X-Men: First Class Fanfiction: Winter Edition

[tellytubby101]

Winter Edition.

Summary: Model!AU. Erik/Charles. Erik is the world's top male model, but notoriously difficult to work with. It seems Charles is the exception to this rule. Too bad Charles doesn’t want to be a model. Sequel to Autumn Edition.

A/N: Guys, what is this. You are all so amazing. No, seriously, I am utterly blown away by the astounding response the first instalment in this series had gotten. Holy crap and thank you. Hopefully this meets your standards.

҉

“Charles, I’m over here!”

At the familiar voice, Charles turned on his heel, his eyes looking out for a flash of red. Upon finding none, he frowned. He swore he had heard Raven then. Though he looked again, he still couldn’t find her. Then again, there were a lot of people in the bar; people escaping into the warmth as it snowed outside.

Fascinating thing about snowflakes; each one was meant to be unique, or so he was told. He wondered idly whether he could somehow turn that into an apt analogy for mutation. Thinking about it, he probably could—though the idea it would make sense was probably the alcohol talking.

He kept his eyes peeled for Raven, but being on the lookout was difficult when you were 5’ 7”.

“Hey!” Someone bumped into his arm, and Charles instinctively moved out of the way of the woman who’d done so, holding his drink more closely to his chest.

“My apologies,” Charles said quickly, employing an earnest tone. “I was just trying to look for my friend...” He paused and looked at the stranger’s face again. “My, my, don’t you look familiar?”

Raven grinned down at him, but she looked quite different than she did in his memory. Her hair was an impressive yellow shade of strawberry blonde, which brought out the flecks of gold in her eyes. Possibly more startling was how her hair now fell in curls to the hollow of her back, when only a week ago it had just been long enough to brush the base of her neck.

Tied in with heels and a slimming black dress, and well, Charles couldn’t be blamed for nearly mistaking her for someone else entirely. Still, he was quietly pleased to note that despite it all he could still recognise her smile; it was bright and endearingly pleased, as though she had tasted something sweet as sugar.

“I am quite certain you didn’t look like that when we first met,” Charles said, after they’d shared a quick hug. “Don’t get the wrong impression though,” he added. “You are quite beautiful as a blonde.”

“It’s one of my many human forms,” Raven joked as they walked through the crowds in an effort to find an empty table. “Normally I have blue skin.”

“Blue skin?” Charles repeated with a laugh, sliding into an empty seat; Raven sitting across from him. “Why blue? What about green or yellow?”

“According to Emma, blue is the colour that makes my skin pop.” Charles shot her a quick look. Raven rolled her eyes and said, “Don’t ask. I’m not quite sure what she meant either. Though, to be fair, she had quite a few drinks when she said it.”

“How is it working for Miss Frost on a full time basis?” Charles was usually good at reading people, but Emma had been touch and go during the one shoot they’d had together. She was slippery as ice, her demeanour slipping in and out of genial and cruelty during his observations.

“When she started, Emma was referred to as the White Queen for her stunning winter designs,” Raven said after taking a sip of her drink. “Some people who don’t like her call her the White Bitch instead. You know, after the evil White Witch in Narnia?”

“Yes, I know what you mean,” Charles nodded. He had read the stories as a child. “She turned people to stone, if I recall correctly.”

Raven looked contemplative before continuing with, “In all honesty, Emma’s not that bad. It’s more a matter of she knows what she wants and she’ll pull out all the stops to get it. She becomes scary as hell when she’s pissed off, but for a boss, she’s decent.”

A smile pulled up the corner of her mouth and she added, “Don’t let her know I said that. She needs to keep her reputation up.”

“My lips are sealed,” Charles said, unable to stop himself from grinning back at Raven. After a beat of companionable silence, he asked, “What magazine, exactly, was the shoot published in?”

“Did you want a copy?” Raven asked, surprised. She had offered before and he’d turned it down. “I can get you one—”

“No, no,” Charles replied quickly, a rush of embarrassment changing his cheeks rosy red. “It’s just, some of my students... I was wondering how many people would have seen it.”

Raven laughed. “Marvel is one of the top fashioning magazines in America, Charles. I thought you had some awareness of that?”

