Alex's eyes open, and the light wakes him up. He blinks, confused, at the wedge of brightness spilling from the door creaking open under his hand -- the Professor's door, he remembers from Raven's tour -- maybe he's still dreaming --
Come in, he hears, not in the silent dark hallway but inside his head, and the door falls open as his feet carry him into the room. The Professor's sitting room. What the Hell, Alex thinks, or tries to, but the flare of alarm gutters and dies like an air-starved fire as he watches himself walk forward steadily, watches his hand stretch out to push the bedroom door open --
Professor Xavier sits on the edge of his bed in front of Mr. Lehnsherr, who's sprawled across it, handcuffed to the headboard's ornate scrollwork, a checked tie wrapped across his eyes. They're both naked, and the professor strokes himself lazily as he smiles, foreskin sliding back and forth under his hand. "Come now, you know our names. Charles and Erik will do. Please shut the door."
This is wrong, Alex thinks with no more heat than I could use a soda. He's freaking out, somewhere far down below, far beyond his fingers flicking the door shut and the spin on his heel as he turns to face Charles again, the pale hungry light in Charles's eyes as Alex strips off his tee and shucks his boxers. This is wrong, this isn't why Alex is here, he doesn't want to be that punk anymore, but all his fearful reluctance flutters like a fire in an airtight box, smothering as the box crushes down to a cold solid lump.
Alex feels himself step forward like he's not in control, like he's dreaming, but the carpet is thick and scratchy-soft under his knees as he sinks down beside the bed, Charles's thighs are solid and firm alongside his shoulders, and Erik lies behind Charles breathing evenly as Alex looks up, as his hands settle on lightly hairy soft skin.
"Go on then, my little rentboy," Charles says just as encouragingly as when he tells Alex he can master what Darwin called his 'gift', and Alex's heart thumps triple-time, he thinks of Darwin smiling at him and rings of fire destroying that statue and he could blast one now, destroy this bed and get away -- but Charles's fingertips ruffle through his hair, and Darwin's face fades from behind his eyes, leaving his head empty of everything except the warm musk rising off Charles's skin and the water rising in Alex's mouth.
So he bends his neck under Charles's hand, under Charles's warm confidence that he can do what he's told, and he fills his mouth with Charles's dick, sucking evenly on the length he can take in, wrapping his fingers around the rest. Charles sighs long and lavishly, and Erik keeps breathing through his nose, in out in, and Alex should be remembering showers and concrete and -- things he'd rather not remember, his mind feels good gone blank, he thinks of nothing but the hand cupping the back of his neck and the long curve of dick heavy on his tongue.
"Mmm, you're good, you're so good, I hope your rates were high," Charles moans above him, and Alex's mouth comes off him with a wet pop. "What a lovely taste," and Charles takes a deep breath, "but first things first. There's Vaseline on the nightstand, go on, slick Erik up and climb on."
Crawling onto the bed, Alex reaches out and the Vaseline floats up above him, moved by Erik's power. He takes hold of it and feels Erik let its weight go, looks down at Erik spread long and lean across the bed, just breathing and waiting. Unlike Charles he's cut, his dick beaded with wetness at the tip, and Alex's fingers are already inside the jar. He stares at them, coated with Vaseline, and watches them reach forward and close around Erik's dick, feels him tremble as Alex strokes him slickly, greasing him root to tip.
"Wait," Charles purrs behind him, and Alex freezes. "Should he prepare himself too, do you think? Or would a little burn be better?"
"Charles," is all Erik says, gravelly and strangled. Charles laughs and Alex is moving again, swinging his leg across Erik's hips. This is gonna hurt, whispers a thread of worry, but he just leans forward, planting his hand on soft rumpled bedsheets, reaches back and spreads his own cheeks as he backs up until Erik's dick is nudging tightly between them.
"Have you guessed yet?" Charles asks mildly with that teacher-voice, and Erik rumbles from between clenched teeth, the muscles stark in his jaw and outstretched arms. Alex gasps and shoves back hard, a scream choked off in his throat as it sears into him, hot stretching pressure filling him, too fast, too fast.
"Mmm, more," Charles suggests, soft and undeniable, and Alex rocks, spearing himself as deep as he can go, Erik shuddering beneath him like a rockslide. "Beautiful," Alex hears over the squelching slide of fist on cock, and he grits his teeth and drops to his hands again, shoving back and forth, fucking himself on Erik's dick. It drags out of him and he groans and plunges backwards again, it shoves into him and he whimpers and tips forward, pulling himself up off it; somewhere in there he closes his eyes tight, staring at the red-edged darkness behind his eyelids, the crackling flare each time he slams it home and the gasping emptiness as he pulls up.
