… Charles Xavier
Charles kept a strict morning routine at the Mansion. Breakfast at a set time wasn't just a habit — it was a way to keep a steady anchor in the daily lives of the young people under his care. It was also the perfect time to observe.
Sitting at the head of the long table in the main dining hall, Charles sipped his tea with measured movements, eyes quietly tracking the students around him.
Hank sat beside him, holding his cup carefully while calmly debating dimensional physics with Kurt.
Scott, as always, sat up straight, almost military. His plate was simple, and he spoke only a little with Evan, who was waving his hands as if telling some exaggerated training story.
Kitty was chattering away about something involving music and — as far as Charles could tell — a failed attempt to hack the Mansion's sound system.
But it was Jean who caught his attention. She was quiet. Abnormally quiet. Her thoughts… usually smooth, calm, and perfectly ordered… were now all over the place. Turbulent.
Fragments of images — heat, touch, tension — trying to hide behind thin mental barriers.
Charles didn't push. He would never invade a student's mind out of curiosity. But he still caught what spilled out.
And Jean was conflicted. He set his cup down slowly, turning his gaze to the window. He thought about yesterday's conversation with Emma Frost.
Two schools. Two philosophies.
Emma believed people needed to be forced to accept mutants. Education was a tool, yes, but a secondary one. The world wouldn't make room out of goodwill. It needed pressure. Image. Influence. Maybe even fear.
Charles didn't agree.
Even though he saw the results — her school in Massachusetts was a flawless example of order — there was something too cold about her logic. Too impersonal.
Just like Magneto.
Erik also believed the world wouldn't change with kindness.
Charles sighed. The weight of those thoughts was always there. A silent war between hope and pragmatism. But then, the hall's quiet was gently cut by the sound of footsteps coming from the second floor.
He looked up.
Ororo Munroe was coming down the stairs. Regal. Upright posture. Steady eyes. But she wasn't alone. Next to her, walking with total ease — and, to Charles, with a hint of triumph on his face — was Aidan Quinn.
Way too young for that smile. Way too confident to be just a guest.
And that's when Charles noticed. Just like Jean had said… he felt nothing. Aidan's mind was a total void. Like a missing piece in a puzzle. He was right there, in plain sight… but with zero psychic presence.
Unusual. Extremely unusual. He kept his composure, but mentally logged every detail.
Ororo greeted the students briefly, staying calm. Jean looked at Aidan for a moment… and then looked away. Not quickly enough to hide the warmth in her eyes.
Rogue was watching too. More subtle. More skeptical. But watching.
Charles took another sip, his eyes tracking the movement around the table with that kind of calm only he could keep — even as the chess pieces started moving in unpredictable ways.
"Good morning, Mr. Quinn." His voice was clear and steady, carrying a natural authority. Instantly, everyone at the table turned to look at the newcomer.
Aidan paused for a moment. His smile grew a little wider, like he'd just been waiting for the perfect moment to get officially noticed.
"I see you decided to accept our hospitality", Charles continued, with a small gesture of his hand. "Did you sleep well?"
Aidan shot a quick glance at Ororo beside him — who kept a neutral expression, though her lips pressed together just slightly.
"Calling it a good night would be an understatement, Professor", he replied, tone light, almost teasing. "But yeah. I slept great. The mansion is… comfortable."
Scott narrowed his eyes. Jean kept her posture, but bit the inside of her cheek. Rogue just raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms.
Charles didn't react to the undertone. But he picked up everything. The rhythm of his voice. The body language. The reactions around the table.
"I'm glad to hear it", he said, with a polite little smile. "I hope you enjoy breakfast, too. Here, we believe a productive day starts with a sharp mind… and a full stomach."
Aidan tilted his head slightly, like he was accepting a challenge disguised as an invitation.
"Then I'd better eat well", he replied, grabbing a tray. "I get the feeling I'll need a sharp mind… today more than ever."
Ororo stayed silent, heading to the end of the table with her usual perfect posture. But Charles… he could read between the lines. Something had happened between those two while he was gone. And with all his years of experience, Charles could definitely make a guess.
… Aidan Quinn
Breakfast at the X-Mansion was, like everything in that place, a chaotic mix of routine and barely-hidden tension.
Scott tried to get Xavier talking about the afternoon training session. Logan complained the bacon was "too light" and that a real breakfast was rare steak. Beast was rambling about some theory on adaptive mutations while absentmindedly stirring his coffee.
And me? Sitting among teenage gods, animated icons from my childhood, and a storm with crossed legs called Ororo Munroe.
Kurt and Evan, sitting side by side, made sure to pull me into the conversation.
"So, Aidan…" Evan started, chin in hand. "Were you actually using those techniques in the Danger Room, or was it all for show?"
"Style is half the fight", I answered, grabbing a grape from the bowl in front of me. "If you're going to beat someone, do it with style. And a little dramatic lighting, if you can."
Kurt laughed. "This guy's nuts."
