FIC: genius | x-men: first class; alex/hank
Title: Genius
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Alex/Hank
Word Count: 1,160
Warnings: Established relationship, footkink, footjob.
Summary: Alex just needs to have at those feet.
A/N: For flwrpwr_vampyre.
--
Hank freaks out when Alex suggests it, at first, and they don’t talk for a few days. This is usually how things work with Hank. He’s too goddamn repressed, Alex thinks, and he’s trying to get him out of the habit of being spooked by everything, but it’s a long, hard process.
“It’s just, you know, his feet are like hands except more crazy sensitive,” Alex says to Sean. “Remember when you tickled his feet and he kicked you in the eye? I bet it would feel awesome if I sucked on them.”
“Never talk to me again,” Sean tells him and leaves, making gagging noises.
Alex perseveres, telling Hank in graphic detail about the possible benefits of allowing him to play with his feet - “It’ll be totally awesome if I just, you know, just suck on them, you could just touch yourself and let me go to town. It’d be so awesome, don’t act like it wouldn’t!” - but Hank just goes red and scuttles away with a hard-on. Alex wonders if he goes and jerks off thinking about Alex touching his feet. He probably does, because it’s Hank and he’s contrary like that.
So Alex has no choice but to sneak attack.
They’re just cuddling, which is what Hank likes to do before they have sex and which Alex pretends he doesn’t like, and Alex slides his foot down to rest against Hank’s. Hank’s eyes slip closed and he smiles.
Phase one complete.
Alex doesn’t dare move for a moment, but once Hank’s eyes have been closed for a while, he begins letting his foot tease against Hank’s ankle, the top of his foot. His toes curl around Hank’s and release. Hank stops breathing for a moment, his brow furrowed, then begins again, but shallowly. There’s a flush growing on his cheeks.
Phase two a rousing success.
Phase three is more complicated, and more delicate. Alex begins to kiss Hank delicately across his cheekbones, feeling his eyelashes flutter. His toes continue to curl along Hank’s feet. He can feel Hank struggling to conceal his heavy breathing.
But then phase three fails, because Hank opens his stupid mouth and says, “You’re not fooling me.”
Alex slumps against him, disappointed. His foot stills. “Come on, man!” he groans. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
“Hey.” Hank grabs him by the shoulder and forces him to look up. When Alex meets his eyes, he swallows. Hank looks fierce, lips tight, pupils blown. “I never said stop.”
Alex just stares at him for a minute, then kisses him soundly on the mouth and practically jumps to the bottom of the bed, where Hank’s feet are curling in on themselves, self-conscious. He runs his hand down from his ankle to his toes, one foot after the other, and grins when they flex and relax.
He’s no good at massages but he tries anyway, pressing his thumbs against Hank’s big toe, the balls of his hands putting pressure on the bottom of Hank’s feet. He’s not prepared for the way Hank arches his back at the slightest pressure, the way his cock is tenting his sweatpants already.
“How do you walk if you’re this sensitive?” he wonders aloud, but Hank just growls and gives him the Shut up right now look, so he keeps doing what he’s doing.
When he looks up again, Hank has pushed his pants down and is cupping his balls in his big-ass hands. Alex swallows. “Slow down, buddy,” he murmurs.
“Don’t call me your buddy when my hands are on my junk.”
“Sure.” Alex is a little bit hypnotized by how into this Hank is, but he has to force himself to focus. He’s fucking committed to this now, so even when Hank starts stroking himself and making tiny short little noises Alex has to be the king of concentration.
Okay. Time to get down to business.
He kneels in front of Hank’s feet, feeling oddly like he’s worshiping. In a way he is. He’s always kind of had a thing for Hank’s stupid feet, full of wicked jerk-off fantasies about touching them, getting them to touch him . . .
Hank is impeccably clean from head to, yes, toe, so Alex has no problem laving his tongue across the bottom of his big toe before sucking it into his mouth. Hank shouts his name really fucking loud at that, and Alex winces, sure everyone’s heard - but really, why should he care if people hear? He’s the luckiest son of a bitch in this whole mansion right now.
