[setting: formal, masquerade, costumed, a waltz. mutant gala. took him a while to track the fucker down, but when he did, he has to pretend to be as nice as possible because as far as he's concerned in this masquerade nobody knows that he's charles xavier's cooler twin brother.

there is also the problem that wesley isn't a pussy, which means that he doesn't really have that electric charm that his brother had because he can't be bothered to put up with that kind of false bullshit, so he just smiles as pleasantly as he could, protected behind his mask that was totally not gay or anything even if it has feathers and shit (fuck this ball, man), and takes erik's hand the moment everybody switches partners, because he's that good at weaseling into things he's not wanted in.]

Magneto, [he says in his most charming xavier manner, allowing the man to lead him in the dance. he's not wearing a lot of metal, but he does have a stone knife hidden. somewhere. better safe than sorry.] congratulations on your victory.

[the one that landed my brother in a fucking wheelchair, you dipshit.]

On behalf of the mutant community, we appreciate your efforts in paving a way for a better future for mutantkind everywhere.

[he drops his voice into something almost conspiratorial, and whispers,]

If you ever need mercenaries, I can be quite helpful. Never a dull moment with you, Magneto, and I'm of the opinion that you're not one to pursue a false peace.

[a name - he needs a name - ah.]

The name is Cross, by the way.