Summary: Erik and you can never get along, and when he catches you sparring with Logan, he seems to get jealous but...why?

Warnings: Mild language.

A/N: This was a request from @Umia294. I hope it matches what you wanted! I kind of ran wild with it but oh well! I'd love to have other requests from you guys if you have any, and on my other One-Shot books too. Enjoy!

3478

➤ ➤ ➤

who drives you as insane as Erik Lehnsherr. Impossible though it may seem, every. single. thing that he does rubs you the wrong way. For starters, he's mean. He's horribly rude, and cold and everything he says is snarky as Hell. The only person he mildly respects is Charles and even then, it depends on the day. He's fought with half the mansion, and the other half he won't speak to. Regrettably, you are in the first half. It gets worse. Not only have you squabbled with the metal-manipulator, you're his go to target for any and all arguments. You wouldn't be surprised if he scheduled time to debate with you. At least once a day, you and Erik can be heard, throwing a fit over a number of issues, ranging from if water is wet to whether humans are as valuable as mutants. What pisses you off the most, is how calm Erik is. He'll raise his voice, especially with you, but he never gets worked up like you do. You lose your breath; you scream in exasperation; sometimes, when no one's looking, you leave the fights and cry.

That is perhaps what you hate so much about Erik Lehnsherr.

How much power he has over your emotions.

You're an empath.

You feel people's hearts; hear their thoughts. You can tell the emotions experienced by every person you meet — if you touch them.

Except for one guy.

Guess who?

When you explained the phenomenon to Charles, he merely shrugged, saying he didn't have the resources to prove anything. All he could offer was the suggestion that maybe you and Erik were connected on some subconscious level. Pressing him for clarification, he came up with the bizarre idea that maybe you and Erik's souls understood one another so deeply neither of you quite noticed. That, or the two of you would be close in the future and it was somehow affecting you both now. Both suggestions struck you as absurd, so you scoffed and stormed out of Charles' office, unaware of the knowing smile plastered to his face as you slammed the door behind you.

Connection?

Souls...understanding each other?

Bullshit.

Erik is a jerk and he never lets you forget it.

Which brings you to the third reason why you despise Erik Lehnsherr.

He's incredibly and unbelievably hot.

Not only did God curse the man with a disagreeable temperament, he also blessed him with looks so good, he could melt every female on the planet by just glancing at them. His jawline is sharper than a double-edged sword; his eyes are the hue of perfectly cut crystal; and his voice is simultaneously silk and thunder, rolling without breaking yet heavy enough to crush anything in its path. Erik's voice alone could break hearts without the rest of him doing the dirty work. Already a few of the younger mutants have developed little crushes on him. It only inflated his ego. You hate the way he leads them on, gently flirting with them, but dodging every move they make. Erik leaves a trail of gooey-eyed teens in his wake and it ruffles your feathers.

You aren't jealous.

You're just concerned, for the girls.

Also pissed at him.

For a Hell of a lot of things.

"Geez —" Logan seizes your wrists, pausing your assault of punches to his rock-hard abs. He's got metal lining his insides and a shell of muscle.

The man is a tank.

He also happens to be your sparring partner.

"What," You pant, picking up on his unease through the vice-like grip he has on your arms. "Can't take it?"

Growling, Logan rotates your arms to an uncomfortable angle and then sweeps your legs out from under you. You land on your side, and roll towards his ankles, attempting the corkscrew you learned in jiu jitsu years ago, but Logan stops you by stepping on your hands. You wrinkle your nose in disgust. He just smirks. On most subjects you and Logan agree, unlike you and Erik. One of the only things you dispute over is martial arts. Logan thinks that most of them are useless because you have to expect your opponent to move like you. "Everyone fights dirty in the real world," He told you after you first failed to take him down with a jiu jitsu move. "If you fight like you're on the mat you're gonna die on the mat." His harsh criticism of your fighting style ticked you off, but he's only proven his point with every passing sparring session. Thankfully, Logan isn't a dick about it. He's showing you how to fight. How to block, and punch, and kick, and get a good hold on people. Once you get to a certain level, he's promised to show you the real dirty stuff.

