fanficition cove

Originally written/posted: June 2011
Fandom: X-Men First Class
Pairing: Hank/Alex
Rating: T
Word Count: 4500 words
Notes: I’ll let y’all guess as to whether or not I’ve read this one over or not.

The first time he fell in love with someone, Hank was six. He was a bright eyed kid with the potential that almost everyone craved. Her name was Mallory, and she was as lovely as she was pretty, and even if he didn’t really know what that word meant, he knew that it was what she was. She was his best friend, they lived next door to each other and they played cheetahs and tigers until their parents called them in for supper. Sometimes, Hank would stay out a few minutes later, just to be a rebel.

Two months after they met, they had their first sleepover together.

“Mallory!” He squealed excitedly, “I get to spend the night over your house!”

She grinned as wide as she could and nodded. “I know!”

Her room was bright pink with purple butterflies hanging on the wall, and even if he wasn’t supposed to like those colors, he somehow did, because Mallory liked them. He wanted to please her, and he swore to himself that one day he would marry her. He wanted her to smile, and to laugh, and he wanted to hold her when she was hurt. And because of that, he knew that he loved her.

When he told his mother this, she told him that he didn’t know what love was, but he knew this was because she had never experienced it with his father herself. He knew what love was. Love was the most complicated simple thing of them all, and he was a genius; if anyone could crack that particular code, it was him.

The whole time he was there, he made sure to keep his sneakers on, because he knew that if she saw his feet, she’d probably never talked to him again. He didn’t want that, because she was his only friend. What they had was special; he didn’t want to lose it.

The inevitable happened when it was time to go to sleep, and he was nervous, so, so nervous. He went into the bathroom to strip off his shoes, and to put on some socks.

When he came out, in his pajamas, Transformers, thanks, she looked at him and giggled.

“Hank! You can’t sleep with socks on,” she said.

He looked up at her, startled. He could most certainly sleep with socks on. Right? “Why not?”

She shrugged. “Momma says it’s dangerous,” she replied.

He pouted like a petulant child. “Oh, alright.”

The tests said that he was smart, that he was possibly the smartest six year old that they’ve ever encountered and he was invincible, or so they said. He could handle something as small as this. He could be the bigger man and find a way out of showing Mallory his feet.

No one would love Hank when they saw his feet, because they were huge, and monkey like, and they were ugly. People weren’t infatuated by ugly, his father had told him. They were infatuated by beauty, and Mallory was the most beautiful of them all.

“Take them off, silly!” She squealed with delight.

He bit his lip. “Alright,” he repeated.

Once they were off, he tried to shut the light out as quickly as he could, but there was still a scream that fell from Mallory’s lips. He didn’t have to turn around to know that she had seen.

“What’s wrong with you feet?” She asked, and her voice was a low whisper. When he finally had turned around, she was cowering against the wall, her pillow held to her chest. She looked scared, like she had just seen a monster. He was a monster, he thought, a monster with big feet and horrible eye sight, and too much intelligence.

He knew then that she would never love him back.

“I don’t know,” he replied. “Momma says it’s a mutation.”

“I don’t want you here no more,” she said.

He tried to be strong, because Daddy had told him that weak men didn’t get any love either, but he felt the tears well up in his eyes, and he didn’t even try to stop them. “Mallory,” he said, “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“You’ve got weird feet, Hank McCoy. I can’t have you as a friend.”

He looked at her, and wanted to plead more, but he knew that she couldn’t. Mallory was as stubborn as she was sweet, but the latter only went so far. He pulled back on his socks and shoes, grabbed his bag, and told her mother that he wasn’t feeling well.

II.

When he was ten, his father and mother decide to move to Massachusetts because he was going to be attending a new school there in the fall. He was excited about the move, after spending years getting teased by his fellow classmates after Mallory accidentally spilled his secret three months after she discovered it for herself. He didn’t blame her, because he knew that a part of him still loved her, but it still was painful.

“It’ll be better here,” his mother told him.

“I know,” he said, even if he didn’t really believe her. She was a good mother, attentive, caring more for her son than herself, even though Hank had a sneaking suspicion that this was because of how smart he was, he accepted it, and she always had his best interest in heart.

“You don’t need them anyways. You’re a genius, my darling boy, all physical mutations and all.”

He hated it when she insisted that his mutation was a good thing, because it wasn’t. He had feet that were too big to be human, mirroring that of a gorilla’s, and his hands were large too. But he didn’t quite mind that, if he was honest with himself, which he rarely is.

::::::

When he arrived on campus on his first day, he was eleven and had a new confidence that he didn’t have before. He was excited at the possibility of making friends that understood how smart he was, that didn’t care about outward appearances so much, because they were smart too, and they knew that what was more important.