“Apparently not.”

“We set the trends,” Raven said, shrugging. “We’re second only to Hellfire, and even then, we normally influence them. If any of your students like keeping up to date with the fashions, they’d likely have seen you posing with Erik.”

At Charles’ slightly stricken expression, Raven looked a little concerned. “Are you alright? I’m sorry, we didn’t really explain it well when we first met, did we?”

Charles downed his drink. “That certainly explains the influx of... offers, I’d had lately.”

“In general?” asked Raven curiously. Her eyes were bright with mirth. “Or from students?”

“And the staff,” Charles muttered under his breath, though he cracked a small smile when Raven’s joyful cackle seemed to resonate around the room.

*

It turned out Raven brought Charles a copy of the magazine anyway. The shoot was nearly a month ago, but the print had only been in circulation for a week and a half.

“Look at that,” Raven said, opening to one of her favourite pictures. “No wonder why you’re getting all this extra attention.”

The bar was shaded in the colours of oak and woody browns, the yellow lighting throwing a strange layer on everything around them, like the scene was set in off-sepia yellowed by sunlight. Despite this, Charles’ eyes nearly glowed a vivid blue and were, quite frankly, stunning. His lips were dark and wet and she had to firmly remind herself that Charles was gay, quite unfortunately for her—

“Your students are probably thinking of you, professor, in a whole different light.”

Charles was looking at himself, seemingly startled at the image; as though he never considered himself an object of fascination or infatuation. Raven couldn’t hide her grin as she watched him turn the page, gaze lingering on Erik in some of the photos.

(Bastardisation aside on his personality, Raven thought Erik looked amazing in that leather jacket. It was as if the line was designed for him. Not to say that Charles didn’t clean up nicely. The undone buttons were a nice touch on her part, she felt.)

“Another drink?” Raven asked when the man finally looked away. The music in the bar had dimmed and conversation was less swarming. They could hear themselves think now.

“Please,” Charles said finally, swallowing heavily. She watched how his Adam’s apple bobbed, once, twice, and then moved to slide out of her chair.

When Raven left, she purposely pretended not to notice how Charles’ eyes darted back down to the latest edition of Marvel in his hands.

*

It was getting late, several empty glasses standing on the table where Charles and Raven still sat, too comfortable in conversation to want to escape to the dance floor. Everything had taken on a lovely hazy sheen and Charles’ felt wholly relaxed.

With that feeling in mind, he decided to ask, “So, how is Erik getting along?”

At the question, Raven’s head dropped into her hands and she made a low noise of disappointment. “You just reminded me,” she said, looking up. “He’s being even more of a bastard.”

“According to you, he couldn’t possibly get much worse,” Charles said, torn between amusement and concern. Should Raven really be finishing her drink that quickly? How many had she had already?

“He’s gotten worse,” Raven said darkly. “It’s like working with a child. A really tall, stubborn child.”

Her next words were muttered curses, lost due to the rumbling din of conversation and music flowing around them. Even though her expression had turned slightly murderous, Charles couldn’t help but laugh a little. Erik was difficult, but he wasn’t impossible—or so Charles thought, anyway.

A faint feeling of embarrassment overcame him. He had acted rather rudely towards Erik—by the end of their shoot, their interactions were hardly conversation and something more akin to a loud debate. As more time passed, he couldn’t help but feel empathetic towards Erik; surely he didn’t appreciate having someone new working with him and slowing them down. Well, their moment had passed – Charles doubted he would see the model again.

Clearing his throat, Charles asked, “What has he done?”

“I was hoping you’d ask. I made a list.”

“It was that bad?”

“Emma helped write it,” Raven said, handing over a piece of paper. Charles’ eyes widened when he saw how long it was. “That is the list for the last shoot we did. Five hours of that.”