He pays attention to every one of Hank’s toes in turn, nibbling and licking and sucking gently, then harder, until Hank is grunting and fucking into his hand. Alex cocks his head and presses his tongue to the groove between toes and the flat of his foot, and Hank, whose fingers have been wrapped in the bedsheet, just rips five big holes in them. He lets go of his cock and, whining, puts his wrist in his mouth and bites.
Alex decides he’ll do it again.
He’s feeling pretty fucking smug but he’s not prepared for what comes next. Sure, he’s hard as hell, and he’d love some help, so to speak, but Hank seems pretty tied up, and Hank comes first. So when he feels Hank’s free foot tugging his pants down to his knees, rubbing up his thigh, and wrapping around his cock, he grunts and bites down on the side of Hank’s foot -
And Hank comes all over his stomach with a wail audible even through his fist, eyes squeezed tight shut. There’s come on his chin, too, and for some reason that’s what Alex’s eyes focus on as Hank begins to jack him off. With his foot.
“Fuck,” he manages, Hank’s foot slipping from his mouth as he steadies himself on all fours. His legs are trembling with the power behind each thrust of Hank’s foot. It’s tighter, drier, rougher than he’s had before, and there’s more strength in it, more danger. He wants to come so fucking bad.
Hank’s eyes open and they look at each other. Hank smiles weakly and pumps his foot faster, letting his hands fall to his sides. Alex is just mouthing un-words right now; “uh” and “ngk” and “oh oh oh” and dirty little things that he’ll never admit to in a million years except maybe in the middle of the night when Hank’s asleep he’ll say them again because they’re so fucking true -
His balls draw up and he’s coming too fast, too hard; he wanted it to last but there’s just no way. He doesn’t think he’s ever come this hard. He doesn’t think at all.
With a grunt, he slumps sideways, half onto the bed, half onto Hank, and looks up at him, exhausted. “Who was so right?” he manages, and grins.
“You were,” Hank says, “you’re a genius.”
Alex smiles against Hank’s leg. “Damn right I am.”
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Alex/Hank
Word Count: 1,160
Warnings: Established relationship, footkink, footjob.
Summary: Alex just needs to have at those feet.
A/N: For flwrpwr_vampyre.
--
Hank freaks out when Alex suggests it, at first, and they don’t talk for a few days. This is usually how things work with Hank. He’s too goddamn repressed, Alex thinks, and he’s trying to get him out of the habit of being spooked by everything, but it’s a long, hard process.
“It’s just, you know, his feet are like hands except more crazy sensitive,” Alex says to Sean. “Remember when you tickled his feet and he kicked you in the eye? I bet it would feel awesome if I sucked on them.”
“Never talk to me again,” Sean tells him and leaves, making gagging noises.
Alex perseveres, telling Hank in graphic detail about the possible benefits of allowing him to play with his feet - “It’ll be totally awesome if I just, you know, just suck on them, you could just touch yourself and let me go to town. It’d be so awesome, don’t act like it wouldn’t!” - but Hank just goes red and scuttles away with a hard-on. Alex wonders if he goes and jerks off thinking about Alex touching his feet. He probably does, because it’s Hank and he’s contrary like that.
So Alex has no choice but to sneak attack.
They’re just cuddling, which is what Hank likes to do before they have sex and which Alex pretends he doesn’t like, and Alex slides his foot down to rest against Hank’s. Hank’s eyes slip closed and he smiles.
Phase one complete.
Alex doesn’t dare move for a moment, but once Hank’s eyes have been closed for a while, he begins letting his foot tease against Hank’s ankle, the top of his foot. His toes curl around Hank’s and release. Hank stops breathing for a moment, his brow furrowed, then begins again, but shallowly. There’s a flush growing on his cheeks.
Phase two a rousing success.
Phase three is more complicated, and more delicate. Alex begins to kiss Hank delicately across his cheekbones, feeling his eyelashes flutter. His toes continue to curl along Hank’s feet. He can feel Hank struggling to conceal his heavy breathing.
