FIC: too much/just enough | x-men: first class; alex/hank/sean
--
“Stop squirming,” Hank orders, his voice clipped and precise.
Sean hates it when he does this. When he’s so fucking clinical with a boner the size of Florida. He also hates being a sound sleeper, because it makes shit like this possible.
He’s spread-eagled like motherfucking Jesus with his wrists tied to a bar that’s suspended from the ceiling (in the lab, for god’s sake, anybody could come in here). His feet are spread apart and tied to metal loops in the floor, and he’s naked. Hank’s standing in front of him with his hands behind his back like he’s some kind of fucking science experiment, and Alex is sitting cross-legged right in front of him with his face at cock level.
Hank slapped him to wake him up. His cheek stings; he might have bitten his tongue.
Alex kisses his thigh. “Good morning, gorgeous,” he says.
“It’s not morning,” Hank corrects him. “It’s a little after midnight.”
Sean rolls his eyes. “Hank, what the hell. Nobody cares.”
Hank slaps him again. Sean bites his lip when Hank’s hand hits his face. He feels blood trickling between his teeth. He lets his head fall forward, hair hanging over his eyes, and blinks down at Alex, whose eyes are wide, pupils blown. A drop of blood falls from Sean’s mouth to Alex’s chin.
He slides his thick tongue out and laps it up, never breaking eye contact. Sean whines (like a goddamn dog).
“Remember what we talked about?” Alex breathes, rubbing his hands up and down Sean’s pale thighs. “The other night, remember?”
Sean has to think way too hard about this, but all the blood in his brain is rushing to his cock and he can’t stop thinking about if Alex would move his hands just a little bit.
But he does remember. “I said I wanted to try - “
“Don’t say it,” Hank says, and tilts Sean’s chin up with one finger. Fuck, if Alex’s eyes are fire, Hank’s are ice, bright and blue and burning cold. “You’ll ruin it if you say it. Just say yes.”
The word “Hank” falls out of his mouth. He strains automatically to reach for him, to reach for Alex, to reach for himself, for god’s sake, but he can’t. “Yes,” Sean says, and his eyes roll back in his head as Alex chuckles against his bare thigh.
Hank clears his throat and undoes the first two buttons on his crisp white shirt. There’s a slight sheen of sweat on his brow, his erection ruining the line of his pants, but other than that he gives no sign of being anything but calm.
Sean loves the person Hank becomes in bed. He loves getting sharp, level orders. He loves how Hank’s selfishness in bed balances Alex’s occasionally overwhelming need to satisfy. But when Hank reaches up and clasps their fingers together, just for a second, Sean squeezes back.
Hank gives him a brief smile, then the mask slides back into place. “Don’t be too nice to him, Alex,” he warns, and disappears behind Sean for a moment.
Despite the fact that he trusts Hank, he really does, Sean tenses, tries to crane his neck backwards, and gasps when Alex gives him a hard pinch on the thigh. “Don’t look,” Alex says, kissing at the red mark, “or Hank will be mad.”
“What are you gonna do?” Sean asks, his voice thick.
“I don’t know yet.” Alex gives him an angelic smile. “All I know is you’re not coming until we do.”
Sean shunts his hips forward, blind, unthinking, distracted as fucking always by the way Alex says the word come. It’s like he gives it extra syllables. And he’s breathing on Sean’s cock, moving up onto his knees, and -
Kissing his stomach. Sean squirms. This is all well and good but - Alex licks his way inside Sean’s belly button and Sean bites his bloody lip - “I’m ready, man, whenever you are,” he pants, and yowls when Alex scratches hard at his hipbones.
“Nope,” Alex tells him. “I told you. Not yet.”
Suddenly there’s a rattling noise behind him, and Sean tries to whip his head around but Hank grabs him by the base of his skull and forces his head down. “Stop,” Hank commands, and Sean stills, until his lips are forced open and something cold and hard is pressed in -
“Jesus Christ, is that a fucking ice cube?” is what Sean tries and fails to say.
“Yes,” Hank says. “Now be quiet.”