Erik is panting now, in time with Alex's thrusts, and Charles is frankly moaning, "Yes," and "More," and "Tilt your hips." Alex does and the impact knocks a hoarse cry out of him, it feels even deeper, setting off shockwaves that threaten to shake him apart. "Like that," Charles orders and Alex does it again, overwhelming sensation threaded with agony, and again, shuddering so hard his teeth chatter, and again, feeling it in the back of his throat.
Again, and again, until Erik growls beneath him, "Alex," slamming his hips up, and Alex's arms give out as he screams, collapsing to Erik's hard chest as Erik pulses into him, groaning raggedly.
"Gorgeous," Alex hears, and shoves his eyes open. Charles is stroking himself hard with one hand, sucking on two fingers of the other -- everything Alex has heard has been in his head, and the realization wrenches something deep inside him. Come here, he hears now, and Erik grips his waist, the handcuffs swinging from Erik's wrists to knock against his hips, and shoves him off, jerking free of his body. Alex tumbles, arms falling wide as the handcuffs twist off Erik's wrists, hovering overhead; Erik shoves the tie off up his eyes, his grin wide and toothy, and Alex has one moment to think a desperate pleading no not the cuffs no before the two pairs of cuffs close around his wrists, looping through the scrollwork, tying him down with his forearms crossed.
Alex knows how to curse, filthy and furious, but he can't. He can only blink and gasp as Charles leans over him, one soft hand settling on his cheek, one tightening on his hip. "Well done," Charles says so warmly Alex's eyes sting, but his knees are pulling up, his legs falling open, and he feels Charles press against his sore hole, then inside him. What a lovely creature you are, echoes inside his head as he stares up at Charles red-faced and puffing over him, as Charles fucks him hard enough to shake him ass to head to toe as his arms strain against the cuffs, as Erik simply watches, head propped on his hand, eyes cool and mouth a thin shut line. How satisfied your clients were with this hot little ass. What a pity if you really went and took it off the market.
Somewhere far down inside Alex wants to shout and blast himself free, holler that he's not a hooker anymore, he's no one's boytoy anymore, he's not, he's not, but all of that flattens under a huge expanding nothing, smashed under the sensation of being filled stroke by stroke, tingling-sore under Charles's heavy rapid thrusts. Charles grins at him openmouthed, and though he wasn't even hard Alex comes suddenly with the force of a haymaker punch, teeth rattling, clenching tight around Charles slamming inside him. Charles groans loudly and comes too, rocking his hips against Alex with each pulse like he can get even deeper into him.
Charles slumps onto Alex, panting in his ear, draping one hand across Alex's forearms. The cuffs fall open and Charles curls his hand around Alex's wrist, rubbing it soothingly as Alex lies gasping beneath Charles's weight on his chest. Eventually Charles gets his knees underneath him, pulls out and pushes up, looking Alex over with careful eyes until Alex shuts his and turns his face away. He feels worked over, hard used. He tries to say as much but his mouth won't open.
Soft lips press to his temple, and Alex hears, Look at me. He does -- he can't do anything else -- and Charles is smiling proudly down at him, and Erik is still just impassively watching. Thank you, Charles tells him silently, looking into his eyes, and Alex feels warm all over and doesn't know if he's pleased or pissed. You wanted to give that to Darwin, didn't you? Alex shuts his eyes tight again, but there's nowhere to go, no hiding from Charles's voice. He would have loved it, too. What a lovely pair you would have made. But we can't have you languishing away by yourself, can we? What a waste that would be.
Alex's eyes open again, and Charles kisses him on the lips, still thinking at him the whole time. Tomorrow after dinner, take Sean to the bunker and seduce him, vigorously. Alex gasps, and Charles slides a sly tongue into his mouth. When you're quite done, whisper in his ear 'The Professor needs you' and then forget you said so. Got it?
Charles lets him up, from the kiss, from the bed, and Alex staggers to his feet, sticky and sweaty and sore. "Go get some sleep," Charles says aloud, warm and kindly, "Tonight's just a dream, and tomorrow's another busy day."
All Alex can do is nod and bend stiffly to pick up his clothes, pull them on and wobble out the door.
Sean opens his eyes -- where is he even, what the hell -- and sees a round rubber ball with straps floating in front of him, held up by its buckles. Beyond it the Professor lies stretched out on a huge bed, blindfolded and handcuffed to the headboard, and Mr. Lehnsherr sits in front of him, legs crossed and strips of shiny metal whirling around his upraised hand. And they're both naked.
Sean opens his mouth to say something like 'Hell no' or 'please no' or 'Alex and I just hooked up in the training room, I'm all fucked out for tonight,' and the ball flies into his open mouth, buckling behind his head. Mr. Lehnsherr grins, wide and toothy, and beckons, and Sean's zippers and snaps drag him forward through the doorway, the buckle of the gag pressing like a hand on the back of his head. "Good evening," Mr. Lehnsherr says, his voice smooth and deep, "won't you shut the door?"