Originally written/posted: June 2011
Fandom: X-Men First Class (2010)
Pairing: Hank/Alex
Rating: T
Word Count: 1,100
Warnings: Alcohol use.
Notes: Truthfully, I have not reread this one at all. Sorry!
Hank has come to the conclusion that he really, really would like to see Raven fall on her face tonight.
He’s also maybe really fucking drunk and can hardly think straight, but you know, logic, his logic is unbreakable, indestructible. Surely, alcohol is not going to ruin his impeccable logic.
“I think-” he slurs, opening another bottle of Smirnoff, because drinking is better than watching what is right fucking in front of him. “I think that this is a bad idea. I mean. I uh, mean, Daddy could catch us.”
The rest of the room blinks at him, but Alex doesn’t take his hand off of Raven’s breast. “Daddy?”
“Y’know, Charles.”
Raven cocks her head in disgust. “That’s really gross, he’s like my brother, my white, pasty, British brother.”
“Yeah, and he’s kind of hot, too, I shouldn’t find him hot if he’s our daddy.” Alex says, and he’s probably pinching it now. Fuck.
“You can if it’s kinky!” Sean counters.
He wants to tell her not to speak now, because she’s being really fucking annoying, because she is all fucking over Alex. “I never. . . I never curse this much.”
“What?”
He shrugs. “Oh. I was meant to think that. Oops.”
It’s really hard to think, and normally that would be expected because he’s only been drunk once; that was at a fraternity party at Harvard, where he took off his shoes to show the entire room what his feet looked like. Needless to say, life was horrible after that, and he never got drunk again.
Alex is really fucking drunk, too, so maybe he shouldn’t be this pissed off about him groping Raven’s breast like he is, as he’s never really shown an interest in her anyway. But breast, Alex, touching, Raven is really all that is going through his mind right now. And it’s making him really mad.
“I’m so mad,” he says.
Sean looks at him. “No reason to be drunk when you’re mad, okay, Hank? Don’t think, just feel.”
“That doesn’t even make sense,” Raven giggles, pushing Alex’s touch away from her. “Jesus, you’re so fucking handsy.”
“Can’t help it,” Alex mutters. “It’s so interesting.”
Hank can’t take it anymore. He’s really fucking drunk, and when he’s really fucking drunk, he does dumb shit like jump from buildings into pools, and take off his shoes, and maybe yell at a boy that isn’t his to stay the fuck away.
“Alex,” he says slowly.
Alex turns to him, his gaze glazed and unfocused. “What is it, bo-”
“You need – bro, you need to get get the fuck off of her okay.”
He blinks. “What?”
“Just like, stop, man.”
“Since when does Hank use any slang?” Sean asks, from the corner, looking up at everyone quizzically.
“No one asked you!” Hank hollers. “Go back and roll a joint or something, god.”
Raven is crying on the couch in front of him, and he can’t tell if it’s from laughter or because he’s yelling — it might be a bit of both — but it’s satisfactory all of the same.
“Success.”
::::::
Hank is still really fucking drunk.
The only thing that has changed from before is that he now has two more drinks in his system, and that Alex has moved from Raven on to Sean.
“I love your freckles,” Alex says. “And I kind of want to play connect the dots with them. Can I?”
“As long as it’s permanent marker, man, that’d be awesome.”
Hank might be even more mad than he was with Raven, because as far as he knows, Raven doesn’t have a dick, and it’s so much more serious when Alex is getting handsy with someone who has one — another person who isn’t him.
“Connect the dots is stupid,” Hank says; he’s drunk, so it’s not like he cares if he sounds like a petulant child.
“God, Hank, you’re such a cranky junk.” Raven says, knocking another shot back.
“Says the girl that lets a boy touch her breast, in public.” He narrows his eyes at her, and yeah, he’s totally judging.
“He’s gay,” she says.
He blinks. “What?”
“He doesn’t even like woman.”
“I just think boobs are interesting!” Alex yells.
“What?”
“Man, and people think you’re smart.”
Hank doesn’t say anything, just stares at Alex like he lost his mind.
Raven observes, “I think we broke him.”
“No, he can’t be broke, he’s beast, he’s like, super Hank or something.”
“That’s the cheesiest thing you’ve said, man.”
“I just want to be touched, too, okay?” Hank blurts. “God.”
::::::
The moments seem to blur together when Hank really tries to think about it, but then again, he’s drunk, and angry, and is pouting in the corner. He’s pretty sure he’s close to crying too, because the fact that no one wants to touch him is kind of upsetting. He’s knows he’s scary-looking, with his blue fur and weird eyebrows that somehow show on his skin, but he deserves to be touched too.
“I need to blog about this later,” he says to himself. “At least those people will care.”
And then, there is a pliant blond boy in his lap, and there’s really not much more he can say.
“Alex?”
“Beast!”
Alex also chooses this moment to curl up into his neck, and breathe into his fur. He’s pretty sure he feels a tongue, too, and it’s not like he’s complaining either.
“What are you doing?”
“Touchin’ you.” He says, like it’s the stupidest thing in the world that Hank is even asking, and yeah, he’s probably right, but Hank is masochist at heart.
“Why?”
“Because I have a thing for big and blue Beasts,” he says, and then – oh.
“Are you grinding against me?”
Alex nods. “Yeah,” he sighs, and Hank’s fingers travel down to grip his hips on their own accord, pulling the boys slender body closer to his own.
“You know,” Hank says, “this is nice.”
“Yeah,” Alex replies. “But here’s an idea. . .”
“What?”
“Shut up, please.”
And Hank does, because he knows when to obey someone else’s orders and when to not, and he’d very much like Alex to stay right where he is. He’s never really had a lap dance before, but if they’re all like this, then he’s only sorry he didn’t get to experience one before now.
Then again, it’s not very often that he has a ready, cocksure boy in his lap who is gay, which is lovely because he’s kind of gay too; he can’t help but think that the possibilities are endless with them.
Really, Hank thinks, he should get drunk more often.
::::::
“Drunk,” he whispers.
“What?” Alex giggles into his neck.
“I like being drunk with you. Get more drunk with me, Alex.”
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