Atlas Shrugged fanfic: Francisco x Hank
I don't own Atlas Shrugged. In fact, I don't really like it much. But you can't deny a plotbunny as insistent as this one was.
Their work done, Francisco and Hank stood together, looking at the place where the gap had been. Hank felt his breathing slow.
“You’re not relieved.” The playboy looked at him, his face backlit by the flames of the furnace. “You knew we could do it.”
Hank nodded. “As soon as I saw you.” He meant when he’d seen Francisco throw that first ball of clay, but the surge of emotion that accompanied the words, said more than that.
“Do I need to tell you what you feel?”
Like magnet meeting iron, their bodies came together, like positive and negative poles, that can’t be kept apart with all a man’s strength. In a single motion, they were down off the bank of baked clay. Francisco’s arms were tight around Hank’s body, his tongue prised the industrialist’s lips apart. “This is how it has to be,” he murmured. “There is no conflict between the standards of a man’s mind and the desires of his body.”
Yes. Hank could feel Francisco’s hardon pressed against him, mirroring his own, so hard it strained at his trousers. “Not here,” he said though, thinking of the workmen all around them, still cleaning up the mess from the disaster. “Let’s go to…”
Francisco laughed softly. “Do you really care what these men think?” His hands were gentle in Hank’s hair, his eyes held something stronger than fondness.
Hank returned his laugh. “No.”
“They’re less than us. Did any of them step up to contain the break-out?” The playboy kissed Hank again.
“Take me,” Francisco said. Hank heard the noise as he unzipped his trousers. He dropped to his knees, uncaring of the lumps of fireclay, still baking dry, all around them, of the heat from the blast furnace, of anything except for the need to have this man’s cock in his mouth.
Francisco was fully erect, his cock long and lean like the rest of him. He thrust into Hank’s mouth only long enough to wet himself. Then, “there,” he said, pointing to a wall. “I want you there.”
“Oh god, Lillian. As if Dagney weren’t enough!” Hank said it, his voice low, conflicted, but as he spoke, he was walking to where Francisco had told him to, undoing his trousers as he moved.
“Don’t give in to guilt,” Francisco said. “That’s how the looters hold you. Can you give yourself to someone in a spirit of self-sacrifice? Did it ever work before?” He put his hands on Hank’s hips, eased the tip of his cock between his ass-cheeks. “Sex is the most profoundly selfish of all acts. It’s the one that forces a man to confront the truth of what his ego’s worth to him. That’s why…” He breaks off as he thrusts deep, going inside Hank in one motion.
“It’s why a man is drawn to the very best that he sees in others!” Francisco’s entry is painful, but it’s a good kind of pain, it makes Hank happy in a way that all his long, empty years with his wife could not. “I see it now,” he says. “First there was Dagny, now there’s you! We have to do this, don’t we?”
Francisco fucks him hard. “Yes.” - He can barely get the words out between thrusts. - “That’s why you wanted Dagny as soon as you saw her. - Why you wanted me, even though you didn’t realize it.”
He thrusts hard, the pain and pleasure mounting until Hank comes, spurting cream all over the factory walls, and he comes a moment or two afterward.
“When you’re ready, I’ll show you somebody better than either of us,” he says fondly. As they walk together toward Hank’s office, to clean up. “Oh, the threesomes we’ll have together when you meet him, Hank!”
Their work done, Francisco and Hank stood together, looking at the place where the gap had been. Hank felt his breathing slow.
“You’re not relieved.” The playboy looked at him, his face backlit by the flames of the furnace. “You knew we could do it.”
Hank nodded. “As soon as I saw you.” He meant when he’d seen Francisco throw that first ball of clay, but the surge of emotion that accompanied the words, said more than that.
“Do I need to tell you what you feel?”
Like magnet meeting iron, their bodies came together, like positive and negative poles, that can’t be kept apart with all a man’s strength. In a single motion, they were down off the bank of baked clay. Francisco’s arms were tight around Hank’s body, his tongue prised the industrialist’s lips apart. “This is how it has to be,” he murmured. “There is no conflict between the standards of a man’s mind and the desires of his body.”
Yes. Hank could feel Francisco’s hardon pressed against him, mirroring his own, so hard it strained at his trousers. “Not here,” he said though, thinking of the workmen all around them, still cleaning up the mess from the disaster. “Let’s go to…”
Francisco laughed softly. “Do you really care what these men think?” His hands were gentle in Hank’s hair, his eyes held something stronger than fondness.
Hank returned his laugh. “No.”
“They’re less than us. Did any of them step up to contain the break-out?” The playboy kissed Hank again.
“Take me,” Francisco said. Hank heard the noise as he unzipped his trousers. He dropped to his knees, uncaring of the lumps of fireclay, still baking dry, all around them, of the heat from the blast furnace, of anything except for the need to have this man’s cock in his mouth.
Francisco was fully erect, his cock long and lean like the rest of him. He thrust into Hank’s mouth only long enough to wet himself. Then, “there,” he said, pointing to a wall. “I want you there.”
“Oh god, Lillian. As if Dagney weren’t enough!” Hank said it, his voice low, conflicted, but as he spoke, he was walking to where Francisco had told him to, undoing his trousers as he moved.
“Don’t give in to guilt,” Francisco said. “That’s how the looters hold you. Can you give yourself to someone in a spirit of self-sacrifice? Did it ever work before?” He put his hands on Hank’s hips, eased the tip of his cock between his ass-cheeks. “Sex is the most profoundly selfish of all acts. It’s the one that forces a man to confront the truth of what his ego’s worth to him. That’s why…” He breaks off as he thrusts deep, going inside Hank in one motion.
“It’s why a man is drawn to the very best that he sees in others!” Francisco’s entry is painful, but it’s a good kind of pain, it makes Hank happy in a way that all his long, empty years with his wife could not. “I see it now,” he says. “First there was Dagny, now there’s you! We have to do this, don’t we?”
Francisco fucks him hard. “Yes.” - He can barely get the words out between thrusts. - “That’s why you wanted Dagny as soon as you saw her. - Why you wanted me, even though you didn’t realize it.”
He thrusts hard, the pain and pleasure mounting until Hank comes, spurting cream all over the factory walls, and he comes a moment or two afterward.
“When you’re ready, I’ll show you somebody better than either of us,” he says fondly. As they walk together toward Hank’s office, to clean up. “Oh, the threesomes we’ll have together when you meet him, Hank!”