(made one of the freelancers cry; refused to wear anything with cotton; refused to wear anything in the red colour spectrum; caused argument over whether purple counted as “partially red” or not; increase of cigarette breaks; two three four seven fights with Emma; “accidently” caused several seams to rip, incidentally in the most expensive suits; reduced to grunting and other stupid alpha male noises that don’t resemble language because he’s so fucking pissy; made his partner quit again—

at this point Charles had to turn the paper over; the writing increasing in size and the violence of the sharp, jagged lettering mildly unsettling

—Emma nearly lost her voice in a screaming fight; cigarette burns in clothes; insists he needs pure mineral water from fucking Fiji of all places otherwise he’ll be too dehydrated to work; insists that all accessories needs to be made of a certain metal alloy or it’ll “react badly” with him, which doesn’t even make sense; oh my God, where is the alcohol? I think it’s in one of the drawers, Emma, the top-right one; he’s made the freelancer cry again, why do we let him talk?! I hate my job; no, you hate Erik, there’s a difference—)

Once alcohol was mentioned, the writing became increasingly illegible and slanted. There were several crude drawings in a corner.

“Is that Erik being beheaded?”

“No, that’s him being hanged, I think,” Raven said with a slight slur to the ends of her words. She tried to straighten up in her chair before sighing and giving up. “There’s also a picture of him being castrated.”

“I’m beginning to think I caught Erik on a good day,” Charles said, torn between amusement and worry. “Is he really worth the effort?”

“Unfortunately, yes.” Raven exhaled heavily before admitting, “He’s practically made himself the brand of Marvel. If we fire him, we might save a few grey hairs, but overall it would be a huge net loss.”

“You sound so tired.”

“I am.” Raven didn’t bother lying, which Charles appreciated. He had a lifetime of learning when people were lying and why, but he preferred being able to trust people instead of analysing them.

“Thankfully I’ve got Sean and Alex to work with tomorrow,” she continued. “They’re good guys; I wish you could meet them.”

“Why don’t I?” Charles asked.

“What, meet them? Aren’t you busy?”

“No, I’ve got a free day tomorrow.”

“That’s...” Raven blinked slowly, a smile spreading across her face. “That’s excellent. Really excellent.”

Later, in a time so far later that all of this would see like ancient history in their lives, Charles would be able to recognise that wicked glint in Raven’s eyes. As it stood right now, he merely assumed it was her enjoying his company and the warmth of a good drink.

(Don’t fault him too much. He was young and naive; he would learn.)

*

“It’s fucking two in the morning. If someone isn’t dying, I’ll make—”

“Hold the threats for a minute.”

“Wait, Raven? What the hell are you calling me for?”

“Emma, just listen. I’ve somehow gotten Charles to promise to come by the set tomorrow afternoon.”

“He told me he didn’t want to mo—”

“Well, he’s going to meet Sean and Alex, not to model. Slight hitch there, but admittedly I wasn’t even planning this.”

“Then how is that helpful? Erik is becoming more like a drama queen everyday because he wants to chat up some university professor and do a shoot at the same time—”

“Make sure Erik is there and maybe just seeing Charles will cool him off long enough that we can get that winter piece done. I am sick to death of the bullshit Erik pulls.”

“Okay, Raven. Might as well try this. We’ve tried everything else.”

“Good. Otherwise I might have had to poison Erik’s coffee.”

“I would have helped you bury the body. I know people.”

“Don’t tempt me, Emma.”

“Goodnight, Raven. We’ll continue this tomorrow morning then.”

“Okay. Sleep well.”

“You, too.”

*

The world seemed to strive to work against Alex. He went to work in a horrible disposition; one of those moods which didn’t make sense so you wished the day was awful just to re-enforce and justify a piss poor temper. So as paradoxical as it might have seemed, Alex wanted a bad day, if only so it made last night seem better in comparison.

Unfortunately for him, the universe seemed to decide he deserved a break today. It was one of those days where he got a free bagel from the bakery and there was no one in line when he went to get some coffee. The snow was light, the ice slicks were minimal, and the air was cold in a way he liked.

Seeing Sean at work was the icing on the cake. And—damn it—Sean was slightly hung over, perfect conditions to get some revenge. (There was a... incident, a while back. It included heavy metal screamo music, boom boxes and shattered glass. Best not talk about that.)

“Go away,” Alex said. “You’re going to ruin my bad mood.”

“Too loud,” Sean mumbled, nursing a coffee and looking as though he just wanted to sleep.

