Fic: fall into the quicksand
Title: fall into the quicksand
Series: Brown Derby Jump
Summary: Charles always thinks of everything.
Fandom: X-Men: First Class
Word Count: 1519
Rating/Contents: NC-17, historical AU, does anyone know of a polite way to say sloppy seconds? Because I have been wracking my brain on this one.
Pairing: Erik/Raven, Charles/Raven
Policies: Read my archiving, feedback, and warnings policies here.
A/N: Okay so maybe this will actually end up series-ing; there are two bits, anyway. For Porn Battle, prompt "bend" (which I mostly ignored).
Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4
It's been four numbers, and Raven is feeling just fine. She and Charles are at the bar while the band takes a break, looking out at the crowd- it's a good one tonight, big and happy, no one looking for a fight.
"Right," Charles says, rubbing his hands together. "I think it's about that time, don't you?"
"I won't say no," Raven tells him, coyly.
"I'm going to refrain from commenting," Charles says, and she socks him in the arm. He crosses his arms and raises his fingers to his temple, scanning the room; he probably thinks he's being very subtle, but mostly it makes him look really goofy.
After a moment, Charles snaps his fingers. "There, that one," he says, pointing to the corner of the room. "The dark-haired one. You see him?"
Raven looks over; the man has his back turned, and she can't see much of him at all, other than that he's tall and slender. He's talking to a short redheaded woman who seems to be laughing way too much. "I see."
"Go over and ask him to dance," Charles says into her ear. "He won't say no."
She turns, and their faces are quite close together, close enough to kiss. "Would he have said no five minutes ago?"
"He already saw you," Charles says innocently. "I just nudged him a little, honest."
She grins at him, pecking him on the lips before pushing away from the bar. The music picks up again as she makes her way over, and she moves easily through the couples filling the dance floor. Someone comes to take the redhead away, and the man turns just as she approaches him.
He takes her in, and his gaze is cool and predatory; he looks at her openly, his eyes flicking up and down her body, but it's more like someone looking at a nice car than a beautiful woman.
There's only one of those categories Raven would like to qualify for.
"Hello," he says, and it comes with a smirk; he already looks smug, but it's a good look on him.
"Hi there," she says, smiling her most charming smile- which is so much like something Charles would do that it's kind of hilarious. "I'm Raven."
"Erik," he says, giving her a slight bow. "This is where I'm supposed to say something like, 'Do you come here often?'," he says dryly.
"If it's the same to you, we can skip it," she says, grinning; Charles has picked a good one this time. "Let's just dance."
He takes her hand and leads her to the dance floor. His hands are big and callused- gun calluses, her brain fills in, but she doesn't know if it's her or Charles- but it doesn't matter much, because the band is playing hot, and dancing is so much more important.
He's good at it, better than she expected, not that Charles would pick anyone who would step on her feet. It's not just that he's good; they're compatible. They're not second-guessing each other, fighting each other for it. He's leading, and she's following, and it all seems to be second-nature already.
The floor has cleared a little, and Erik looks around them. "Can I flip you?"
"I don't know," she says. "Can you?"
He grins. "Stand still and we'll find out."
It's terrifying for a moment, because he's so much taller than Charles; but she bends her knees and he holds her waist and they manage it. "I thought you were going to drop me," she tells him afterwards, laughing.
"I thought you were going to kick me in the head," he admits, and when Raven looks over, Charles is grinning.
The night is winding down, but Raven isn't; she's feeling keyed up, and the drink Erik buys her doesn't make much of a difference. They're sitting together at a table, and she leans towards him, putting her hand over his. "They say you dance like you make love."
"I just threw you over my arm in front of a room full of people," Erik points out, raising an eyebrow at her, and Raven rolls her eyes. "But I know what you mean." He turns his hand over, taking hers and pulling her closer by it. "Is your-" he inclines his head towards Charles, who's chatting up some girl- "going to be upset?"
"Just a friend," she tells him. "And he won't even notice," she adds, even as she's mentally checking in, their minds brushing together, his amused goodbye-and-good-luck ringing in her mind.
"Good," he says, and they're leaving, just like that.
His apartment is small, Spartan, but it's incredibly hard to care about that when he's kissing her from the first moment they come through the door. He pushes her up against it and spends a long time doing it, kissing her hard, kissing her until she can't breathe, until her heart feels like it's going to beat out of her chest.
He finally lets her up, pulling her towards the bed. There's just so much clothing, but thank god, now they're naked. He pushes her down onto the bed, crawling up her body, stopping to lick and suck at her nipples, and she gasps underneath him.
Then he's braced above her, and she's spreading her legs for him, and he pushes inside of her, and all at once she realizes that it's only been hours since Charles was there. She doesn't know if he can tell, if he can feel it- god, she didn't even shower, what if she smells like it, like cologne and sex, like Charles.
Her face goes red and her breath catches in her throat, and for a terrible, terrifying moment, she's afraid he's going to yell or kick her out or do something even worse.
