Title: Never An Option (AKA) Home

Summary: "Charles looks wearily at Erik, eyes devoid of all light. 'it was never an option, my friend.' and Erik couldn't find it in him to refute."

Dedication: My best friend\sister\hetero-life mate (and if you watched Jay and Silent Bob then you know where I got that from haha) who introduced me to yaoi, fan fiction and now this pairing that I love to death. This one's for you Jazmin! :D X3

This is...slightly AU I think. Magneto has a Device given to him with the same effects as Shah's mask, made per Charles' request so Erik won't complain. XP

Warnings: No actual smutt, just...grindage lol um...angst, some fluff at the end...Stupid Eric and some translations :D No BETA so sorry for all the errors DX

Erik always had trouble with sleep. During the days at Xavier mansion her constantly sought out ways to entertain himself and keep his inner demons at bay. At night, there were no distractions. As the world is enveloped in darkness, his mind and heart are drowned in the infinite abyss of the night. Erik couldn't tell the difference between the nightmares and his memories. The blood on his hands, the stench of gunpowder and blood and flesh- he couldn't escape any of it. The pain and sadness overwhelmed him.

He awoke with a scream and tears dripping down his pale cheeks, the scene replaying before him. "Es tut mir leid" Erik chokes out, closing his eyes. I'm sorry. He promises himself, not for the first time, to never allow himself to fall into the same position again. he never wanted to feel powerless to protect someone he loved.

It would never happen again.

There was no one left alive.

It was then that Erik suddenly felt another presence in his room. At about two in the morning there were only so many choices: either it was mystique, returning from a drinking game with lord knows who, since their rooms where next to each other, or Charles. Erik suspected the latter. Without a word Erik moved so he sat upright facing the wall than in bed. He could tell Charles was fighting the instinct to simply reach into his mind and pull out what was bothering his friend. It brought a smile, rueful but a smile nonetheless, to Erik's lips.

"Are you going to stand there and stare or turn on the light and come in?" Erik states and he smirks at Charles' light and airy chuckle.

"I suppose that's the closest to an invitation I can receive from you." Charles humors and opens the door fully. With a click flick of his wrist the light is on, bathing the partially empty room with a warm, dim orange light. Erik nods his head towards the small couch across the room; Charles walks calmly to it and takes a seat.

Charles is awkward in many ways. For one he wears simply his pajama bottoms, the shirt thrown in light of the heat in his room. His skin is sticky, too with sweat and as he tried to read in bed he caught whiff of distress and, totally unintentionally, in fact, watched Erik's dream. He knew how the other felt when he intruded in his mind, he knew that Erik could leave at any given moment if given the chance and reason to do so.

He hadn't meant to intrude.

He didn't want Erik to leave his side.

"What troubles you, my friend?" Charles asks softly, watching Erik as he stretches his sore limbs. The sight of toned flesh peeking from beneath the gray, loosely buttoned shirt brings a light blush to Charles' cheeks. Catching himself before Erik notices, Charles shakes his head and smiles to himself. After Mystique had noticed the last time he had let his eyes, and mind, drift, Charles promised never to let it happen again.

"Gar nichts, nothing at all." Erik lies. He can tell by Charles' frown that the telepath doesn't believe him. Erik almost feels himself smiling as Charles tilts his head and stares at him in mild curiosity with clear blue eyes. It's almost too cute, seeing the usually proud and arrogant Xavier in his room, on his couch with no shirt, a light sheen of sweat glistening in the dimmed lights, staring at him with innocent curiosity.

Erik knows it's wrong to think such a thing.

He doesn't stop, regardless.

"Weet je...je het zeker?" Charles stumbles on his words, face scrunched up in concentration. "Is that how you say it?" He asks in a whisper, as if trading an illicit secret with Erik. Erik chuckles, a deep resonating sound in the silence of his room, and he grins at Charles.

"In Dutch, yes." The chuckle returns. "And to answer your question yes I am sure." Erik returns to his bed and sits at the edge, towards his friend, with his long legs splayed before him. The silence returns and Erik feels his mind begin to wander once more.

