Work Text:
Everyone who worked in the Engineering Division at Stark Industries agreed Erik Lehnsher was a demanding, irascible sonovabitch. That he was good at his job was beside the point.
He’d only joined the company a few months before, coming in as a senior VP after leaving a similar position at a company upstate. It was said Tony Stark had hired him personally, g-d only knew why.
No one knew much about him, and he seemed to like it that way. The man said almost nothing that wasn’t work-related. He seemed inhuman, an automaton. Sean, one of the interns, started a rumor that he was an Evil Robot Overlord come to scout the planet for invasion.
There was only one problem with that theory. Tony Stark would surely have figured out a way to reprogram him into something a little friendlier.
So the entire division was learning to tread carefully around him, though in all fairness, he might be an ill-tempered perfectionist with impossibly high standards, but he wasn’t mean. Neither was he unfair. He applied those rigorous standards to everyone in equal measure, including himself.
A new rumor had just started, probably also courtesy of Sean, that Lehnsherr was a were-shark, and indeed the man’s smile was predatory and showed far too many teeth. Lehnsherr smiling was never a good thing.
Or so everyone thought until the first time Lehnsherr’s husband came to the office.
They’d known he was married -- the broad hammered-gold band was impossible to miss -- but had known nothing more. Any and all attempts to inquire about his spouse had been ruthlessly shut down. Not even Emma herself, the queen of ferreting out information, had had any success. No one even knew the gender of said spouse.
So when a devastatingly-handsome man in a wheelchair arrived on the twelfth floor just before noon one day, no one thought to associate him with Lehnsherr.
He came off the center elevator and glanced about uncertainly. He really was almost unfairly good-looking. Wavy chestnut hair that tumbled nearly to his shoulders, luminous ivory skin dusted with tawny freckles, lips the color of fresh raspberries, and eyes like the finest sapphires.
Emma pounced. She sashayed over like the queen she was and gave him her friendliest -- okay, she didn't really do friendly, but it was her best attempt --- smile. “Can I help you, sugar?”
He smiled back at her, and it was damned near enough to make her swoon. “I hope so,” he said, and g-d but his voice was better than his smile, a velvety baritone with a posh English accent. “I’m here to meet my husband for lunch.”
No one in the division had a husband that looked like this. “You sure you’re on the right floor?”
Lines appeared between his winged dark brows. “I hope so. This is the Engineering Division, yes?”
“Yes.” Emma drew the word out as she wondered just who the hell this man was.
“Then I’m on the right floor. My husband is one of the VPs, Erik Lehnsherr. I’m Charles Xavier.”
“Emma Frost.” This gorgeous creature was married to Lehnsherr? It was almost enough to make Emma faint. “I’ll show you to his office.”
She set off across the floor, a little slower than usual to give herself time to grill the man. “So,” she began, mock-casual, “how long have the two of you been married?”
“Eight years,” he answered. “We got married a week after it became legal in New York.”
“You don’t look old enough to have been married eight years.” He really didn’t.
Xavier chuckled. “I’m only two years younger than Erik.”
And according to his personnel file, Erik was thirty-seven.
“So what do you do?”
To her surprise, Xavier blew out a sigh and muttered, “God but I hate that question.”
Emma paused, turned to look at him. “Why?”
Xavier stopped quickly to avoid running her down. “Because I haven’t worked in eight months.”
She said nothing but her gaze flicked to the wheelchair.
“Yeah,” he confirmed.
She turned and continued on, giving him the choice to explain or not.
He didn’t disappoint her. ”I spent nearly five months in hospitals and rehab facilities, and I'm still not fully recovered. Some days it still takes everything I've got to chase after our daughter."
Daughter? "You have a daughter?"
"Lorna. She's three."
Emma might have pressed for details, but unfortunately they were now mere feet from Erik's office. The door was open, so she rapped on the wooden frame. "Erik? Your husband is here."
Erik's head jerked up. For once his changeable eyes weren't ice-cold, and they warmed even more as he caught sight of his husband. "Hey, Honey," he said, his normally stern voice all-but-caressing the words as his lips curved into an affectionate smile. "You made it."
"I did." Emma heard a note of pride in his voice. "The hand controls still feel a little strange, but it was nice to be able to go somewhere on my own."
