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Charles was adept with a gun; he knew how to use it,he knew how to wield it excellently, but that didn't mean he ever enjoyed it. Especially now when he had to question at an extremely compromising situation a handsome man like this one. Lehnsherr sat in a wooden chair, arms tied on his back, feet tied to the legs of the chair, staring at him defiantly. "I'm only going to repeat myself once, Lehnsherr," He says in a calming voice, slowly lifting his gun to point at his opponent's forehead. "How many of Shaw's men did you off and where do I find him?" Charles had read the files, he knew Lehnsherr was only interested in Shaw as a personal vendetta, a vigilante. Well, MI6 can't have that, now can they?
Erik sat stiffly in the chair. He'd lost feeling in his hands some time ago, but he'd long since taught himself to tolerate pain. This was a minor discomfort, really. He hadn't said a word, not a single word since the man before him -- Xavier, he was certain the man had said -- began to ask questions. Erik had no intention of speaking aloud anything about Sebastian Shaw. Oh, he knew well the man needed to be brought to justice, but he didn't trust any governmental organization to do the job correctly. Not to mention watching someone else take him down wouldn't be nearly as satisfying. The moment the cold metal of the gun touched his forehead, he fixed his eyes on Xavier’s face, not once flinching. He kept his mouth shut, and there was the barest hint of a smirk there. He had faith he wouldn't be shot, not yet.
Goddammit, Charles thinks, slightly digging the gun on Lehnsherr's forehead. This man is either insane, confident or completely suicidal. He says, sighing in defeat. He drops the gun from his head and puts it back in the holster. "I don't want to hurt you, you've been nothing but a mere line in Shaw's much grander scheme, but somehow you seem to always be one step ahead of us," He says, all the while dragging a chair and sitting right in front of Lehnsherr. "How do you manage that now, you being a one man army?"
Killing him now wouldn't help Xavier or his mission in any way, Erik was confident in that. He shrugged his shoulders as best as he could given the tied position of his hands. "I don't mind going outside the lines." He said simply. He had no intention of giving away any actual information about his own self appointed missions, but giving half truths and somewhat cryptic responses wouldn't be so bad. It might even keep him entertained until he found a way out of here.
Charles would smirk if he didn't want to bash this man's head in. Was he an idiot? What was the point of not sharing the information of a man you want dead? It would forever astound Charles. He nearly rolls his eyes and pulls his sleeves up, a nervous habit he'd taken up in training. "We can certainly see that," He says, leaning closer, resting his elbows on his knees. "But you haven't answered my question now, have you, Lehnsherr?"
Erik chuckled to himself, ducking his head for a moment. He shook his head before lifting it, once again meeting the agent's eyes defiantly. "With your penchant for stating the obvious, I can't imagine how you haven't cracked this case yet." He said dryly.
"Funny, pointing out flaws and tactics in order to make me nervous, never seen that before," Charles says sarcastically. "You're an interesting thing, Lehnsherr. You barely exist on anything. No trace, no life, no medical history or even social security number. No bank accounts, no nothing. You're a ghost, and yet here you are, refusing to give out the information of a man we both want dead," He looks up to see Lehnsherr smirking, defying him. He wants to smack him. "Help me understand this phenomenon. Instead of cooperating with us to reach our mutual goal, you mean to keep it to yourself, why?"
"I'm almost positive that telling you why would completely negate the purpose of keeping information from you in the first place." Erik said simply with another difficult shrug of his shoulders. He shifted in the chair as best as he could, though with his ankles also tightly bound there was little use. He'd tolerate the discomfort longer if he had to.
With a thin line crossing his mouth, Charles stands up. "Are you going to force me to use a various series of methods to get the information out of you, Mr. Lehnsherr?"
"Now, bear with me, my English isn't all that good --" Erik said, though his English was perfect. He had always had an ear for languages. Spanish, French, anything really. Still, he could see he was getting under Charles' skin and it fueled him on. "But if I'm understanding correctly, I'm not in a position to be forcing you to do anything." He tugged at his bonds in illustration. "However, if you choose to use such methods ..."
