Erik can only watch Charles watch the girls at the bar for so long before he cracks. Luckily, he sees it coming — so, instead of waiting until there's nothing for it but to drag Charles into the nearest men's room without knowing beforehand if he'd even welcome an angry blowjob from another man, he decides to employ a strategy. He's a Nazi hunter; strategy comes with the territory. If he plays this right, he can distract Charles from the girls and gauge Charles' interest in himself, all without tipping his hand.
He downs the rest of his beer, sets his tumbler down on the table. "What do you say to them?"
Charles looks at him. "— Pardon?"
"What do you say to them?" Charles' eyebrows pull together, so Erik clarifies: "To get them to go with you."
It could be a professional question. It is, in a way. Erik's interested in methods of persuasion; it's something they've talked about before. He hasn't had much experience with seduction, that's all. Holding a conversation with someone he wants to fuck, smiling at them, laughing with them, leaning into their space — it's nothing he's had the chance to try for himself. It's nothing he's ever needed to bother with, not when he can walk into the right kind of bar and get what he wants by suggesting a location: a back alley, bathroom stall, dark corner, it's never really mattered where. There's no finesse to it, and there's never needed to be, not for what Erik's been after before.
"Ah," Charles says. "I don't know — well, I suppose I could tell you, if you'll promise not to make fun. Raven already laughs at my lines; I don't think I could take your doing it too."
"All right. I won't."
It takes Charles a minute to start, and he looks like he wishes he'd refused. Then he sighs and begins. He's barely smiling, not laughing or leaning toward Erik, not touching him lightly on his arm or a knee (all things Erik had been hoping for, despite the fact that they're not in that sort of bar), but Erik hardly notices any of that; he's too enraptured by the things Charles is saying. Glorious things about mutations, about stunning mutations like Erik's took them from single-celled organisms to being the dominant form of reproductive life on this planet.
No wonder they go with him so easily. Erik had figured it was because Charles is...well, Charles. Who wouldn't go with him if he propositioned them?
"That's the best thing I've ever heard," Erik breathes when Charles is finished. If he'd had a strategy before, he's forgotten what it was. "Say it again."
Charles' face falls. "You promised not to make fun."
"I'm not. Say it again." Before he can stop himself, before he even knows he's going to say it, Erik adds, "Please."
"...You're actually serious."
"Yes," Erik says.
Charles says it again. By the time he's finished, Erik's knows he needs to hear it again: preferably while he's on his knees with Charles' cock in his mouth. He wonders how many times Charles could get through it before he came. He wonders how it would sound with Charles near incoherence. He has to know.
Erik hasn't had much practice with seduction, and his lines aren't anywhere near as good, but he can still get his point across. He stands up and leans over and says into Charles' ear with as much meaning as he can, "Bathroom."
Charles boggles at him. "...In the bathroom? I think not."
And that's when Erik remembers that Charles wasn't propositioning him. He was only demonstrating. He's never forgotten himself like this, and he's never been turned down, but he barely has the time to start feeling humiliated before Charles says:
"Oh, will you stop that? All I meant was we have a perfectly good hotel room. Honestly, Erik."
*
By the time they get back to the room, Erik is achingly hard, probably because Charles says it four more times on the way there. Erik wastes no time in backing Charles up against the closed door and reaching for his fly.
"Catching as your enthusiasm is, you do realize there's no rush," Charles says. "You could even kiss me first."
"Say it again," Erik says, and kisses him behind his ear and on his neck and on his shoulder — kissing him everywhere except his mouth, pausing only to ask that he say it again, and again, and again.