X-Men Imagines

Charles

Warning: alcohol, cussing, this is basically fluff
Prompt: you and Charles get drunk, do flips and tricks on his bed, then fall asleep drunk cuddling
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This was probably your seventh shot, but honestly you lost count a while back. Charles was still sipping on his third glass of whiskey, but both of you were tipsy as hell. You looked over at the telepath, giggling at his rosy cheeks.

"What?" He murmured, looking down at you. You shrugged, "Just thinkin'. D'you wanna play a game?"

Charles chuckled. "What kind of game?"

Giggling again, you shakily stood up, pausing to gain your balance before walking across the room and belly flopping onto his queen bed.

"(Name)! What the hell are you doing?" He laughed, setting his drink down. You laughed with him, sitting up. "Whoever does the worst drink has to trick a shot, and the best has to trick half a glass of whiskey."

Charles raised an eyebrow. "I'think your words are mixed up."

"Ha, whatever. Your turn."

Charles sighed, rubbing his neck as you rolled off his bed and watched. The mutant walked backwards, running to his bed, jumping just before he got there and spinning in the air. The mutant landed messily on his side.

You gasped, making a sad sound. "That's not fair! You're better!"

"I'm also less drunk, so.." Charles smirked, downing the last of his whiskey, which was almost half. You poured a shot, quickly taking it and wiping your lips. "I'm going to get it this time!"

Charles mentioned at the bed, a small smile playing at his lips. You looked around before dragging a chair in front of the bed. You ran forward, kicking off the chair and doing a flip onto the bed.

Charles clapped loudly, still smiling. He waited for you to move, running up and obviously trying to copy your move. However, the telepath didn't flip all the way and landed on his shoulders.

"Fuck!" He yelled, muffled by the blanket. You laughed, pouring a new glass and drinking half of it before bring a shot to Charles. He took it, frowning deeply.

Your game went on for an hour or two more, the tricks getting stupider and stupider until you were both too drunk to do much else but walk and roll onto the bed.

You both sported multiple bruises from landing wrong, and Charles had to hold you back on your last run.

"Charles!" You whined, trying halfheartedly to pull away, "What th'fuck?"

He laughed. "I think is time to stop, (name)."

You huffed, "Nah! I wanna win!"

Charles still had you in his arms. "Just relax m'kay? You're gonna have a killer headache in th'mornin'."

Frowning, you listened to what he said, already feeling the pull of sleep. "But Charl's,"

You fell asleep cradled in Charles' arms, snoring softly from all the alcohol in your system. The telepath laid you down on his messy bed, barely thinking to take off your sneakers before falling asleep beside you, arm tucked loosely around your shoulders.