“What was that, Cassidy?” Alex asked in a raised voice, teasing in his tone. He was beginning to grin despite himself. “You’re going to have to speak up; otherwise I can’t understand what you want.”

“Summers, I will find a way to castrate you. It will be painful and bloody.”

“I always knew that you wanted to get to my junk.” Fuck being angry at the world; Alex was grinning widely now.

“No one wants to get near your dick, man,” Sean said, taking off his sunglasses and rubbing at his eyes. “I’ll be doing humanity a favour by removing it.”

“What a great superhero you’d make,” Alex mused sarcastically. “Saving the world, by taking one penis at a time. Wow, that sounds amazing.”

“At least I’d be a superhero.” Sean laughed, but then flinched at the sound. “Urgh, everything is painful and so damned loud.”

Alex shrugged, unsympathetic. “That’s what you get for clubbing and drinking more than you can handle, lightweight.”

“I could drink you under the table any day, Summers.”

“Is that a challenge?”

Before either of them could break out the alcohol, they were interrupted by the very distinctive click-clack of high heels. Emma smiled at the guys—seemed like she was in a good mood—and told them they had five minutes before prep work would start. Raven gave them a small wave from where she was setting up at a make-up counter.

Of all the people he worked with, Alex liked Raven. She was nice and a bit of a chameleon, always changing how she looked to mess around with people. It seemed she was blonde today, though Alex quietly preferred the red hair.

“So what did you get up to last night then?” Sean asked, glancing over at his friend from over his sunglasses. “Did you get laid?”

“What?” Alex said, startled. “No! I went to see family, were you even listening when I told you this?”

“Clearly not.”

“Why are we friends again?”

“Because you’re pathetically lonely?” Sean guessed with a smirk. “Seriously though, how are your folks?”

“The parents are fine,” Alex said. His tone was slightly bitter when he added, “My brother is still a jerk.”

“Did you give him another black eye?” Sean didn’t look particularly concerned as he was slouching back in his chair, but there was a sudden sharpness to his gaze that implied he wasn’t as hung-over as he acted.

(The concern was not entirely unfounded. The day Alex gave his brother a black eye was also the day he nearly did some highly regrettable shit that nearly landed him in jail.)

“I didn’t get into another fight,” Alex said. “But it was a close thing. Scott’s just—I don’t know.”

“A bastard?”

“Yeah, more or less,” Alex agreed. “He doesn’t understand that I like modelling. He thinks I could be ‘so much more’. His heart’s in the right place, but Christ, the things he says.”

Things like: You’re using your body not your brain – though I suppose it doesn’t matter, since you don’t seem to have a fucking brain in the first place. God, why did you drop out of high school, for this of all things?! It’s such a fucking waste. I’m your brother, I’m meant to look out for you, but you make it so difficult, Alex, Jesus—

And his parents never said a word either way. He and his brothers were always the volatile ones in the family, which was odd, considering how peaceful his parents were. Every time he and Scott were trapped in a room together, it was like World War III erupted.

“You should have gone drinking with me, man,” Sean said, breaking Alex’s train of thought. “I don’t remember most of last night, but from what I can, I know it was fucking epic.”

“That’s what you said about that night in Las Vegas, too, you idiot.”

“I stand by that opinion.”

“We woke up covered in peanut butter with only Monopoly money in our wallets.”

“Exactly. Epic.”

Alex shoved Sean’s shoulder with an unrestrained bite of laughter, thoughts of his family, of last night, washing away. It was time to work now, and maybe later, Alex would take up that offer of getting a drink.

(Maybe. He still remembered the aftermaths of Vegas pretty clearly.)

*

Sean watched the professor talk to Alex and Raven. Charles seemed like a decent guy, a little bit British-English, but hey, it could have been worse.

It was a little weird that they were all standing to have a conversation when there were chairs right next to them, but Alex and Sean were wearing skinny jeans that had the capabilities of cutting off circulation to ... vital regions. So standing it was. (Thankfully Sean was wearing a shirt and some kind of hipster scarf; Alex was shirtless, which was par for course when Emma was the photographer.)

