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Alex took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He couldn’t afford to be nervous, couldn’t afford to be scared, not with everything they had riding on today. If Alex panicked now, if his panic set off his mutation, everything would be lost, but that thought only served to coil the panic in his chest tighter and…
A wave of serenity washed through him, tinged warm with affection and accompanied by the words Calm yourself, my friend.
Alex’s eyes darted across the corridor to where Professor Xavier stood, fingers pressed against his temple and a reassuring expression on his face, though his usual smile was conspicuously absent. Given the gravity of the situation, Alex didn’t blame him at all.
Attempting to infiltrate the imperial palace and then assassinate the emperor was enough to take the smile off any man’s face, especially the Professor.
He and the Emperor had a history, or so the whispers around camp went, though the exact nature of that history was unclear, thought there were numerous theories. Those who’d been around since the start talked about how…broken the man had seemed when he’d first started recruiting.
Alex didn’t believe them though. Professor X was too determined to ever be broken. Sure, he looked soft on the outside, and he might wear his heart on his sleeve, but he was a core of solid steel.
It took serious conviction to leave a person you cared about and start up a rebellion against them. Which was why Alex, unlike some of his cohorts, wasn’t worried about the Professor having the guts to do the deed when the time came. If he’d come this far on belief alone, he sure as hell wasn’t going to back out at the last minute.
Xavier’s lip twitched in what might have been a smile under other circumstances. Thank you, Alex. Your faith in me is refreshing. And yes, I will do exactly what I came here to do. This ends today, one way or another.
And it would – either in the death of the ageless Emperor or in the death of them all.
Xavier gave the signal, and off they went, storming the throne in complete silence, the Professor’s hand held to his temple rendering them all invisible to the occupants of the room.
All the occupants except one, because Magneto was staring straight at them fuck everything.
It doesn’t matter, and Alex could tell by the “echo”y quality of the thought that Xavier was projecting to the group at large. We still have the advantage if the guards can’t see who they’re being attacked by. Move, now.
When Alex turned around, all the guards subdued, he was greeted by the most beautiful sight he had ever beheld. The Professor had clearly used the distraction of their confrontation with the guards to rush Magneto, and, whatever the struggle had been, had immerged victorious. Xavier held the specially designed metal-free knife across his throat.
“Nothing to say? No hidden plans or tricks up your sleeve?”
The Emperor said nothing, which was an answer in and of itself. Magneto was a man who flaunted his victories.
Alex waited with baited breath. This was it. This was the moment he had been waiting for, that they had all been working towards for over ten years now.
Xavier leaned forward, his eyes fixed on Magneto as he opened his mouth to speak what Alex was sure where his final words to his once-friend.
“Checkmate,” he whispered before leaning down to capture Magneto’s lips in a kiss that was possessive and filthy and desperate.
Magneto reached up and wrapped his arms around the Professor, pulling him into his lap, heedless of the knife pressed against his throat. It ceased to be a concern as Xavier dropped the knife in order to clutch at Magneto’s shoulders.
Alex tried to step forward to intervene, tried to call out and demand an explanation, but he found himself frozen and voiceless, incapable of doing anything save breathing and blinking, and even that was outside his own control.
“That’s what, 1023 to 957 in my favor, yes?” Xavier asked breathlessly as he finally pulled away though not very far. He reached up, using the limited space between them to pull the helmet up off Magneto’s head only to drop it carelessly to the floor with a groan as soon as it cleared the other man’s head. “That’s cheating,” he gasped, fingers clenching in the emperor’s hair as the man began to shift.
“206 to 198,” Magneto said as he mouthed at the Professor’s neck, his voice a low growl. “We reset when we left the Milky Way last time.”
Alex’s mouth would have been gaping open if he could move. At the very surface layer, his thoughts were filled with the knee-jerk “oh god no, that’s gross” that came with seeing his father figure engaged in some seriously heavy petting that was starting to boarder on dry-humping.
Beneath that, though, beneath the confusion and fear, Alex felt betrayed. He’d trusted this man. Trusted him, respected him, confided in him, and had come to love him like the older brother who had died in the same conflict that had killed Jean, Alex’s sister in law and the strongest telepath he’d ever met.
Until the Professor.
Professor X, who had organized that raid, had sent his brother and sister-in-law to their deaths. Xavier, who he loved like a father and would have died for in a heart-beat, who now sat astride the man Alex hated more than anyone else, mouths sealed together in a way that made it impossible to doubt the nature of their relationship, finally putting all the rumors to rest.
Alex would have let out a small, hysterical snort if he were able. He owed Sean money.
“Ah, of course,” Xavier managed to get out between kisses, for all that Magneto’s mouth never left his skin for more than a handful of seconds at a time, “How silly of me. I’d nearly forgotten. I was distracted by the view. No matter how many times I see it, space never stops being incredible.”
Space. Space as in the stars. That space.