But then phase three fails, because Hank opens his stupid mouth and says, “You’re not fooling me.”
Alex slumps against him, disappointed. His foot stills. “Come on, man!” he groans. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
“Hey.” Hank grabs him by the shoulder and forces him to look up. When Alex meets his eyes, he swallows. Hank looks fierce, lips tight, pupils blown. “I never said stop.”
Alex just stares at him for a minute, then kisses him soundly on the mouth and practically jumps to the bottom of the bed, where Hank’s feet are curling in on themselves, self-conscious. He runs his hand down from his ankle to his toes, one foot after the other, and grins when they flex and relax.
He’s no good at massages but he tries anyway, pressing his thumbs against Hank’s big toe, the balls of his hands putting pressure on the bottom of Hank’s feet. He’s not prepared for the way Hank arches his back at the slightest pressure, the way his cock is tenting his sweatpants already.
“How do you walk if you’re this sensitive?” he wonders aloud, but Hank just growls and gives him the Shut up right now look, so he keeps doing what he’s doing.
When he looks up again, Hank has pushed his pants down and is cupping his balls in his big-ass hands. Alex swallows. “Slow down, buddy,” he murmurs.
“Don’t call me your buddy when my hands are on my junk.”
“Sure.” Alex is a little bit hypnotized by how into this Hank is, but he has to force himself to focus. He’s fucking committed to this now, so even when Hank starts stroking himself and making tiny short little noises Alex has to be the king of concentration.
Okay. Time to get down to business.
He kneels in front of Hank’s feet, feeling oddly like he’s worshiping. In a way he is. He’s always kind of had a thing for Hank’s stupid feet, full of wicked jerk-off fantasies about touching them, getting them to touch him . . .
Hank is impeccably clean from head to, yes, toe, so Alex has no problem laving his tongue across the bottom of his big toe before sucking it into his mouth. Hank shouts his name really fucking loud at that, and Alex winces, sure everyone’s heard - but really, why should he care if people hear? He’s the luckiest son of a bitch in this whole mansion right now.
He pays attention to every one of Hank’s toes in turn, nibbling and licking and sucking gently, then harder, until Hank is grunting and fucking into his hand. Alex cocks his head and presses his tongue to the groove between toes and the flat of his foot, and Hank, whose fingers have been wrapped in the bedsheet, just rips five big holes in them. He lets go of his cock and, whining, puts his wrist in his mouth and bites.
Alex decides he’ll do it again.
He’s feeling pretty fucking smug but he’s not prepared for what comes next. Sure, he’s hard as hell, and he’d love some help, so to speak, but Hank seems pretty tied up, and Hank comes first. So when he feels Hank’s free foot tugging his pants down to his knees, rubbing up his thigh, and wrapping around his cock, he grunts and bites down on the side of Hank’s foot -
And Hank comes all over his stomach with a wail audible even through his fist, eyes squeezed tight shut. There’s come on his chin, too, and for some reason that’s what Alex’s eyes focus on as Hank begins to jack him off. With his foot.
“Fuck,” he manages, Hank’s foot slipping from his mouth as he steadies himself on all fours. His legs are trembling with the power behind each thrust of Hank’s foot. It’s tighter, drier, rougher than he’s had before, and there’s more strength in it, more danger. He wants to come so fucking bad.
Hank’s eyes open and they look at each other. Hank smiles weakly and pumps his foot faster, letting his hands fall to his sides. Alex is just mouthing un-words right now; “uh” and “ngk” and “oh oh oh” and dirty little things that he’ll never admit to in a million years except maybe in the middle of the night when Hank’s asleep he’ll say them again because they’re so fucking true -
His balls draw up and he’s coming too fast, too hard; he wanted it to last but there’s just no way. He doesn’t think he’s ever come this hard. He doesn’t think at all.
With a grunt, he slumps sideways, half onto the bed, half onto Hank, and looks up at him, exhausted. “Who was so right?” he manages, and grins.
“You were,” Hank says, “you’re a genius.”
Alex smiles against Hank’s leg. “Damn right I am.”