Charles snuggles his head deeper into Erik’s side. He heaved a contented sigh as his lover runs a hand through his hair. In the back of his mind he could feel the contented hum of the children, Emma, Janos, and Azazel downstairs in the kitchen. Despite the significant difference in beliefs on mutant politics, they had all agreed to meet for dinner to celebrate Charles getting approval to open his school.
Fourteen months had passed since the Cuban Missile Crisis. Without the leadership of Sebastian Shaw, the remaining members of the Hellfire Club had become far less openly antagonistic towards humans. Though they were still firm believers in mutant supremacy, they were more willing to make compromises. Emma Frost felt that she owed Charles a debt after his testimony in her favor convinced the CIA to release her from their custody.
Out of gratitude, she offered to help financially support Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters if she could be a member of the Board of Directors. Both she and Charles knew that he was more than capable of supporting the school with his family’s fortune, but Emma’s real goal was influence over the mutant’s education.
Charles agreed to her request, for he had seen how single-minded beliefs had nearly lead the world to total Armageddon. Incorporating the less extreme elements of mutant supremacist’s teachings about pride and self-love could lead the students to respect instead of fear their capabilities. Perhaps through balanced viewpoints, education, and diplomacy, mutant-kind would someday achieve equality and acceptance.
“What are you thinking about, schatz?” Erik asked, pressing a kiss to Charles’ forehead. “I can feel your mind buzzing like mad.”
“Just about how different the world would be today if you had gone through with your plans in Cuba.” Erik’s forehead wrinkled in pain and disgust at the thought.
“I never thought I’d be able to love again after what I had been through,” Erik started. He absent-mindedly brought his hand to Charles’ lower back, where the bullet had ricocheted into his spine. Though he couldn’t feel the touch there, Charles appreciated the gesture.
“I wanted to hate you that night we first met, when you first stopped me from killing Shaw. I had spent so long drowning in my own feelings of pain and loss and vengeance, I was incapable of understanding anything else. But then I got to know you, Raven, and all the children, and it was like I had a family again. But not even that acceptance and love was enough to balance out my hatred for those who had hurt me.”
“I have felt your pain,” Charles reassured. “Your feelings were justified, though your actions could have been better thought out. But you weren’t the only one who made mistakes, old friend. My willful naïveté and blind trust in humanity nearly cost us our lives that day.”
“I guess we can both be a bit stubborn and set in our ways.”
“A bit?”
“Do you remember, on the beach, that was the first time I told you that I loved you? It wasn’t until I thought that I was going to lose you that I realized.”
“I knew you loved me before, when you moved the satellite. Or at least I hoped you did.”
“We both know now, and that’s what is important,” Erik said as he captured his companion’s mouth for a deep kiss.
“Quick question, what do you think about kids?” Charles asks suddenly, pulling away from the kiss.
“Considering I’m cohabitating with a man with who is opening up a children’s boarding school in which I am to be a teacher at, I suppose I don’t mind them.” Erik laughed. “We’ll be raising a generation of mutant children to live with pride instead of fear, and they will teach their children to do the same. I could never have wished for anything more.”
“But how would you feel about raising our own children?”
“Like being fathers?”
“Yes, like being fathers. There are so many abandoned mutant children out there we could adopt, or we could use a surrogate if you preferred. I thought that they could call me Dad or Father, and you Papa, that is if you’re even interested and you don’t think it’s too soon to be discussi-’’
Erik caught off Charles’ rambling with a tender kiss. “I would be honored to raise children with you, love. Maybe not today or tomorrow or next week, but I know that you are it for me. Someday soon, I’m going to give you a ring, take your hands under a chuppah, and marry you for time and eternity, Charles Xavier.”
Charles couldn’t help to blush at the sincerity in Erik’s voice. He didn’t need to use his telepathy to know that he felt every word he said deep within his soul.
“Well, I’m glad you’re not opposed, because looking over the school’s preliminary roster had me thinking about baby names. I’ve always liked the name David. And I wouldn’t mind naming one after either or both of our fathers. Jakob and Brian are both good, strong names.”
“No,” Erik said firmly. “Nor would I want a girl to be Ruth or Edie. I wouldn’t force any child to bear the burden of the memories associated with them. Our children will be their own selves with their own unique names.”
“How many do you think you would want?”
“Children? It’s too soon to tell, but it was sometimes rather lonely with just Raven and I, so at least three.”