Erik realized then that she was still there, and he locked eyes with her for a moment. Go.
She made a strategic retreat.
~xXx~
The entire floor was abuzz with speculation about Lehnsherr and his hot spouse the moment the pair left for their lunch date. As the only one to have spoken to Lehnsherr's husband, almost the only one to have even seen him, Emma was the center of attention.She loved being the center of attention.
She held court in the break room, sipping an iced vanilla latte and relaying what she'd learned. 'You wouldn't have recognized him," she said. "He smiled, and not like a shark on the hunt, and he called Charles 'Honey.'"
"Eww," Sean said, miming gagging.
"Never thought he had it in him," Alex muttered. "He's such a bastard."
"Aw, man, this all makes sense now," Armando observed.
"What does?" Alex again, sounding annoyed that he was missing something.
"Why Lehnsherr's so tough on all of us. He doesn't want Stark to fire him because he needs the health insurance."
SI's benefits were top-notch.
"He took this job for the insurance?" Angel scoffed as she filed her nails.
Armando persisted. "It makes sense. Emma, you said Charles got hurt eight months ago?"
She nodded.
"And that he's still recovering. So Lehnsherr would need a job with good insurance. And a good salary to carry them through until Charles starts working again."
"What did he do, anyway? Did he say?"
Emma shook her head. "Sorry, sugar."
Armando tapped quickly on his StarkPad, studied the results. "I think I found him. He was a genetics professor at a little college outside of Buffalo." He turned the tablet around to show Emma. "Is this him?"
"Yes. His hair is longer now, but that's definitely him." She skimmed the article, summarizing aloud. "He was on his way home from campus one night last February when he was t-boned by another car."
"Drunk driver?" Alex asked.
"Distracted. Texting." Emma continued skimming. "He was still in critical condition when this was written. They didn't think he would make it."
"Can you imagine what Lehnsherr must have been like? He must've been pissed at the whole world."
Emma shuddered. She really didn't want to think about it. Lehnsherr was bad enough as it was.
~xXx~
Over the next weeks, Charles Xavier made more appearances on the twelfth floor, charming everyone he met. His bright blue eyes, his easy smile, his ability to connect with everyone he met, made him as popular as his husband was feared.
He even brought their daughter, an annoyingly adorable little toddler that also charmed most of the staff.
Emma herself was immune.
At least to the moppet. Xavier himself was harder to resist. Everyone loved him. Especially the grumpy bastard.
Emma was still amazed how Lehnsherr's personality shifted when his husband came around. He was actually almost nice, still a little gruff and abrupt, but no longer an angry asshole.
He was in full asshole mode right now, in a toe-to-toe screaming match with the big boss, Tony Stark.
Most everyone on the floor had gathered in mute witness, disbelieving the sheer vehemence and vitriol of the fight.
"Man, he's gonna get fired for sure." Armando broke the silence, giving voice to what they were all thinking.
Just then Lehnsherr's office door was yanked open. Tony Stark stormed out, slamming the door behind him. He glowered at his gathered employees. "What?" he demanded.
"Please don't fire him," Sean said, his voice a nervous squeak. "We all know he needs this job."
"Why would I fire him?" Stark seemed genuinely perplexed. "And what do you mean, 'he needs this job?'"
"For the insurance." Sean's voice was marginally less squeaky. "Because of his husband."
"You think Erik works here for the health insurance?" Tony Stark laughed. No, he roared, folding nearly double, chest against his thighs, nearly landing on his ass. Whoops, no, make that landing on his ass. Tears streamed down his face, and he rocked back and forth as he fought to recompose himself.
When he was calm enough to speak, though still gasping a bit, he said, "Erik works here because he likes it. Charles is richer than me, and that's saying something."
"Charles is a sugar daddy?" Armando asked, brows arching.
Stark nodded.
From that day forward, it became a game among the staff to sneak jars of honey or packets of sugar onto Lehnsherr's desk. If he figured out the reason why, he never let on.
They were all pretty sure Charles knew, but those plush ruby lips stayed sealed.
At least in public. No one, repeat no one, wanted to think about what those lips might do behind closed doors.
Well, Emma wanted to, and did, but she was kinky that way.
