FIC: shake your hips I | x-men: first class; hank/alex
Title: Shake Your Hips I
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Hank/Alex
Warnings: High school AU counts as a warning, I should think.
Summary: "Does Alex always wear skinny jeans and t-shirts that barely reach the hem, knowing that Hank is staring at him while pretending to find something in his locker?" Apparently so.
A/N: For this prompt at 1stclass_kink . Contains one sequel so far and will most likely be continued.
--
Hank thinks it would be just so great if he could focus on his project on the Human Genome Project for thirty seconds at a time. “The library is supposed to be a place for studying,” he whispers to Raven in a huff, but she just rolls her eyes at him and goes back to pretending to study history. She’s experiencing what she terms as “mega-senioritis” and therefore doesn’t care much about anything.
Still, Hank is a senior, too, and he cares plenty about doing well in every one of his classes! It’s just that, well, he has a slight problem with his attention span.
His problem is called Alex. Loud, brash, obnoxious Alex, sitting on the edge of the table across the room from him with that Cassidy kid hanging on his every word. It’s bad enough having three classes with that jock-turned-juvenile-delinquent, but he’s taken to wearing too-small muscle shirts and tight black jeans on a daily basis. It makes Hank, in his long-sleeved button-downs and slacks, bizarrely uncomfortable.
“Oh, look, they’re shouting again,” he mutters, trying indignantly to read.
“Alex, hey, grab me those National Geographics up there, you know what I mean?” laughs Cassidy, and Hank just knows he’s gesturing rudely - but at the sound of a ladder scraping across the floor, Hank looks up, ready to snap at the noise, only to be confronted by what may be the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen.
Alex is perched on the top of the wooden stepladder, one leg stretched out behind him for balance, reaching up to the very top shelf. His shirt’s ridden up, exposing flat abs and a tantalizing V of hipbones leading down to -
Raven snickers and Hank gulps as Alex steps down off the ladder, plops the magazines down on the table in front of Cassidy, and, lacing his fingers together, stretches his arms above his head. His jeans slip down slightly, and Hank can see thickening blond hair heading south.
“Honey, you’re drooling,” Raven whispers and pops him on the side of the head, redirecting his gaze to his book - but out of the corner of his eye he can see Alex, running a hand through his hair and staring right at him.
Hank bolts upright out of his chair. “Gotta go,” he mutters, “gotta go to class - bathroom - ummm.”
He feels Alex’s gaze burning into the back of his head as he goes.
--
Hank only has to sit through a couple more hours, and class is over for the week. Finally he can go home and have two days where he doesn’t have to think about Alex and his smooth skin and sharp bones. At all. Not that he thinks about them now.
Not that Alex is stretched tall right in front of him, trying to reach something out of his locker. That’s not happening. And Alex definitely isn’t turning to look at him. Or talking to him. Oh god.
“Hey, bozo!” Alex grins. It might be friendly, but Hank isn’t convinced. “Wanna help me grab this damn book? Apparently I need to read it by - “
“Yesterday,” Hank mutters, frowning and handing the book down to Alex easily, reluctantly. “You really couldn’t reach that?”
Alex just smiles, tilting his head at him and tucking his thumb into his belt loop, exposing a sliver of skin. Hank finds his eye drawn to it; he can’t seem to look at or think of anything else.
“You, uh, your shirt, it’s too tight, man,” he mutters, voice cracking as he glances away. Smooth, Hank.
“Nah.” Alex’s voice is warm; Hank feels a flush rising to his cheeks. “I think it’s just right.”
Something in that voice pulls on something deep in Hank’s stomach, something that screams Danger! “Goodluckonyourreadinggottago!” he yelps and fast walks the hell out of there, hoping against hope that Alex isn’t watching him go.
--
His shower that night is tumultuous, to say the least. The second he starts soaping up, his dick springs to life, demanding attention - which he’d be okay with if he could think of anything but Alex, those hips, and that sparse but thickening trail of hair. He won’t jerk off to that, so he just swallows tight and turns the water cold.
It doesn’t help much. It also doesn’t help when Hank steps out of the bathroom and slips his glasses back on, towel wrapped around his waist, only to see Alex sprawled on his bed, with a Guns ‘N’ Roses t-shirt stretched tight across his chest. Hank can see his nipples, and worse, he can see Alex studying him.
“I’m glad you saved that for me,” Alex says - it’s almost a purr - and cocks his chin at the tent under Hank’s towel.
Swallowing, Hank pulls the towel closer around his waist. “I don’t need you to mock me in my own home. How did you get in here, anyway?” None of this is calming him down any. Shit.
