer look at the alleged gift. His perplexity is greater when he realizes that they are dinosaur-shaped chocolates. Obsessed man that he is, he spends the next half hour trying to find some subliminal message with the help of arduous internet research, until he is interrupted by his son, who questions him about dinner.
At the end of the day, he can't find a connection between prehistoric creatures and some romantic message, but maybe the chocolates are reason enough to respond with something of his own. If at night he decides to search for all his skinniest pairs of jeans, it's a sudden craving that has nothing to do with the present or Lehnsherr.
On Saturday afternoon, Lorna and Erik take a walk, momentarily forgetting their usual routine as they stop at a place where people are congregating among some stalls set up on the outskirts, full of interesting items, such as household utensils, antiques, records and a lot of other things, including books. Erik can't help but question the course of his life when, looking at the piles of books, the thought of choosing a text that could lure the brat into his trap comes to him.
Do coincidences exist? He questions himself when he sees Xavier's silhouette a few stalls ahead, moving excitedly among the items for sale. It is not a question of chance but of destiny, his romantic part would say, of course, if he had that part. The word destiny would not even have crossed his mind if it weren't for the honeyed soap operas that he usually watches with his mother from time to time to please her.
Suddenly, a boy is seen among the sea of people and seems to be waving in his direction...
—Hello David — says his daughter and -oh no.
His train of thought stops and his face pales as his brain makes the deduction. The boy who accompanies Xavier seems to be David, which indicates that... Do divine punishments exist? Because there is no other possible answer to the evidence that Charles and David most likely turn out to be father and son.
Thanks to the greeting shared by the little ones, Charles establishes eye contact with him, or rather tries to, since it is a difficult task with the sudden need on his part to look elsewhere. The optical evasion is not enough to discourage the man, who now heads in his direction along with David. Running away is a ridiculous idea, not only because he can't hide from the other adult forever, but also because it might be the perfect opportunity to put his revenge plan aside and behave like a mature person, hoping that Charles isn't a bad influence that has raised his son as a segregator of mutants.
Once they are face to face, it is only necessary to verify the veracity of the sentence that indicates that an individual should be swallowed up by the ground when experiencing too high levels of shame. It's hard to think about having a civil conversation when the person for whom you might have perhaps the tiniest attraction is standing in front of you, with a wide smile, delicious intoxicating smelling lotion, and a wonderful wine-colored shirt that looks somewhat tight in the chest; Wouldn't it be a miraculous event if those buttons couldn't continue their work and just flew off?
—Good afternoon, Erik.
—Good afternoon, Charles — he waves back, relieved to have enough composture for the name to slip from his lips.
Luckily for them, the kids keep themselves distracted, keeping up an
enthusiastic chat about some superhero comics for sale. He questions himself about whether it would be appropriate to bring up the subject of David's discriminatory stance when Charles decides to speak first.
—Is it my idea or do we have unfinished business?
He almost lets out all the air inside him at the consolation that it gives him that it is the other one who has decided to talk about the matter —. I'm glad to know we're on the same channel —. He gives his princess a quick glance before adding, —We should, you know, talk in a more reserved environment, without the kids —. As much as he might have a massive crush on Xavier, He doesn't actually know the man, so they should have the discussion in private in case he freaks out or turns out to be some mutant-phobic idiot, which would at least help him get over his platonic attraction right away.
—Of course, — he replies, running his fingers through his hair — my sister plans to take David to an amusement park with my nephew tomorrow, so maybe we could take the opportunity to chat at my house. Even Lorna could go with them.
—Don't worry about her, my mother plans to appropriate her granddaughter for the whole Sunday.
With the place of their meeting decided, they fix the remaining details, such as the time and the explanation about the location of his home. They walk together (too much together, Erik thinks, as he finds his side brushing against Charles's on more than one occasion) for a few minutes, searching for objects of interest. At the end comes the inevitable moment of going their separate ways, when they stop looking around.
—See you tomorrow —. He thinks he sees a kind of sparkle in the other eyes, along with a mischievous gesture, however, it must be just his imagination.
'It's a date' is what he almost says, but instead he changes his choice of words —See you.
On the way home, Erik can't do much more than think about the meeting with Xavier and what he's supposed to say.
No matter how many turns he gave to the matter, even rolling from side to side in bed at dawn, with his head almost blank, it was impossible for him to imagine the most favorable approach to the subject to be discussed, so, when the moment of truth arrives, his mind is still in blank, perhaps a little more than before, and he can also swear that his hands are sweating as he lets go of the wheel, parking the car outside Charles's house.