Sean wasn’t quite sure how to describe Charles. Part of him was warming up to the guy, but another part of him was still mulling how, upon introduction, the professor had called Sean a mutant because of his red hair.

Then again, from what he could see, Charles had genetics on the brain. Alex seemed to enjoy the topic well enough, and Raven was laughing, so Sean didn’t mind it at all.

“How’d you meet?” Sean asked, gesturing between Charles and Raven.

Charles chuckled, a sound coloured by amusement and embarrassment. “I accidentally wandered on set of a shoot a few weeks ago.”

“One of Erik’s shoots,” Raven added. “The one where he pissed off Janos and made him quit.”

“I heard about that,” Alex said, at the same time Sean said, “Good riddance.” They shared a look and laughed. Neither of them were particularly fond of Janos, who required a fan for half of his bloody shoots so his hair would be fluttering in the breeze. He was a pain the ass to work with.

“Erik was partnerless, Emma was desperate,” Raven continued with a widening grin, “so we pulled Charles off the street and got them to model together.”

“No fucking way,” Sean said. He could feel himself paling. Alex was a little more composed, though his eyebrows were high on his forehead in surprise.

Janos, despite being difficult, was leagues above Erik. Forcing the guy to work with an amateur? That was begging for disaster.

Charles’ cheeks were reddening and Sean was looking at him in a whole new light. He didn’t seem like he was carrying any mental scarring from the incident. Maybe he was suppressing the memories.

“He wasn’t that bad,” Charles said, sounding slightly defensive. “He was a bit abrasive, but you can’t blame him.”

“I’m pretty sure you can,” Raven said. “Erik, on some days, is a soul sucking fiend—”

A deep, calm voice entered the conversation. “I never knew you thought of me like that, Raven.”

Four heads turned simultaneously to see Erik standing next to them, looking indifferent. Emma was pinching the bridge of her nose. They both radiated waves of irritation.

Crap.

*

Emma took the boys away to finish off their session. Raven muttered something about running out of concealer and made a break for it. That left Charles and Erik, together, wondered what the hell just happened.

“Comedians, those three,” Erik said dryly. “Though, to be fair, I’ve heard worse.”

Charles rubbed the back of his head. “They probably didn’t mean it.”

“I don’t know. Raven’s pretty content with voicing her opinions,” Erik mused. “Sean’s no better at shutting up and Alex’s always been a bit of a hot head.”

“You’ve worked with them before?” He looked interested, bright blue eyes earnestly focussed on him.

“Of course,” Erik said. “I’m quite fascinated by other models.” Charles seemed to miss the pointed look Erik threw at him, but that was quite alright. They’d have plenty of time to talk.

“I thought you had a notorious reputation for scaring away partners.”

“Only the stupid ones,” Erik said. Running a hand through his hair, he added, “Which is proven yet again with you here, professor.”

“Should I somehow be flattered by that?” Charles asked, amused.

“You should,” Erik said. He lit up a cigarette and took a deep inhale. “Emma enjoys telling me on a regular basis that I’m the most irritating person alive.”

“That’s not true!” Charles exclaimed, before reddening slightly. “I mean—you’re really not that bad. Every time I say that, people look at me like I’m mad.”

Erik looked Charles up and down slowly, eyes lingering on the curve of his jaw and the line of his shoulders. “You might be mad,” he concluded. “Who am I to say otherwise?”

That pulled a laugh out of Charles, bright and gleeful. Erik didn’t quite smile in response, but it was a close thing. For a moment, they stood and just looked at one another in comfortable silence.

Then Charles cleared his throat and looked away. Raven appeared a split second later and guided Erik into a chair. She started prepping his face; there were bags under his eyes, rather bad ones judging by the half-muttered curses Raven was emitting.

Charles stood to the side, looking unsure of what to do. Though Erik was sure he wasn’t wearing make-up this time, his lips were still utterly fascinating. He tried not to stare, but Charles noticed.

“Um, would you like me to leave?” Charles asked. He didn’t seem uncomfortable, just awkward, which was attractive in a slightly dorky way. Part of him hoped Emma would have them wear glasses on the shoot, just so he could see Charles wearing them...