“Mock you?” Alex looks him up and down again. This time his eyes stay down. “I’m not mocking you at all. I’m dead serious. And - you left the window open,” he adds innocently.
“You’re lying.”
Alex snorts. “Do you really care?” Standing up, he steps closer to Hank, grinning like a shark when Hank steps back. “Come on. You don’t need to hang onto that thing, it’s not a chastity belt.”
Sputtering, Hank shakes his head, at what he’s not sure, and looks at Alex desperately. “Why are you doing this?”
Alex sighs. “I’m not gonna make you do this, man,” he says. “Not if you don’t want to. But we’re both seniors, and you work too hard, and . . . I’ve seen you look at me.”
“I don’t look at you.” Hank’s voice sounds too high. “Not in any way other than the ordinary way of looking.”
“Yeah, you do.” Alex’s grin softens, and Hank thinks: beautiful. “You look at me like I look at you. Like you wanna rip me apart and put me back together again. God, I wanna mess you up, man, yank on your hair and make your toes curl. But hey,” he adds, turning back to the window, “if you don’t wanna . . . “
Before he realizes what he’s doing, Hank has grabbed Alex and pulled him back against his chest, one big hand splayed across Alex’s abdomen, long fingers of his other hand caressing those sharp hips through his pants. Alex moans. “Hank,” he sighs, craning his neck to bite Hank’s jaw.
Knees buckling, Hank pulls Alex down onto the bed into his lap. He doesn’t mean to grind up into him, but he does, gasping at the thin fabric between them, towel and jeans, yet desperate to be rid of everything separating them. Somewhere in the back of his mind he’s screaming that it’s going way too fast, but it feels too good to stop now. He scratches at Alex’s hips, biting the back of his neck and reaching a hand up under his shirt, feeling the boy writhe against him and vibrating with his every whimper and moan.
“Baby, that feels good, but I wanna - look at you,” Alex says hoarsely. “And these pants are - “
“In the way,” Hank growls, throwing Alex down on the bed and fumbling with the buttons.
“I was gonna say too tight, but you’re right too,” Alex laughs. Even through the fog Hank knows he’s not laughing at him.
Hank’s towel has slipped off by now, leaving him entirely naked. Once he finally manages to undo Alex’s pants - he’s going commando, Hank shouldn’t be surprised - he looks up at Alex to find him flushed and staring at him.
“What?” he asks uncertainly.
Alex just groans, reaching out a hand to him. “Let me . . . “
Leaning forward tentatively, Hank shudders as Alex runs his palms down his chest, then around his ass and up his back. He feels worshipped and presses his hips into Alex’s, making them both cry out. “Too many clothes,” Hank mutters, and Alex twists his body up, wrestling his shirt off before shoving his pants down off his hips and kicks them off the bed.
They land on a lamp, and Hank stares down at Alex staring up at him.
He can’t even fathom how beautiful this boy is - golden and glowing, shining with sweat, collarbones and hips in sharp relief to his smooth skin, cock standing up for him, leaking at the tip. Hank feels his entire body twist in pleasure at the way Alex is looking at him: covetous, needy, full of lust.
There’s a whispered question in Hank’s ear and a hand snaking loosely around his cock, and for the first time Hank leans down and presses an inelegant kiss against Alex’s lips. It’s awkward at first, with Hank breathing hard through his nose and Alex whimpering, desperate for contact, but a rhythm comes soon enough, tongues meeting, teasing, coming back. Hank finds he enjoys being in control, fucking Alex’s mouth and thinking longingly of tasting him all over. Breaking away, he catches a deep cold breath before burying his face in Alex’s neck. “Wait,” he whines, “wait, I’m gonna - I don’t want to come yet - “
Alex stills his hand, fingers covered in precome, pupils blown. “Tell me what you want. Tell me.”
Hank won’t say. He does instead, biting Alex hard on the jaw, neck, ear, pulling him up by the hair for one last harsh kiss. He delicately tastes Alex’s nipple, teasing it to hardness before biting it savagely, not waiting for Alex’s cry of pain/pleasure to die away before nipping his way down the boy’s chest. His tongue dips into Alex’s belly button; he’s determined to taste every corner of Alex before he gets to the main course.
“Hank, Hank, Hank,” Alex chants, “you don’t have to, you don’t - oh god - “
“I want to,” Hank growls into Alex’s hip, and scrapes his teeth across the bone, and bites, and sucks. Alex cries out and bucks - “Oh god, Hank, oh god!” - and Hank scrapes his nails down Alex’s sides and watches in satisfaction as Alex’s hip purples, showing teeth marks. You’ll remember me tomorrow.