"And charming~" I added, flashing a grin in the girls' direction.
Kitty let out a muffled laugh, pretending to hide it with her hand. Ororo just sipped her juice like nothing happened. Professional. Jean looked away quickly, blushing almost instantly. But I noticed. Jean wasn't looking at me with her usual lightness. She looked like she knew something. And it wasn't just the charm.
It was… last night. My mind's blocked — she can't get in. But Ororo's?
She could.
And Jean… Jean was probably curious. A telepath. A sensitive girl, connected with everyone in the house. If she, by any chance, poked around in Ororo's mind…
Oh.
So she heard. Or felt. Or experienced. Somehow, that elegant innocence she always had had just been invaded by a not-so-innocent moment between me and one of her mentors.
"You okay over there, Jean?" I asked, keeping my tone casual, but locking eyes with her. "You look… flushed. Is it hot in here or is it just me?"
She blinked, swallowed, and looked away, poking at her eggs. "It's just… just hot, that's all", she mumbled.
"I can help with that, if you want", I went on, smiling. "They say my presence cools some people off… and heats others up."
She bit her lip, her face redder than the strawberry juice. Delicious.
Kitty glanced back and forth between us, then smiled. "Jean's not used to that kind of flirting."
"She should be~" I teased. "The world's full of danger. I'm just the prettiest one."
Even Ororo, beside me, hid a smile behind her glass. And Jean… well, she couldn't stop looking at me now. Flickering between contained anger and something much, much warmer.
Maybe curiosity. Maybe desire. Or maybe just pure embarrassment. But the best part? All of those worked for me.
…
Xavier gently set his cup down on the saucer, the soft clink fading under the cafeteria chatter. The room was still buzzing from my arrival. I could feel it in the looks, the barely hidden smiles, the conversations that stopped when I walked by.
And then, with that teacherly tone that made you feel like you were about to get a lesson in morals and philosophy at the same time, Professor Xavier started.
"Mr. Quinn…" He called me like he'd known me for years. "Let me officially welcome you to Xavier's Institute for Gifted Youngsters."
I nodded, chewing on a victory-flavored pancake.
"Our purpose here goes beyond just offering shelter or training. The Mansion is a place where young people like you — like all of us here — can grow in an environment of understanding, structure, and respect. The world out there still fears what it doesn't understand. Many see us as threats. Others… as monsters."
Quick glances went around the table.
"Our job is to show we're more than our gifts. We're people. Thinking, feeling, and capable of doing good — even when the world keeps pushing us to the sidelines."
Dramatic. Moving. Well written. I almost wanted to clap. Almost. I swallowed the last bite, wiped my mouth with a napkin, and crossed my arms, shooting Xavier my best crooked grin.
"Professor, great speech. Had intensity, purpose, even a dash of melancholy — perfect for a trailer."
Jean stifled a laugh. Kitty failed to hide hers. Xavier stayed calm. The guy was a wall. Gentle, sure. But a wall.
"But to be honest…" I went on, elbows on the table, "I didn't come here to save the world. Or to be a symbol. I came because the beds are good, the powers are interesting… and so are the girls."
Ororo raised an eyebrow. Rogue snorted. Jean looked down, visibly red.
Xavier kept his tone even. "And yet you're here. Which means part of you is willing to listen. To observe. To… learn."
"Maybe…" I shrugged. "Or maybe I just want to use the Danger Room until my bones complain. Either way, I'm flexible."
Xavier smiled, with that infinite patience you only get from reading hundreds of confused minds and still finding it funny.
"I believe we'll get along just fine, Mr. Quinn."
"Me too", I replied. "As long as the coffee keeps coming, and you don't try to lock me up if I accidentally charm half the female staff."
On the other side of the table, Logan grunted.
"This kid's gonna give me an ulcer…"
"I've already given you a headache, Logan?" I grinned. "I thought that only happened after dinner."
Jean choked. Rogue's eyes widened. Even Evan let out a muffled, "oh, no…"
Just another normal day at Xavier's Mansion.
…
After charming the breakfast table with my natural charisma — and a couple of jokes that almost got me slashed by Logan's claws — I slipped away with calculated discretion. Not running away. Just strategy.
While everyone else was getting ready for paired training — probably Professor X's idea, wanting to see if the new kids would kill each other or make out — I had a different goal in mind.
My favorite goth still hadn't shown up. And Raven isn't the kind of girl you drag anywhere. She's the kind you have to convince… or tease until she curses you.
So I snuck into the Mansion kitchen and set my plan in motion: waffles.
Yep. Waffles. With berries, whipped cream, and a dark bittersweet chocolate drizzle. Something visually moody enough to match her aesthetic, but sweet enough to warm even the darkest soul.
I grabbed a tray, arranged everything with the precision of a seductive chef, and headed down the hallway toward the dorms, footsteps light.
I got to her door. Knocked twice. Silence. Knocked again.
"If you're hurt, dying, or having your soul devoured, say it now", she mumbled from inside, voice muffled, sleepy, and dangerously pissed off. "Otherwise… go away."
