I Wanna Do Bad Things With You
Title: I Wanna Do Bad Things With You
'Verse: Bad Things
Fandom: X-Men: First Class, Shame
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Charles/Erik, Charles/Logan; past Erik/Magda, Alex/Erik, Erik/Raven
Summary: Anticipationwantneedlust. It's not something he can control.
Warnings: dubious consent, frottage in a pulbic place, infidelity, copious amounts of the word 'fuck'
Author's Note: Written for the prompt here It has since grown a pair of legs and run very far away. Based in this Shame clip. Title taken from Bad Things as covered by The Black Rebel Motorcycle Club.
He spots the not really a man, not really a boy on one of the subway benches. All floppy, brown hair and baby blue eyes and school satchel. Erik almost chuckles. A uni boy. He wonders what he's studying, but then decides it doesn't matter.
The boy stands up from his seat and walks to the pole to hold on to it.
Erik looks him up and down. Nice figure. Pretty, really pretty, like how a sunset is pretty. Thin, too. Thin in the way poor grad students are. He’s also short. Shorter than Erik first thought. But again, this doesn’t really matter. It’s all the better to-
The subway slows and Erik stands. He stops just short of the boy, looming over him. He places a hand just above the boy’s on the pole, and if Erik was paying attention to anything that wasn’t the thrum of anticipationwantneedlust that flung itself through his veins, he would have noticed the boy shiver and grip at the pole tighter.
The cart pulled to a stop and Erik stood still for a split second, watching the boy run out the door. He licks his bottom lip and follows him, pushing and knocking into those in his way.
Now he’s in the main floor of the subway, and there isn’t any sign of the brown haired student anywhere.
“Fuck.” He mutters and begins his slow walk to the bathroom.
And much to his surprise, or maybe he knew it all along, the boy was there, splashing water onto his face.
Erik smirks and walks up to the sink next to the boy. He turns on the faucet and looks over to the side.
“Satchel? You in school or something?”
He looks to Erik in the mirror. “Hmm?”
“Your bag.” Erik nods to it. “Are you in school?”
The boy wets his lips and smiles. “Yeah. NYU. Studying biology and chemistry. You?”
Erik laughs. “No, I haven’t been since the ‘90s.”
The boy dries his hands on his pant leg then reaches a hand out.
“Charles Xavier.”
Erik takes the hand offered.
“Erik.” A smirk plays across his face. “So why are you out here alone? No special girl?”
Charles flushes. “Uhh,” He bites his lip. “I um. I’m-it’s just that. No.” He shakes his head. “No.”
Erik cocks an eyebrow. “A boy toy, then?”
Charles’ flush deepens. “I umm, I don’t think I want to have this conversation with you, uh, Erik, was it?”
“It is. And I think-”
Charles gathers up his satchel from the floor. “Look, Erik, you seem like a nice enough guy, okay? But I don’t care what you think. I’m going t-”
Erik doesn’t let him finish his sentence, he presses a finger to his mouth.
“I think you will care.” And he tilts his head down some, so his breath ghosts over Charles’ mouth. “I’m definitely sure you will.”
Charles blinks several times and wets his lips.
“I uh umm, I-”
And he can’t finish his sentence, not when Erik’s mouth is pressing into his, not when he’s gasping from the contact, and definitely not when he’s grabbing at Erik’s arms and isn’t sure if it’s to pull him closer or to push him away.
Erik slides his tongue into Charles’ mouth and Charles moans, hands tightening their grip. Erik pulls away slowly, teeth dragging across a pulp bottom lip. Charles lets his hands fall down loosely.
“So are you gonna listen to me now?” And there’s a smirk on Erik’s face again.
“Oh fuck.” Charles drops his bag and runs a hand over his face and looks to the ceiling. Takes a step or several back. “Bloody fuck.”
“That’s not the answer I’m looking for.”
Charles glares at Erik, all piercing and anger.
“Fuck you.” He crosses his arms over his chest.
“That can be arranged.”
And just like that, Erik is standing over him, hands on Charles’ arms and pulling them loose. One hand trailing from arm to jaw, holding it, tilting it up just enough to claim his mouth again.
