X-men First Class fanfic inspired by a piece of art by kaciart (on tumblr) or kitten-chan (on deviantart). Posting it here for convenience from my tumblr (colt-kun).

Erik/Charles, pre-relationship. Yeah, I love this pairing.

"If you're tired, go to bed."

Charles gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head and rubbed his eyes with his free hand. "I must get this report read, or our friends at-"

"You're exhausted, Charles," Erik grumbled, glancing at the younger man sitting alone on the couch with a calculated frown. Charles' smile was strong, but his eyes were darkening with circles and his clothes weren't as impeccably groomed as he prided himself on.

"Merely the weak light, Erik. It's a terrible strain on the eyes I'm afraid." He glanced up at the dying fire. He didn't have to speak - or project - and Erik got up and fetched another log and threw it on the fire. He stirred the coals until the new log lit, then turned to look at his friend sitting on the couch.

"Charles," he scolded as he saw the end of a shiver.

"Yes?" Charles was playing dumb, and not even coyly. Erik withheld the exasperated sigh as he pulled the decorative afghan off the back of the grand arm chair. Charles gave a fake protestation huff as Erik spread the blanket across the slighter man's lap.

"If you catch cold on top of your self-induced insomnia, you won't be any help to your federal friends or the children."

"I promise I am fine. I know my limits."

"No, you know everyone else's." Erik meant to return to his seat. He really did. But Charles' eyes looking up at him made him change his destination. He had to share his bodyheat to get Charles warmed, he reasoned with himself, at least until the fire heated the room again.

Charles adjusted himself as the heavier man made the couch dip. He gathered his legs up to counterbalance, but didn't set them back on the floor.

The metal bender stared at the fire, marveling over Charles' determination. Months ago, he would have refused to ever ally with anyone, much less government servants and children. They would have been the farthest thing from his mind. He probably still wouldn't have cared, if it weren't for those eyes that saw through him and how they went soft with caring and hard with moral determination. It was… admirable. Those eyes even held sway over him, but he had recognized that the night he chose to stay and help Charles in his endeavors.

…But at the moment, their 'comrades' were miles away as Charles drifted off next to him and leaned against his shoulder.

Erik couldn't stop the spasm in his arm, and Charles abruptly pulled his head away. Erik played it off as a stretch, extending his arm out across the back of the couch. The 'path cleared his throat but didn't speak as he continued reading.

Erik tried to concentrate on the smell of the fire, or the overall woodsy smell of the massive mansion, anything but the vaguely vanilla source sitting beside him. He spared a glance at the booklet of papers in Charles' lap, now tilted away from his line of vision.

Charles' head dipped low again, and came to rest on Erik's bicep. Erik tightened, and focused on a particular cinder on the edge of the hearth. The coal pulsed, akin to a heartbeat, and Erik felt Charles' muscles relax against him. A moment later soft breathy snoring accompanied the coal's rhythmic beats; until it died and the breathing continued.

Erik sighed, surrendered, and leaned in to brush his cheek over the smaller man's soft, curled hair.

He missed the smirk sneak across Charles' face.