He wastes no time, with a quick and elegant swing of his right hand, Charles manages to cock at the back of Lehnsherr's head with the butt of his gun. "See what you forced me to do while refusing to cooperate?"
Erik didn't recover quite as quickly from the blow as he would have liked. His head fell forward and for a moment he swore he couldn't see right. Instantly a dull ache began in the back of his head, but again, he reminded himself that was a temporary discomfort. He could endure. "What abilities I must have ..." He paused, drawing in a breath. "To make you do such things."
"You are extraordinary yes," Charles replies, he walks towards the back of the chair and leans it back, yanking Lehnsherr by his short, yet managing hair. He stares into those green-eyes that may or may not have a swirl of gray on them. Extraordinary indeed. "Now, if you could cut the bullshit confident macho man act for a second, you can come to reason that cooperating with MI6 would be extremely beneficial for all of us."
For a moment, Erik gritted his teeth. Had this been an entirely different circumstance he would have rather enjoyed feeling those hands tugging hard at his hair. He would have been lying if he had said the agent before him didn't look exactly like the type he'd want to go to bed with. But this wasn't seeking brief physical release, this was far more important. He met Xavier’s eyes and chuckled, though it sounded pained. "Perhaps you could see reason then ... That letting me go will give you exactly what you want - Sebastian Shaw dead."
Charles noticed something change within him, it wasn't the pain and he couldn't exactly pinpoint the thought, but he noticed. He grips his hair tighter. "We can't have that. A vigilante killing the man who singlehandedly destroyed three super-powered cities in less than three months. He needs to be brought to justice, for the families who lost loved ones in the bombings to have a sense of justice. Jail time, maybe execution, whoever the jury wields it." He can see something click in Lehnsherr's eyes, but Charles has a moral compass to strong to break... although right now, he could hinge it less tight. "It isn't convenient to anyone for this man to be taken out out of some personal vendetta. What did he do? Steal money? Betrayed a business deal?"
"Maybe execution." Erik said through clenched teeth. The dull, throbbing pain in the back of his head was enough to keep him grounded. He didn't bother to try to pull his head away. His range of motion was limited as it was, wouldn't allow a whole lot of distance anyway. "That's hardly reassuring." He scoffed. "He deserves so much more than jail time and you damn well know it." His eyes flashed murderously at Charles' last questions but he didn't answer. That was none of anyone's business.
"That isn't for either me or you to decide," He answers, but Charles agrees. Charles agrees so fucking hard it nearly kills him to be so violent with this man who only wants the same thing he does. There's something passionate behind those eyes, though. Behind that tense body, behind those words. He lets go of Lehnsherr’s hair.
Erik's chair rocked back into place and he shook his head. He immediately regretted the movement and stilled. "Like I said, I do not fear going outside the lines." He said, moving his gaze to stare straight ahead. He fixed his eyes on the wall in front of him and didn't say anything else. He wasn't going to help them retrieve Shaw only to fail at giving him what he deserved.
"At least... at least help me understand why," Charles says, taking his previous seat. His hand nearly touches Lehnsherr's leg, which made him flinch. Bingo, Charles thought, smirking as he looks up. I got you, He leans his left elbow on his knee as his right hand rests on Lehnsherr's knee, slowly moving up to his lower thigh and staying there; he hears Lehnsherr's breath hitch. "I need to know something that I can bring to MI6, just give me anything. I sincerely see this going nowhere."
Erik did not move his gaze from the wall, not this time. He stiffened at the hand to his knee, to his thigh and his breath got just a little quicker. It wasn't an unusual tactic, and he wasn't going to let that of all things get to him ... At least not enough to get him to share what he knew. He pretended to give it some real thought. "Something?" He asked, his tone purposefully tentative. "I can't ..." He forced himself to sigh. "I can give you only this," He said and met Xavier’s gaze again. "I believe in English you'd say ... Fuck you." He said simply, and promptly shut his mouth, looking back to the wall.