But then he groans, like it's good, like it's better. "Your 'friend'?" he asks, looking at her with hooded eyes.
Charles, you clever bastard, how do you always think of everything? she thinks to herself. "Yeah."
He snaps his hips forward, making her cry out. "I see."
He fucks her so hard, so good; his cock is big and he knows what he's doing with it. He's in her so deep she thinks she can feel it in her throat, and he's not stopping. He just keeps on going, thrusting into her over and over again, making her moan and sweat.
"Was it like this," he asks, breathing heavily, "with your friend?" She manages to shake her head; it's hot and threatening at the same time, and she didn't know how intoxicating that could be. "Is it better with me?" He pulls her legs up, dragging her into his lap, almost bending her double, and he starts moving faster, fucking her harder. "You're not answering my question," he chides her.
"You're making it really hard to think about him," she says honestly.
Erik laughs. "That's a yes."
He's moving faster now, and she's so overwhelmed by it that she can't help but come, can't stop coming, can't remember how to do anything else. She thinks it's done and it rolls over her again; he's still moving inside of her, and she only sort of registers it when he comes, growling.
And then it's over, and she's lying there, her head on his arm, still trembling a little, and Erik is, of all the cliched things to be doing, smoking a cigarette. In another situation she'd roll her eyes, but in this case she just reaches for the case and asks for a light.
They talk for a while; she's pretty sure Erik would let her stay if she wanted, but that's not the plan. She dresses and Erik calls her a taxi; when she leans down and gives him a goodbye kiss, he catches her by the wrist before she can get away. "I will see you again," he says.
She smiles. "Of course you will," she tells him, because she'd been willing to see him again even before she knew what a very good fuck he was.
It's actually uncomfortable to sit in the taxi, and Raven really wants to laugh out loud about that. As soon as she gets into the apartment she lets her natural form flicker over her, getting rid of all those clothes.
Charles's door is open and his light is off- the coast is clear- so she goes in, slipping into his bed. He rouses, turning towards her and putting an arm around her waist. "Have fun with Erik, my love?"
"Jesus Christ," she pants. "He wore me out."
"Mmm, I'll make sure and get a look in the morning," Charles says. "But not now. A pretty little thing named Angela ran me ragged."
She snorts. "We're awful."
"You grew up with me as a role model," he points out. "What else did you expect?"
She smiles, cuddling in closer to him. "Shut up and go to sleep."
This entry was automagically crossposted from http://sabinetzin.dreamwidth.org/383553.html.
comments over there.
Series: Brown Derby Jump
Summary: Charles always thinks of everything.
Fandom: X-Men: First Class
Word Count: 1519
Rating/Contents: NC-17, historical AU, does anyone know of a polite way to say sloppy seconds? Because I have been wracking my brain on this one.
Pairing: Erik/Raven, Charles/Raven
Policies: Read my archiving, feedback, and warnings policies here.
A/N: Okay so maybe this will actually end up series-ing; there are two bits, anyway. For Porn Battle, prompt "bend" (which I mostly ignored).
Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4
It's been four numbers, and Raven is feeling just fine. She and Charles are at the bar while the band takes a break, looking out at the crowd- it's a good one tonight, big and happy, no one looking for a fight.
"Right," Charles says, rubbing his hands together. "I think it's about that time, don't you?"
"I won't say no," Raven tells him, coyly.
"I'm going to refrain from commenting," Charles says, and she socks him in the arm. He crosses his arms and raises his fingers to his temple, scanning the room; he probably thinks he's being very subtle, but mostly it makes him look really goofy.
After a moment, Charles snaps his fingers. "There, that one," he says, pointing to the corner of the room. "The dark-haired one. You see him?"
Raven looks over; the man has his back turned, and she can't see much of him at all, other than that he's tall and slender. He's talking to a short redheaded woman who seems to be laughing way too much. "I see."
"Go over and ask him to dance," Charles says into her ear. "He won't say no."
She turns, and their faces are quite close together, close enough to kiss. "Would he have said no five minutes ago?"
"He already saw you," Charles says innocently. "I just nudged him a little, honest."
She grins at him, pecking him on the lips before pushing away from the bar. The music picks up again as she makes her way over, and she moves easily through the couples filling the dance floor. Someone comes to take the redhead away, and the man turns just as she approaches him.
He takes her in, and his gaze is cool and predatory; he looks at her openly, his eyes flicking up and down her body, but it's more like someone looking at a nice car than a beautiful woman.
There's only one of those categories Raven would like to qualify for.
"Hello," he says, and it comes with a smirk; he already looks smug, but it's a good look on him.
"Hi there," she says, smiling her most charming smile- which is so much like something Charles would do that it's kind of hilarious. "I'm Raven."
"Erik," he says, giving her a slight bow. "This is where I'm supposed to say something like, 'Do you come here often?'," he says dryly.
"If it's the same to you, we can skip it," she says, grinning; Charles has picked a good one this time. "Let's just dance."