He can smell Alex, the musk of him, and buries his nose in the junction between leg and groin. Alex’s cock bobs against his cheek, precome smearing his face; looking up at Alex, he can see the boy is red-faced and panting. He smiles. “You smell good,” he says, and watches happily as Alex bites his lip, eyes falling shut.
The curiosity is killing him now, the smell overwhelming his senses - he props himself up on his elbows, leans in, and delicately licks the tip of Alex’s cock, tasting it. It’s bitter but not bad, something he could get used to. He takes the head in his mouth, sucks, moans, and gags as Alex pushes him down by the back of the head.
“Don’t fuck with me, man,” Alex says, voice cracking. “Please.”
And Hank takes a breath, opens wide, and swallows him whole. It hurts his jaw, but the ecstatic snap of Alex’s spine makes the ache worth it. He can’t keep it up for long but he can make it good, he knows, fingers slipping up to play at Alex’s balls the way he likes it, pulling off slightly to lap at the head before going back down again -
And it’s over too fast, Alex is coming all over his tongue, his lips, his face - he swallows some of it and goes back down, tasting Alex as he softens and his breathing slows.
Sitting up, Hank swipes the back of his hand across his face - quick fix - and starts to jack himself off when Alex’s hand closes on his wrist.
“Let me,” he says, “please,” and Hank has proven powerless to that please. He’s even more powerless to Alex’s thumb swiping across the head, fist tight, his cock covered in Alex’s come as Alex strokes him fast and hard. There’s nothing in his head but Alex, the way his hips are still pumping, his cock half-hard again, the little sounds he’s making and the “Come on, Hank, come on, come for me, you gotta come for me, fuck, so beautiful, man, come for me - “
And he does, fingers twisting in the sheets with “oh god” and “Alex” on his lips.
He thinks maybe he blacks out a little bit. When he opens his eyes, anyway, he’s cuddled up to Alex on the edge of the bed. He has no idea where his glasses got to, and finds he doesn’t really care.
“Are you gonna stay?” he says sleepily.
“Yeah,” comes the reply, as Alex twines their fingers together.
“Yeah,” Hank repeats. “Don’t leave me.”
“No way,” Alex says with a smile, eyes falling shut. “You’re a beast, Hank. Not going anywhere.”
--
SHAKE YOUR HIPS III
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Hank/Alex
Warnings: High school AU counts as a warning, I should think.
Summary: "Does Alex always wear skinny jeans and t-shirts that barely reach the hem, knowing that Hank is staring at him while pretending to find something in his locker?" Apparently so.
A/N: For this prompt at 1stclass_kink . Contains one sequel so far and will most likely be continued.
--
Hank thinks it would be just so great if he could focus on his project on the Human Genome Project for thirty seconds at a time. “The library is supposed to be a place for studying,” he whispers to Raven in a huff, but she just rolls her eyes at him and goes back to pretending to study history. She’s experiencing what she terms as “mega-senioritis” and therefore doesn’t care much about anything.
Still, Hank is a senior, too, and he cares plenty about doing well in every one of his classes! It’s just that, well, he has a slight problem with his attention span.
His problem is called Alex. Loud, brash, obnoxious Alex, sitting on the edge of the table across the room from him with that Cassidy kid hanging on his every word. It’s bad enough having three classes with that jock-turned-juvenile-delinquent, but he’s taken to wearing too-small muscle shirts and tight black jeans on a daily basis. It makes Hank, in his long-sleeved button-downs and slacks, bizarrely uncomfortable.
“Oh, look, they’re shouting again,” he mutters, trying indignantly to read.
“Alex, hey, grab me those National Geographics up there, you know what I mean?” laughs Cassidy, and Hank just knows he’s gesturing rudely - but at the sound of a ladder scraping across the floor, Hank looks up, ready to snap at the noise, only to be confronted by what may be the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen.
Alex is perched on the top of the wooden stepladder, one leg stretched out behind him for balance, reaching up to the very top shelf. His shirt’s ridden up, exposing flat abs and a tantalizing V of hipbones leading down to -
Raven snickers and Hank gulps as Alex steps down off the ladder, plops the magazines down on the table in front of Cassidy, and, lacing his fingers together, stretches his arms above his head. His jeans slip down slightly, and Hank can see thickening blond hair heading south.
“Honey, you’re drooling,” Raven whispers and pops him on the side of the head, redirecting his gaze to his book - but out of the corner of his eye he can see Alex, running a hand through his hair and staring right at him.
Hank bolts upright out of his chair. “Gotta go,” he mutters, “gotta go to class - bathroom - ummm.”