"What if I bring waffles, made with care and symbolic whipped cream?"
More silence. Then… the sound of the doorknob turning. The door cracked open just enough for me to see one suspicious eye and a bit of messy hair.
"They have waffles here?"
"Not like these", I said, showing her the tray. "Made by me. Malicious energy included. Practically an aphrodisiac."
[Fearie Feast] for the win. Once you've had a taste, there's no going back. Not even Raven.
She stared. Long and hard. Then… opened the door just a bit more.
See?
The light in her room was low. Heavy curtains, like a stage waiting for the end of the world. She was in a dark nightgown, hair messy, eyes heavy with sleep and power. And still… gorgeous.
"You gonna keep staring or are you gonna hand over the damn tray?"
I gave it to her, slowly, with a grin. She took it. Our fingers brushed for a second longer than necessary.
"There's paired training", I said, leaning against the doorframe. "I have a feeling you'll want to watch. Or, I dunno… hang around and judge me silently."
"Only if it's fun."
"I'm always fun."
She looked at me, ate a spoonful of whipped cream, and said, mouth still full, "Idiot."
"But your favorite idiot."
She closed the door slowly, but not before I caught the edge of a smile.
Victory.
Now, finally… time for training. And with any luck, someone was gonna sweat enough to take their shirt off.
… Ororo Munroe (Storm)
The morning had started off with more intensity than Ororo cared to admit.
She woke up feeling lighter — physically, emotionally — and still had the vivid memory of strong hands, shameless grins, and ragged breaths against her skin.
It was a night she shouldn't have had. But she did.
And now, with the halls of the Mansion filled with young mutants getting ready for training, Ororo Munroe kept her posture steady, arms crossed — and her thoughts carefully lined up. Even though her skin still remembered way too much from the night before.
She watched the students gather around Professor Xavier. Kurt popped in first, his usual bamf, a hint of sulfur, and a mischievous grin. Kitty followed right after, hair pulled back in a quick ponytail, yawning between smiles at her friends.
Jean and Scott showed up together, as always. Two pillars of the team — him rigid as ever, and her… a little less centered than usual. Jean's eyes were downcast, her mood more contained. And Ororo noticed. Jean kept looking away more than normal. And every time their eyes met — even by accident — Jean would blush.
So that was it. Jean might not be able to read Aidan's mind, but… hers? Maybe she'd brushed up against it by accident. Maybe she'd heard too much. Felt too much. The fact that Jean was fidgety, thoughtful, and wearing that blush that didn't match her usual calm only made Ororo more certain.
You heard. Or at least… you felt, Ororo thought, quietly.
And Jean didn't know how to deal with it.
Evan walked in laughing, trading jabs with Rogue. The southern girl chewed her gum and smiled, but Ororo saw it — Rogue's eyes were far away. Searching. Waiting. Maybe for someone. Maybe for answers she didn't even know she wanted yet.
Charles turned his chair slightly to face the group.
"Today we'll be doing paired training", he said in that calm, authoritative tone. "Nothing too intense. Just getting a feel for synergy between fighting styles. Strategy, teamwork… and self-control."
Self-control. Ororo had to fight back an internal laugh. The timing was perfect.
"Kitty and Kurt. Evan and Logan. Scott and Jean."
Jean looked away. Again. Charles paused briefly, and all eyes turned to him.
"Rogue… you'll be paired with Aidan."
A low sigh swept through the room. Kitty covered her mouth to keep from laughing. Scott frowned. Jean… froze.
And Rogue? She just crossed her arms and popped her gum before saying, "Sure. Because putting the new cocky kid with someone who can drain out your life is always a great idea."
Charles ignored the comment. He just turned as if he was expecting something.
The doors opened. And Aidan walked in with that same relaxed, confident stride he'd use walking into a presidential suite or a bar full of opportunities. Right next to him was Raven. The shadow in girl form. Always quiet. Always watching. The perfect contrast to Aidan's provoking spark.
Ororo couldn't help feeling a little current run across her skin. A shiver that had nothing to do with the cold. She recognized him. That same walk. That same smile. The same eyes that, just last night, had traveled down the curves of her body with a dangerous kind of respect — and unrestrained want.
"Are we late?" he asked, like he already knew the answer.
Charles replied lightly, "We were waiting. But now it looks like we're all here."
All eyes turned to Aidan. Rogue was studying him with genuine curiosity, like she was trying to figure out what all the tension around this guy was about. Jean… still didn't look directly at him. But Ororo saw it. She saw the way Aidan's gaze passed over the girls, like he always did, then lingered a little on Jean. A little glint in his eye.
He knew. Or at least, he suspected.
And when he turned his eyes to Ororo… there was more. A silent challenge. A provocation only the two of them would get.
She crossed her arms and kept her composure, but inside… that heat was still there.
Aidan was a complication. And a storm in the shape of a smile.
And now, everyone else was about to find that out, too.