Down to the Earth From the Promised Land

BY : Citizenjess
Category: X-Men - Animated Series (all) > Slash - Male/Male
Dragon prints: 798
Disclaimer: I do not own "X-Men" or any of the characters therein. I am not making money from this work of fiction.

I realized just now that all of my porn tends to have a happy ending. I've got something coming down the pipe that might change that, but for now, uh, here.

Title: "Down to the Earth From the Promised Land"

Summary: Magneto submits himself to Charles' mercy for an evening. Warning: Bondage. This is based heavily on the two-part "Sanctuary" episode from the original "X-Men" animated series, which I will probably be recapping on my Erik/Charles Tumblr at some point in the near-ish future. I recommend a viewing for the shot of Mags in his bathrobe, if nothing else. Title is from the infamous "First Class" anthem, "Love Love," by Take That. Rated NC-17.


He'd arrived in the dead of night, through a secret entrance underneath the more public grounds of the Xavier estate, at which point he had been asked (ordered, really) to wait. Magneto was not a man who liked to be told what to do; for Charles, however, he obeyed without a second thought, settling atop a bed within a large, underground chamber, one of several somewhat strange pieces of furniture kept in that part of the house, and conceding himself to his fate.

When Charles finally arrived, he purposefully took his time preparing everything he would need, eyes carefully maneuvering around the room, stopping on Magneto and looking his fill. Magneto resisted the urge to speak, even to delve into polite, casual conversation. He knew that that wasn't the point of this, after all.

When Charles began to tie him to the bed frame with rope - 'no metal,' Magneto thought, because the bed was all wood, and it sent the tiniest shudder of apprehension up his spine - he sat passively while it happened, wincing ever-so-slightly when Charles tugged his wrists together and then over his head because the end result was very tight. Charles removed his helmet next, seeming to enjoy the way Magneto's long, silver hair spilled across his shoulders. Before he had a chance to comment, however, Charles presented a long strip of fabric, which he wound around the other man's head and secured in one of the several brands of knots that he knew. ('Fucking Boy Scout,' Magneto smirked, and Charles slapped him lightly on the shoulder.) Then Charles was lifting his chin, forcing Magneto to meet his steel blue gaze, and Magneto ceased his jibes.

"So lovely like this, Magnus," Charles smiled at him. It was a title that only Charles used, his middle name, and Charles always breathed it with such reverence and, dare he think it, love, that it never failed to make his heart beat faster. Then Charles reached around and fisted a chunk of his hair, and he let out a surprised grunt. "I hope you don't intend to draw out my ire anymore this evening, Erik. You've already caused me to spend far too much of my day being concerned with you."

Magneto smirked, pleased that Charles could admit to him that he'd worried. He could have pointed out - telepathically, because Charles would pick up on it - that it was hardly his fault that Charles had followed him aboard Asteroid M., that he'd misread the intentions of Fabian Cortez along with the rest of his Acolytes, that Charles had felt compelled to try and save the day, as he usually did. Charles, on the other hand, did not seem to find this recollection of events as amusing as he did, if his outright wrenching of Magneto's head backwards by the hair again had anything to say about it.

"Do you find it funny," Charles frowns at him, "to prepare a funeral sermon for a man who is still alive? Do you think I wanted to watch you hurtling towards oblivion, powerless to do anything but hear your final thoughts?" He strokes Magneto's face, tracing the chiseled jaw with his fingertips, and Magneto resists the urge to squirm because, like always, this has gone from his planned mindless rutting to Charles demanding more from him. Charles slaps his cheek then, not hard, but sharply, and he blinks in surprise. "Do you find it amusing, Erik, to put me through this? To make me suffer the prospect of you coming to harm for some asinine ideal? Do you have any idea how it very nearly kills me, too?"

Magneto swallows hard. Charles' fingers trail down his throat, his gaze admiring, yet sad. "I've never stopped caring for you, Erik," he says softly. "Never. I will always love you. I fear, however, that my affection for you is one-sided sometimes; otherwise, why would you not even consider how your actions affect me? You must despise me," he continues, his tone clinical, and Magneto can't handle this thinly-veiled self-loathing on Charles' behalf. He shakes his head vehemently, and thinks as hard as he can: 'No. I could never. Please, Charles, know that you are never far from my most immediate thoughts; that it kills me to think that we may never be on the same side, because you are everything mutantkind should be.'

