Alex/Hank: It's been a long, long time G - 1011 words
I said I’d write this ages ago for avidlie (Oooh dear! I really had to go hunting for you, sweetheart. I’m sorry I didn’t work harder to keep us close D: ), and, well, it’s horrendously late. Kinda went with that. So, 2011!First Class fic.
Please read my Personal Disclaimer.
*
“What’s this doing on your wall?” Alex asks, thumbing the edge of a colourful poster (Xavier Academy 2011 Winter Prom! it declares in bright, cartoonish letters).
Hank looks over, gaze traveling slowly to the atrocity on his wall. He smiles softly. “Oh, that,” he shrugs, turning back to his experiments - Alex is pretty sure he’s blushing under all that fluff. “Prom’s coming up. I offered to chaperone.”
“Prom,” Alex echoes.
“Yeah. Didn’t have it while we were students. It’s pretty recent, I suppose.”
“Huh.” Alex lets his hand fall away from the poster and tucks his hands into his pockets. He guesses stuff like prom is one of those things that you do to try and feel normal, instead of just like a mutant. “You ever go to your high school prom?”
Hank snorts out a laugh. “No,” he says. “I was way too young. You?”
“Was in solitary before I even got there.”
That draws another laugh - a slightly bitter one - from Hank's throat. “Real pair we are, huh?” he remarks, still not looking away from whatever it is that he’s working on. Alex had learned pretty early on that he was really good at breaking things and sometimes those things were corrosive and Hank got mad and worried at the same time and made these weird faces. He doesn’t go near Hank’s experiments while he wants to have a conversation anymore. Other times are kind of something else. He’s not exactly well-known for his sense of self-preservation.
“Yeah,” he says, because they are: A big blue freak, a social reject, a misunderstood gentle monster, an enigma, and a saint with gentle hands and a gentle heart; and an emotionless freak, a bomb set to explode at random intervals, a man no one ever tries to understand because all they see is the fucked up outside. “We should go together.”
That gets Hank to look up. “Pardon?”
“We should go together,” Alex repeats. “To prom.”
“You... really?” Hank’s staring at him now, eyes wide with disbelief behind his glasses. He looks like he’s waiting for a punch line at his expense, curled slightly inwards, lines of his body tensed minutely, like he’s trying to hide it.
“Really,” Alex answers with a tiny smile.
“Oh, I... okay.”
*
Alex pulls out a tux from who-knows-what for the dance. It still fits, which is what matters, and it’s easy enough to get it dry-cleaned for the “grand” event. Hank himself is wearing one of his political suits, which is just fine with Alex. They’re grown men, broken and messy, and they have no need to do anything extravagant.
“I figured a corsage would be dumb,” Alex says, standing at the door of Hank’s lab. Hank chuckles, adjusting his suit slightly before offering Alex his arm.
“It did seem rather frivolous,” he agrees, then takes a flower from the garden out of his pocket and stuffs it in Alex’s breast pocket, giving the pocket a firm pat. “There we go.”
“Did you seriously get me a flower?” Alex asks as he hooks his arm through Hank’s.
“I got you a flower,” Hank agrees. “Whatcha gonna do about it, tough boy?”
Alex laughs, the sound rasping and scratching along his throat. Hank grins down at him and takes him quietly to the mansion’s main hall where the Xavier Academy Prom is taking place.
There’s streamers everywhere and mood lights. The music is peppy and there’s more people crowded around the buffet table then there are dancing. The music goes straight through Alex’s bones, shaking them and he grimaces. Hank doesn’t seem to be enjoying it much more than him, but he stays put, stationing himself by the door to keep watch over the kids. Alex drags a chair over by him, then gives himself provision duty and braves the buffet table to get them juice and snacks.
The night creeps on slowly, miraculously without incident, and it’s not until the night’s winding down and people are starting to wander off to bed that the music slows down. The familiar sounds of a record crackle through the speakers, a slowly instrumental drifting out towards the ceiling; and then a deep, male voice warbles slowly through the room.
Kiss me once, then kiss me twice,
Then kiss me once again;
It’s been a long, long time.
Haven’t felt like this, my dear,
Since I can’t remember when;
It’s been a long, long time.
Hank pushes himself off the wall and holds a hand out to Alex, already staring at the dance floor. Alex stands, taking the offered hand and lets himself be led to the dance floor. Hank gathers him in close, taking one of his hands, free hand resting on the small of Alex’s back. Alex isn’t used to being the ‘woman’ in a dance, but they’re both fairly good dancers, and they fall into step easily enough.
You’ll never know how many dreams I dreamed about you,
Or just how empty they all seemed without you;
So kiss me once, then kiss me twice,
Then kiss me once again;
It’s been a long, long time.
The voice fades away to a slow interlude and Alex lets his head rest on Hank’s shoulder. It’s comfortable, and he’s never been that conscious of personal space anyway. Besides that, him and Hank have known each other forever, and it’s not like there’s many people left. He does spot Scott watching them from the stairs, though.
Kiss me once, then kiss me twice,
Then kiss me once again;
It’s been a long time.
Haven’t felt like this, my dear,
Since I can’t remember when;
It’s been a long, long time.
“This is a stupid song,” Hank says in his ear.
