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The very first thing Erik remembers is the feel of Charles' cotton shirt clutched tightly between his fingers. Trembling with relief, one of his hands circle up to grasp the professor's neck, pulling him even closer. For a minute, they're alone in their own thoughts and ragged breathing.
"I thought," Erik chokes, "I thought he had killed you."
With a shaky grin, Charles rubs comforting circles into his back. "I'm alright, I'm alright. I'm fine- fine. See?"
Carefully, he draws back, and Erik gets a full view of his blue, blue eyes. He feels like sobbing, but Magneto is stronger than that. Even so, his vision starts to blur with what's unmistakably hitting him.
The shirt is a nice lilac color. It suits Charles nicely. And he's been wearing it since he was forced to send a message to everyone on the planet, nearly survived being possessed by Apocalypse, mentally beaten bloody by the ancient mutant-
But now, besides a single smudge of dirt, there's no evidence of the destruction and possible world annihilation the X-Men stopped. It's unnerving. And Erik is completely overwhelmed by how fast things have moved. With utmost care, he gently touches the painful burns on the side of Charles' head, feeling a sudden spike of anger rolling through his chest. "Did he do this to you?"
"He's gone now," is the quiet reply, and someone is stroking his face, making him see something other than red. "He's gone."
Then Charles pulls him in for a kiss, and it's needy and desperate, a collision of fevered lips and skillfull fingers. The professor tastes of ash and blood and tears mingled together, but it's still beautiful, and Erik cannot get enough. He rejoices in the feel of Charles, bruised and scarred, but Charles nonetheless.
It's quiet. One telepathic boy with kind eyes and one edgy metal-working mutant. They make quite the duo.
"It's alright," Charles whispers, and holds Erik as he cries everything out into his lilac shirt.