His tension seems to be very visible, because after serving him some tea and offering him cookies, Charles sits next to him in the armchair, perhaps a little closer than necessary, squeezing his shoulder a little before asking —Are you nervous?
He tries to relax a bit, wishing he could let go of the soldier's stance he's gotten since he stepped through the doorway, but it's harder to do so with the other man so close, where he can perfectly catch the sweet scent of the captivating fragrance he wears; in addition to feeling his own erratic pulses, caused by the proximity of their bodies and the slight friction between them, despite the clothes getting in the way.
To think that someone is capable of arousing a frenzy of emotions and carnal desires within their person without doing practically anything is an alarming thought. What would become of him if Charles were willing to go further, if the attraction was mutual and...
...If Charles did something like kiss him, which is just what he's doing, taking over his lips as he tries his best to keep up when the initial shock wears off. Xavier settles on top of his body in the chair, taking his face on his hands while concentrates on the kiss. What Erik wants to do is take those hips and then do much, much more.
Unfortunately for him, the passionate kissing sequence comes to an end, leaving him exposed to the other's gaze. Erik does not carry a mirror with him, it is impossible for him to see the expression on his own face, and therefore it is also impossible for him to guess what Charles thought he read in it, because the man undoes the closeness, standing up and taking a little distance from the chair, cradling his own blushing face in his hands.
—I'm so sorry— he says looking really embarrassed.
For his part, Lehnsherr can't put his finger on the cause of the sudden embarrassment. Could it be that his host hasn't quite come out of the closet yet? Or is he turning out to be some kind of confused mutant discriminator thanks to his attraction to one? Before he can continue drawing his own conclusions, the real answer comes out of the other's mouth.
—I kissed you because I thought there was some attraction between us but seeing the grimace on your face, I knew I must have been imagining everything.
Sure, as if such a high sexual desire could be a product of the imagination, Erik thinks before approaching Charles and trying to amend the confusion caused by his deceptive countenance —. It's not your invention, I'm seriously attracted to you.
Xavier stops looking away, turning his beautiful blue eyes towards his companion —. So, was it really you who sent the chocolates? It does not seem very appropriate to do it through my son, but...
He seems very excited at the prospect of the answer being yes, his eyes twinkling as they watch him intently waiting for the answer. It's so tempting to take the chance and build a relationship (because it must be a relationship, he's not going to let this end in a one-night stand) based on a lie, yet his mother's novels have taught him that such relationships always end falling apart. So, he has no choice but to speak the truth, even if it might cause disappointment in his gigantic crush.
—In all honesty, those chocolates were for David.
—What?
And before the other assumes he's some kind of child stalker, he takes it upon himself to tell the full story of his plan and the reason for it, which, once he says it out loud, sounds even more ridiculous than when he thought it or when he tried to persuade his daughter to participate.
Charles is torn between remaining skeptical and uncomfortable, but at the end of the story he decides to laugh a little, trying to understand Erik.
—Both David and I are against the segregation of mutants, we are mutants, you silly man. Also, David likes a girl named Sydney.
—What is your mutation? —he asks enthusiastically, forgetting the subject of his daughter's first platonic crush. Maybe one day she will have better luck, when she is in a more appropriate age and Erik can subtly threaten the cheeky vandal if he thinks of doing something inappropriate. Hoping they're at the age where it would be pathetic for them to accuse him with their parents looking for defense
—I am a telepath.
Erik's almost immediate reaction is to blush —. Does that mean... you've always been able to read my mind?
He rolls his eyes, despite being used to everyone assuming that he has no respect for the privacy that other people's thoughts deserve —. I have not read your mind; I try not to get into anyone's head without permission —then he forgets about the annoyance and a smile appears on his face— But I can't help but listen when something is too loud —. The proximity is back, and at the end there is no space between them when Charles takes Erik's hands and directs them to his ass, while he delights his touch with that wonderful back, which he longs to see without anything covering it.
Despite the embarrassment of being catched, Erik doesn't miss the opportunity to squeeze those buttocks while they resume passionate kissing.
If Charles is wearing tight black jeans, almost perfect for the occasion, it's just a coincidence.
What would be perfect is if he had nothing on. It's a powerful thought that you can't stop from slipping away.
Wouldn't you like to take this into the bedroom?
And even though Erik still isn't good with telepathic communication, he is clear at expressing his wishes, taking Charles by surprise when he picks him up. The little moan he lets out when he's picked up, whether from shock or arousal (perhaps a combination of both) is like an exquisite elixir to Erik and his ears. And his penis, which makes its vehemence clear by yanking inside his pants, where space begins to fail.