#and like if you drawing/writing that shit in non-anime fandoms ik you picked it up in one -_- storp it

[yappacadaver]

one thing about me is if you include the little like. drool connection. in your art/fic about kissing i am out i am gone you will never hear from me again

[black--betty]

I promised @ikeracity​ I would write her a thing because she was doing some VERY IMPORTANT LIFE THINGS yesterday. Her prompt was the above picture, which I found very inspiring. As you will see.  Ike, I hope you like this!! Proud of you, buddy!! 

Everyone else - I hope you like this too! I miss fandom, but I promise I’m still creeping around. I don’t know if that’s meant to be comforting or...anyways, here’s the thing:

“It’s untenable.”

Erik could feel the vein in his forehead pulsing, ready to burst. “A publication meant to be fair and balanced, giving a two page spread to a group of human apologists?”

His fingers were itching for his computer. He’d already mentally drafted the first several paragraphs of his open letter to the editor of the Washington Square News.

“It’s a student newspaper,” Emma said dryly, delicately pulling the lid off of her coffee. “Who cares?”

“We should all care!” Erik shouted, drawing the attention of the Starbucks patrons. “This is why I started Homosuperior in the first place - because the mainstream media refuses to talk about mutant issues without watering it down with this ‘all lives matter’ bullshit.”

“Is Erik talking about his livejournal again?” Azazel asked, arriving seemingly out of nowhere and flopping down next to them.  

“It’s a blog,” Erik gritted out, “on wordpress.”

Azazel grinned and stole half of Erik’s cookie. “I know.”

“Maybe you should read the article before you assassinate the editor in chief,” Emma said, sliding the paper over to him.

“It doesn’t matter what the content is,” Erik protested, crossing his arms. “It’s the principle of the matter. You don’t see anyone reaching out to me with interview requests.”

“Maybe it’s because you threatened to castrate Senator Kelly on your livejournal last week.” Azazel said, helpfully.

Emma sighed. “Just read it.” She flipped the paper open, “Trust me.”

Erik opened his mouth to object when the picture spanning the top half of the page caught his attention.

“Woah,” Azazel said, leaning forward, “is that - “

“Charles,” Erik cut in, nearly choking on the word.

He shouldn’t have been surprised that X-Alliance had chosen Charles to represent them. He was their most vocal and popular advocate, and really, the only one with enough brains to go toe-to-toe with the Brotherhood, or, if Erik was flattering himself, Homosuperior.

The sight of him, however, under a large banner headline that shouted “COME TOGETHER,” froze Erik’s prepared tirade in its tracks.

If he was being generous, he would call Charles a friendly opponent. They’d shouted at one-another through megaphones across protest barriers enough times, but it was always done with a certain sense of levity. The smile Charles graced him with the last time he’d called Erik a relentless, stubborn bastard was miles away from the absolutely brutal verbal takedown he’d unleashed on Sebastian Shaw the following day in a campus-sponsored debate on Mutant Rights.

He’d always thought of Charles as someone who, if he could be swayed to Erik’s line of thinking, would be an irreplaceable ally.

He’d never thought of Charles as...attractive.

At least, he hadn’t really thought about it until this moment. The Charles in newsprint was miles away from the rumpled, affable Charles in loose slacks he was used to. The Charles in newsprint gazed intensely into the distance in a way that emphasized the blue of his eyes. Had styled his hair so that it curled in just the right way. Was wearing a shirt that buttoned close to his neck in a way that should have been prim, but was instead beckoned the viewer to pull the buttons apart with his teeth.

This Charles was slouched against a crumbling concrete wall in tight jeans, his hands placed suggestively against spread thighs, the denim clinging to each curving muscle.

It was untenable.

“Erik…?”

He realized his fingers were crumpling the newspaper into an unreadable mess.

“I have to go,” he said, standing suddenly and bumping the table, nearly knocking over Emma’s drink. He ignored the angry telepathic spike in his brain and stalked out of the Starbucks, his mind whirling. He knew where he had to go and what he had to do.

***

Charles was nearly hidden behind a wall of paper when Erik burst into the TA office in the Science Centre. He looked up from the essay he was grading and smiled when he saw Erik straining to catch his breath, blinking guileless blue eyes at him from behind the heavy frame of his glasses.

“Erik! What a pleasant surprise -”

“I thought you were better than this,” Erik cut in, holding up the newspaper in a clenched fist and throwing it at Charles’ face. It snagged in the air and floated awkwardly onto the floor between them. Erik bent down and picked it up, slamming it onto the desk and sending one pile of essays sliding to the floor.

“Better than…?” Charles trailed off, smoothing the paper down and looking over the front page.

“Better than whoring yourself out to prop up the human agenda.”

Charles looked up at him in shock.

“What?”

Erik huffed and opened the paper to the page with the article, stabbing his finger down on the picture.

“Oh the article came out!” Charles exclaimed, delighted.

“Yes, Charles,” Erik said flatly, “the article came out.”