This was when he met Lucas, who was in his Biochemistry class, and was bright, and lovely, and way too intelligent. Of course, Hank was smarter than he was, because he was pretty much smarter than everyone, but he had the kind of intelligence that came with experience, not because he was gifted with it.

It was Lucas who took him under his wing and showed him around the campus, and helped him with his classes. He quickly became Hank’s hero. He supposed that he fell for him because he worshipped him, because he was perfect. Lucas was, in his eyes, an angel sent from heaven, he was the only boy that had ever taken a liking to him, and he was excited by the prospect.

Lucas taught him everything that he didn’t already know. It was Lucas who taught him that the difference in bow strong coffee was in the company and not just in the brew, he was the one who taught him that with great success came awful consequences, and he was the one who taught Hank that it was okay to have a little fun mixed in with academics. He taught him how to swim without holding his nose, and how to find books in the library that were too high up without getting the librarian.

It was Lucas who taught him how to first roll a joint, how good it felt to be high. Hank knew how horrible it was to be doing drugs when he wasn’t even twelve yet, but Lucas was the best person he’d ever met, and he knew that he wouldn’t do anything to Hank that wasn’t safe. Hank later found out that it was just cigarettes, but he likes to think that this was because Lucas cared about giving drugs to an eleven-year-old.

He was also the first one to break Hank’s heart.

It started on a normal November day, when Hank was walking to go meet Lucas so he could get coffee, being a student of Harvard quickly taught him to abuse the liquid by default, no matter how young he was. From where he stood, fifty feet away from him on the other side of the campus, he saw him kiss a girl. The kiss was long, and definitely not platonic, and his heart broke into pieces that he couldn’t even begin to control.

He skipped out on the meeting, and went to the library bathroom instead, where he cried, and cried, because Lucas always promised him to protect him, but today he had done the opposite.

::::::

III.

He graduated top of his class when he had just turned fifteen, and it made him feel like he was invincible, above everything. He wasn’t someone with a ego that was unbreakable, but in science, and in math, in intellect in general, he knew that he was the best.

The graduation was bittersweet; it was something that made him excited to know that he had done this at an age where most kids could barely keep their grades up in regular school. But it was depressing because this felt like the only place where he could feel comfortable.

After graduation, he went back to his parent’s house and sat with them as they watched the news. His mother pulled him close and told him she was proud of him, that he was the son that everyone wanted. His father stood off to the side, drinking a beer and sneering in disgust at how the world could accept someone like Hank, someone who was different and ugly and deformed. His father drank to deny that Hank was even his, and he wanted to hate his father for this, but he couldn’t.

He couldn’t exactly blame his father, because he knew that no one would ever love him in the way that a man should be loved by a spouse.

His mother would stroke his hair and tell him that his father was only jealous because he was a better man than him. He knew however, that his mother denied that even her seemingly perfect son had a problem. She was just as bad as his father, in more ways than one.

But he supposed that he loved her most out of anyone. She was the only one who hadn’t failed him yet.

::::::

The CIA offered him a job two days later, and Hank accepted. He did it mostly to get away from his father and his abusive words, but partly because he knew that he couldn’t rely on his mother for his happiness anymore.

His mother had cried when he told her that he was going to move to the CIA headquarters to conduct research. She let him go because she knew that this was what he wanted. But if Hank was honest with himself, it was probably also because she was tired of taking care of someone who wasn’t perfect.

The first day on the job, he met Ricky Evans, who was a research assistant six years his elder. He was bright, and lovely, and compassionate about helping people in the best way that he could. Hank instantly fell for him, not because he instantly took him under his wing in the way that Lucas had, but rather because he was the one who pushed him away.

He was the youngest researcher that the CIA had ever hired, and for this he was easily a target for doing all of the work that the elders didn’t want to do. He didn’t mind, he was just happy to be able to put his hands to work; to be accepted in the way that not even Harvard had accepted him.

Ricky had talked to him for the first time when he had been working there for a month.

“You’re that kid genius, aren’t you?” He had asked.

Hank nodded, a little in shock, and a whole lot in love. “Yes,” he said.

The most gorgeous grin that he had ever encountered tugged on his lips, then, and he knew that it would be something that he would never forget. “Cool. Do you mind doing this for me then?”

Hank had done it, because he wanted to please him more than he had ever wanted to please anybody, even Mallory.

Ricky and Hank would never talk again, because Ricky was fired for sexual harassment and leaking secrets. He would later assume that the reason he was drawn to him in the first place was because he had that air of danger that he would never be able to fully grasp, the sense of adventure that he would never have.

This was the only time that Hank wasn’t completely devastated.