“If we actually like them, we could have as many as six or seven. I’ve always wanted a big family. Just think of it Charles, our own little army of mutants,” Erik exclaimed. “Don’t worry, I meant ‘army’ in a completely metaphorical and not at all ‘megalomaniac dictator who will take over the world and enslave all humans’ kind of way,” Erik clarified when Charles shot him an accusatory look.
"We'll finish this conversation later, I can feel someone coming."
“Come on, lovebirds,” Raven shouts as she barrels into the study. “Dinner’s ready. You’ll want to come soon, before Sean and Alex eat everything in sight.”
“We’ll be down in just a minute, dear,” Charles replied, leaning on Erik’s arm before settling himself into his wheelchair. They follow her thundering footsteps to the house’s main floor.
“The mansion is coming along quite nicely,” Erik said, gesturing to the new wheelchair ramp Charles had had installed.
“Indeed, it is. I’ve gotten all of the main areas updated to be wheelchair accessible, now the contractors are just doing some tweaks to the west wing to make it more dorm-like.”
“I’m sure Alex, Azazel, and I could do whatever repairs the bedrooms need,” said Erik.
“I may trust you with my life, but I won’t trust you with renovating hundred-year-old mahogany paneling,” Charles scoffed.
“As if a bunch of mutant children with little to no control over their abilities aren’t going to mess up the paneling and every other aspect of the house,” Erik muttered.
“You better get all your snark out now, because what are we going to do tonight, darling?” asked Charles.
“I’m going to be on my best behavior and not bring up politics at the dinner table,” Erik grumbled. “I promise to do my best, but I make no such assumptions for Emma.”
“It’s ok, I had Hank pick up some fire extinguishers at the store in case worse comes to worse,” Charles joked.
“I’m not nearly as worried about fire and destruction as I am of dying of food poisoning. If that sister of yours is as much of a disaster in the kitchen as you are, then we’re all doomed.”
As they entered the dining room, they were met with a surprisingly domestic tableau. Alex was wildly gesticulating with one hand while telling a story to a wildly laughing Janos, while the other hand was holding onto Armando’s. Emma was helping Sean to arrange the silverware, explaining the place settings with a casually elegant air. Hank, in his furry blue form, was arm-wrestling with Azazel while Angel and Raven cheered them on.
“It’s like a big family Thanksgiving,” Charles remarked as he wheeled to the the head of the large table.
“Except with fewer drunk, emotionally abusive relatives,” Raven quipped.
“Yeah, and we’re celebrating something worthwhile, not the slaughter of Native and indigenous populations.” Angel added.
“What happened to no starting fights at the dinner table?” Sean asked, elbowing her.
“Stating objective historical facts shouldn’t start a fight,” Angel retorted.
“No, it shouldn’t,” Erik agreed. “Now before we actually start fighting, how about we all sit down and have everyone introduce their dish? Let’s start with Janos and go around.”
The group all scrambled to grab their respective platters and trays before arranging themselves around the table.
“I made paella valenciana, my great-grandmother’s recipe,” Janos said, taking the lid off the dish with a flourish. The scent of paprika and saffron wafted through the air, earning hums of approval all around.
“I made homemade Mac and Cheese,” Alex said. “It’s my little brother Scott’s favorite. He’ll be so jealous when I call him later that he’ll try to get me to send any leftovers back to Ohio, so eat up.”
“I may be a New Yorker through and through, but I can always appreciate some Southern soul food, so I made you guys my mama’s chicken and waffles,” Darwin revealed.
“My mom can’t cook worth shit, so I wasn’t sure what to make for tonight,” said Sean, earning a couple of laughs. “But last week during Hanukkah Erik taught me how to make latkes, so I hope I did them justice.” Erik looked touched at the gesture and nodded his approval.
“Moira is going to be late because of work, but she promised to come by later with pie,” said Charles. “Erik and I got out of cooking because we’re hosting, but I am very much looking forward to eating everyone else’s delicious food.”
“I made Shchi, or cabbage soup, and black bread,” Azazel presented. “Both are staples in my country.”
“I brought a bit of Boston class with broiled lobster tails and some champagne straight from my father’s secret stash,” said Emma.
“I’m bringing some Afro-Brazilian culture to the table with pão de queijo, or cheese bread,” said Angel.
“Afro-Latinx’s represent,” Darwin says, high-fiving her from across the table.
“And then there’s Hank and I, representing white-as-all-get-out America,” Raven laughed. “He may be a genius in the lab, but he’s a right idiot in the kitchen, so have fun choking down his lumpy mashed potatoes. And my cooking skills are no better than Charles’, so I made cake from a box mix and bought some beer to minimize the damage to your guys’ digestive systems.”
