FIC: your voice is a razorblade | x-men: first class; sean/alex
Title: Your Voice is a Razorblade
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Sean/Alex
Word Count: 882
Warnings: Rough sex.
Summary: "He pretends he doesn't see Sean shiver at the rasp of his voice."
A/N: Inspired by this picture and tumblr conversations.
--
They fuck, they don’t make love. Maybe someday they’ll get there, but tonight is all adrenaline and painful need.
It’s become habit now. Every time they get back from a mission, they’re taut like bowstrings, ready to fight or run or fuck. Alex is always burning up from the inside out, sweating in his goddamn spandex uniform. Sean just runs at the mouth, he always fucking runs at the mouth, and all Alex wants in life is to push his mouth up against his to make him stop talking.
The first time he tried it Sean hit him, not too hard but hard enough to sting. The second time he whined and arched his back and pressed himself into Alex because, he told Alex later, why the fuck not? Who else did they have but each other?
Tonight was the third mission in three weeks, and they’re fucking exhausted. Erik’s - Magneto’s been attacking civilians, destroying property, little shit escalating into bigger shit that led, tonight, to two bodies and something that was a body once but is now just meat. Sean’s shaking a little bit and grinning like a corpse, and Alex is full of anger and pain and heat. He wants to find Erik and Raven and Angel and blast them all to pieces, but he can’t. Sean’s his only option.
They walk into the mansion together. Charles is trailing behind, talking quietly to Hank and nursing his head. Alex glances back a few times.
“They’re probably talking about us,” Sean says. “About you. How good your ass looks in that spandex.”
“Shut up,” Alex growls. He pretends he doesn’t see Sean shiver at the rasp of his voice, just like Sean is pretending not to know how angry and overwhelmed Alex is, just like both of them act like they don’t know what’s going to happen next.
“What?” Sean’s lip curls in a smile, maybe, or a sneer, Alex can’t tell. “You’ve never seen Charles looking at you? Fucking Erik used to do it, and Hank’s always sniffing around you like a dog.”
“Don’t say that shit,” Alex snaps. “Don’t you dare. Don’t you talk about Erik and don’t say shit like that about Charles and Hank. Leave them out of it.”
“Leave them out of what?”
It’s a challenge, but Alex won’t acknowledge what they’re about to do. He looks away, feeling Sean’s stare burning his cheek, or maybe that’s the sun or the crazy heat inside him.
Timing is so important. He looks over his shoulder to make sure Charles and Hank are too far away to see them clearly, then grabs the front of Sean’s suit and drags him off the path to the mansion. Sean struggles but he’s laughing, too, and stumbling along after Alex with lights in his eyes. He just wants to be in control for once. Too fucking bad for him.
There’s a stand of trees that they’ve visited before. It worked pretty well then, a few nights after Erik and Raven left, when Sean collapsed under Alex’s hands and let him take over. It’s better when they start with the suits on, though, like now, because the suits have convenient little zips and flaps and Alex just has to push down on that spot between Sean’s shoulders before he’s on his knees and arching his back and pressing his ass against Alex’s cock.
“Man,” Sean snickers, unzipping the side of his suit and pushing it down so he can grab hold of his dick and pull pull twist, “you’re mad, you’re mad I’m not fucking jealous.”
“Shut your mouth, Sean,” Alex slurs, already drowning in the warmth and friction of the pale curve of Sean’s ass. “I don’t want to hear your voice for five seconds, okay?” He ruts. His mind is gone. He can’t -
And then Sean is fucking talking again.
“I’m not jealous.” He’s whispering but Alex can hear every goddamn word even though maybe Sean’s talking to himself. “I know you need me.”
With a surge of anger, Alex pushes him closer to the ground. He wants to rub Sean’s face in the dirt but it would take too much concentration, and as it is Alex is full to the brim with heat and hard as a rock and Sean’s open and inviting right in front of him.
Alex won’t ever admit to Sean what he does to him, the effect his body has on him, how pleasure and pain and snarled words are all entwined now and they’ll never come apart again no matter what Alex does. But he’ll pull him close to his chest and push in slow and brutal with just spit and sweat and precome. He’ll fuck Sean the way he likes it, slow and slow and fast fast fast, and pull little whines out of his throat and make him strip his cock desperately. He’ll watch and wonder at the way sweat drips to the tips of his curls and the way he throws his head back and bares his throat as he comes, as he feels Alex come.
He holds Sean afterwards, just for a minute, before he pulls out. They breathe slow and in tandem, just for a minute, before they roll away from each other and pretend to be separate again.
