Work Text:
Eric is tired.
He is tired, and cold, and he just wants to be home in bed, where it is warm, comfortable and most of all quiet. He is sick of having to deal with obnoxious classmates all day, having to deal with boisterous, rude and chatty customers all afternoon at work, and by the time he gets to Emma's house to do some serious studying for the upcoming finals on Wednesday, he is too tired to deal with anything else, but he forces his mind to continue, to power through the material. Now, at the ungodly hour of five in the morning, he is finally pushing open the door to his single bedroom apartment.
No sooner than the door is open and he is inside, his cat, Stanley, is brushing up against his leg, letting out a meow, reminding him that he had forgotten to stop by after work to feed him. He reaches down and gives the cat a scratch on the head.
“Alright, alright, I'm sorry. I'll feed you now.”
He dumps all of his stuff off at the door, too tired to deal with it now, and pads into the kitchen, navigating the dark hall with ease. He flips on the small light above the stove and goes over to the cupboard to grab the container of cat food. He pours out a cup into the empty bowl, expecting the cat to dive right in but then he realizes the cat hadn't followed him. It's unusual but he decides he is too tired to care.
He heads out of the kitchen and into the living room, where he finds his cat staring at him from the couch, perched on top of something. Erik squints as his eyes adjust and that's when he realizes that the lump his cat is sitting on is human shaped. He lunges for the light switch without thinking, heart thundering in his chest as he realizes there is an unknown person in his apartment.
Light floods the apartment, and the figure on the couch flinches, bringing their arms up to cover their face. The cat startles and runs off.
“Fucking Christ,” the person moans, rolling over to face the back of the couch. “Moira turn the goddamn lights off”
Erik goes from being on the offensive, tensed and ready to fight a burglar, to confused. The person, while not belonging on his couch, does not look like he will attack. Doesn't even seem like he would stand a chance against Erik if he tried, either.
“Moira? Who's Moira?” Erik asks, backing up a little and watching the man on his couch tense up, slowly looking over his shoulder to peek at Erik. He looks as confused as Erik is feeling, maybe even more so.
“... You're not Moira.” He turn over to fully face Erik now, who can't help but notice that his unexpected guest has strikingly blue eyes.
“I think we've established that.”
“Yes, right, sorry. I must admit I'm still a bit drunk, higher forms of thinking aren't really my strong suit at the moment.” He winces as he sit ups, “If it's not any trouble, would you mind turning the lights off please?”
Erik doesn't want to oblige this stranger, but the way he is holding his head makes Erik think twice, taking pity on him and flipping the lights off.
“Thank you my friend.”
Erik takes a few steps forward so he is now only a few feet away from the strange man on his couch, who looks up and smiles at him awkwardly and Erik is caught on the stray thought that this man is quite attractive. He gets the impression that the stranger thinks the same back, if the not-so subtle once over he gives Erik is any indication.
“My name is Charles. Charles Xavier. It's nice to meet you?” he poses it as a question, and Erik himself is wondering if it is nice to meet Charles. Its nice to have a name to put to the face anyway.
“Erik.” He extends his hand for Charles to shake, which he does. “What are you doing in my apartment?”
Charles looks around again, taking in the scene. “Yes, right, this is definitely the wrong place. I guess I hadn't realized earlier.”
“No, really?” Erik says sarcastically, raising a brow at Charles, who laughs.
“Sorry my friend, you see I was having a few drinks, okay maybe more than a few” he admitts when Erik's brow remains raised. “but I ended up getting pretty drunk and I thought I should find my way to Moira's house, and I thought I had gotten the right place but...” he just shrugs. “I was wondering when Moira had gotten a cat.”
Erik nods. “That's Stanley. He just kinda showed up one day and stayed.”
“Kind of like me?” Charles asks, his voice taking on a lower quality, his eyes shining brighter in the dark.
“Do you intend to stay?” Erik asks, again without really thinking about it, but he doesn't regret his words. He's realized he wouldn't mind it if Charles did end up staying.
Charles smirks, “If you'll let me.”