The grin that managed to worm its way to Charles face could nearly be described as chaotic. He was getting there, festering under his skin. Whatever this was, it was working out for his benefit. "Well if you insist," He says, trying to drawl out his posh English accent as much as possible. "I mean, I usually don't incline to sleep with my hostages, but I think I am willing to make an exception out of this phenomenal case. I mean, no offense, Mr. Lehnsherr, but you are quite handsome."
Erik snorted. He didn't look away from the wall, but the amusement was there on his face. "Oh are you?" He drawled out. "How generous of you. I've always wanted a quick fuck in an interrogation room." The amusement showed as equally on his face. He knew he was good looking, and the very same could be said for his captor. "Though I do wonder just how your superiors might feel about that?" He taunted.
"Well, they're not really here to comment, now are they?" He says, biting his lower lip. He was threading into deep waters, he knew this but there was something exciting about this. About the possibility of actually being this type of agent, not that anyone back at the base had to know, it would only be his to keep.
"Mm, no they aren't." If this was where this was going, Erik wasn't sure he'd complain. Granted he still wouldn't share vital information about Shaw, but who was he to turn this down? It wasn't as if the mere grip in his hair hadn't piqued his interest marginally. "I suppose I should be awfully flattered that you're willing to bend the rules to fuck." He snorted, eyes flicking towards the agent.
Charles smiles; he doesn't know whether it was genuine or in order to seem confident, somehow he recognized it as both in an odd mix. "You'll have to be willing to share at least share something first, in order for this matter to be truly happen fairly. Not that I don't take you as an honest man, but I am throughout if I am to be considered something," He smiles, standing up and lowering his body to cut Lehnsherr's ankles from the rope that held them. "How about we make this more interesting?"
"More interesting?" Erik asked. "You mean tying me down and hitting me didn't make it interesting enough?" He asked dryly. He glanced around the room for a moment, shifting his legs the moment he could. God it felt good to be able to move them again. "And how do you propose we do that?" He considered what bit of meaningless information he could pawn off. Was it really worth it?
"Oh, pish posh. If I could make things less bloody, that would be wonderful." He says, coming back up. "I meant in a more... beneficial way, if you will." He sets the knife aside and discard the rope. "You tell me a piece of information, I do whatever you want, granted within my limitations, and we go like that all the way up to you actually fucking me," He says with a grin that's too malicious to wear, but there's a faint feeling of righteousness in it. "And by that passion you seem to displayed earlier, you better be a damn well lover too."
Erik paused before laughing outright. "Pardon me, Agent, but that is your grand proposal?" He said, fingers flexing where his hands were still bound. "You're assuming that the chance to fuck you is really worth delivering up all of the information I've got." He tipped his head back for a moment, still reveling in the feeling of his legs being freed.
"You don't have to take it," Charles says relaxed. "We can just resume our previous back and forth, but that would be rather boring and would further neither of us, now would it?" He sits back again, letting Erik look at him, the way his sleeves had been pushed back to his elbows, revealing strong arms. The way his dark hair was disheveled, his blue eyes shining and strong, he licks his lower lip for emphasis. "And you don't have to fuck me, I could just suck your cock until the point of climax, and right where you're about to hit, I stop. Leaving you hard, throbbing, in pain..."
"It wouldn't further either of us, no." Erik agreed. "But your way earns you valuable information and the chance to cheat me out of what's mine." He remarked. "And what am I left with?" He laughed again, though the sound had little humor to it. Oh, god had it been any other day he'd have had the agent several times by now. He swore Xavier was the type of person he could really let himself get lost in while fucking around with him. But this wasn't some person he'd found to fuck.This was his last chance to get at Shaw before law enforcement took that away from him.
"You're right, that does leave you rather empty handed," Charles says, musing for a second. "How about a day ahead, start? I let you go and I only inform MI6 of the information granted tomorrow instead of immediately?"
That caught Erik off guard. He hadn't expected an offer like that. He seldom trusted anyone though, and gave pause before he spoke. "How do I know you'll give me that day?" He asked seriously. "You'll be sorry if I go after him and I find I've got a tail, or that you've sent out people to stop me."