There’s that rattling noise again, and Hank wraps his arms around Sean’s chest. Sean relaxes back into his grip, hands resting in their ropes, until something wet drips onto his chest and suddenly Hank’s cupping at his nipples and -
Everything is fucking cold and wet and he’s writhing and twisting because it’s too fucking much sensation. Hank’s holding ice in each hand, and it’s dripping and sliding down his chest and his stomach and he feels like he’s fucking dying. He wails through the quick-melting ice in his mouth, bucks his hips, and he can’t even stand how smug Hank sounds chuckling in his ear.
Alex’s eyes are big, his smile wide, as he waits at Sean’s waist, nuzzling and kissing at his cock. He’s watching the water that’s dripping down Sean’s chest, and when it reaches Sean’s navel Alex begins to lap it up, broad tongue sliding across Sean’s taut stomach.
“Look at that,” Hank murmurs in Sean’s ear. “He was thirsty.” His hands, wet and red from cold, move away, get more ice, press it hard against Sean’s nipples. “How does that feel?”
Freezing water is running down his chin. Sean barely has the wherewithal to breathe, let alone speak, but he manages two words - “It hurts” - and then more - “Touch me, Alex, please” - and then - “Fuck, please, it hurts and I need you to fucking touch me, man, please - !”
“It’s no good appealing to him.” Hank bites at his earlobe. “He likes it just as much as I do. Can you feel how much I like it?”
He presses himself against Sean’s ass. Sean can feel hot cock through thick fabric, and he cries out as the last of the ice melts and Hank tweaks his nipples hard. “Yes,” he says. “I can feel you.”
He can see Alex. Alex is touching himself. Just lightly, just a bit, but it’s enough to make Sean want to die because he wants so much more than he’s getting right now. He’s so cold, he’s shivering, and neither of them will help him. Fuck.
He wonders if he’ll come without them touching his cock at all.
Hank moves away again. Sean doesn’t hear him return, but he feels him, the hot line of his body pressed up against his back. There’s the telltale pop of what Sean knows has to be a bottle of lube, and he sighs with relief when Hank presses slick fingers against his entrance.
Hank laughs, though, and that gets him just a little bit worried.
There’s the familiar slow slide, resistance and give, of Hank’s fingers in him, that sweet feeling when Hank finds the spot that makes him twist and yowl, the fullness of being scissored and opened. It feels so fucking good. He wants to come so bad. But he’s cold and Alex is just rubbing his thighs instead of doing anything useful, and he’s reduced to pressing back against Hank’s hand irritably. “Come on, Hank,” he growls.
Hank just pushes his head down again, shushes him. Then he pulls his fingers out and pushes his cock in with one smooth motion.
When Hank pushes in it’s always a burn but this time it’s tighter than usual; Hank feels bigger. Maybe it’s because he’s being rougher. Maybe because he has more power. Sean doesn’t care, though. He arches his back and mumbles in the back of his throat, adjusts his hips as well as he can given the circumstances. He pushes back against Hank, who, predictably, grabs his hips and holds him still.
Alex is looking over Sean’s shoulder, licking his lips, one hand in a loose circle around his cock. He gives himself a few quick pumps, still looking at Hank, and then leans in to press a sloppy wet kiss to the head of Sean’s cock.
Sean jumps and watches, red-faced, as precome dribbles from the tip.
“You ready, bozo?” Alex asks, his lip twitching.
Hank presses his head against the side of Sean’s and nods.
“Don’t ask me or anything!” Sean snaps.
Hank responds by pulling out, twisting his hips, and grinding back in. Sean can’t breathe, Hank’s too fucking big, and then he’s whining and fucking Alex’s mouth, his awful wet cocktease mouth because he’s not even sucking, he’s just giving little licks like Sean’s a fucking popsicle.
And then his world becomes a terrible place, because Alex makes an O with his finger and his thumb and wraps it around the base of his cock. He grins up at Sean and takes him all in at once, but it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter, he can’t come because Alex is holding him away from it and Hank’s pounding his ass and he’s cold and wet and he can’t take it anymore.
He cries out, tears stinging the corners of his eyes, and pulls at the restraints (he can feel the beginning of rope burn). “Guys, guys, guys,” he whimpers, “I’m serious, this, it hurts, I just - “
“Shut.” Hank pounds into him. “The fuck.” Twist of the hips. “Up. Sean.” Scratching his sides, he pushes in deeper until Sean is actually screaming, sure someone can hear them but unable to care.