Erik turned to look at Charles. “You may stay. Raven has to work on you next, regardless.”

From what he could see, Charles didn’t need much. His cheeks were already strangely flushed, his skin smooth and unblemished. The clothes they’d be modelling would be mostly turtlenecks and warm clothes. Perhaps it was due to her namesake, but Frost was good with tailoring winter outfits.

“Me next?” Charles asked, confusion lacing his voice.

“Yes,” Erik said dismissively. The powder brush stilled on his cheek. “Emma did say you wanted to model again. Which is good, because everyone else attempting to model this line with me are all incompetent.”

There was a long, drawn out pause. Erik looked up at Raven, who was looking at Charles, who was looking at him.

“One moment, Erik,” Charles said, turning slowly to face Raven. He directed his next words to her, “We need to have a little chat.”

*

“Please, please, please,” Raven said, trying to beg to Charles without alerting Erik. “I know he’s a bastard, but this is the only way.” She may or may not have let her voice break a little at the end, widening her eyes so they watered, and maybe she wibbled her bottom lip.

When Charles’ stern gaze softened, Raven internally cheered. (Christ, she should have been an actress. She was good.)

“You’re telling me that Erik wanted me back to model with him.”

Raven nodded.

“And when I initially refused, you’re saying that you ‘accidentally’ happened to bring us together.”

Another nod.

“With the expectation to model.”

Raven arranged her features into a suitably contrite expression. It was hard to feel entirely guilty, especially when she could remember the temper tantrums Erik through.

As if reading her mind, Charles said, “That list; was he acting that way—?”

“Yeah. Sort of.” She scrunched her face. “It’s complicated, I think.”

Something that sounded like a soft, resigned sigh escaped Charles. “I’ll do it then.”

Before Raven could leap in joy (or perhaps cry in relief), he raised a hand. “I’m doing it because I don’t mind Erik; he’s not evil, Raven. Next time you need some help, just ask, okay?”

“... Does this mean you might come on set again?”

“Full time?” Charles laughed. “God, no. I have a lot of classes to teach. But as a favour on the odd occasion? I can do that.”

“Thanks, man.”

“No problem. Just, be careful with those scissor things.”

Raven grinned. “They’re just eyelash curlers, Charles.”

“Can you blame me?” Charles asked with a rueful shrug. “I know genetics, not cosmetics.”

“Well, about time you learned the basics, then.”

*

Out of pure interest—okay, and maybe a slightly wicked part of him wanted to see whether Erik would tear Charles to shreds—Alex stayed behind to watch the shoot. He was ... surprised, to say the least. Voices had been raised sparingly, and Emma hadn’t needed to scream at Erik once.

The set was a checkerboard of black and white. There were giant wooden chess pieces, coloured ebony black and ivory white, in the backdrop. Walls of green screen were propped up, though the majority of scene was actually there. Charles was dressed all in light colours, predominantly white, in stark contrast to the dark colours of Erik, blacks and navy blues.

“Oh, I get it,” Sean murmured. He had stayed behind for similar reasons as Alex. “They’re opposing sides of the chess board.”

“Do you know why the knight piece has a javelin running through it?”

“Don’t ask me. Fashion hardly ever makes any bloody sense.”

Rolling his eyes, Alex turned back to see Emma snapping away, barking out orders like a drill sergeant. It was fascinating to watch; not so much fun as a participant.

Earlier, he had asked Raven again whether they were really getting a teacher to stand in front of the camera. Now he could see why Raven was so adamant that Charles could do it. He seemed strangely at ease, comfortable in his own skin. Emma barely needed to tell him what to do, though Charles did need reminding to shut up every five minutes.

“Erik, your blue eyes are mutations!” Charles was saying. “Can’t you see that humans choose their fates? Natural selection—”

“Blue eyes serve no purpose,” Erik interrupted. “Humanity only moves forward when it has goals. Blue eyes, blonde hair, fair skin; these aren’t traits of some master race. They are superficial—”

“That’s the thing! It starts off as superficial, but imagine the possibilities of selective breeding and what mutations that we could see—”

“Dear God,” Emma snapped, “the both of you, shut up and stop moving!”