Charles chuckles darkly. "I trust that after this, you won't have the energy to go after Shaw right at the second, but you have my word as an MI6 agent. If you want to be more civil about it..." Charles stands and unplugs any camera or recording, anything to compromise him. Not that he would have given these anyway, but it was more of a show. He comes back to Lehnsherr, sitting in front of him. "My name's Charles."
Erik lifted an eyebrow, considering Charles for a moment. He supposed he could always attempt to incapacitate Charles once he was free ... Or better yet, after they'd had a little fun. He wasn't going to give up the chance to kill Shaw. "Erik," He said simply. "Though you did already know that."
"I did not actually," He replies. "I was only given brief information and 'Lehnsherr', your name suits you."
"Assuming it is my real name of course." Erik remarked. It might as well have been. It had been a very long time since he'd last gone by anything else. He shifted. "Now, are you going to untie my hands or am I expected to do all of this tied down?" He asked with a little smirk.
"I'm a fan of both, really," Charles says. "But I already untied your feet, so I expect something in return. Then I'll maybe untie your hands, or take of my shirt, or undo your belt, it all depends on the intel I receive from you."
Erik wasn't sure he was quite ready to offer anything real just yet. He didn't know if any of this was going to be worth it. Was he making a mistake? If nothing else, he'd give Charles anything, even false information and take advantage when he was free. "I have the exact coordinates of his base." He said simply. "And I know when he'll be there next."
"Good enough," Charles says. "What do you want me to do? I'm not untying your hands, not yet. That's for the big prize."
Erik did not hide his displeasure. His hands unbound was exactly what he wanted. He leaned his head back for a moment then. "Take off that ridiculous jacket then." He said simply. "It's not remotely cut in a style that fits you." He shrugged.
"And you're going to criticize my clothing while I strip, pity," He says, taking it off, never taking his eyes off of Erik. "Next,"
Erik tipped his head to the side, watching Charles slip the jacket off. "It is impossible to get to his base by car."
"Demand?" Charles asked, pleased with these results.
"Boots, along with your trousers." Erik said simply. He didn't have time to fuck around. Well ... He supposed he did indeed have time for just that but he was unwilling to wait longer than he had to. Years he'd had to wait for his opportunity for revenge after all.
He does as asked. He leans down and takes off his boots and pants, leaving him in his underwear and button down white shirt. "How about I start undressing you while you give me another point?"
"That eager to have me stripped?" Erik asked. He continued, choosing to keep his hints as vague as possible. So far he didn't believe he was giving enough to hurt his mission. "He will have at least two others with him."
"Threatening enough for a squad or good enough for an agent or two?" He asked, running his hands down Erik's chest, unbuttoning his shirt, running a hand on his hair, pushing it back. "And as a reply to your little comment, I just see it as a bit unfair that I am half naked while you are still fully clothed."
"I'm the one tied to a chair." Erik deadpanned. "I'm willing to bet the odds are still in your favor." He remarked simply. He could feel the cool air of the interrogation room on his chest then as it fell open. "It would depend on who he has with them, but they aren't as easy to kill as some of his other men were."
"Dully noted," Charles says, taking his shirt off, not bothering to ask Erik for what else he wanted this time. "Any names you could throw out? About his men, not anything else."
Erik gave a little smirk. He didn't hide the way his eyes swept over Charles' now bared chest, enjoying the view. "Sebastian Shaw." He said as if this were news. He certainly wasn't willing to give anything else. Not yet. That was far too valuable.
"You think you're funny," Charles said, not removing anything else. "Just one name, just one."
“That was one name." Erik said simply. He gave a shrug of his shoulders.
"Comedian doesn't suit you, Erik," He says, grinning. "You're too handsome for that."
"No?" Erik asked. "Now there's two careers you've tried to take from me. If I cannot be a comedian, nor a vigilante, what can I be then?"