Alex is shaking with the movements of Hank, every thrust of Hank’s hips pushing him back just a little and forcing him to press himself forward to get all of Sean in his mouth again. Sean’s watching and dying inside and he wants to come so fucking bad and Hank is speeding up, making these little noises in his throat that sound like fuck or uhh or yeah, and Alex’s free hand is on his cock and it’s moving so fast it’s got to fucking hurt, it’s got to -
His ass is so fucking sore, he can’t take it - “Christ!” he screams, digging his fingers into his palms so hard he knows he’s broken the skin. “I need - “
And Hank grunts and comes in his ass with one last thrust, Alex all over his bare feet with a wet lick to his cock.
Everything stops.
Sean lets them have a minute. He’s okay with it. He likes that when Alex releases his hold on his cock some of the pressure goes away. But he’s not okay when Hank pulls out, or when Alex sits back on his ass.
“Hey!” he demands hoarsely. “Excuse me! What the hell are you doing?”
“Be polite,” Hank snaps, but without too much rancor. He kneels at Sean’s feet. He kisses Alex, slow and sloppy, on the lips. Sean can see their tongues. He holds his breath.
Alex grips the back of Hank’s head hard, clearly lost in the feel of his mouth, but Hank steers them towards Sean’s cock, thank god, thank god.
Sean doesn’t believe his luck. They part, and then they’re kissing around his cock. It’s wet and tender and his balls tighten up and he comes all over their faces like he’s a stupid little virgin. But he doesn’t care. Because they open their mouths for him, swallow his come, and kiss it off each other’s faces while he pants, comes back to earth.
“Jesus,” he manages. “Jesus fucking Christ.”
Hank gets to his feet, suddenly the picture of concern. “Are you all right? Did your wrists chafe?” He unties the rope quickly, inspecting the skin around Sean’s wrists. “I have some aloe.”
“Fuck the aloe,” Sean tells him. He’s sleepy, fucked-out, and a little bit hungry. “Let’s go to bed.”
Alex kisses the corner of his mouth. He tastes come and smiles. It’s weirdly comforting.
“Stop squirming,” Hank orders, his voice clipped and precise.
Sean hates it when he does this. When he’s so fucking clinical with a boner the size of Florida. He also hates being a sound sleeper, because it makes shit like this possible.
He’s spread-eagled like motherfucking Jesus with his wrists tied to a bar that’s suspended from the ceiling (in the lab, for god’s sake, anybody could come in here). His feet are spread apart and tied to metal loops in the floor, and he’s naked. Hank’s standing in front of him with his hands behind his back like he’s some kind of fucking science experiment, and Alex is sitting cross-legged right in front of him with his face at cock level.
Hank slapped him to wake him up. His cheek stings; he might have bitten his tongue.
Alex kisses his thigh. “Good morning, gorgeous,” he says.
“It’s not morning,” Hank corrects him. “It’s a little after midnight.”
Sean rolls his eyes. “Hank, what the hell. Nobody cares.”
Hank slaps him again. Sean bites his lip when Hank’s hand hits his face. He feels blood trickling between his teeth. He lets his head fall forward, hair hanging over his eyes, and blinks down at Alex, whose eyes are wide, pupils blown. A drop of blood falls from Sean’s mouth to Alex’s chin.
He slides his thick tongue out and laps it up, never breaking eye contact. Sean whines (like a goddamn dog).
“Remember what we talked about?” Alex breathes, rubbing his hands up and down Sean’s pale thighs. “The other night, remember?”
Sean has to think way too hard about this, but all the blood in his brain is rushing to his cock and he can’t stop thinking about if Alex would move his hands just a little bit.
But he does remember. “I said I wanted to try - “
“Don’t say it,” Hank says, and tilts Sean’s chin up with one finger. Fuck, if Alex’s eyes are fire, Hank’s are ice, bright and blue and burning cold. “You’ll ruin it if you say it. Just say yes.”
The word “Hank” falls out of his mouth. He strains automatically to reach for him, to reach for Alex, to reach for himself, for god’s sake, but he can’t. “Yes,” Sean says, and his eyes roll back in his head as Alex chuckles against his bare thigh.