Breaking necks; dislocating jaws...

A part of you is nervous about that.

Being an Empath means you sense anything the heart feels.

Which means everytime you hit someone, and they feel pain, that same pain is inflicted on you while you maintain contact.

That's how you know when you've bested Logan. You'll put a foot on his chest and immediately his exhaustion and pain drenches you. No matter what he says, you know his heart. It's fascinating how closely linked the entire body is to the mind.

Pain is a defense mechanism, but it's so tangible, so strong that it manifests itself as an emotion. Especially the invisible pains: heartache, sorrow, despair, grief.

They're like a punch in the gut.

Erik is a wad of that pain.

Being around him hurts worse than sparring Logan on a bad day.

"I won."

"Get your shoes off of my hands."

Logan steps back. You gag and roll to a seated position, hastily wiping the grime and dirt that the soles of his boots smudged on your palms. Logan laughs at your disgust and offers his hand. You take it reluctantly, and smack him on the chest as soon as you have your footing.

"Don't put your gross boots on me again."

Logan grabs your arm.

So you spin under it and jam him in the gut with your leg, forcing him to let you go. The two of you reset, a foot apart.

"Didn't know a little dirt bothered you—"

"It doesn't," You argue through gritted teeth.

Logan comes at you with a punch that you block.

"So what does?"

"What?"

You cross your arms to block his kick, shove his leg out of your way and retaliate with an even higher kick to his chest. He catches your ankle.

"What bothers you?"

"N-nothing," You grunt, trying to twist out of his hold.

Logan is too out of breath to properly laugh. The hollow echo of one fills the gym as he spins you around so your back faces him. You scream in frustration, unable to free yourself from this position. He's caught your leg and is holding you at a distance. You feel like a fish on a line, flopping to no avail.

"Bullshit. You're a mess today."

"I'm. Fine. Let. Go—"

Logan lets you go.

And you face plant into the mat.

Just as you turn onto your back, he plants his foot on your chest, so you knock him off balance and take the chance to roll onto his stomach, half straddling him as you try to pin him down, but Logan is ten times stronger than you'll ever be, and he uproots you like a dainty flower before crushing you underneath his immense bodyweight.

"Something's up," He grunts, breathing heavily across your face. "You're pissed. You don't need to be an Empath to know it. What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

Because it is nothing. Nothing big. You honestly don't know why you're so worked up about him when you haven't seen him all day. This hatred you've built against him lingers with you. It's poison and it spoils good moments in life. It's spoiling this moment, which should be fun because you're friends with Logan, and you enjoy sparring with him, but nope. Erik freaking Lehnsherr won't even let you have fun. The thought of him sits on your chest, miraculously heavier than Logan is. You groan softly as you try and wriggle out from under him. Logan pins your wrists above your head and keeps your legs flat with one knee. Damn him. He's so...strong—

"Well this is kinky."

Logan lifts his head just enough for you to turn your cheek to the mat. But you knew who it was even before the slick blue cushioning left a frozen kiss on your face.

Erik Lehnsherr.

He slips both hands into the pockets of his jeans and rocks casually onto his heels and back.

Nobody moves.

You wish you could shove Logan off.

Yet, at the same time...you kind of like the way Erik's heart is weaving itself in complicated knots. His cool expression in no way reflects the certain rage coursing through his veins. With the cocky lift a brow, he shatters the silence.

"I hope I'm not interrupting—"

"What do you want?" Logan spits.

Erik smirks, "So I am."