Charles' gaze is loving, flattered. "I see that I haven't given you enough credit, my friend," he says. His fingertips trail down, coming to focus next on the other man's nipples, which Magneto is embarrassed to realize are rather prominently poking out of his uniform. When Charles grips at one between two fingers and his thumb, Magneto groans. "I've always loved getting you off," Charles tells him. "Your face is so gorgeous when you're aroused." He continues pinching and rubbing the other man's clothed nipples, the fabric rubbing against them, contributing to the overall stimulation, and Magneto squirms, secretly loving this, willing to take whatever it is Charles will give him.

Charles' hand moves south, and suddenly, he's cupping Magneto's crotch, groping at his clothed member, which Magneto realizes is already hard. He makes little pleading moans, bucking up into Charles' hand, but the other man just smiles and clucks his tongue. "Now, now. Patience, my love. We can both have everything we want tonight if you just trust me to make it happen."

Magneto nods, trying to keep his composure, though he nearly sobs with relief when Charles fumbles with his pants and underwear, eventually freeing his cock, which he immediately grasps and starts pumping. Unfortunately for Magneto, his immediate goal does not seem to be release; his movements are agonizingly slow and teasing, and Magneto squirms unhappily in his bonds, considering whether cursing or begging Charles will lead to a faster orgasm. "Neither, I suspect," Charles tells him cheerfully, hearing the rumination, of course, and Magneto groans. "That's not the point of this," Charles continues. "You know that, Erik." He reaches beneath Erik's dick to pinch and rub at his swollen ballsac, and the other man bucks up violently. 'God damn it, Charles. At least kiss me, or something.'

Charles laughs lightly, but to Magneto's relief, he tugs the gag over Magneto's head and off, and then tosses it aside, before taking his hand away from the other man's cock to grasp at both sides of his face. Their lips meet, and Magneto kisses back frantically, needily, and then groans when Charles pulls away. "You don't ... want to be ... close, Charles?" he rasps, and Charles grins.

"Oh, I do, my friend, of course. But not like this." His eyes gleam mischievously, and Magneto knows that it's a rare emotion on display; and yet, there it is, that wicked sense of humor that few people know Charles Xavier possesses. "I'm going to untie your arms, Erik," Charles continues. "And then you're going to turn over. Do you understand?"

Magneto nods. Charles, seemingly unable to resist, favors him with another kiss, and then makes good on his instructions, eventually releasing Magneto's wrists from the tight tug of the rope. With relief, he rubs at them absently, and watches out of the corner of his eye as Charles raises himself the rest of the way onto the bed from his wheelchair, using his considerable upper-arm strength. "You'll want to finish undressing the rest of the way for this, I should think," Charles offers, and Magneto nods again and quickly strips off the rest of his clothing.

Nude and a bit nervous, now - he's not naive enough to think that Charles should always be the submissive one in their relationship, but the other man does tend to cede his current position to Magneto in the rather extensive course of their lovemaking more often than not - he lies on his stomach, arms pillowing his head, which he turns to the side so that he can watch Charles. By now, the other man has succeeded in removing his own cock from his pants, which Magneto is gratified to see is at least partially erect. Charles begins to masturbate himself hastily to prepare himself fully, but Magneto gets an idea and reaches out a hand to stop him. "Please, let me," he murmurs, and then he re-positions himself so that he can lean between Charles' legs and take the other man's cock into his mouth in one smooth, swift motion.