He takes her hand and leads her to the dance floor. His hands are big and callused- gun calluses, her brain fills in, but she doesn't know if it's her or Charles- but it doesn't matter much, because the band is playing hot, and dancing is so much more important.
He's good at it, better than she expected, not that Charles would pick anyone who would step on her feet. It's not just that he's good; they're compatible. They're not second-guessing each other, fighting each other for it. He's leading, and she's following, and it all seems to be second-nature already.
The floor has cleared a little, and Erik looks around them. "Can I flip you?"
"I don't know," she says. "Can you?"
He grins. "Stand still and we'll find out."
It's terrifying for a moment, because he's so much taller than Charles; but she bends her knees and he holds her waist and they manage it. "I thought you were going to drop me," she tells him afterwards, laughing.
"I thought you were going to kick me in the head," he admits, and when Raven looks over, Charles is grinning.
The night is winding down, but Raven isn't; she's feeling keyed up, and the drink Erik buys her doesn't make much of a difference. They're sitting together at a table, and she leans towards him, putting her hand over his. "They say you dance like you make love."
"I just threw you over my arm in front of a room full of people," Erik points out, raising an eyebrow at her, and Raven rolls her eyes. "But I know what you mean." He turns his hand over, taking hers and pulling her closer by it. "Is your-" he inclines his head towards Charles, who's chatting up some girl- "going to be upset?"
"Just a friend," she tells him. "And he won't even notice," she adds, even as she's mentally checking in, their minds brushing together, his amused goodbye-and-good-luck ringing in her mind.
"Good," he says, and they're leaving, just like that.
His apartment is small, Spartan, but it's incredibly hard to care about that when he's kissing her from the first moment they come through the door. He pushes her up against it and spends a long time doing it, kissing her hard, kissing her until she can't breathe, until her heart feels like it's going to beat out of her chest.
He finally lets her up, pulling her towards the bed. There's just so much clothing, but thank god, now they're naked. He pushes her down onto the bed, crawling up her body, stopping to lick and suck at her nipples, and she gasps underneath him.
Then he's braced above her, and she's spreading her legs for him, and he pushes inside of her, and all at once she realizes that it's only been hours since Charles was there. She doesn't know if he can tell, if he can feel it- god, she didn't even shower, what if she smells like it, like cologne and sex, like Charles.
Her face goes red and her breath catches in her throat, and for a terrible, terrifying moment, she's afraid he's going to yell or kick her out or do something even worse.
But then he groans, like it's good, like it's better. "Your 'friend'?" he asks, looking at her with hooded eyes.
Charles, you clever bastard, how do you always think of everything? she thinks to herself. "Yeah."
He snaps his hips forward, making her cry out. "I see."
He fucks her so hard, so good; his cock is big and he knows what he's doing with it. He's in her so deep she thinks she can feel it in her throat, and he's not stopping. He just keeps on going, thrusting into her over and over again, making her moan and sweat.
"Was it like this," he asks, breathing heavily, "with your friend?" She manages to shake her head; it's hot and threatening at the same time, and she didn't know how intoxicating that could be. "Is it better with me?" He pulls her legs up, dragging her into his lap, almost bending her double, and he starts moving faster, fucking her harder. "You're not answering my question," he chides her.
"You're making it really hard to think about him," she says honestly.
Erik laughs. "That's a yes."
He's moving faster now, and she's so overwhelmed by it that she can't help but come, can't stop coming, can't remember how to do anything else. She thinks it's done and it rolls over her again; he's still moving inside of her, and she only sort of registers it when he comes, growling.
And then it's over, and she's lying there, her head on his arm, still trembling a little, and Erik is, of all the cliched things to be doing, smoking a cigarette. In another situation she'd roll her eyes, but in this case she just reaches for the case and asks for a light.
They talk for a while; she's pretty sure Erik would let her stay if she wanted, but that's not the plan. She dresses and Erik calls her a taxi; when she leans down and gives him a goodbye kiss, he catches her by the wrist before she can get away. "I will see you again," he says.
She smiles. "Of course you will," she tells him, because she'd been willing to see him again even before she knew what a very good fuck he was.
It's actually uncomfortable to sit in the taxi, and Raven really wants to laugh out loud about that. As soon as she gets into the apartment she lets her natural form flicker over her, getting rid of all those clothes.
Charles's door is open and his light is off- the coast is clear- so she goes in, slipping into his bed. He rouses, turning towards her and putting an arm around her waist. "Have fun with Erik, my love?"
"Jesus Christ," she pants. "He wore me out."
"Mmm, I'll make sure and get a look in the morning," Charles says. "But not now. A pretty little thing named Angela ran me ragged."
She snorts. "We're awful."
"You grew up with me as a role model," he points out. "What else did you expect?"
She smiles, cuddling in closer to him. "Shut up and go to sleep."
This entry was automagically crossposted from http://sabinetzin.dreamwidth.org/383553.html.
comments over there.