Erik’s other hand slides its’ way down Charles’ chest and down to the waistband of his jeans. His fingers dip in and Charles’ hands find there way to Erik’s shirt, again not quiet sure if it’s to keep Erik right where you are or if it’s to push him back, maybe against the sink you bloody bastard.
Erik pulls back from Charles but only enough so that he can kiss his way from his jaw to his neck. Charles’ breath hitches and his hips jerk forward. He lets out a shuddery ‘fuck’.
Erik bites down and across Charles’ neck and walks them towards the wall. And when Charles back hits the cold of the plaster he gasps. Erik sucks down on the point just below Charles’ jaw and rolls his hips. Charles moans low and long at that.
“You gonna suck my cock?” Erik whispers hot in his ear.
Charles doesn’t say anything, couldn’t if he wanted to. He just makes a whining sound and pushes his hips up to Erik’s harder.
“That’s right.” Erik pulls him closer. “C’mon.”
Charles makes a keening sounds and pushes his mouth to Erik’s for an open mouthed barely even there kiss.
“Fuck, I’m gonna-” And his body stilled, arched up into Erik’s. And Erik laughs, face tucked into the crook of Charles’ neck and rolls his hips a few more times and comes with a low groan.
He licks his lips and pulls his face to Charles’ for one last kiss before he pulls completely away and takes a step back. He takes in the view of Charles, red cheeked and messy haired and eyes closed tight, with a satisfied smile.
Charles opens his eyes slowly, shifting uncomfortably against the wall. At the feel of his pants wet against him, he groans. And it hits him, what he just did. I-oh holy mother of-I just-and with a complete stranger-
“Oh fuck. Shite shite, bloody fucking-why? Why the bloody- did you do that?” Charles is shaking, glaring daggers and isn’t sure at whom his question is directed at. “I have a-fuck-a boyfriend, you bastard. And now I can’t-fuck. Logan’s going to kill me.” He searching around the bathroom for his satchel; it’s the only thing he can do to not punch Erik. “I hope you’re fucking happy, arsehole.” And slams the door behind him.
Erik laughs, and goes about cleaning himself up with a smirk on his face.
Next Bits: two, three, four, five
'Verse: Bad Things
Fandom: X-Men: First Class, Shame
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Charles/Erik, Charles/Logan; past Erik/Magda, Alex/Erik, Erik/Raven
Summary: Anticipationwantneedlust. It's not something he can control.
Warnings: dubious consent, frottage in a pulbic place, infidelity, copious amounts of the word 'fuck'
Author's Note: Written for the prompt here It has since grown a pair of legs and run very far away. Based in this Shame clip. Title taken from Bad Things as covered by The Black Rebel Motorcycle Club.
He spots the not really a man, not really a boy on one of the subway benches. All floppy, brown hair and baby blue eyes and school satchel. Erik almost chuckles. A uni boy. He wonders what he's studying, but then decides it doesn't matter.
The boy stands up from his seat and walks to the pole to hold on to it.
Erik looks him up and down. Nice figure. Pretty, really pretty, like how a sunset is pretty. Thin, too. Thin in the way poor grad students are. He’s also short. Shorter than Erik first thought. But again, this doesn’t really matter. It’s all the better to-
The subway slows and Erik stands. He stops just short of the boy, looming over him. He places a hand just above the boy’s on the pole, and if Erik was paying attention to anything that wasn’t the thrum of anticipationwantneedlust that flung itself through his veins, he would have noticed the boy shiver and grip at the pole tighter.
The cart pulled to a stop and Erik stood still for a split second, watching the boy run out the door. He licks his bottom lip and follows him, pushing and knocking into those in his way.
Now he’s in the main floor of the subway, and there isn’t any sign of the brown haired student anywhere.
“Fuck.” He mutters and begins his slow walk to the bathroom.
And much to his surprise, or maybe he knew it all along, the boy was there, splashing water onto his face.
Erik smirks and walks up to the sink next to the boy. He turns on the faucet and looks over to the side.
“Satchel? You in school or something?”
He looks to Erik in the mirror. “Hmm?”
“Your bag.” Erik nods to it. “Are you in school?”
The boy wets his lips and smiles. “Yeah. NYU. Studying biology and chemistry. You?”