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Sean/Alex
Word Count: 882
Warnings: Rough sex.
Summary: "He pretends he doesn't see Sean shiver at the rasp of his voice."
A/N: Inspired by this picture and tumblr conversations.
--
They fuck, they don’t make love. Maybe someday they’ll get there, but tonight is all adrenaline and painful need.
It’s become habit now. Every time they get back from a mission, they’re taut like bowstrings, ready to fight or run or fuck. Alex is always burning up from the inside out, sweating in his goddamn spandex uniform. Sean just runs at the mouth, he always fucking runs at the mouth, and all Alex wants in life is to push his mouth up against his to make him stop talking.
The first time he tried it Sean hit him, not too hard but hard enough to sting. The second time he whined and arched his back and pressed himself into Alex because, he told Alex later, why the fuck not? Who else did they have but each other?
Tonight was the third mission in three weeks, and they’re fucking exhausted. Erik’s - Magneto’s been attacking civilians, destroying property, little shit escalating into bigger shit that led, tonight, to two bodies and something that was a body once but is now just meat. Sean’s shaking a little bit and grinning like a corpse, and Alex is full of anger and pain and heat. He wants to find Erik and Raven and Angel and blast them all to pieces, but he can’t. Sean’s his only option.
They walk into the mansion together. Charles is trailing behind, talking quietly to Hank and nursing his head. Alex glances back a few times.
“They’re probably talking about us,” Sean says. “About you. How good your ass looks in that spandex.”
“Shut up,” Alex growls. He pretends he doesn’t see Sean shiver at the rasp of his voice, just like Sean is pretending not to know how angry and overwhelmed Alex is, just like both of them act like they don’t know what’s going to happen next.
“What?” Sean’s lip curls in a smile, maybe, or a sneer, Alex can’t tell. “You’ve never seen Charles looking at you? Fucking Erik used to do it, and Hank’s always sniffing around you like a dog.”
“Don’t say that shit,” Alex snaps. “Don’t you dare. Don’t you talk about Erik and don’t say shit like that about Charles and Hank. Leave them out of it.”
“Leave them out of what?”
It’s a challenge, but Alex won’t acknowledge what they’re about to do. He looks away, feeling Sean’s stare burning his cheek, or maybe that’s the sun or the crazy heat inside him.
Timing is so important. He looks over his shoulder to make sure Charles and Hank are too far away to see them clearly, then grabs the front of Sean’s suit and drags him off the path to the mansion. Sean struggles but he’s laughing, too, and stumbling along after Alex with lights in his eyes. He just wants to be in control for once. Too fucking bad for him.
There’s a stand of trees that they’ve visited before. It worked pretty well then, a few nights after Erik and Raven left, when Sean collapsed under Alex’s hands and let him take over. It’s better when they start with the suits on, though, like now, because the suits have convenient little zips and flaps and Alex just has to push down on that spot between Sean’s shoulders before he’s on his knees and arching his back and pressing his ass against Alex’s cock.
“Man,” Sean snickers, unzipping the side of his suit and pushing it down so he can grab hold of his dick and pull pull twist, “you’re mad, you’re mad I’m not fucking jealous.”
“Shut your mouth, Sean,” Alex slurs, already drowning in the warmth and friction of the pale curve of Sean’s ass. “I don’t want to hear your voice for five seconds, okay?” He ruts. His mind is gone. He can’t -
And then Sean is fucking talking again.
“I’m not jealous.” He’s whispering but Alex can hear every goddamn word even though maybe Sean’s talking to himself. “I know you need me.”
With a surge of anger, Alex pushes him closer to the ground. He wants to rub Sean’s face in the dirt but it would take too much concentration, and as it is Alex is full to the brim with heat and hard as a rock and Sean’s open and inviting right in front of him.
Alex won’t ever admit to Sean what he does to him, the effect his body has on him, how pleasure and pain and snarled words are all entwined now and they’ll never come apart again no matter what Alex does. But he’ll pull him close to his chest and push in slow and brutal with just spit and sweat and precome. He’ll fuck Sean the way he likes it, slow and slow and fast fast fast, and pull little whines out of his throat and make him strip his cock desperately. He’ll watch and wonder at the way sweat drips to the tips of his curls and the way he throws his head back and bares his throat as he comes, as he feels Alex come.
He holds Sean afterwards, just for a minute, before he pulls out. They breathe slow and in tandem, just for a minute, before they roll away from each other and pretend to be separate again.