Erik shot Charles an I told you so look from across the table, to which he replied with the mental equivalent of a friendly shove.
“Before we dig in, I’d like to sincerely thank everybody for the hard work that they put in to making this feast we have before us,” said Charles. “And for making the effort to come together to celebrate the imminent opening of Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters, the world’s first academy where mutant children can learn to develop and harness their powers in a safe environment. I’d like to propose a toast to celebrate the occasion. Hank, if you would do the honors.”
Emma handed Hank the bottle of champagne, which he uncorked and poured everyone a glassful. Everyone raised their glass and toasted to what they were grateful for.
“To those who have come before us.”
“To those who will come after.”
“To peace and understanding.”
“To education.”
“To friendship.”
“To comfort.”
“To food.”
“To pride.”
“To love.”
“To life.”
“To family.”
Glasses clinked and plates were passed; the feast had begun. Compliments on the dishes abounded and conversation flowed easily. None of the food should have tasted even remotely good together, but surrounded by laughter and with substantial alcohol consumption, it felt like the best meal that any of them had ever eaten.
By some miracle, the subject of politics was mostly avoided; Charles only had to ask Janos to use his wind power to separate Raven and Angel to stop them from killing the other once.
Once everyone had eaten their fill, the party travelled over to the drawing room. Raven turned on the record player and dragged a reluctant Hank over to dance with her, and was soon joined by Angel, Janos, Emma, and Azazel. Sean sprawled himself on one of the sofas while Alex and Darwin curled up together on a loveseat.
“I don’t think I’ll be able to eat for another week,” said Sean, letting out a sonic burp.
“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to eat again,” said Alex, slumping to rest his head on Darwin’s shoulder.
There was a quick rap on the door, followed by Moira entering the room. “Sorry I missed dinner, but I brought apple pie!” she said, cheeks ruddy from coming in from the cold.
“Piiiiiiiieeee,” Sean moaned, swooping in and taking the pan from her hands. She shrugged and walked over to greet the host.
“I know I just said I could never eat again, but,” said Alex, gesturing towards the dessert.
“Go ahead, baby, eat some pie,” Darwin said, laughing fondly.
“Dear lord, who allowed Sean to have a third beer?” asked Charles. “He is going to have a nightmare hangover tomorrow and I am not looking forward to dealing with it.”
“That’s what you get for seating him next to two functioning alcoholics,” said Erik, gesturing to Emma and Azazel.
“Judging from your days at Oxford, you’re an expert on hangovers,” Moira teased.
“That I am,” Charles admitted.
Looking around the room at the group laughing and celebrating together, Charles found it hard to believe that just a year ago that half of them had been mortal enemies with the others. He had thought that he was never going to see Erik or Raven, the two people he cared about most, ever again. But through compromise and communication, both of those relationships were stronger than ever. He almost laughed of the sight of hardened criminal Emma Frost and CIA agent Moira MacTaggart in a room, holding a civil conversation. It gave him hope that humanity could one day achieve this level of peace and love.
“You’re projecting, Charles,” Erik said with a chuckle.
“I’m sorry,” Charles said. “All the champagne has made me even more hopeful than usual.”
“I don’t share your optimism, but suppose I have to admit that humanity isn’t always all that bad,” Erik admitted
“Oh? And what makes you think that?” Charles asks, taken aback.
“Humanity produced you,” Erik said with a soft smile. “And you brought us all together.”
“Domesticity has made you soft, old friend,” Charles said, pulling Erik in for a kiss.
“Wait, everyone! Let me grab my camera for a group photo,” said Raven. She dashed into the next room, returning with an instant Polaroid camera.
“Don’t we need a tri-pod if we’re all going to be in the picture?” asked Sean.
“I’ll take care of that,” said Azazel, taking the device from Raven. “Everyone stand in front of the fireplace.”
Once everyone was arranged, Azazel lined up the shot, teleporting at the last second so that he was in the picture as well.
Everyone passed around the photo to admire it. The mantel was decorated in tinsel and fir garlands, with Erik’s menorah in the center. Darwin was holding a sprig of mistletoe above Alex’s head and kissing him while Sean was flashing double bunny ears behind their heads. Raven had her arms wrapped tightly around Hank and Angel. Everyone’s smiles were incandescent. Even the always chilly White Queen looked genuinely happy.
Moira took a pen from her clutch to label the picture.
December 21st, 1963
The X-family celebrating school approval
The picture was hung in a place of honor in Professor Xavier’s office for years to come.