FIC: Backbeat - 1/1, XMFC, PG, Hank/Alex
Title: Backbeat
Author: Jo (jo@fadedink.com)
Fandom: X-Men: First Class
Pairing: Hank McCoy/Alex Summers
Rating: PG
Word count: 689
Summary: Alex has a fondness for loud music and Hank does not.
Disclaimer: Fiction, folks. But if you believe this really happened, I've got some prime real estate I wanna sell you…
Author's Notes: The 30th Day of Christmas for bartonsquiver because he deserves it and I adore him. :D
The third time Hank growls and mutters under his breath, Charles looks up from his book. It takes a few seconds for the loud, pounding music to register. When it does, he simply lifts his eyes to look at the ceiling before focusing back on Hank.
"You know he only does it because it bothers you."
Hank grunts and buries his nose deeper into his book. Charles just smiles.
***
Three in the morning and the music starts again, pounding through the wall between their bedrooms. Hank bolts upright, eyes wide as his sleep-addled brain tries to figure out if they're under attack.
But no, it's just Alex's music.
Growling, Hank slams his fist into the wall. A framed picture jumps, tilts, almost falls, but just manages to stay in place. The only response is a cackle of high-pitched laughter.
Snarling words that are far better suited to Magneto's tutelage than to the Professor's, Hank flops back to the mattress and yanks his pillow over his head. Then grabs a second one as a precaution.
***
Five nights of interrupted sleep make Hank surlier than usual. He more than earns the Beast nickname that Alex insists on calling him and scares Moira badly enough one afternoon that her hands still tremble at dinner that evening.
It's not something of which he's proud.
But when Sean asks if he needs something to relax, Hank just looks at him. Then the music starts again. Without a word, Hank turns and stalks out of the mansion.
He doesn't return until the wee hours of the morning.
***
A week passes in silence. Hank starts to relax when Alex returns from wherever he's been.
The music starts up again that night and it's the final straw.
Steadily growling deep in his throat, Hank rips open his door, stomps the ten feet down the hall to Alex's door, and slams it open so hard that it rebounds off the wall and leaves a dent in the plaster. Alex, seated in the middle of the bed, stares at him with eyes so wide that they're in danger of popping out of his skull.
Still growling, Hank snatches the record from the turntable, yanks up the window, and sends the vinyl disk flying into the night air. It sails better than a Frisbee and is almost enough to calm him.
But Alex is grinning at him when he turns from the window. Hank wants to claw that grin from his face.
Instead, he goes back to his room and collapses into his pillows.
***
Alex watches him over breakfast with a little smile lurking around the edges of his mouth. Nothing is said about the missing album.
Hank ignores him as much as he can, hunching over his cereal bowl and looking at no one in particular.
Charles watches them both with a faintly perplexed look.
***
"That was my favorite album."
Hank looks up and growls at the sight of Alex lounging in his doorway. Alex, true to form, strolls into the room and drops onto the bed. He bounces once before stretching out with his hands behind his head.
"You owe me."
"You're lucky I didn't launch you out the window."
"Ooh." Alex fake shivers and grins as he props himself up his elbows. "Took you long enough."
Hank stares at him, eyes narrowed, and tries to work out what Alex means. Alex just rolls his eyes.
"You really are that clueless."
"What -"
"Hank, next time someone's doing something to wake you up in the middle of the night, maybe you should check it out." Bouncing off the bed, Alex heads for the door. He pauses there and looks over his shoulder. "You might be surprised to find out why they're doing it."
For several long minutes, Hank looks from the door to the bed and back. Alex is long out of sight.
And when it hits Hank, he bolts out of his chair and down the hallway.
***
Two weeks later, Charles looks at the ceiling and realizes he hasn't heard Alex's loud music in days. When he mentions it, Hank says nothing, but his smug look speaks volumes.
Author: Jo (jo@fadedink.com)
Fandom: X-Men: First Class
Pairing: Hank McCoy/Alex Summers
Rating: PG
Word count: 689
Summary: Alex has a fondness for loud music and Hank does not.
Disclaimer: Fiction, folks. But if you believe this really happened, I've got some prime real estate I wanna sell you…
Author's Notes: The 30th Day of Christmas for bartonsquiver because he deserves it and I adore him. :D
The third time Hank growls and mutters under his breath, Charles looks up from his book. It takes a few seconds for the loud, pounding music to register. When it does, he simply lifts his eyes to look at the ceiling before focusing back on Hank.
"You know he only does it because it bothers you."
Hank grunts and buries his nose deeper into his book. Charles just smiles.
***
Three in the morning and the music starts again, pounding through the wall between their bedrooms. Hank bolts upright, eyes wide as his sleep-addled brain tries to figure out if they're under attack.
But no, it's just Alex's music.
Growling, Hank slams his fist into the wall. A framed picture jumps, tilts, almost falls, but just manages to stay in place. The only response is a cackle of high-pitched laughter.
Snarling words that are far better suited to Magneto's tutelage than to the Professor's, Hank flops back to the mattress and yanks his pillow over his head. Then grabs a second one as a precaution.
***
Five nights of interrupted sleep make Hank surlier than usual. He more than earns the Beast nickname that Alex insists on calling him and scares Moira badly enough one afternoon that her hands still tremble at dinner that evening.
It's not something of which he's proud.
But when Sean asks if he needs something to relax, Hank just looks at him. Then the music starts again. Without a word, Hank turns and stalks out of the mansion.
He doesn't return until the wee hours of the morning.
***
A week passes in silence. Hank starts to relax when Alex returns from wherever he's been.
The music starts up again that night and it's the final straw.
Steadily growling deep in his throat, Hank rips open his door, stomps the ten feet down the hall to Alex's door, and slams it open so hard that it rebounds off the wall and leaves a dent in the plaster. Alex, seated in the middle of the bed, stares at him with eyes so wide that they're in danger of popping out of his skull.
Still growling, Hank snatches the record from the turntable, yanks up the window, and sends the vinyl disk flying into the night air. It sails better than a Frisbee and is almost enough to calm him.
But Alex is grinning at him when he turns from the window. Hank wants to claw that grin from his face.
Instead, he goes back to his room and collapses into his pillows.
***
Alex watches him over breakfast with a little smile lurking around the edges of his mouth. Nothing is said about the missing album.
Hank ignores him as much as he can, hunching over his cereal bowl and looking at no one in particular.
Charles watches them both with a faintly perplexed look.
***
"That was my favorite album."
Hank looks up and growls at the sight of Alex lounging in his doorway. Alex, true to form, strolls into the room and drops onto the bed. He bounces once before stretching out with his hands behind his head.
"You owe me."
"You're lucky I didn't launch you out the window."
"Ooh." Alex fake shivers and grins as he props himself up his elbows. "Took you long enough."
Hank stares at him, eyes narrowed, and tries to work out what Alex means. Alex just rolls his eyes.
"You really are that clueless."
"What -"
"Hank, next time someone's doing something to wake you up in the middle of the night, maybe you should check it out." Bouncing off the bed, Alex heads for the door. He pauses there and looks over his shoulder. "You might be surprised to find out why they're doing it."
For several long minutes, Hank looks from the door to the bed and back. Alex is long out of sight.
And when it hits Hank, he bolts out of his chair and down the hallway.
***
Two weeks later, Charles looks at the ceiling and realizes he hasn't heard Alex's loud music in days. When he mentions it, Hank says nothing, but his smug look speaks volumes.