His emotions spike. A boiling red. The kettle is practically screaming in your ears. Underneath the red is soft blue. Like Erik's stupidly perfect eyes. Clear orbs of water; droplets of disappointment almost hidden by the rage; the rage hidden by the overconfident and sarcastic exterior. Your brows furrow. Why would Erik feel the need to hide his disappointment? He's clearly trying to overwhelm the feeling with anger, almost as if he knows you'll read him from across the room. The thing is, you never told Erik your sensitivity regarding his emotions. The only one who knows is Charles, and he swore to keep that under wraps unless you gave him the go ahead. Now you're angry. Angry with Charles, who must have let something slip if Erik's being so secretive.

Damn you, Charles.

As irritated as you are, you're also pleased.

Madly so.

Because the emotions are beginning to mix. The red peels back two layers; orange, then yellow. Vomit yellow. It inches towards the blue and together they birth a telltale green.

Oh my gosh.

Erik Lehnsherr is jealous.

What in the Hell is that all about?

Your eyes dart towards Logan, who still hasn't budged. Could it be? Only one way to find out. Deciding to test your theory, you try and sit up, purposely letting your head bonk Logan's. He pushes back, rocking onto his knees, and then sticks out a helping hand. You peek at Erik from the corner of your eyes. He's watching. Intently. Good, you smirk as you grab Logan's hand, and let him tug you up. Only, you're a little clumsy today, so you sink into his arms and Logan being the gentleman and good friend that he is, snakes an arm around your waist and hauls you up with him, propping the two of you onto your feet. Erik watches. Hungrily, angrily. He's green from head-to-toe and satisfyingly so. For the first time ever, you have something to hold over his head.

"Thanks," You murmur close to Logan's face.

His heart is beating normally.

There's no trace of attraction, thank goodness.

You want to mess with Erik, not Logan.

The corners of Logan's mouth turn up as he gives your back a friendly rub and then lets you go.

As you turn out of his arms, you lock eyes with Erik.

The facade is gone.

Whatever self control he has is withered away. Your flirting with Logan must have been the last straw.

"I'll see you tonight?" Logan asks.

"Yeah, see you later!"

You wave him goodbye and smile overdramatically. Once the gym door swings shut, you pivot and face Erik.

"Plans?"

"Sorry?"

"Tonight," He explains, "With...that barbarian?"

The satisfaction dwindles.

"Hey," You snap, firmly crossing your arms over your chest. "Lay off Logan. He's not a barbarian, and he's my friend."

"Friend?" Erik laughs mirthlessly. "Is that what you consider a friend? Should I be concerned about Charles then? Or do you throw yourself all over every man you meet besides me?"

Unbelievable!

He's actually convinced that you meant to flirt with Logan. He really thinks he walked in on some heated training session. Worse yet, he's insinuating that you're some whore who goes sleeping around with all her 'guy friends.' As if you're that low. He's the one who flirts with teenage girls and argues with the entire world just to stroke his own hot air balloon of an ego! You can't take it anymore. Tearing back the curtain to expose all that green is going to show your hand, but it'll shock Erik, and at best piss him off and you're willing to take the risk for some well earned points against this jerk.

"I see how it is," You drawl to hide your anger. "You're jealous."

Erik scoffs.

As expected.

"And who should I be jealous of? You, or that beast?"

"Oh him obviously."

Erik steps onto the mat. "For an Empath you are a horrible judge of the heart."

Oh he set you up perfectly, bless him.

Grinning wickedly, you let out a gasp. "Really? Because you were angry that he had me under him, then disappointed that wasn't you, and then jealous that I was enjoying it...last I checked that's called 'jealousy,' Metal-head."

"You're making that up. Everyone knows you can't read emotions without physical contact."

"Well," You tilt your head to the side and grin, "Jokes on you, because you're the only person I can read 24/7 so ha."

Boom.

You've dropped the bomb on him and he couldn't look more surprised. Just as his jaw slips, Erik grinds it back into place as an attempt to recover himself. Too bad. He's already let you win and you aren't going to let him forget it.

"You can read my emotions...without touching me?"

"Yep."

Erik narrows his eyes, inching closer. "Who else knows?"

"No one, just Charles."

Just Charles...

Wait.