Charles hands froze mid-gesture, as though he had only realised then that he wasn’t quite controlling his enthusiasm as much as he had thought. A slightly abashed expression crossed his features as he lowered his arms. Erik only smirked and stretched his arms above his head in another pose.

The atmosphere was nice. A sudden thought struck Alex. It was possible that Erik had spoken more in that shoot than he had ever heard before. (On that vein, had he ever seen Erik smile, not just bare his teeth for the camera?)

*

Erik never liked winter. It was cold and wet and reminded him of a time in his life when his mother was sick and dying and he couldn’t do a fucking thing about it. So, no, Erik didn’t like the snow or the ice or the brisk chill of the evening air. It was all so hateful.

Thunder roared around the skies and Erik thought, Brilliant. Rain. Because torrents of cold water just made everything better. He could feel his good mood fading.

A warm hand clapped him on the shoulder, and Erik had to refrain from flinching. He hadn’t been paying attention and was startled. Turning around, he saw Charles looking up at him. Part of him noted how short Charles seemed, or—

“I’ve never quite noticed how tall you are,” Charles said, apparently matching his train of thought.

Erik shrugged. “Have you ever considered that you are just small?”

“Many times, my friend,” Charles replied, grinning widely, unoffended by the jab. “Do you need to go out in the downpour?” He gestured outside with an umbrella.

“Unfortunately, yes.” Erik paused and scowled, “Though I didn’t bring an umbrella myself. The weather report predicted cloud cover, but not rain.”

“I was born in England,” Charles admitted. “Either I’m naturally paranoid about the weather or I picked up a sixth sense.”

“As powers go, that’s not so bad,” Erik mused. “Though it won’t let you take over the world.”

Charles laughed. “True, true. However, I only have an umbrella to offer.”

Erik’s eyebrows rose disbelievingly. “I thought you would need it.”

“I figured we could share. You just need to walk to the parking lot, I presume, and I just need to find myself a taxi.”

Looking outside at the stormy, grey skies, Erik slowly nodded. “That sounds fine.”

“Excellent,” Charles said, opening the umbrella as they both stepped out of doors. Despite giving them a decent amount of cover, Charles and Erik still needed to walk pressed side-by-side, warmth seeping through the layers of clothing.

Perhaps, just maybe, there were reasons to like winter after all.

*

[extra scene]

“I swear to God, I will slaughter whoever’s calling. I am so tired—”

“Emma, it’s me.”

“Jesus, Raven. You better not make this some sort of tradition. It’s so late it’s morning.”

“If you didn’t want to wake up, you’d have put your phone on silent.”

“Too late now, but I’ll remember that.”

“You sound really bitchy when you’re grumpy.”

“Get to the fucking point, Darkholme.”

“I wanted to say, did you notice Erik today?”

“Yeah, he was a spring chicken, wasn’t he?”

“I bet it’s because of Charles. I just realised it today.”

“What, that Erik wants to get in some guy’s pants? This isn’t the first person he’s hit on.”

“This is different.”

“If you start spouting crap about true love, Raven, I will hang up.”

“Not true love, but Charles is a good balancer for Erik. They just click, or something.”

“Yes, I’ll give that to Charles. He entertained Erik for so long, Erik couldn’t remember to be pissy.”

“Exactly, so I’ve been thinking...”

“Never a good thing.”

“Shut up, Emma. Anyway, I think we should get them together—”

“Oh, no. We are not meddling in the love lives of others! Christ, you do remember what happened to Sean that one time, right?”

“Aha! You said ‘love lives’! Even you can’t deny the possibility.”

“It is too early for this.”

“Come on, Emma. Young love! How can you not see it?”

“...”

“I can’t believe she hung up on me.”

҉

A/N: Damn, parts of this are awful. I apologise for the partially stilted prose in areas. And I’m sorry this is so dialogue heavy. D:

That scene between Erik and Charles wasn’t how I initially wrote it. There was cross-dressing in the original, trololol. /shutting up now.

This will be followed up by Spring Edition. Weep in awe at my awesome and totally creative titling skills, ahaha. :D