IV.
When Hank is nineteen, he meets Charles Xavier.

“How wonderful! Another mutant already here, why didn’t you say?” He had exclaimed, and the excitement was clear in his eyes, down to the way that he had pranced over to Hank to shake his hand.

“Wha-?”

“Because you didn’t know,” he exhaled, and looked into his eyes again. They mirrored remorse and regret, and Hank immediately forgave him for releasing his secret, because he wasn’t one to hold grudges. “I am so, so terribly sorry.”

Hank shrugged, and looked around a little nervously. “It-”

“Hank? Why didn’t you say something?”

He tried to laugh, but it just came out as a breathless sigh. “You didn’t ask, so I didn’t tell.”

“You’re among friends now, Hank.” Charles had said.

Hank had never trusted someone so soon, but it he hadn’t felt more secure in a while, so he took off his shoes and socks, letting his feet be free for the first time all day. He would never admit it to anyone, but there was nothing like the feeling of his feet being unrestricted, it was like nothing he ever felt.

“Marvelous, just marvelous,” Charles grinned, eyeing his feet, and he would have felt the pat on the shoulder, had he not caught the eye of the pretty girl in the front. She had smiled at him, and it was the prettiest one he had ever seen; it gave him confidence to show them what he had been hiding for so long.

“Excuse me,” he looked at Charles, lined up with the pipe above his head, and executed all of his strength to catch it with his feet.

He didn’t hear anything until he saw Raven approaching him with an amazed, slightly amused smile on her face. “You’re amazing.”

He couldn’t stop the grin if he had wanted too. “Really?”

::::::

Hank found security and consistency in Raven that was much like the security and consistency that he found in science: he knew that she would never turn her back on him. The way that the equations that he memorized and easily solved would never change, he knew that his bond with her would be the same. They grew close faster than he ever really expected, and he fell for her even quicker.

She was amazing, and gorgeous. She was intelligent and had the same sense of humor that Lucas had, and the same sense of danger of Ricky. She was the steady balance in his life that reminded him that human interaction and conversation was vital for his overall mental stability.

He didn’t think he would be able to fall for someone in a mere couple of weeks, but somehow that is what had happened.

Like always, because Hank was as awkward as he was uncoordinated and mean because he never quite learned the difference, as he was pushed around by people too much. He didn’t have intent to be, but he was fond of facts and statistics, and he knew that she deserved the truth, not some lie on a rusty platter.

He broke her heart before she had the chance to break his.

“It behooves me to tell you this,” he paused, looking into her eyes, which were bright, and yellow; simply perfection. “But my feet, and your natural blue form, will never be deemed beautiful,” he said.

He saw the tears in her eyes, before her cheeks reached out to catch them, and he could sense her defeat and sadness coming off of her in waves. He looked at her, one last time, before taking the syr-

“No, Hank, don’t!”

After that, he was never the same.

One.
After successfully stopping a third world war, and saving Charles from the beach, Hank locks himself in his lab to reconstruct it again, make it newer and make it better. His new blue form is weird, and stable, and it feels more him than anything he’s ever felt before, but it’s a curse as much as it is a blessing.

He has this rage that he can never control now. He almost killed Erik – Magneto; he kind of almost (either ‘kind of’ or ‘almost’) regrets not doing so now, and he’s always angry, always hungry, and every sense is heightened, too close to becoming out of control.

He’s not the same kid that he was when he was completely human. He’s no longer able to control the anger that bubbled up inside of him when someone had insulted him or his intelligence. He has no control over anything that he once was so strict about. It scares him. He can easily hurt someone if he’s not careful.

Hank has always been introverted, keeping to himself, save the few people that he let in. It’s not something that is a reigning trait of his personality, but he knows that it’s better than most. So, he locks himself in his lab, because here, he can’t hurt anyone, here he is safe, and he is by himself. This is where he is most comfortable.

Its a few hours later when there’s a knock on his lab door, and he’s surprised, because he taped a sign that said ‘stay the fuck out, please’ — because he’s polite and shit.

“Who is it?” He asks tiredly.

“It’s, well um – it’s Alex,” the voice says.

Hank freezes at his desk. Alex is a mystery, and Hank wants to hate him, but he really can’t find it in him to do so. The only person he hates is himself because he never seems to do anything correctly. The only thing that he’s good at is mucking up his future.

The younger boy is someone that he has never encountered before. He’s special, and he’s nice when you peel back the layers of his self-defensive teasing. He’s incredibly smart, even if he doesn’t believe it himself.

Alex isn’t your normal guy or mutant, even. He’s introverted in the way that prison will teach someone to be, and he’s distrustful of people in the way that Hank wishes that he could have the strength to practice.

He is beautiful in the most unconventional way, with his sandy blonde hair, and eager eyes. He restrains himself from everything that might hurt him, and he’s scared of everything, but hides it behind a facade well.