"I don't know you personally to answer that question," He smirks. He won't let Erik infuriate him, especially now that the possibility of actually getting this man inside of him is incredibly high. "I'm not doing anything else until you give me something, then after that, no more names, just vague details."
"Emma Frost." Erik said simply. Of any of them, Emma was easiest to give up. He planned, of course, on taking more of Shaw's men down after Shaw himself had fallen. He only wanted some of the older players, and tossing out his right hand woman was easy.
"Emma Frost," Charles repeated, remembering it. He had heard that the Frost company might have been involved, but no clear evidence had yet been found. He moves his hands and undoes Erik's belt, he leans down and takes off his shoes and socks as well. "Now, to the vague details."
Erik shifted, now able to feel the cool concrete under his feet. He was close to being completely bare - though he still had his trousers. Charles was in his underwear alone now. Strange how commanding of a presence the other had even in his underclothes. That was much more arousing than he wanted to give notice to. "Twelve." He replied with no further explanation.
"I can’t have anything based on a sole number," Charles says. "At least give me something less vague. Is that how many cities he's planning to destroy? How many companies are behind him? How many men he's willing to keep close?"
"You asked me earlier how many of his men I have killed myself. Twelve." Erik shrugged. "If you're asking about actual players in the game, people of importance, it's twelve." Counting others, those who didn't really matter in all of this, there were much, much more.
"Perfect, twelve and twelve." Charles says, turning the cold down, making the room less freezing since he's about to be almost completely naked soon enough. It's a bit embarrassing how excited he actually is at this prospect, the vague exoticism of the situation dawning upon him. He yanks down Erik's trousers until he sits only in his underwear as well. "We have two articles of clothing between us and your hands are still tied, you better give me three good ones before anything else comes into play."
Erik ran over everything he knew in his head. What could he possibly give without giving it all away? He frowned, trying to really give something good without giving it all away. He supposed he could always lie. An outright lie, perhaps not ... But a half truth ... "Half past nine." He began. "That is the time he'll make his approach."
Charles takes that with a grain of salt, the information is too important to be given out completely whole, but the selfish, unprofessional part of him is so desperate right now. He chucks it back, he'll just have the team earlier established. He smiles and takes his underwear off shortly. "Two more, Lehnsherr. We're close."
For a moment he simply took his time, enjoying the view before him. He would have been lying if he had said he wasn't eager to fuck Charles, to bend him over and really give him a good pounding. But he also would have been lying if he'd said that under the right circumstances and in the right place, Charles Xavier could have easily had him on his knees. "He'll be at his base for at least two days. I don't believe he'll be there much longer."
Charles would be outright trembling in excitement if he hadn't learned how to mask eagerness years ago. He leans over and pulls down Erik's underwear, and if he was any incompetent fool he would outright be salivating right now at the prospect of Erik's enormous, delicious cock. He gives the man a once over look and smiles. "One more to go and I'll cut your hands free. Make it worth it, Erik."
Erik was already half hard, and he knew that he had to make this one good. He met Charles' eyes and spoke without hesitation. "I'm going to kill him because he killed my mother." His face betrayed no emotion felt in that statement.
Charles immediately cuts his hands free, doing as promised, he wastes no time and kisses him, rather violent and harsh at first, all teeth and tongues as he sits on his lap, but it moves to be more civilized, more grounded.
There was no use in bothering with rubbing his raw wrists. He didn't care at this point. He quickly pulled Charles closer to him, groaning into his mouth at the contact of skin on skin. If nothing else he was grateful for the opportunity to stop talking.
Erik kissed like a man desperate for water, desperate for life. He decides he isn't going to talk or lead anymore, he's going to let Erik do as he pleases which will in a hundred percent please him back. He's always been into more demanding men anyway. He wraps his arms around Erik's neck and pushes closer, his now fully erect cock lightly grazing Erik's stomach.
Erik wrapped his hand around Charles' cock, stroking quickly. On some level he sorely wanted to be done, to have the chance to go after Shaw. But god did it feel good to touch, to be touched, to just indulge. How long had it been since he'd last had some contact? He bit down on Charles' lip, coaxing his mouth further open before damn near shoving his tongue inside.