"Please, Erik, just..." Charles sighs and lays back on the soft, luxurious couch. He is a genius, not near Hank's level, but a genius. He can manipulate people, read thoughts and change them but for some unfathomable reason, he can't seem to find the words to speak to Erik. It bothers him to no end, but he accepts the fact, no less.

Erik is looking at Charles now, his stormy eyes full of emotion. Charles' want to simply delve in there, withing Erik's mind. He wants to shred every defense and protect the fragile mind he knows is hidden in the ruble of pain and despair. He wants to break down those walls brick by fucking brick because Charles Xavier has that much patience for Erik, just for the metal-bender, and damn if Charles will simply watch his best friend simply deteriorate mentally. He has to help, has to because he can't bear to see those dead eyes every morning and feel the anger wrapped in sadness wrapped in hatred and so on literally flow off the other in waves.

Erik was studying Charles as he drifted off in thought. he found a small smile forming on his lips as he watched emotions flit through those expressive blue eyes: anger, frustration, curiosity, sadness, exasperation. It was like a win and defeat all at once; he knew Charles cared enough to be there, in his room at the dead of night, waiting with the patience of a marble statue for him to speak; on the other hand Erik was afraid that soon, if not already, Charles' would sicken of their game of tug of pull, of asking and prying against silence and riddles.

Erik's heart felt heavy at the thought.

He hoped there wouldn't be a time where Charles gives up on him.

"Fine, it was a night-terror. Is that all?" Erik caves in, and Charles snaps from his reverie. A heavenly smile graces the weary Telepath's lips and Erik finds himself relaxing at the sight. "You look like you've been berated with night-terrors for the past three months." Erik shrugs. "Perhaps you have a little something on your mind as well? Habe ich recht?" Am I right? Erik grins and Charles snorts a little at the revelation on why Mystique constantly chants "The Mouse and the Shark" when the duo pass by. (Well, in her head because she knows Charles will listen.)

"Neicht. Not at all." Charles grins. "I hardly sleep a wink at all, every since I was younger." Charles yawns and Erik finds himself thinking 'adorable'," Too many minds loose at night, and when I'm too tired to fight them off, it's like being a mute in a room full of loud people." Erik cringes at the thought. There is a long stretch of silence until Charles speaks up in broken Dutch:

"Je ziet eruit alsof je een drankje, mijn vriend gebruiken."

You look like you can use a drink, my friend.

Erik found he couldn't refuse.

They laid side by side on Charles' bed, an empty bottle of whiskey and a half empty bottle of vodka beside the couch. Charles, claiming that Erik had drank too much, forced the metal-bender to lay in bed until he 'no longer walked with the swagger of a drunken sailor'. They spoke very little as they drank, and Erik found himself under the pressure of the silence that smoldered between them.

"Have you ever wondered..." Erik began, and found that his words slurred more than he would like to admit. "What if you came to a moment in your life in which you could have done something, anything different... what would you change?" Erik asked offhandedly.

"Well I wouldn't have drank half as much as I have just now." Charles chuckles and turns on his side. "I wouldn't have spent half of my life trying to live up to the standards of people who don't appreciate a thing they have and looked down their noses on every other person." Charles confides and closes his eyes. He can't tell why he said that, and much less to Erik. There are things he can tell and things he shouldn't, Charles knows, and even that Mystique hardly knows about.

His parents.

"Your parents?" Erik asks in a low voice. Charles hums in acknowledgement. Erik feels anger rise in him, at the parents of such a beautiful and charming being such as Charles that simply brush him off. Charles repeats the question to Erik who lays still for a moment before answering.

"There is too much. Too much I would change." Erik sighs and closes his eyes, a million memories flitting through his mind's eye. "Perhaps I would have hidden my family when the Gestapo arrived with those SS ranks behind them. Maybe I would have let my mother go, though I know in my heart I wouldn't dare do such a thing. Maybe I would have moved the coin, or just moved the gun so that it pointed at me instead of my mother. Perhaps I would have held on that extra little longer when you found me, and simply let myself sink into the murky...icy depths..." Erik stops his rambling and finds that he's crying.