There are so many fallacies behind Alex Summer alone, that it makes it almost impossible for Hank not to love him.

He supposes that he probably loved Alex as soon as he loved Raven too, but Raven was more accessible. She was nice to him, and she understood his tendency to hide behind something because it was more comfortable. Alex is someone who fights for what he believes in to the extent of almost giving in to defeat, but never quite gets there. Mostly because of his pride, partly because he doesn’t know how.

“Uh,” Hank says, mostly to himself. “I… What do you want?” He asks.

He’s better now that he’s not still a blushing, incoherent teenager with too much intelligence and not enough social skill, but he’s still nervous around the other boy. If he’s honest with himself, which he rarely is, Alex is the scariest person he’s ever met, the only one who is actually able to fully unwind him.

“I want to talk to you,” he says.

Hank lets him in because he doesn’t know how to say no to him.

“Hi,” he says when he opens the door. Clutched in Alex’s hands are bottles of soda and some takeout bags.

“Hey,” he says easily, pushing the bags into his hands. “You eat recently?”

He really can’t remember the last time he ate, but he doesn’t want to tell Alex that, because he’ll probably yell at him for it. “No,” is all he says.

He grins. “Awesome,” he replies, “I brought your favorite.”

Hank could smell it outside the door, but decides to let Alex think that he didn’t, because pride is something that he wears well.

“Thanks,” he says, and opens the bags, handing Alex his food and taking his own.

Alex shrugs. “Are you okay?”

He looks up, startled, because that was the one thing that he never expected him to ask. “Why?”

“I know you were close with Raven,” he replies, “and I saw the look in your eyes when she walked away with Erik,” he explains, and it might just be his imagination, but he hears disappointment in his voice.

Maybe Alex was in love with Raven, too.

The thought hurts more than he ever imagined it would.

“She was doing what made her happy,” he says, and chuckles a little, self-deprecating. “I never expected her to stay, even when I first met her.”

Alex looks surprised at this. “What do you mean?’

“She mirrored Erik in more ways than one, you know? I think she stayed with Charles because he promised her that they’d go against the world together, and I knew that when she finally realized he had no intent to disconnect himself from humans, she’d leave with the one person who understood her wishes.” Hank explains.

“It’s weird,” he laughs a little, but it’s humorless. “I feel like everything has changed. There’s no more Raven, or Erik, and Charles is in shambles because the two most important people left his life.”

“He understands though, which is why he never stopped them. He knew that this was what they wanted, and he’s too selfless to make them stay.”

Alex nods, “They would’ve, too, if he had asked.”

Hank looks up, and meets his eyes. “I suppose everyone probably would, if they had someone to ask them.”

The line of Alex’s throat bobs. “You really think so?”

“Yeah, I do. People leave because they don’t have reasons to stay, or because they think that people don’t want them there.”

“Would you?”

Hank blinks. “What?”

He clears his throat, and a look of uncertainty, one that he only saw when he was trying to master his mutation, appears in his eyes again. “Would you stay? If I asked you to?”

“You wouldn’t,” he replies.

“No?”

He shakes his head. There would be no reason that Alex would want him around. “No.”

Alex laughs then, high and shrill, and it’s bordering on the lines of insanity, but he supposes everyone is off kilter now. “Oh, Hank, for as intelligent as you are, you’re completely oblivious when it matters.”

“What do you mean?”

“Why do you think I wouldn’t ask you to stay?”

Hank doesn’t meet his eyes, because he’s not strong enough, because as much as he’ll deny it, this is the one thing that bothers him to the point of breaking completely. “No one has ever asked before,” he whispers.

Alex doesn’t say anything, probably because he knows that Hank isn’t done yet, because the boy is more observant than Hank ever really gave him credit for.

“No one has ever loved me back.”

He’s forced to meet the other boy’s eyes with a hand under his chin, and all he sees is adoration, and a little exasperation. “Hank,” he whispers, and then he can’t really think anymore because lips are sliding over his own and it’s hard to really do anything.

Hank has only ever kissed two people: Raven and Alex. And while one of them was expected, and it was wonderful, the other was not, and it was better. The kiss is soft, and awkward, testing the waters of forbidden territory up until now. It’s everything that Hank thought it would be. Alex’s hands tangle in his fur, stroking the skin beneath it; he thinks he would probably be blushing if it were possible anymore.

“Henry McCoy,” he whispers. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Stay,” he says, “and kiss me again?” He offers sheepishly.

Alex lets out a laugh that is too fond to be anything but love, and drinks from his lips again.

It doesn’t even occur to Hank that he never once told him his actual name, and that maybe he had been overlooking this boy for far too long.