It was sudden, but Erik had hit breaking point. Charles hadn’t really done anything to warrant such an abrupt action on Erik’s part, but Erik couldn’t ignore the way Charles’ eyes lit up in hope or darkened with worry. He couldn’t ignore the way Charles’ lips quirked in response to his thoughts. He couldn’t ignore the passion that had grown between them since day one.
So here they were, Charles pressed against a wall with Erik’s hands down his trousers. “Charles?” Erik questioned in response. His lips were brushing Charles’ ear. “Feel free to tell me to stop.” But Charles wouldn’t. Erik was fairly sure of that.
It was, in Charles's opinion, completely unfair that the other man had to sound so goddamned attractive when he spoke into his ear like that. His fingers found purhcase on the other man's shoulders, clenching in the fabric of his shirt as if he couldn't quite decide if he wanted to pull him in close or push him away. Did he want this? God yes, more than he cared to admit. A hysterical part of him wondered if he was having some sort of vivid dream.
"If I feel the need to, I will," he managed, voice deceptively even. He was certain Erik could tell, despite his better efforts. His heart was racing, breath coming out in small hitches. Charles was no shrinking violet, but he was only human, and those clever fingers seemed to have a way of cracking his facade of control.