He feels Alex’s gaze burning into the back of his head as he goes.
--
Hank only has to sit through a couple more hours, and class is over for the week. Finally he can go home and have two days where he doesn’t have to think about Alex and his smooth skin and sharp bones. At all. Not that he thinks about them now.
Not that Alex is stretched tall right in front of him, trying to reach something out of his locker. That’s not happening. And Alex definitely isn’t turning to look at him. Or talking to him. Oh god.
“Hey, bozo!” Alex grins. It might be friendly, but Hank isn’t convinced. “Wanna help me grab this damn book? Apparently I need to read it by - “
“Yesterday,” Hank mutters, frowning and handing the book down to Alex easily, reluctantly. “You really couldn’t reach that?”
Alex just smiles, tilting his head at him and tucking his thumb into his belt loop, exposing a sliver of skin. Hank finds his eye drawn to it; he can’t seem to look at or think of anything else.
“You, uh, your shirt, it’s too tight, man,” he mutters, voice cracking as he glances away. Smooth, Hank.
“Nah.” Alex’s voice is warm; Hank feels a flush rising to his cheeks. “I think it’s just right.”
Something in that voice pulls on something deep in Hank’s stomach, something that screams Danger! “Goodluckonyourreadinggottago!” he yelps and fast walks the hell out of there, hoping against hope that Alex isn’t watching him go.
--
His shower that night is tumultuous, to say the least. The second he starts soaping up, his dick springs to life, demanding attention - which he’d be okay with if he could think of anything but Alex, those hips, and that sparse but thickening trail of hair. He won’t jerk off to that, so he just swallows tight and turns the water cold.
It doesn’t help much. It also doesn’t help when Hank steps out of the bathroom and slips his glasses back on, towel wrapped around his waist, only to see Alex sprawled on his bed, with a Guns ‘N’ Roses t-shirt stretched tight across his chest. Hank can see his nipples, and worse, he can see Alex studying him.
“I’m glad you saved that for me,” Alex says - it’s almost a purr - and cocks his chin at the tent under Hank’s towel.
Swallowing, Hank pulls the towel closer around his waist. “I don’t need you to mock me in my own home. How did you get in here, anyway?” None of this is calming him down any. Shit.
“Mock you?” Alex looks him up and down again. This time his eyes stay down. “I’m not mocking you at all. I’m dead serious. And - you left the window open,” he adds innocently.
“You’re lying.”
Alex snorts. “Do you really care?” Standing up, he steps closer to Hank, grinning like a shark when Hank steps back. “Come on. You don’t need to hang onto that thing, it’s not a chastity belt.”
Sputtering, Hank shakes his head, at what he’s not sure, and looks at Alex desperately. “Why are you doing this?”
Alex sighs. “I’m not gonna make you do this, man,” he says. “Not if you don’t want to. But we’re both seniors, and you work too hard, and . . . I’ve seen you look at me.”
“I don’t look at you.” Hank’s voice sounds too high. “Not in any way other than the ordinary way of looking.”
“Yeah, you do.” Alex’s grin softens, and Hank thinks: beautiful. “You look at me like I look at you. Like you wanna rip me apart and put me back together again. God, I wanna mess you up, man, yank on your hair and make your toes curl. But hey,” he adds, turning back to the window, “if you don’t wanna . . . “
Before he realizes what he’s doing, Hank has grabbed Alex and pulled him back against his chest, one big hand splayed across Alex’s abdomen, long fingers of his other hand caressing those sharp hips through his pants. Alex moans. “Hank,” he sighs, craning his neck to bite Hank’s jaw.
Knees buckling, Hank pulls Alex down onto the bed into his lap. He doesn’t mean to grind up into him, but he does, gasping at the thin fabric between them, towel and jeans, yet desperate to be rid of everything separating them. Somewhere in the back of his mind he’s screaming that it’s going way too fast, but it feels too good to stop now. He scratches at Alex’s hips, biting the back of his neck and reaching a hand up under his shirt, feeling the boy writhe against him and vibrating with his every whimper and moan.
“Baby, that feels good, but I wanna - look at you,” Alex says hoarsely. “And these pants are - “
“In the way,” Hank growls, throwing Alex down on the bed and fumbling with the buttons.
“I was gonna say too tight, but you’re right too,” Alex laughs. Even through the fog Hank knows he’s not laughing at him.
Hank’s towel has slipped off by now, leaving him entirely naked. Once he finally manages to undo Alex’s pants - he’s going commando, Hank shouldn’t be surprised - he looks up at Alex to find him flushed and staring at him.