Charles winced. “Oh yes, I thought you might be upset about that. But listen, I think I was very fair and balanced - “

“Oh yes, balanced, as in, co-opting a chance for us to talk about the prejudice mutant students face at this school with your non-partisan bullshit - “

“They wanted to talk about integration and I used that opportunity to discuss the very issues you’re talking about!”

“Why talk about integration at all!? Why do we need to share our platform - “

“This is why they asked to interview me instead of you, Erik, because you refuse to bend, even a little bit - “

“They wanted to talk to you because you’re non-threatening and you look good in jeans - “

“Did you even read the article? I gave your blog an excellent plug - “

Charles froze.

“Did you just say - did you say I look good in jeans?”

Erik’s mind, running on high octane the way it always did when he got into a fight with Charles, suddenly ground to a halt.

“I - I only meant that...that you look baseline. So.” He cleared his throat.

“Oh,” Charles said and his mouth pulled down into frown. Erik had never noticed how red his mouth was, or the full curve of his lower lip...

“Anyways, I should go.”

Charles frowned harder as Erik stepped back and bumped into the door frame. “What, that’s it?”

“What’s it?” Erik asked, reached for the doorknob blindly behind him, honing in on it with his powers.

“No more tearing me apart? No more - “ he waved at the paper, “‘mutants are the homo-superior’ stuff?”

He licked his bottom lip and Erik watched his tongue slide slowly across the sweet, red skin, watched the long, pale column of his throat move as he swallowed, seemingly in slow-motion.

“Nope. I’m ah, I’m late.” He fumbled with the door, but couldn’t seem to get it open.

Charles stood and moved around the desk, pulling off his glasses and dropping them onto the remaining pile of essays. His brows were pulled together in concern above his eyes which, in the low lamplight of the room, were a deep sapphire, endless pools of starlit water -

Erik jerked back, rattling the door, and Charles stopped with his hands raised as though Erik was a frightened animal.

“Are you alright? I promise I’m not looking but I can feel your mind going berserk.” Erik tore his eyes away from the muscle of Charles’ forearm, flexing as it reached out to him. Charles noticed, and drew his arm back quickly.

“I’m sorry, Erik,” Charles said forlornly, “I didn’t realize the article would upset you this much. If I had known I never would have agreed to it - “

“It’s not the article,“ Erik blurted, unable to hear the self-loathing in Charles’ voice. And really, he’d alway been careful about hurting Charles. Certainly more than he cared about hurting anyone else. He always slept better after eviscerating most people, either on his blog or in person, but with Charles his words seemed to matter more. Maybe because...Charles mattered.

Shit.

“Then what is it?” Charles asked, folding his arms across his chest.

“It’s...that picture of you.” Charles looked back at the article still spread out on his desk. He turned back to Erik, baffled.

“What about it?”

“They - I don’t know,” he started to get angry again, “you can’t just look like that, okay? It’s not...representative. Of you. Of the movement. You look - Listen, they’re probably just using you because you look like that and they want people to be attracted to the mutant cause - “

Charles’ bewilderment suddenly cleared, like a lightbulb going off above his head.

“Erik, are you saying you find me attractive?”

Erik felt the blood rush from his face. He gaped for a moment, mouth opening and closing as he searched for an appropriate lie, but he had never shied away from the truth. He’d also never backed down from a fight and he didn’t intend to start now.

“Yeah, I am.” He stepped forward, leaning into Charles’ space. “So what if I am?”

Charles’ face and entire body lit up and he moved directly into Erik’s orbit. He was short, but broad and he managed to herd Erik back against the door again.

“If you are, then I’m going to kiss you, and then I’m going to ask you on a date, if that’s alright?”

Erik stared down at Charles’ beaming face. He wasn’t entirely sure when he lost the plot of this particular debate, but he’d always been quick on his feet, and he’d be damned if he let Charles win this one.

Before Charles could move he leaned down and kissed him first. It was a little too blunt and a little too forceful, and he could feel the hard outline of Charles’ teeth behind his lips. But Charles leaned into it eagerly, his hands coming to Erik’s waist to cling to his shirt as Erik’s fingers lifted to tilt his face just so.

Suddenly they were moving in sync, melting into one another and Charles was making gorgeous little noises that Erik could feel vibrating against his lips, his fingers tangled in Charles’ hair and against his pulse, feeling his heart race.

Charles pulled back eventually, breathless and laughing, and Erik felt like an idiot. How did it take him so long to see Charles?

“I guess that’s a yes to the date then?” Charles asked, leaning into him so that their bodies were flush.

“Yes. That’s a definite yes.” He runs his thumb down the flushed curve of Charles’ cheek to the corner of his mouth. “Hey, thanks for pimping out my blog in your article.”

“Yes, well, I was hoping it would prompt you to be nicer to me,” Charles said, grinning. “Who knew all I had to do was wear an old pair of jeans from high school.”

Erik hummed, pulling him in for another kiss.

“Charles, if you wear those jeans, I promise I will be very, very nice to you.”