Erik laughs. “No, I haven’t been since the ‘90s.”
The boy dries his hands on his pant leg then reaches a hand out.
“Charles Xavier.”
Erik takes the hand offered.
“Erik.” A smirk plays across his face. “So why are you out here alone? No special girl?”
Charles flushes. “Uhh,” He bites his lip. “I um. I’m-it’s just that. No.” He shakes his head. “No.”
Erik cocks an eyebrow. “A boy toy, then?”
Charles’ flush deepens. “I umm, I don’t think I want to have this conversation with you, uh, Erik, was it?”
“It is. And I think-”
Charles gathers up his satchel from the floor. “Look, Erik, you seem like a nice enough guy, okay? But I don’t care what you think. I’m going t-”
Erik doesn’t let him finish his sentence, he presses a finger to his mouth.
“I think you will care.” And he tilts his head down some, so his breath ghosts over Charles’ mouth. “I’m definitely sure you will.”
Charles blinks several times and wets his lips.
“I uh umm, I-”
And he can’t finish his sentence, not when Erik’s mouth is pressing into his, not when he’s gasping from the contact, and definitely not when he’s grabbing at Erik’s arms and isn’t sure if it’s to pull him closer or to push him away.
Erik slides his tongue into Charles’ mouth and Charles moans, hands tightening their grip. Erik pulls away slowly, teeth dragging across a pulp bottom lip. Charles lets his hands fall down loosely.
“So are you gonna listen to me now?” And there’s a smirk on Erik’s face again.
“Oh fuck.” Charles drops his bag and runs a hand over his face and looks to the ceiling. Takes a step or several back. “Bloody fuck.”
“That’s not the answer I’m looking for.”
Charles glares at Erik, all piercing and anger.
“Fuck you.” He crosses his arms over his chest.
“That can be arranged.”
And just like that, Erik is standing over him, hands on Charles’ arms and pulling them loose. One hand trailing from arm to jaw, holding it, tilting it up just enough to claim his mouth again.
Erik’s other hand slides its’ way down Charles’ chest and down to the waistband of his jeans. His fingers dip in and Charles’ hands find there way to Erik’s shirt, again not quiet sure if it’s to keep Erik right where you are or if it’s to push him back, maybe against the sink you bloody bastard.
Erik pulls back from Charles but only enough so that he can kiss his way from his jaw to his neck. Charles’ breath hitches and his hips jerk forward. He lets out a shuddery ‘fuck’.
Erik bites down and across Charles’ neck and walks them towards the wall. And when Charles back hits the cold of the plaster he gasps. Erik sucks down on the point just below Charles’ jaw and rolls his hips. Charles moans low and long at that.
“You gonna suck my cock?” Erik whispers hot in his ear.
Charles doesn’t say anything, couldn’t if he wanted to. He just makes a whining sound and pushes his hips up to Erik’s harder.
“That’s right.” Erik pulls him closer. “C’mon.”
Charles makes a keening sounds and pushes his mouth to Erik’s for an open mouthed barely even there kiss.
“Fuck, I’m gonna-” And his body stilled, arched up into Erik’s. And Erik laughs, face tucked into the crook of Charles’ neck and rolls his hips a few more times and comes with a low groan.
He licks his lips and pulls his face to Charles’ for one last kiss before he pulls completely away and takes a step back. He takes in the view of Charles, red cheeked and messy haired and eyes closed tight, with a satisfied smile.
Charles opens his eyes slowly, shifting uncomfortably against the wall. At the feel of his pants wet against him, he groans. And it hits him, what he just did. I-oh holy mother of-I just-and with a complete stranger-
“Oh fuck. Shite shite, bloody fucking-why? Why the bloody- did you do that?” Charles is shaking, glaring daggers and isn’t sure at whom his question is directed at. “I have a-fuck-a boyfriend, you bastard. And now I can’t-fuck. Logan’s going to kill me.” He searching around the bathroom for his satchel; it’s the only thing he can do to not punch Erik. “I hope you’re fucking happy, arsehole.” And slams the door behind him.
Erik laughs, and goes about cleaning himself up with a smirk on his face.
Next Bits: two, three, four, five