Hank clears his throat and undoes the first two buttons on his crisp white shirt. There’s a slight sheen of sweat on his brow, his erection ruining the line of his pants, but other than that he gives no sign of being anything but calm.
Sean loves the person Hank becomes in bed. He loves getting sharp, level orders. He loves how Hank’s selfishness in bed balances Alex’s occasionally overwhelming need to satisfy. But when Hank reaches up and clasps their fingers together, just for a second, Sean squeezes back.
Hank gives him a brief smile, then the mask slides back into place. “Don’t be too nice to him, Alex,” he warns, and disappears behind Sean for a moment.
Despite the fact that he trusts Hank, he really does, Sean tenses, tries to crane his neck backwards, and gasps when Alex gives him a hard pinch on the thigh. “Don’t look,” Alex says, kissing at the red mark, “or Hank will be mad.”
“What are you gonna do?” Sean asks, his voice thick.
“I don’t know yet.” Alex gives him an angelic smile. “All I know is you’re not coming until we do.”
Sean shunts his hips forward, blind, unthinking, distracted as fucking always by the way Alex says the word come. It’s like he gives it extra syllables. And he’s breathing on Sean’s cock, moving up onto his knees, and -
Kissing his stomach. Sean squirms. This is all well and good but - Alex licks his way inside Sean’s belly button and Sean bites his bloody lip - “I’m ready, man, whenever you are,” he pants, and yowls when Alex scratches hard at his hipbones.
“Nope,” Alex tells him. “I told you. Not yet.”
Suddenly there’s a rattling noise behind him, and Sean tries to whip his head around but Hank grabs him by the base of his skull and forces his head down. “Stop,” Hank commands, and Sean stills, until his lips are forced open and something cold and hard is pressed in -
“Jesus Christ, is that a fucking ice cube?” is what Sean tries and fails to say.
“Yes,” Hank says. “Now be quiet.”
There’s that rattling noise again, and Hank wraps his arms around Sean’s chest. Sean relaxes back into his grip, hands resting in their ropes, until something wet drips onto his chest and suddenly Hank’s cupping at his nipples and -
Everything is fucking cold and wet and he’s writhing and twisting because it’s too fucking much sensation. Hank’s holding ice in each hand, and it’s dripping and sliding down his chest and his stomach and he feels like he’s fucking dying. He wails through the quick-melting ice in his mouth, bucks his hips, and he can’t even stand how smug Hank sounds chuckling in his ear.
Alex’s eyes are big, his smile wide, as he waits at Sean’s waist, nuzzling and kissing at his cock. He’s watching the water that’s dripping down Sean’s chest, and when it reaches Sean’s navel Alex begins to lap it up, broad tongue sliding across Sean’s taut stomach.
“Look at that,” Hank murmurs in Sean’s ear. “He was thirsty.” His hands, wet and red from cold, move away, get more ice, press it hard against Sean’s nipples. “How does that feel?”
Freezing water is running down his chin. Sean barely has the wherewithal to breathe, let alone speak, but he manages two words - “It hurts” - and then more - “Touch me, Alex, please” - and then - “Fuck, please, it hurts and I need you to fucking touch me, man, please - !”
“It’s no good appealing to him.” Hank bites at his earlobe. “He likes it just as much as I do. Can you feel how much I like it?”
He presses himself against Sean’s ass. Sean can feel hot cock through thick fabric, and he cries out as the last of the ice melts and Hank tweaks his nipples hard. “Yes,” he says. “I can feel you.”
He can see Alex. Alex is touching himself. Just lightly, just a bit, but it’s enough to make Sean want to die because he wants so much more than he’s getting right now. He’s so cold, he’s shivering, and neither of them will help him. Fuck.
He wonders if he’ll come without them touching his cock at all.
Hank moves away again. Sean doesn’t hear him return, but he feels him, the hot line of his body pressed up against his back. There’s the telltale pop of what Sean knows has to be a bottle of lube, and he sighs with relief when Hank presses slick fingers against his entrance.
Hank laughs, though, and that gets him just a little bit worried.