Xavier gave a contented hum, turning so that he was no longer straddling the Emperor but was instead sprawled in his lap, nestled up against his chest.
“I take it you’ll be developing the space program again?” Magneto asked, reaching down with one gloved hand to brush Xavier’s hair back from where it’s fallen across his eyes.
Xavier let out a small sigh as he burrowed closer Magneto’s arms wrapping around him even tighter as he tugged him nearer.
“Yes, I think I will. I miss space travel. And it’s more fun when we’ve got multiple planets at our disposal – there’s no act of terrorism quite equal to blowing up a planet.”
“Did you enjoy yourself? Lack of planets non-withstanding?” Magneto asked, staring at the Professor with an expression that looked so fucking wrong on his face. Magneto was a hard, uncaring man. This though...the way he looked at Xavier…it was tender, almost painfully so. Desire was easy enough but concern? Devotion? Love? No.
Alex had to fight off the hysterical laughter again. All that time looking for Magneto’s weakness and it had literally been leading the charge. What Alex still didn’t understand was why. Why go through all this trouble? Why bother at all?
“Yes,” Xavier said, smile sharp and blinding. “But I’m glad it’s over. I missed you,” and he gazed up at the Emperor and then the Emperor bent down and kissed him, starting out tender before morphing into something that made Alex want to die of shame right on the spot.
“It was a good match,” the emperor said.
With that, something clicked in Alex’s brain.
Alex, if he’d been in control of his own faculties, would have gaped unattractively. Surely he wasn’t understanding correctly. Surely not.
There was a story. A story older than the world itself, one found throughout all civilizations, the names different, the details always, always the same. The tale of the two beings to whom they all owed their lives, the reason they were here. Beings of the stars who helped them grow and learn. Ageless beings locked in an eternal struggle, creating and destroying over and over again, doomed to repeat the cycle of all of time.
Xavier snorted.
Really now. It’s much simpler than all that. Ruling the world and never aging is all very nice in theory, but in practice it can be terribly dull. I get bored. So Erik and I play games of strategy every 500 years or so to keep me sane. Long games, with high stakes.
A game. Countless lives lost on both sides, and it was a game.
If Alex were in control of his body, he would be shaking with rage. If Alex were in control of his body, the entire palace would be rubble, Xavier and Magneto buried underneath what they had built.
But Alex wasn’t in control of his body. He might not ever be again.
“Wrap this up so I can greet you properly,” Magneto said, mouthing Xavier’s neck, and Alex felt ill. “I haven’t had you in years.”
"It’s not my fault you never cracked the code I left you. You could have ‘captured’ me months ago and ‘tortured’ me for weeks before my rescue showed up.”
“Charles,” Magneto growled.
The telepath rolled his eyes, but held his fingers up to his temple as Alex thrashed violently, trying to escape the man’s mental hold…and everything went dark.
The instant Charles’ acolytes fell like so many puppets with their strings cut, the royal guard not far behind them, Erik pulled away from Charles just enough to work the other man’s shirt over his head, trailing his still-gloved fingers along as much skin as he could in the process, making Charles hiss.
“So,” Erik asked, tossing Charles’ shirt off to the side and hearing it land with a thud somewhere on the dais that held his throne “who do I need to kill for harming you this time around?” he asked, fingers ghosting over a yellow-tinged bruise, no doubt obtained in one of the skirmishes leading up to this final play.
Charles smirked at him, and oh, it was like a punch to the chest to see that expression on his face after so long apart.
“I like them too much to tell you,” Charles responded, rearranging himself so that he was straddling Erik’s lap once again, his ass rubbing against Erik’s cock repeatedly in the process.
“I have ways,” Erik murmured into Charles’ ear, the heat of his back radiating against Erik’s hands as he snaked them upwards, “of making you talk.”
“Do your worst,” Charles shot back, arching up into his hold.
That was a challenge that Erik had no problem accepting.
It was over rather quickly, that first round. It had been nearly a decade starved of each other’s touch and Charles, impossible man that he was, had come prepared for the inevitable conclusion of their final conflict. Still, Erik couldn’t bring himself to regret it. It had taken the edge off enough for them to make it back to bed, (their bed again, finally) and made sure that Erik was able to take his time next round.
“Erik,” Charles hissed under him, back where he belonged, pale skin practically glowing against the dark-blue silk sheets Erik kept for this reason and this reason alone. “Stop teasing. Stop teasing and get in me.”
Erik cocked an eyebrow, uttering a simple “No” as he spread his fingers wide.
I could make you Charles said in his head, mental voice filled with arousal and frustration but most of all love.
“But you won’t,” Erik answered simply, pulling out entirely and shaking his head in fond amusement at the familiar little whimper that Charles made at the loss. “Not tonight.”
Before the telepath had a chance to respond, Erik lined himself up and pressed in slowly, both for Charles’ sake and his own. Once they had both adjusted, he began thrusting slowly, staring down into those impossible eyes he had missed for so long.
