Modern AU, ‘This Means War’ style!
Between the running, the stabbing and the punching (not to mention the dodging and firing of more than a few – okay hundreds - of bullets), Erik is certain that he’s heard the man wrong.
“What do you mean his name is Charles?” Erik grunts, shoving the Hydra lackey against the door before kneeing him hard in the solar plexus. “Charles Xavier? Professor of Genetics at Columbia? That Charles Xavier?”
Logan kicks the door open into the next room, slamming himself straight into the guard unlucky enough to be on the other side. “Yeah,” he pants, wiping the sweat from his forehead as he picks himself up off the unmoving body. “What? You know him?”
Erik snarls, biting a curse off the tip of his tongue. He takes a moment to switch his assault rifle to his handgun, before signaling Logan to move. “Sure I know him. I’m dating him. Asshole.”
Whatever he expected Logan’s response to be – surprise, anger, disbelief – it’s not this, a chuckle that slowly morphs into a roar of laughter. He continues laughing when three men burst into the room from the corner closest to their exit, letting Erik pick them off one by one as they crouch behind a rack of servers, the bullets whizzing by their heads. He’s still laughing when they clear the place and make a mad dash across the rooftop, where the S.H.I.E.L.D. helicopter has just landed for their pick-up.
“Man, I did not expect that,” Logan says, wiping tears – fucking tears – from his eyes as they climb onboard, all but flopping over from exhaustion and pain as the adrenaline starts to subside. “What’re the odds of you and me dating the same guy?”
What are the odds indeed? Erik doesn’t know how Logan would’ve had the opportunity to meet Charles, the two of them spending more time together on missions than they do with their own families. Erik himself only met Charles through his sister Raven, a newly minted agent that’s taken to following him around when not on assignments herself.
“How many dates have you been on?” he asks, dragging himself into seat across from Logan.
“I don’t know…three?”
Erik smirks. “We’ve been on four dates. And we’ve got another one Saturday night. He’s clearly more serious about me than he is about you.”
Logan quirks an eyebrow at him, pulling out a cigar from somewhere in his body armor (Erik has no idea where – calling their body armor ‘snug’ is an understatement). “Oh yeah? We’ve got a date tomorrow night, bub. And his lips say he’s serious enough ‘bout me.”
“You think he’s going to pick you?” Erik scoffs, grabbing a bottle of water from his kit and taking a long drink, ignoring Logan’s glare. “When he can choose me instead?”
There’s a glint in his partner’s eyes, the only warning he gets that Logan’s about to suggest something very stupid or something very dangerous to their wellbeing. The last time Erik saw that look the two of them barely jumped out of a speedboat in time before it exploded into a raging fireball.
“How about we make it a bet, Lehnsherr?” Logan says, an air of nonchalance that Erik doesn’t buy for a second. “We don’t tell him we know about each other and we let him choose. I don’t interfere with your dates and you don’t interfere with mine. You in?”
Erik snorts, leaning back with his hands behind his head and says, “And what do I get when I win, besides Charles?”
“Anything you want,” Logan answers, taking a puff of his cigar and giving Erik a grin from ear to ear. “And when I win, you gotta do whatever I tell you. Do we have a deal?”
He thinks back to his date with Charles last week; the way he smiled at Erik all through their dinner and listened with enthusiasm to all his fake work stories and gives Logan a sharp grin in return. “Yes. You’ve got yourself a deal.”