"Erik, aaahh, that's, good God, Erik ..." Charles balks. Smiling around the mouthful, Magneto sucks hard and evenly, until Charles is pushing a bit frantically at the back of his head. "All right, all right, I'm ready," he gasps, and then motions for Erik to turn back around. He does, and Charles scoots himself closer. Small-ish fingers find their way towards Magneto's rectum, and he bucks a little at the intrusion, Charles making wordless noises of comfort as he runs his digits around the puckered hole, teasing. He shuffles a little after that, and Erik has collected the small canister and flown it into the other man's palm just as Charles gets out that "Oh, forgot the ... thank you, Erik." He swirls two fingers into the mixture inside, and then they return to their previous task; this time, they slide in past the tell-tale ring of muscle, and Magneto's mouth opens as he gets used to it, the pleasure lacing intricately with pain. Charles adds a third finger, further stretching him out, and then a fourth, at which point Magneto is positively rocking back and forth. "Ready?" Charles asks him, and he nods, but takes deep breaths nonetheless as Charles' fingers are replaced with Charles' cock.

Charles is gentle, loving, but getting fucked up the ass still hurts, and Magneto groans and grunts with each new movement, slick skin nonetheless sliding into him again and again with considerable pressure. Still, Charles knows what he's doing, and before long, he's hitting Erik's prostate, spearing it repeatedly, his voice low and awed as he murmurs to Magneto, who tries hard to listen, though the overwhelming sensations make it somewhat difficult. "... love you ... so fucking much ..." Charles moans, and his mouth is close enough to Erik's ear now to be able to nip at the sensitive lobe. His next words are a considerably harsher whisper: "But if you ever ... make me believe ... that you're, ah, dead, again, and you're not ..." Charles reaches around and begins fisting Magneto's cock ferociously now; "then I will fucking kill you myself," he finishes, and his thumb rolls over the head of Magneto's dick, once, twice, and Erik is keening now, practically sobbing.

Charles thrusts into him particularly hard, the movement likely enhanced at least somewhat by his telepathic abilities to compensate for the overall lack of sensation from the waist down, and Erik can feel everything between them: Charles' pleasure and his pain, the emotional toll that believing the center of his universe had left the mortal coil for good, had left him for good, and it's too much. With a guttural cry, Erik is coming, Charles' hand wrapped tightly around his cock, wringing every drop of moisture out of it that he possibly can, his palm hot and awkwardly positioned. Once Erik is spent, Charles' hands move to Erik's waist, concentrating his full efforts on his own impending orgasm. His thrusts are hard and painful in spite of everything, and Erik collapses with relief when he finally feels Charles' warm wetness pooling inside of him.

For several minutes, Charles lays against him, chest heaving and sweaty against his back, too exhausted even to run his fingers through Magneto's delectably mussed hair. At last, with great effort, he shifts enough to be able to slide onto his side, and Erik happily joins him, collecting Charles in his arms, the smaller man gazing up at him, sated, in utter adoration. They exchange a series of slow, languid kisses, Charles' tongue sliding comfortably against Magneto's, and now his fingers are fondling and stroking without a higher purpose, merely for the sake of caressing. Magneto trails kisses down Charles' throat and rubs circles into his back, the other man's legs heavy and unyielding, yet warm tangled around his. 'Need you ...' Charles' mind sends to him, almost too quiet to hear, but Erik does, anyways.

'Everything I do is to make the world better for us.' Magneto knows that Charles disagrees with his methods, but the end result, to him, is of the utmost importance. 'I want you safe, Charles.'

'And what about you?' There's a flare of anger in his 'tone,' now, and then Charles is speaking to him directly: "Did you not hear anything I said earlier this evening?"

"I heard you," Erik says smoothly, and continues rubbing Charles' back and shoulders, a placating move that he knows Charles can't resist; sure enough, the other man's head reluctantly returns to the crook of Erik's neck, though he hears Charles sigh grumpily. "I suppose," he continues softly, "You will have to continue keeping me in check."

"I suppose I will," Charles grunts, but Erik is rubbing at the back of his neck, and so it comes out more like a purr. "Sometimes, I hate you," Charles sighs at him.

Magneto's smile is wide. "Sometimes, you love me, too," he entreats.

Charles shakes his head exasperatedly. "I meant what I said earlier, Magnus: I'll do it. I swear I will. Just give me a reason."

"Yes, of course." Magneto kisses him on the forehead. "I love you, too, Charles."

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