He opened his mind for Charles, showing him how much he had been missed, what Erik had done while he had been gone, how right and perfect it felt to have him back, for all that the time they spent apart wasn’t even a notable fraction of the time they had spent together.
Charles opened for him in return, showing him how exciting it was to be challenged, the thrill of planning a campaign knowing he was up against a mind like Erik’s, the genuine joy he felt at every encounter win or loss, the way the lethargy and ennui that had built to unbearable degrees finally fell away. All of it, though, flavored with love and an immense sense of gratefulness.
Thank you, Charles whispered in his head, thank you, thank you, I love you.
Anything for you, Erik though back, staring down at the man who had changed everything, the man who had saved him in every way possible, who had been by his side for so many thousands of years that he had lost track. Anything at all. I love you.
And with that, Charles dragged them both over the edge.
In the aftermath, Charles lay pliant on Erik’s chest, lose and relaxed and radiating his contentment and happiness for all the world to hear.
“So what now?” Erik asked, stroking his hand up and down Charles’ spine. “You won. What will we be up to for the next fifty years?”
Charles hummed thoughtfully. “Democracy, I think. I quite like being called ‘Mr. President.’”
“Will you be running as the beloved Professor? Or someone else?”
“Xavier’s old hat, and he’d be too depressed with Magneto dead,” Charles mused.
“Someone new then.”
“Yes. You’ll make a dashing First Gentleman.”
“I always do,” Erik said, pressing a kiss into Charles’ hair. “How many terms?”
“Just the first, I think. And then I’ll be working to try and get us on track for the stars.”
“Sciences then. For both of us?”
Charles nodded sleepily, curling up against him even tighter. “Not letting you out of my sight again for at least a century.”
Erik let out a soft laugh. “The feeling is more than mutual, schatz. Now sleep.”
Missed you Charles thought at him, with the mental equivalent of the shake of a head, but the fact that he was too tired to verbalize the thought when they had been talking aloud previously spoke volumes.
“I’ll still be here in the morning, love. Besides, you need to be well-rested. You have a world to rule.”
Charles grumbled, but sleep soon claimed him.
Erik didn’t allow it the same power over him, instead spending the night staring down at the man in his arms. He could spend forever like this, wrapped up in Charles, ruling with him when they pleased and fighting against him when Charles needed it but always, always loving him.
If Erik had anything to say about it, forever was exactly how long it would be.
Alex stood at his balcony, staring out at the gleaming streets the capitol unable to believe it. They’d done it. They’d actually done it.
It had been months since the raid on the palace, months since Charles Xavier had rid the world of Magneto. Months of scrambling to pick up the pieces, trying to rebuild the world for the ground up after having torn down the rotten supports that had held it up for longer that anyone could remember – centuries, at the very least.
In all that scrambling, there hadn’t really been any time for Alex process that they’d done it. They’d actually done it.
Xavier had refused the office of emperor or even king, saying that if anything were to change, the people would have to take control for themselves, make their own decisions, create their own laws and decide how those laws were created and who would enforce them. He’d been a part of the proceedings at the beginning, but he’d slowly faded further and further into the background as time went on. Alex would be more worried, but he knew the Professor and the now dead emperor had been close. And, quite frankly, he didn’t really have time for concern. These past few months, they’d been scrambling to put something together, a framework upon which to build this new world.
Today marked the culmination of all that work.
The inauguration might have felt endless under other circumstances, but as it was Alex could barely keep his pride contained, feeling as if he might burst with it. They’d done it. They’d actually done it.
Alex shed a tear when the first president was sworn in.
The man in question came over and embraced him at the gala afterwards, pulling back but keeping a firm hold of his shoulders as he pulled away, beaming down at him with pride.
“Congratulations, Mr. President,”
“Oh Alex,” he said with a smile. “How many times do I have to tell you to call me…”
“Charles?” an unfamiliar voice said as a man approached.
Charles released Alex, turning to the newcomer with a brilliant smile. The man wrapped his arms around Charles and pulled him in for a deep kiss that toed the line of decency.
“Hello love,” the newcomer whispered once he finally pulled away, forehead resting against Charles’ in an easy intimacy that made Alex ache a little to see.
Charles smiled a besotted smile before seemingly remembering himself and pulling away slightly, the two now arm in arm instead of embracing. “Alex, this is Erik. Erik this is Alex Summers.”
“Pleasure,” the man said with a curt nod.
Alex narrowed his eyes as he studied the man before him.
“Have we met before?”
Erik’s lips twitched briefly, but he shook his head. “No, we’ve never been introduced.”
“Well, now that I’ve corrected that oversight, why don’t you two get to know each other? I want to discuss something with Hank.” Seeing Alex’s curious gaze, he elaborated. “I want to talk to him about the possibility of exploring the stars.”