Chapter Text
It was not love at first sight.
The first time Erik met Charles, the guy was completely drunk. He had been swallowing alcohol since he had come into the bar with a cortege of students and had not stopped for a second. Not that Erik was paying much attention to him, except when he was so loud it was simply impossible to ignore the animation taking place at the other end of the room. It was not, by any stretch, anything exceptional, bars being often crowded and full of noisy drunks. Erik could have ignored him for the rest of the evening without batting an eye, had the man not come to him to talk. To talk. Like they were best friends since childhood. Dear Lord.
“Isn’t it a brilliant day, my friend?” The brown-haired man said, with a thick english accent, smiling like he fucking meant it.
“It’s been pouring all day.” Erik gruffed, not glancing at him. Most of the time, his uptight posture and closed off expression were enough to warn people off. Never let it be said that Erik Lehnsherr was an easy man to approach. He had spent years scaring people for a living, there were none better at it than he. Though the man didn’t seem to mind or even notice. He was too far gone and Erik must admit he was a bit impressed he could still stand on his two feet without wobbling. Much.
The man gaped in shock, like he expected nothing less from Erik than to agree with his stupid question. “It’s England!” he shouted, outraged, like it explained everything.
Yeah, it did.
The bartender gave the blue-eyed moron - yes, that was how Erik was calling him now - the cocktail he had ordered and Erik briefly wondered if he was really that retarded to keep servicing a man who with no doubt would end up in an alcoholic coma if no one put a halt to his self-destructive behavior.
“It’s a party!” The man next to him chuckled when it became clear Erik had no intention of continuing the nonsense chat. Crazy bastard. “Is there any other way to celebrate other than by getting inebriated?” To prove his point, he started drinking his 3dl Long Island like it was a shot. He coughed a few seconds after passing the half way mark and spluttered all over the bar, earning a glare from the bartender, which Erik returned. Dumbass. It was his fault as well, had he sent the blue-eyed moron home in time, none of this would have happened and Erik would still be peacefully nursing his well-deserved beer.
Erik looked at the blue-eyed moron and snorted at his comment. Whatever made the alcoholics feel better about drinking like the world is ending. Or beginning. As if it was all that different. Why didn’t he just go away and have fun with his ‘mates’ and left Erik alone, since he had no sense of self-preservation and go home?
“You seem down! You should join us.” The blue-eyed moron nodded, clearly agreeing with what he said. Was he that bored to think Erik would make good company? Jesus. Why couldn’t he be left to be a grumpy old man he truly was inside. If he had wanted to be with someone, he would have. Not that Erik had any friends, or coworkers per say, to go out with, but he could be nice from time to time to have some company. Mostly when it had been too long since he had gotten laid and the frustration was merely too much to bear without snapping at everyone or getting stupidly angry and blowing up his plans. He blamed on the hormones. It was, though, plainly obvious that the blue-eyed moron would not be helpful in that area, so why was he still annoying him?
“I’m sorry, my good chap, but I will not have you feeling sorry for yourself. Not tonight.” He fucking beamed at Erik, not apologetic in the least. Who the hell did he even think he was?
Erik grinned, all teeth and no lips, the same intimidating smile he used on people he was about to skin for information. “Why don’t you fuck off” he said, before returning to his cheap beer. He missed german beer more than anything else he had left behind, mainly because after a few pints his head would be blurry enough to give him a false sense of calm. And patience. Yes, he certainly needed that, since I-don’t-even-know-his-name was not going anywhere anytime soon.
“I’m Charles Xavier.” The blue-eyed moron extended his hand, waiting for Erik to shake it. “I should have introduced myself earlier, my sincere apologies. I just finished my PhD in Genetics, which is why I am celebrating tonight. Not that any proper alcoholic needs an excuse.” He winked at Erik knowingly and he could do nothing other than shake Mr. Xavier’s hand. What. The. Hell.
“Really? You’re not even of age.” Was all that Erik said. Because sure, Xavier wasn’t lying about his PhD, Erik knew how to spot a lie, but he certainly was not eighteen, no matter how hard he was trying to pretend and had succeeded, according to the pile of glasses he managed to empty.
“What? No! I’m twenty!” Xavier slurred what was supposed to be an indignant statement. Erik raised an eyebrow, having none of it. Maybe he had convinced the patrons, but he was far from being impressive to Erik. Xavier narrowed his eyes at Erik pensively, like he was trying extremely hard to look older and see right through Erik. Well, good luck pal. Even if he did somehow see inside him, he wouldn’t be able to stay long enough for the good part. Surely a teenage boy like Xavier would be scared shitless by the darkness surrounding his mind. And if he did succeed, well, Erik wasn’t above hitting the back of his head with a metal bar to make him forget his own name. Nothing personal.
Xavier laughed like he was told the best fucking joke in the entire universe, when all Erik did was stare at him bemused. Somehow, while laughing, Xavier lost his balance and had to grip the bar to keep himself from falling on the floor. Erik blinked at him before shaking his head and finish his beer in one gulp. Time to go. He grabbed his jacket and aimed for the door wordlessly.
Behind him, Xavier shouted a ‘hey’ and Erik turned in time to see the man trying and failing miserably, to catch up. Unfortunately for Xavier, the alcohol was doing its own catch up, leaving him no more elegant than a baby walking for the first time.
Well, PhD or no PhD, he was still a moron.