Charles nearly half moaned as Erik simultaneously shoved his tongue on his mouth and stroked his cock. He opens his mouth, red lips becoming redder with each passing second, to let Erik do whatever he wanted.
"Tell me you have something." Erik groaned into his mouth. He wasn't about to fuck Charles bloody after all. There was only so much pain that was tolerable, and more often than not he wasn't the one doling it out. Some pain was utterly unnecessary.
"Would you believe me if I said I do?" Charles chuckles lightly, nearly dizzy on the pleasure. "There's vaseline on one of the cabinets, we usually use it for injuries, but this is a much more satisfying use."
"Get up." Erik said, half forcing Charles out of his lap. Now would be the time to run, wouldn't it? He hadn't given Charles enough to fuck up his plans ... At least he hoped not. "Table." He nodded to the metal table typically used in interrogations. "Bend over it." He moved, going to get the aforementioned Vaseline.
Charles shrugs his shoulders and does as told, entirely grateful he had asked for full lock down and privacy on this investigation. He looks at himself in the mirror window and notices he;s completely wrecked. He also sees how Erik looks at the door, but then looks at him before getting the vaseline and shutting the cabinet. "I hope you're not planning to make this the only proposition," He says, grinning, knowing full well that one way or another, he was going to enjoy this no matter what.
"Meaning?" Erik asked distractedly. He took off the top and discarded it haphazardly on the floor before going to stand behind Charles. He put his hand in the middle of the other man's back and pressed him down against the table before scooping a generous amount of Vaseline on to his fingers.
"More than one position," He says, a hint of challenge in his voice. "I mean, as much as I enjoy being manhandled, I wouldn't mind being on my back either, or even missing the opportunity to suck your cock."
Erik took the time to hold Charles' cheeks apart, watching him for a long moment before pressing a slick finger in to him. "I told you," He said while sliding his finger in and out of the other man. "Killing him is more important to me than fucking you."
"I'm offended," He says exaggeratedly, biting his lip and hissing in pleasure, he feels his toes curling. Fuck, He thinks. I am so completely fucked. "But whatever, a deal's a deal."
"Find me after it's over." Erik challenged, unsure if he really meant it or not. "I'll give you an encore then." He finally added a second finger, taking his time before adding the third, stretching him as best he could.
"Maybe I will, although it's almost..." He moans softly, unable to resist it. "... almost impossible to track you down."
Erik curled his fingers inside, pressing them against Charles' prostate once, twice before finally withdrawing them. "You did it once." He remarked.
"Fuck," He says low, under his breath. "Full credit can't go to me, but thank you for that."
"I had a feeling." Erik didn't bother to wipe his fingers off. Instead he took another glob of the stuff and slicked it over his cock. He barely stifled a groan at the touch to his own erection. God, it had been too long since he'd fucked someone last.
Charles watched from his bent position at Erik, using the mirror he was being faced with. Erik touching himself like that, staring at him as if he was a meal ready to be consumed. The slow realization that he's about to be fucked by a criminal slowly sinks into him, but he beats it aside with the rush of adrenaline that's pumping in his ears. Erik notices Charles staring and grins, Charles smirks back.
Finally Erik shifted. One hand held tightly to Charles' hip while the other gripped his own cock at its base. Slowly he guided himself in, taking his time about pushing in, easing himself in to the other man's body. There was no holding back the low, groaning sound of pleasure that fell from his lips.
The sound that came from Erik's mouth was enough to drive Charles insane, let alone the fact of the slow, grinding feeling of Erik's thick cock slowly, painfully, incredibly amazingly opening him up. He would start grinding down on him if he weren't so big, if he also weren't so lenient on letting Erik decide the tone and pace for this. He simply folds his arms and buries his head in them, moaning low and guttural in his throat as Erik sinks into him.
Erik grabbed with both hands then, keeping tight hold of Charles' hips. He wasn't sure if Charles' complete passivity bored or thrilled him, but at the moment he didn't care. This was about a much needed release. God knows after that interrogation they both needed it. When he was finally inside he immediately withdrew, setting a quick pace from the start.