There’s the familiar slow slide, resistance and give, of Hank’s fingers in him, that sweet feeling when Hank finds the spot that makes him twist and yowl, the fullness of being scissored and opened. It feels so fucking good. He wants to come so bad. But he’s cold and Alex is just rubbing his thighs instead of doing anything useful, and he’s reduced to pressing back against Hank’s hand irritably. “Come on, Hank,” he growls.
Hank just pushes his head down again, shushes him. Then he pulls his fingers out and pushes his cock in with one smooth motion.
When Hank pushes in it’s always a burn but this time it’s tighter than usual; Hank feels bigger. Maybe it’s because he’s being rougher. Maybe because he has more power. Sean doesn’t care, though. He arches his back and mumbles in the back of his throat, adjusts his hips as well as he can given the circumstances. He pushes back against Hank, who, predictably, grabs his hips and holds him still.
Alex is looking over Sean’s shoulder, licking his lips, one hand in a loose circle around his cock. He gives himself a few quick pumps, still looking at Hank, and then leans in to press a sloppy wet kiss to the head of Sean’s cock.
Sean jumps and watches, red-faced, as precome dribbles from the tip.
“You ready, bozo?” Alex asks, his lip twitching.
Hank presses his head against the side of Sean’s and nods.
“Don’t ask me or anything!” Sean snaps.
Hank responds by pulling out, twisting his hips, and grinding back in. Sean can’t breathe, Hank’s too fucking big, and then he’s whining and fucking Alex’s mouth, his awful wet cocktease mouth because he’s not even sucking, he’s just giving little licks like Sean’s a fucking popsicle.
And then his world becomes a terrible place, because Alex makes an O with his finger and his thumb and wraps it around the base of his cock. He grins up at Sean and takes him all in at once, but it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter, he can’t come because Alex is holding him away from it and Hank’s pounding his ass and he’s cold and wet and he can’t take it anymore.
He cries out, tears stinging the corners of his eyes, and pulls at the restraints (he can feel the beginning of rope burn). “Guys, guys, guys,” he whimpers, “I’m serious, this, it hurts, I just - “
“Shut.” Hank pounds into him. “The fuck.” Twist of the hips. “Up. Sean.” Scratching his sides, he pushes in deeper until Sean is actually screaming, sure someone can hear them but unable to care.
Alex is shaking with the movements of Hank, every thrust of Hank’s hips pushing him back just a little and forcing him to press himself forward to get all of Sean in his mouth again. Sean’s watching and dying inside and he wants to come so fucking bad and Hank is speeding up, making these little noises in his throat that sound like fuck or uhh or yeah, and Alex’s free hand is on his cock and it’s moving so fast it’s got to fucking hurt, it’s got to -
His ass is so fucking sore, he can’t take it - “Christ!” he screams, digging his fingers into his palms so hard he knows he’s broken the skin. “I need - “
And Hank grunts and comes in his ass with one last thrust, Alex all over his bare feet with a wet lick to his cock.
Everything stops.
Sean lets them have a minute. He’s okay with it. He likes that when Alex releases his hold on his cock some of the pressure goes away. But he’s not okay when Hank pulls out, or when Alex sits back on his ass.
“Hey!” he demands hoarsely. “Excuse me! What the hell are you doing?”
“Be polite,” Hank snaps, but without too much rancor. He kneels at Sean’s feet. He kisses Alex, slow and sloppy, on the lips. Sean can see their tongues. He holds his breath.
Alex grips the back of Hank’s head hard, clearly lost in the feel of his mouth, but Hank steers them towards Sean’s cock, thank god, thank god.
Sean doesn’t believe his luck. They part, and then they’re kissing around his cock. It’s wet and tender and his balls tighten up and he comes all over their faces like he’s a stupid little virgin. But he doesn’t care. Because they open their mouths for him, swallow his come, and kiss it off each other’s faces while he pants, comes back to earth.
“Jesus,” he manages. “Jesus fucking Christ.”
Hank gets to his feet, suddenly the picture of concern. “Are you all right? Did your wrists chafe?” He unties the rope quickly, inspecting the skin around Sean’s wrists. “I have some aloe.”
“Fuck the aloe,” Sean tells him. He’s sleepy, fucked-out, and a little bit hungry. “Let’s go to bed.”
Alex kisses the corner of his mouth. He tastes come and smiles. It’s weirdly comforting.