A/N: This began as a drabble (but became way too long) about how Erik realises how much he's been missing out on. In a constant quest for vengeance, you don't really have time for the little things, and so, with the help of our favourite telepath, he discovers ice cream, among other things. A little (but not much) angst, and so much fluff it's frankly ridiculous, but I was in a fluffy mood. Pre-slash, so if you don't like it, you know where to go.

They decide, by popular consensus, that they're driving each other crazy. Alex and Hank have been arguing on and off for the better part of a week, and its only a high pitched shriek from Sean, loud enough that it threatens to shatter an ear drum that finally gets them to shut up. For a while. At the moment, from what anyone can gather, it's Round 23: Who ate the last pop tart? Charles has given up being mediator, (even his near legendary patience does have a limit, and apparently its hormonal teens) and is busy trying to ignore the splitting headache brought on by the constant aggression and irritation being barrelled in his direction.

Erik, being Erik, just watches and smirks.

Raven hasn't come out of her room for days, proclaiming that she's not leaving it till the others finally shut up, and by this point Charles is so fed up that he's considering freezing them and leaving them like that for a month. Erik is on the verge of agreeing with him, but in a moment of fatherly instinct he never knew he had, he finally yells above the noise that they're going out. No arguments, no objections, all of them are going, and that's final.

Moira, who they meet on their way out of the door, comes along, suggesting a local reservoir- given the cold, blustery weather its likely to be empty, and they can blow off steam without fear of exposure. Not that they really need worry about that with their resident Human Detector, she says with a flirtatious smile in Charles' direction, but it doesn't hurt to be careful.

The sky is a cold metallic grey reflected by the still water, and they bundle out of the car wrapped in hoodies, coats and various scarves. Alex and Sean are off immediately, chasing the pigeons and whooping like a pair of manic five year olds as Raven watches, torn between laughter and shame at their immaturity. Hank wanders off by himself to sit on a grassy bank, scribbling furiously in a notebook, but some of the tension has left his shoulders, and he's smiling as he writes.

Erik stands with Charles as Moira laughs with Raven, hair blowing across their faces till they can barely see. Even out here in the relative peace, Erik does not relax, standing guard over his brood with the focus of a soldier, and Charles waits with him, watching as Raven relaxes into her beautiful blue self, and Sean begins to curse like a sailor because one of the pigeons has gotten their revenge. Alex is rolling in the sand in hysterics, and he feels the familiar stirrings of affection as he guards his young charges.

He looks to his left, and these feelings are swamped by an absurd delight, because Erik is actually smiling- not the usual, don't-even-think-about-trying-to-reach-me-you-won't-ever-understand not quite but almost smile, but one that is soft and genuine. And it's rather lovely.

Charles has tried, very hard, not to let his attraction to the metal bender get the better of him, because he's promised the man that he won't go anywhere near his thoughts. He'd said it and he meant it, but it's just so hard! He only wants to know, with increasing frustration and desperation as the days pass, if there's the slightest, tiniest inkling of the possibility of reciprocation from the silent German, but he can't look because he's promised and so he won't.

Erik glances over at him, his face for once, soft and calm even in his watchfulness, and Charles smiles back, eyes twinkling like the sun on the water. Moira watches Charles watch Erik, but no-one watches her as she sighs, a sigh full of sadness and not a little regret. She's not stupid- she knows what's going on even if they don't and she knows when to bow out gracefully. So she turns back to Raven and tries not to let it show as the red-head suggests a walk.

Suddenly Sean comes barrelling over the hill, screaming about the Ice Cream Man. Erik tenses automatically at the sudden noise, and everyone can feel the coins in their pockets twitch at his sudden tension. Charles doesn't turn, but lays a comforting hand on his arm, smiling as Sean races over because can't he have one oh please please please!

They all choose and Charles insists on paying, calling it his treat like an indulgent mother. Erik is last as the rest slurp theirs happily, but no-one can miss how he pauses, staring in confusion at the boxes of coloured not-quite-cream that line the counter. The ice cream man begins to frown, the question no-one wants him to ask forming on his lips. He's seen people who haven't known what they wanted, but this man looks like he's never seen ice cream before, and that can't be right! Charles can tell, can see without Reading the look of growing panic in Erik's eyes, because he doesn't know what it is or what to do and he hates hates hates not knowing what to do.

Without thinking Charles freezes them all except Raven (because he's promised he won't) and Erik jerks again, shocked by the sudden stillness. Even the pigeons are frozen, and Charles glances at Raven, willing her to understand. She gets the message, moving away, and he places a gentle hand on other mans as the metal ice creams scoops begin to jerk slightly in their holders. Charles can feel his belt buckle tugging at him as Erik fights to calm down, to remain in control, beating back the shame because he knows what ice cream is, he's such an idiot because who panics over ice cream for God's sake and what will Charles think now?

He turns, but there's no scorn in those soft blue eyes, no condemnation or even pity, nothing but a little concern. And Erik snaps like he always does when he feels cornered, but that doesn't chase it away, it just grows more pronounced as Charles offers him a bite of his, something called a Cherry Swirl.

It's good, he realises as it melts on his tongue, sweet and slightly thick, the taste making him hum with pleasure. His eyelid slide down but only halfway, and so he catches the delight in the eyes of his telepath- and when on earth did he start thinking of him as his? When did Charles become his, but then it doesn't really matter because the man is his, he always has been, and so the exact moment he became so really isn't very important.

He opens his eyes and smiles, stealing another lick, making Charles laugh in mock outrage as he frees the others, tension dissolving like sugar in water.

In the end, they share.

If you have time, please drop me a review or some ideas- I love hearing from you!

P.S- Should I do some more of these?