(no subject)

[xdaddy]

[ Erik wakes with words in his head that are not quite his own, remnants of a conversation that are wiped from his mind almost as soon as he reaches full wakefulness. But there is a detachment in his movements, a mechanical habit of his actions that he dismisses as routine, a part of coming to true consciousness. It is still dark out -- barely dawn over the Xavier mansion, and Erik moves with purpose, his movements guided by a consciousness that is beyond his own.

He pulls his shirt over his head without a thought, discards it on the back of the nearest chair. Erik doesn't turn the lamp on; aware of the fact that he won't be needing light, where he's going, and he doesn't fight the way he opens his door, idly wondering if it is all an unnecessarily vivid dream before his path leads him to Charles' bedroom.

Locked, but it's child's play to a mutant like him to shift the bolt back, push down on the lever and let himself in. What am I doing here? He wonders in a moment of rare clarity, and he is slow to reach the thought, as if caught, still, in a dream that Erik had capitulated to being in.

Surely this is inappropriate; the professor would be asleep, and -- ]

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[butwedonot]

[ -- And nothing of the sort. Charles was very clearly awake, propped against the headboard with nary left to the imagination. Body on display in a delicate arch atop his pillows, hands tangled in those thick chocolate strands, tugging and teasing at the nerves as he catches sight of Erik's approach. He doesn't even bother to feign surprise-- instead lowering one hand to crook a finger. Erik will have no choice but to comply, to come to him and submit to his touch because they have agreed on it and Charles has given his word that he will indulge Erik in his fantasies. No matter how tasking it might be, he'll remind himself that Erik wanted this, that he promised him this-- and he loves him enough to do for him what he wouldn't dare for another.

He waits till Erik is crawling on the bed before cupping that strong jaw in his hands. Teasing over the tiniest bit of stubble and forcing him to still so Charles can force a hard kiss to his lips. It's not abusive-- not yet-- but demanding. Forcing Erik to open his lips, to kiss back, to indulge Charles in his control and submit to his demands. The taste of Erik so familiar even when he can feel the hesitance of his mind. Pulling back he nips his lip, tugs and teases, a grin upon is lips. ] Tonight you're going to please me, Erik.