literature

ERIK'S UGLY SHIRT

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Literature Text

Taking a Chance: Erik's Ugly Shirt



At four o'clock in the morning, even Charles Xavier's mind stopped functioning properly. There he was, sitting at his work desk, trying to figure out if a kid's voice could really make him fly around a giant satellite dish or if he would be sending him falling to his death. As the mathematical equations on his paper got longer and longer, his attention span got shorter and shorter. The last thing he needed was a sudden knock on his door.


A quick psychic scan told him the unwelcome visitor was none other than Erik. Charles could have easily found out what he wanted without even letting him through the door, but at this hour of the night he simply could not be bothered. "Come in, Erik," he said with a frustrated sigh, leaning back in his rolling office chair and rubbing his weary eyes. He heard the door open behind him.


"Evening, professor… or should I say… morning?"


"Erik, I told you not to call me that," Charles said, rolling his eyes and swiveling around in his chair to face him. "You know it makes me feel… old."


Charles could not help but pause awkwardly midway through his sentence upon laying eyes on Erik. The latter stood in the doorway, right elbow leaning against the doorframe with his head resting in his hand, and his left knuckles on his left hip. He sort of looked like an awkward German model showing off… the ugliest shirt Charles had ever seen. First off, it was not even his usual turtleneck. It was a button-down. Second of all, it was paisley, with bright green, pink, and orange thrown into the mix.


"Nice shirt," Charles said with a chuckle, then swiveled back around to return to his work.


Once Charles was no longer looking, Erik smirked to himself. "I have a question for you, professor," he said, and Charles turned around again to fix him with an annoyed but nevertheless interested stare. Erik was now standing in the doorway with his arms crossed, leaning his right shoulder against the doorframe. Charles' eyes flashed once again to his abysmally ugly shirt, except now he noticed the very top metal button was undone. He could have sworn all the buttons were done up when he first saw Erik, but it was late and he was tired and it did not really matter in the slightest of ways. Or so he thought.


"What is it?" Charles asked.


Erik walked over to Charles' desk, pulling up a chair and sitting down beside him. He swung Charles around so they could talk face to face. Of course, this also brought Charles closer to Erik's atrocious shirt. He could swear its neon colors were slowly burning their way through his sleep-deprived brain. He blinked the blurriness out of his eyes and tried to focus. Strangely, the first thing he came to notice was the second button on Erik's shirt had now become undone. His eyebrows knit together as he tried to figure out whether he was more tired than he thought or if something undeniably strange was going on here.


"I just was wondering," Erik began, "since I possess magnetic properties, does it mean it's possible for other magnets to affect me? For example, if I were trapped between two or more extremely powerful oppositely-charged magnets, would I be pulled apart by their combined force?"


Charles was not listening. His eyes were glued to the third button on Erik's shirt, which for the entire time Erik was talking lingered on the point of becoming undone. Erik moved uneasily awaiting Charles' reply, and the button slipped out of its corresponding slit. A small part of Erik's chest now became visible. Charles noted the few chest hairs present on his otherwise smooth skin, completely oblivious to anything other than what he was seeing.


"Professor, are you even listening?"


Charles looked up and found himself just several inches from Erik's face. The latter had leaned forward to meet the shorter man's lower eyelevel and was staring at him inquisitively. Charles felt blood rushing to his cheeks and looked away quickly.


"Could you… repeat the question?" he asked quietly, still refusing to make eye contact.


"I asked if it would be possible to kill me using two or more powerful oppositely-charged magnets."


"Well, that depends entirely if your magnetism is voluntary or not," Charles replied, feeling confident enough to address Erik directly again. "If it's automatic, however, it would depend on if you can control whether you are charged negatively, or… positively…." Charles trailed off. Even though he was using all his willpower not to look at Erik's chest, that became nearly impossible when he realized his shirt was only being held together by one button now, the very bottom one. "Couldn't… couldn't this wait until morning?" he stammered, feeling his face become alarmingly red now.


"No, Charles…" Erik began, pulling Charles' rolling chair right up to his own, so his legs were now on either side of it. Charles grabbed onto his armrests uneasily and drew as far back into his seat as possible. "… I could not wait until morning…" Erik continued, suddenly pinning Charles' wrists to the armrests so the latter could not make a move. Charles squirmed around with no success. He considered going into Erik's mind and forcing him to release him, but, after all, he did consider it rude and only ever used it as a last resort. At least that was the excuse he gave himself. Erik lifted his right knee, placed it on Charles' chair between Charles' legs, and hoisted himself up. Charles struggled some more with the intention of maintaining the wellbeing of his manhood, though he had to admit Erik's warmth and pressure were not repulsive, but on the other hand rather exhilirating. There was also the fact Erik's shirt was now completely open and his bare chest was exposed for Charles' viewing pleasure. The warmth and scent coming off of Erik were driving Charles insane as Erik lingered over him, breathing hotly into his face, a smug smile spread widely over his lips. Charles panicked, closing his eyes, about to command Erik to get off of him, but, "… to do this," Erik finished, and pressed his lips tightly against Charles'. Charles' eyes shot open as his mental connection was lost. Then they closed again slowly as he melted into the kiss.

This is a humorous little Charles/Erik "what if" scenario my brain came up with late one night. Or idk pretend this really happened or somethn.
This pairing is just... fjhvfkjghLKDFGLDSIGYES. I wanna call it Charlik. Just because it sounds like it has the word "lick" in it. :iconhurrplz:

I plan to write another Charlik one-shot (or I guess it can work as a sequel of sorts to this one)... soon-ish. It'll be a little more srs bsns, but just as JHSDBFLvwcflGVDSCLG.

I don't own X-Men: First Class. *cries forever*
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ktfoo's avatar
I loved this :) I could also definitely see it happening in reverse.... Erik always removing Charles' clothing in awkward situations to be a troll.

Charlik XD