It hurts, to be honest, to remember suck things. To imagine things differently than they occurred gives him hope, a dark, false hope that eats away at him. Maybe death would have spared everyone the pain Erik thinks and the thought brings more tears to his eyes. He feels a hand tentatively swipe st his tears and Erik opens his steel eyes to see Charles' deep blue eyes reflecting the very same pain. Tears leak from the corner of those outrageously large eyes and slip down into the sheets.

Charles' eyes bore into Erik's, devoid of all light. "It was never an option, my friend."and Erik couldn't find it in him to refute. "Death and the darkness- there is no option for people like us." Charles leans forward and their foreheads touch. "We never had the option of an easy life." Charles closes his eyes and breaths out gently.

Erik's breath hitches.

"You are not alone"

Erik leans forward, his lips pressing tentatively against Charles'. Charles' eyes open, he inhales sharply and then smiles genuinely. Erik feels his heart throb and he moves forward to press their lips together.

Neither can say when it happened. The sudden mutual pain and intoxication fueled another kind of fire; something akin to lust but more gentle, along the lines of need but shifting more towards want.

Erik wants to feel Charles. He needs to know that he's not alone.

Charles wants to stay with Erik. He needs to know that there is more to life than pleasing others.

Erik is on top of Charles now, his breath hot against already heated skin. He looks down at the flushed and panting and absolutely gorgeous man beneath him and feels a stirring beneath his waist. Erik can't help but imagine all the enticing things he could do to the telepath and Charles moans loudly and Arches at the barrage of images and sensations assaulting him. He hadn't meant to link To Erik's mind at all but as the kiss got heated his mind was filled with the metal-bender and his powers reacted accordingly.

'Tsk-Tsk Charles. I thought you had more self-control than that' Erik thinks and smirks hautingly as he imagines Charles beneath him, moaning and writhing wantonly. Charles almost screams as the images continue to rush at him.

'N-no, please Erik.' Charles' voice is trembling, even in his mind. "Please, just do something!" Charles groans and Erik complies, swooping down to claim his lips in another sweet kiss. The soft lips taste of whiskey and sweetness and everything good in the world and Erik finds that he could easily become addicted to the taste. Erik's hand slides up the sweaty chest before his lips join searching the body below.

Charles sits up slowly, his mind a lusty haze of love and want and need and ohh god if Erik doesn't do anything now then he's going to explode. Erik looks up with darkened eyes as Charles watches him. He knows what Charles wants, and will give it to him, too, but teasing is much too fun and seeing the pleading, pleasure ridden face of his Seksowny little lab rat he can't help himself.

Erik shifts lower and their tented pajama pants meet, Charles throws his head back and groans. Erik can hear the pleading in his head and as he bites down on the long neck displayed before him he grinds down once more.

"Ahh!" Charles moans and then flips them over, his eyes blackened with lust. The telepath makes quick work of Erik's shirt and tosses it away without a single forethought. "Bloody tease." Charles growls and Erik feels himself twitch at the sound. Charles' sneaky hand delves within the confines of his bottom and grasps the heated flesh there. The two moan as Charles' link sends him the pleasurable tendrils of pleasure. Erik, discontent on the one-sided pleasure, mimicks Charles and begins to stroke. Their cocks align and thrust against each other, rubbing and pressing and-

"Ahhh!" Charles groans and his free hand reaches up to hold the other's neck as spasms of pleasure make him shake. Their lips meet in a breathless kiss and Eriks keens in the back of his throat as a finger swipes at the tip of their weeping members.

'ErikErikErikErik' Erik hears Charles chanting in his mind and the sheer breathlessness of it pushes him closer to the edge. 'PleasePleasePlease ahh so so-close!' Erik moans and bites Charles' lips, his fingers clenching the sweat drenched locks. Erik growls and moves Charles' hand and grasps both of their twitching members in one hand as he sets a near brutal pace. Stroking, rubbing, teasing until Charles shouts his name and splashes come on both of them; the sight alone pushes Erik over the edge and he follows Charles into blissful nirvana.

He cleans them both off mindlessly and collapses beside a sleeping Charles.

It's raining the next morning when Erik stumbles out of bed. He puts on a pair of jeans before noticing that he isn't in his own room.

In fact, he can't remember how he got here.

