The loathing in Charles's gaze arrested him and for half a heartbeat Erik thought about doing what he was told. But then sense regained its toehold in his mind and he snorted, rolling his eyes as he pushed away from the table, not intending to occupy the plush chair in front of the desk until he'd done it.

"You can do better than that," he said, stretching his legs out, resting his hands on the arms of the chair. It felt so good to sit down; now that he'd done it, there was a chance Charles might have to have him thrown bodily from the house.

He raised his eyes to Charles's, still pouring forth hostility, and waved vaguely at Charles's glass with an air of unconcern. In for a penny, in for a pound. "A drink wouldn't hurt, either. I was almost blown up today."