“What?” he asks uncertainly.
Alex just groans, reaching out a hand to him. “Let me . . . “
Leaning forward tentatively, Hank shudders as Alex runs his palms down his chest, then around his ass and up his back. He feels worshipped and presses his hips into Alex’s, making them both cry out. “Too many clothes,” Hank mutters, and Alex twists his body up, wrestling his shirt off before shoving his pants down off his hips and kicks them off the bed.
They land on a lamp, and Hank stares down at Alex staring up at him.
He can’t even fathom how beautiful this boy is - golden and glowing, shining with sweat, collarbones and hips in sharp relief to his smooth skin, cock standing up for him, leaking at the tip. Hank feels his entire body twist in pleasure at the way Alex is looking at him: covetous, needy, full of lust.
There’s a whispered question in Hank’s ear and a hand snaking loosely around his cock, and for the first time Hank leans down and presses an inelegant kiss against Alex’s lips. It’s awkward at first, with Hank breathing hard through his nose and Alex whimpering, desperate for contact, but a rhythm comes soon enough, tongues meeting, teasing, coming back. Hank finds he enjoys being in control, fucking Alex’s mouth and thinking longingly of tasting him all over. Breaking away, he catches a deep cold breath before burying his face in Alex’s neck. “Wait,” he whines, “wait, I’m gonna - I don’t want to come yet - “
Alex stills his hand, fingers covered in precome, pupils blown. “Tell me what you want. Tell me.”
Hank won’t say. He does instead, biting Alex hard on the jaw, neck, ear, pulling him up by the hair for one last harsh kiss. He delicately tastes Alex’s nipple, teasing it to hardness before biting it savagely, not waiting for Alex’s cry of pain/pleasure to die away before nipping his way down the boy’s chest. His tongue dips into Alex’s belly button; he’s determined to taste every corner of Alex before he gets to the main course.
“Hank, Hank, Hank,” Alex chants, “you don’t have to, you don’t - oh god - “
“I want to,” Hank growls into Alex’s hip, and scrapes his teeth across the bone, and bites, and sucks. Alex cries out and bucks - “Oh god, Hank, oh god!” - and Hank scrapes his nails down Alex’s sides and watches in satisfaction as Alex’s hip purples, showing teeth marks. You’ll remember me tomorrow.
He can smell Alex, the musk of him, and buries his nose in the junction between leg and groin. Alex’s cock bobs against his cheek, precome smearing his face; looking up at Alex, he can see the boy is red-faced and panting. He smiles. “You smell good,” he says, and watches happily as Alex bites his lip, eyes falling shut.
The curiosity is killing him now, the smell overwhelming his senses - he props himself up on his elbows, leans in, and delicately licks the tip of Alex’s cock, tasting it. It’s bitter but not bad, something he could get used to. He takes the head in his mouth, sucks, moans, and gags as Alex pushes him down by the back of the head.
“Don’t fuck with me, man,” Alex says, voice cracking. “Please.”
And Hank takes a breath, opens wide, and swallows him whole. It hurts his jaw, but the ecstatic snap of Alex’s spine makes the ache worth it. He can’t keep it up for long but he can make it good, he knows, fingers slipping up to play at Alex’s balls the way he likes it, pulling off slightly to lap at the head before going back down again -
And it’s over too fast, Alex is coming all over his tongue, his lips, his face - he swallows some of it and goes back down, tasting Alex as he softens and his breathing slows.
Sitting up, Hank swipes the back of his hand across his face - quick fix - and starts to jack himself off when Alex’s hand closes on his wrist.
“Let me,” he says, “please,” and Hank has proven powerless to that please. He’s even more powerless to Alex’s thumb swiping across the head, fist tight, his cock covered in Alex’s come as Alex strokes him fast and hard. There’s nothing in his head but Alex, the way his hips are still pumping, his cock half-hard again, the little sounds he’s making and the “Come on, Hank, come on, come for me, you gotta come for me, fuck, so beautiful, man, come for me - “
And he does, fingers twisting in the sheets with “oh god” and “Alex” on his lips.
He thinks maybe he blacks out a little bit. When he opens his eyes, anyway, he’s cuddled up to Alex on the edge of the bed. He has no idea where his glasses got to, and finds he doesn’t really care.
“Are you gonna stay?” he says sleepily.
“Yeah,” comes the reply, as Alex twines their fingers together.
“Yeah,” Hank repeats. “Don’t leave me.”
“No way,” Alex says with a smile, eyes falling shut. “You’re a beast, Hank. Not going anywhere.”
--
SHAKE YOUR HIPS III