“Incredibly,” Alex agrees breezily. “1945,” he adds.
“Figures,” Hank says, then he leans down and kisses Alex on the mouth.
Long, long time...
Please read my Personal Disclaimer.
*
“What’s this doing on your wall?” Alex asks, thumbing the edge of a colourful poster (Xavier Academy 2011 Winter Prom! it declares in bright, cartoonish letters).
Hank looks over, gaze traveling slowly to the atrocity on his wall. He smiles softly. “Oh, that,” he shrugs, turning back to his experiments - Alex is pretty sure he’s blushing under all that fluff. “Prom’s coming up. I offered to chaperone.”
“Prom,” Alex echoes.
“Yeah. Didn’t have it while we were students. It’s pretty recent, I suppose.”
“Huh.” Alex lets his hand fall away from the poster and tucks his hands into his pockets. He guesses stuff like prom is one of those things that you do to try and feel normal, instead of just like a mutant. “You ever go to your high school prom?”
Hank snorts out a laugh. “No,” he says. “I was way too young. You?”
“Was in solitary before I even got there.”
That draws another laugh - a slightly bitter one - from Hank's throat. “Real pair we are, huh?” he remarks, still not looking away from whatever it is that he’s working on. Alex had learned pretty early on that he was really good at breaking things and sometimes those things were corrosive and Hank got mad and worried at the same time and made these weird faces. He doesn’t go near Hank’s experiments while he wants to have a conversation anymore. Other times are kind of something else. He’s not exactly well-known for his sense of self-preservation.
“Yeah,” he says, because they are: A big blue freak, a social reject, a misunderstood gentle monster, an enigma, and a saint with gentle hands and a gentle heart; and an emotionless freak, a bomb set to explode at random intervals, a man no one ever tries to understand because all they see is the fucked up outside. “We should go together.”
That gets Hank to look up. “Pardon?”
“We should go together,” Alex repeats. “To prom.”
“You... really?” Hank’s staring at him now, eyes wide with disbelief behind his glasses. He looks like he’s waiting for a punch line at his expense, curled slightly inwards, lines of his body tensed minutely, like he’s trying to hide it.
“Really,” Alex answers with a tiny smile.
“Oh, I... okay.”
*
Alex pulls out a tux from who-knows-what for the dance. It still fits, which is what matters, and it’s easy enough to get it dry-cleaned for the “grand” event. Hank himself is wearing one of his political suits, which is just fine with Alex. They’re grown men, broken and messy, and they have no need to do anything extravagant.
“I figured a corsage would be dumb,” Alex says, standing at the door of Hank’s lab. Hank chuckles, adjusting his suit slightly before offering Alex his arm.
“It did seem rather frivolous,” he agrees, then takes a flower from the garden out of his pocket and stuffs it in Alex’s breast pocket, giving the pocket a firm pat. “There we go.”
“Did you seriously get me a flower?” Alex asks as he hooks his arm through Hank’s.
“I got you a flower,” Hank agrees. “Whatcha gonna do about it, tough boy?”
Alex laughs, the sound rasping and scratching along his throat. Hank grins down at him and takes him quietly to the mansion’s main hall where the Xavier Academy Prom is taking place.
There’s streamers everywhere and mood lights. The music is peppy and there’s more people crowded around the buffet table then there are dancing. The music goes straight through Alex’s bones, shaking them and he grimaces. Hank doesn’t seem to be enjoying it much more than him, but he stays put, stationing himself by the door to keep watch over the kids. Alex drags a chair over by him, then gives himself provision duty and braves the buffet table to get them juice and snacks.
The night creeps on slowly, miraculously without incident, and it’s not until the night’s winding down and people are starting to wander off to bed that the music slows down. The familiar sounds of a record crackle through the speakers, a slowly instrumental drifting out towards the ceiling; and then a deep, male voice warbles slowly through the room.
Kiss me once, then kiss me twice,
Then kiss me once again;
It’s been a long, long time.
Haven’t felt like this, my dear,
Since I can’t remember when;
It’s been a long, long time.
Hank pushes himself off the wall and holds a hand out to Alex, already staring at the dance floor. Alex stands, taking the offered hand and lets himself be led to the dance floor. Hank gathers him in close, taking one of his hands, free hand resting on the small of Alex’s back. Alex isn’t used to being the ‘woman’ in a dance, but they’re both fairly good dancers, and they fall into step easily enough.
You’ll never know how many dreams I dreamed about you,
Or just how empty they all seemed without you;
So kiss me once, then kiss me twice,
Then kiss me once again;
It’s been a long, long time.
The voice fades away to a slow interlude and Alex lets his head rest on Hank’s shoulder. It’s comfortable, and he’s never been that conscious of personal space anyway. Besides that, him and Hank have known each other forever, and it’s not like there’s many people left. He does spot Scott watching them from the stairs, though.
Kiss me once, then kiss me twice,
Then kiss me once again;
It’s been a long time.
Haven’t felt like this, my dear,
Since I can’t remember when;
It’s been a long, long time.
“This is a stupid song,” Hank says in his ear.
“Incredibly,” Alex agrees breezily. “1945,” he adds.
“Figures,” Hank says, then he leans down and kisses Alex on the mouth.
Long, long time...