So Erik didn't know Charles knew, and he clearly didn't know you could read his emotions from afar...then why would he go to such lengths to hide his disappointment?

Unless...

He really did want to be on the mat with you, but he wouldn't let himself admit it, so he buried it under a flaming heap of rage.

Interesting.

"You really are jealous of Logan," You can hardly contain your laughter, and it only angers Erik further. A tendon in his neck declares itself as he clenches his fists at his side. You can hear something crack in the distance; some scrap of metal he's taking his anger out on. Oh you've got him, and boy does it feel good to cause him such distress. Finally, some revenge for all those arguments where he had the upper hand and rubbed — no smeared it across your face. You can't hide your glee, nor do you even try at this point. You wear your triumph like a badge as you laugh, and Erik takes hesitant steps towards you. "Geez, Erik," You scoff. "If you really wanted to spar with me that bad, all you had to do was ask. I'd gladly beat your ass."

Erik doesn't stop walking until the toes of his shoes click with yours.

You register just how close he is, but you refuse to back down.

His heart is in turmoil.

There's a whirlwind of feelings there; fury, pride, jealousy, resentment, fear, and strongest of all-

Desire.

You nearly choke on its potency.

Erik stares down at you, radiating calm, despite what lies in his chest. His hard gaze burns. "You think you can take me?"

The double meaning trickles down your spine.

His sultry tone and menacing demeanor make you want to kick him in the balls.

Yet, you stand still, half hoping he'll flip you onto the mat right now.

"I've beaten Logan plenty of times. He's ten times stronger than you."

Really? Erik lazily raises a brow.

A gasp tears through your throat as your necklace tightens, drawing you towards the ceiling. You hang from it as Erik manipulates the chain. Your hands claw at your neck, but it's no use. You aren't choking. On the contrary, you can breathe fine, but unless you can get the damn thing off, Erik could have you dangling mid-air for who knows how long. However long he wants, you growl, kicking at his chest. Erik catches your foot in one hand. You lift the other — forgetting there's metal in the zipper of your boot. Using only his mind, Erik locks your leg into place. You whimper, angry and humiliated.

A wolfish grin spreads on Erik's face.

Your stomach jolts.

Curse his stupidly hot self.

"What has Logan been teaching you?"

He tuts as if you were a child.

You hate it.

But it's so attractive you could melt.

What is this inside you, stirring, and bowing to him? Why are you suddenly so comfortable, with your own necklace made a noose about your throat? It can't be just his looks. They're something, that's for sure, but definitely not enough to overthrow months of hatred. So what is it? Is it the way you've hurt for him in the dark, feeling how his heart races at night, sieged by grief, self-doubt, and bitterness. It doesn't take a mind reader like Charles to know that Erik has suffered greatly, and he relives that trauma every night. Sometimes, his panic will wake you up, and you've crept outside his door, listening to his heavy breathing as he tries to fall asleep after the nightmare. In those moments, you forget how horrible he is. Just like right now, as he's grinning. His gorgeous eyes are like the blue core of a fire; hotter than starlight; stronger than steel. They run you through. A cloud of daggers in your heart. You realize suddenly, that for all the reasons you hate, are reasons to like Erik Lehnsherr.

He's passionate. He's determined. He has incredible control over his powers.

Despite his unorthodox means, his end is the salvation of mutants.

Erik genuinely cares about his brothers and sisters.

Which means you fit in there somewhere.

You realize now that he's not all that bad.

Erik drops you onto the mat.

Your back aches from the impact and the air tumbles from your lungs. I hate him, you grunt, though it's only half true. Before you can consider getting up, Erik has a knee to your chest, and he's leaning over you. The bastard can't wipe the smile off his face.

"You're fairly easy," He muses. "I'm disappointed."

"Don't lie to me, Lehnsherr," You seeth. "I can feel everything. You wanted this. Don't pretend you're not enjoying every damn bit of it."

"You're right," He concedes. "I am enjoying this."

Ugh.