A quick look back reveals a very sleeping, and very sated Charles. Below the blanket Erik notes the lost bottle of Jeigermeister vodka and beside it, the whiskey. He can't recall a thing other than Charles crying and wiping his tears and he feels anger rising; not at Charles but at himself. He has an excuse to leave. He wasn't supposed to stay here but he can't find the will to leave this place, it's inhabitants...

He can't think about leaving Charles.

A new emotion flows through him and Erik almost collapses is it not for the heavy cabinet that catches him.

He silently leaves the room.

...

Erik dons a black shirt, feeling more comfortable than before (seeing as he left Charles' room shirtless) and sat against the window sill. There was only one rule he had given himself, and that was to not let anyone to close to his heart. It would only make leaving less bareable, more painful and life that much more lonely.

What if he was pulled to a situation where he was powerless once more?

What if he failed to protect Charles.

Too lost in his own thoughts Erik failed to notice the telepath entering his room until Charles was standing before his bed. "Erik, what-"

"Leave." Erik says coldly, ignoring the flare of sadness he feels tingling under his skin.

"Not until you spill what's on your mind." Charles retorts. Erik feels his anger bubbling once more. The metal posts of his bed shiver in his fury and he feels even the tiniest of nails vibrate in response. Charles stands in defiance of the display of power. "Erik!" His voice is shrill and angry, maybe even afraid. Erik turns and glares, his muscles relax and the bed post untangles from Charles' arm.

"This is not open for discussion, Charles. All this, this mansion and those people- I have nothing to do with them or it or any of this." Erik spits and charles flinches at the vile in the words.

"This is your home-"

"This is no home of mine." Erik snaps. "None of this is for me, has anything to do with me." Erik eyes Charles and watches the hurt flicker through those deep blue eyes. "Last night, whatever it was that we shared?" Erik presses on and although his chest is tightening he can't seem to stop himself. "I can't do this. I can't be with you, I can't do this!"

He swallows his words as those blue eyes shine fiercely with tears and sadness.

"This isn't my home." Erik feels Charles in his mind. 'I can't lose another important person in my life.' He thinks and walks out the door.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

The rain is cold and numbing, a fact Erik has never felt more thankful for. He couldn't think of a place to go, of a place to be and so he sits against the sidewalk, soaking wet and lost in thought.

No matter what he says he can't convince himself that leaving is for the best.

Erik ruffles his hair and feels a hard clip; a power blocker Charles had Hank make. He remembered to put it on as he left the manor. Erik smiled fondly at the memory of Charles tossing it on his lap after a brief explanation of why he had it made.

"You want privacy. As a friend I'm obliged to give you at least that."

Charles always seemed to know, clip or not, by reading his thoughts or just seeing him what Erik was feeling.

"You are not alone"

Erik felt a chill run up his spine, though not due to the cold. He didn't deserve someone like Charles. A black souls such as his didn't deserve such and angel. Erik sighed and slumped his shoulders. A million memories of Charles resurfaced and he was to weak, too tired to stop them. He hadn't felt so lost until he had left all that he had.

His only comfort was the thought that those drops where rain, not tears.

He missed Charles.

He missed the feel of his company, his words of comfort, the taste of his lips.

Charles was all that he had in this life, and he lost it.

Erik feels the rain against his skin stop, and shudders as the ice cold droplets carve paths down his numbed body. Only, the rain around him hasn't stopped falling. A quick look up reveals the black umbrella responsible and a glance past the gentle hand holding it shows the culprit.

"How did you find me?" He asks shakily. He can't bring himself to look into those pristine blue eyes. Not after all the hurt he had seen in them.

"You kept calling me." Is the simple reply. Erik's eyes go impossibly wide and he feels Charles move. The telepath kneels before him, dripping wet, smiling sincerely and looking positively angelic. Charles says softly, reaching out his hand. He doesn't have to answer, doesn't ask for forgiveness because there's already forgiveness."Come now, let's go home."

"Home..." Erik thinks as he takes Charles' hand, dropping the power-blocking clip into the torrent of water that took it away. "Is anywhere you are."

Perhaps he had been Calling for Charles all along.