"Oh fuck," He says, loudly this time, a bit muffled by the table and his arms. He could feel his body flushing, completely and totally given to him now, the way he withdrew nearly made him whine.
"That's the idea." Erik couldn't help but quip. His hands were near a bruising grip and he kept pounding in to Charles at the pace he'd set, wasting no time in just taking his time and enjoying it.
From what he could, when he could breathe properly, he looked up from his arms and actually stared at Erik in the mirror, even if Charles was wide eyed and open mouthed, wordless gasps and moans falling out of him like babbles. He waits to see if Erik would look at him, a bit of defiance and fun in this small game. He crouches up to his elbows on the table. "Erik," He moans out as he feels the snap of his hips. "Oh fuck... fuck..."
The sight of the agent, disheveled, looking completely wrecked on the table beneath him was certainly an image Erik would take with him when this was over. The endless string of curses falling from Charles' lips was even better. He couldn't help the little upturn of the corners of his mouth as their eyes met in the mirror and he fucked him with renewed vigor. He knew he was close but he was far too determined to make Charles come first.
The near bone-white grip his knuckles get as he desperately starts clinging to the table is almost embarrassing but in the most satisfying way. Charles cannot remember the last time he had this good of a shag in... ever. Maybe the element of voyeurism makes it better, or the fact that Erik is one of the most beautiful men Charles' has ever seen in his life, or maybe just the mere fact that he knows he shouldn't do this at all, but here he is, bent over a table getting completely fucked by a criminal and it's somehow the greatest decision Charles has ever made in his life.
It wasn't often Erik took the time to contemplate the people he was fucking. So often it was over and done before he'd ever really learned their faces. Perhaps it was merely the way that they'd come to know one another. The unusual circumstance and the taboo nature of it all certainly added to it. "Go ahead." He panted out against Charles' ear. "Come."
Charles wanted to say back something equally as cocky and demanding, something like "Don't tell me what to do," or "I'll come when I'm ready", but who the fuck is he kidding anyway? This had somehow managed to become number one spot on his top five favorite fucks. Instead of being brave and sheepish, he moans out a soft, "Oh shut it," Before coming, nearly losing balance on his elbows and legs, completely grateful for the table and for Erik's tight grip on him. Without these, he was sure he would have fallen defeated.
That was really all it took for Erik. The moan from his mouth was more animal than human as he finally came, holding Charles' hips tighter than ever. There was so much he'd done wrong in all of this. He shouldn't have traded information but god ... god had this been one of the best fucks he'd ever had. He took his time about coming down from it, panting as his grip slowly relaxed on Charles' hips.
The sound of Erik panting in exhaustion was an aphrodisiac in it of its own enough to make him go for another round, but he was so sore and he was so tired. He feels the relaxed grip on his hips and breathes for a minute, waiting until Erik lets go of him to get dressed.
At last Erik forced himself to pull away, moving to grab his clothes where they'd been discarded. He was quick about gathering them up, absently making note of the raw marks on his wrists. No matter. He'd deal with that later.
They clothe themselves in silence, Charles carefully checking that none of his clothes were stained. Neither as any surfaces, lucky for him, most of it was clean. No need to leave any evidence anywhere. He finally finishes putting his coat back on, taking the gun and putting it back in his holster. He looks up at Erik, who had seemed to be finishing. "You're free to go now, thank you for the cooperation, Erik." He says, smiling.
Erik was already tugging his coat on, and he was halfway to the door. "Indeed." He said, looking over his shoulder. He lifted an eyebrow, that near smirk on his lips again. "Good luck in your search." He said, though by the time Charles did find Shaw, Erik fully intended on the man being dead.
"Same to you, my friend." Charles says, as politely as he possibly could. He would intend to keep his promise, no telling MI6 the intel until tomorrow... which technically meant midnight. He watches Erik go and smiles. Not a bad way to spend the night, it could have definitely been worse.