I have nothing to say about this one

Charles/Erik, cat ears (don’t judge me, catavoy is adorable)

I’m sorry PcP, I don’t know what this is *sob*

“Are you honestly going to do this? You’re cruel, Erik.” Raven, though sounding somewhat disgusted, was trying to hide a smile behind the fist she had in front of her mouth. Erik sipped at his beer with one hand, perched against the corner of the couch as he used the other to flick the small red laser pointer along the floor.

Charles, who was utterly smashed and lounging on the carpet, caught the movement from the corner of his eye and gave a loose-limbed roll onto his side, tail bristling. “Whussat? S’at, s’moving!” Charles exclaimed, the very tip of his tail twitching at the prospect of a hunt. He reached out, blearily smacking at the swaying red light on the ground and making a loud noise of confusion when there was nothing beneath his palm.

Erik smothered a wicked chuckle into his beer and Raven buried her face into his shoulder. “Erik, he’s going to kill you when he figures it out,” She hissed, voice low as Charles reared his bum up to try and search under the couch for the light. His ears rotated, tail a coiling ball of energy as he popped his head up to look at Erik and Raven with unfocused, droopy eyes and a scowl. Erik was quick to twist his hand so that the small laser pointer was tucked into his sleeve, quirking a brow at Charles.

“Erik, did’ju do’dat?” Charles accused, tilting his head forward. Erik plastered on his best look of bewilderment.

“I haven’t the foggiest clue what you’re talking about, Charles. Raven and I were just talking about Women’s Suffrage in the roaring twenties, if you wanted to join our discussion, though?”

Raven bit his shoulder, giggling  as Charles released a dramatic, uninterested sigh and went back to looking under the couch. Erik flicked out the laser pointer again, having it come up from around the side of the couch as Charles released a drunken shriek of delight and lunged for it.

However, Charles’ coordination after nearly an entire bottle of scotch and various other liquors left something to be desired, as he knocked his chin beautifully on the carpet with a grunt. Erik turned off the laser pointer, but Charles’ body had reached its numbing point as he started to claw at the carpet, thinking maybe the red dot had somehow sunken into it.

Hank walked in, curious as to why Raven was in hysterics, and scowled at the two.

“You know that isn’t healthy for him. A cat’s brain can suffer when not given the instant gratification of achieving a hunt.”

Erik flicked the light up towards Hank and Charles went at him with a war cry. Hank screamed, rather girlishly, as Charles pawed at his shirt with a hiss.

“I’mmuna get’chu, lil’ bugger!” The man slurred with loud determination. Hank, stumbling to keep upright when Charles was practically trying to climb all over him, grabbed Charles’ wrists.

“Charles, Erik’s using a laser light to play with the feline aspects of your perception.” Hank sighed dramatically.

Charles went utterly, deathly still, his ears flattening against his head.

Erik tucked the laser light into his shirt two seconds before Charles whirled around, stumbling a little, and then lunging at Erik with an angry shout of, “Y’bluddy ‘rsehole!” as he landed on top of Erik in a painful tangle of knees and fists.

Erik grunted, eyes widening in horror as his beer fell from his hand and spilled all over the floor. He struggled as Charles beat pathetically on his shoulders, watching with internal misery as drop after drop of that beautiful elixir spilled onto the carpet.

“Ow! Fuck, Charles! I was just playing!” Erik cried, taking a knuckle to the cheek. Charles, huffed, grabbing Erik’s face and trying to smother him into the arm of the couch. Erik flailed, dropping the laser light and reaching around Charles to scratch the area where his tail met his spine.

The reaction was instantaneous, Charles bum arching up into the touch and his fingers moving to dig into Erik’s shoulder. Erik stroked a hand up and down Charles’ back, continuing to pat and scratch the area as Charles exhaled heavily, tail coiling and almost standing on the couch just go get more of that pressure from Erik’s hand.

“God dammit, Erik, really?” Raven cried in disgust, reaching out to shove Charles’ bottom out of her face. Erik laughed evilly, nuzzling his face into Charles’ neck and stroking a hand down his tail - which made him lower down onto his knees again - and then bring it back up to the base and make Charles instantly rise up again.

“Y’r’a priccckkk.” Charles slurred out a sob into Erik’s throat, wiggling about and then climbing to straddle Erik’s lap and cling to him.

“Oh my god, I’m going in my room and drinking myself unconscious so I can forget this, right now.” Raven pushed herself up off of the couch while Erik allowed Charles to lazily rut against him. Raven grabbed Hank’s arm, ignoring his spluttering with a snap of, “Come on, Hank, I need you to drunkenly debauch me,” and dragging him out of the room.

“Nooo!” Charles wailed, undulating his hips and grinding against Erik’s thigh while Erik absently nipped at his throat. “M’baby sisterr, why-hyyyy.”

“How drunk are you, Charles?” Erik mumbled, fingers rucking Charles’ cardigan up his back and massaging down his spine. Charles’ tail flicked to and fro happily, a groan escaping him as he sloppily mouthed wet kisses into Erik’s throat.

“Mmh, horribly, m’love.” Charles said, his voice garbled against Erik’s skin. Erik rolled his eyes, pushing forward, tugging Charles’ shirt down, and setting him against the couch on his back. Charles’ eyes went wide, a low rumbling purr of joy vibrating through his chest as he lay there pliantly, legs spread and looking utterly ready to be completely wrecked.

Erik leaned forward, kissing Charles’ chastely and getting up to grab a glass of water. He wasn’t particularly fond of drunk sex with Charles- because it almost always ended with Erik thrusting into a completely unconscious Charles before realizing his lover had passed out, and then awkwardly jacking off in the bathroom because he didn’t want to feel like a creep.

When he returned, it took nearly a full minute of shaking and patting to wake Charles, and another minute of coaxing to get him to drink the entire glass of water. He ended up nearly giving himself a hernia from lifting Charles’ dead weight up off of the couch to carry him to the bedroom, collapsing on top of Charles with a huff when he reached the bed and then arranging his lover into something of a comfortable sleeping position. (A drunk Charles slept best on his stomach)

He took his time divesting Charles of his clothes, hands lingering on the swell of his ass, rubbing around the base of his tail and kissing the dip of his spine before he felt too skeevy and went back to undressing Charles.

When all was said and done, Erik slipped into bed next to Charles, resting on his side and slinging an arm over his lover’s lower back, face buried into his hair and nose brushing Charles’ twitching ear.

He might as well get some sleep before Charles’ pissy, hungover self woke him up to beg and paw at him until Erik made him something to eat and massaged around his ears and temples.