Fic: Flip You for It
Oct. 3rd, 2011 05:43 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sabinelagrandeTitle: Flip You for It
Summary: Charles and Erik fight it out.
Fandom: X-Men: First Class
Word Count: 1015
Rating/Contents: NC-17, wrestling, mind control
Pairing: Charles/Erik
Policies: Read my archiving, feedback, and warnings policies here.
A/N: Sometimes a story springs fully formed into my brain. I have never wrestled before, so this is probably ridic wrong, but hopefully it's hot.
Erik pulls his shirt off, tossing it away; they're both in nothing but shorts, and he's momentarily distracted looking at Charles. "Ground rules?"
"No use of our gifts during the match," Charles says. "Winner may use his afterwards. No points for forcing your opponent off the mat. Takedowns require a four count." He grins. "I'd say no groin shots, but I think we're both interested enough in that area to refrain."
"Quite," Erik says with a smirk. "Are you ready?"
Charles laces his fingers together, stretching out his arms. "As I'll ever be." He takes up a wrestler's stance on one side of the mat, and Erik mirrors him, knees bent, arms out.
"On three," Erik says. "One, two-"
"Three," Charles says, and he charges at Erik, going for his midsection; Erik is too fast for him, ducking neatly to the side before he can get his hands on him. That's fine with Charles, who catches Erik from behind, trying to get him into a full nelson. Erik twists, breaking the hold and away from Charles, squaring off against him again.
Erik leads this time, but Charles catches his hands before he can get too close. They grapple, but Erik has the advantage in upper body strength; he manages to force Charles onto his knees. After that, it's a simple matter to come in from the side and slam him onto the mat.
"One, two-" Erik starts, but before three Charles is out, rolling away from him. Charles grins at him, and Erik grins back; this is a better match than he expected out of Charles.
The distraction turns out to be a ruse; it buys Charles the split second he needs to go for Erik again, pushing him backwards and onto the mat. He lands between Erik's spread legs, which is all Erik needs to roll them over; he wraps his legs around Charles's thighs and uses them for leverage, rubbing his stiff cock up against Charles's for good measure.
Erik is on top now, but Charles surges forward, hard enough that it surprises Erik, and Erik ends up flat on his back again, the wind knocked out of him. Charles takes advantage of the moment to pin Erik by his shoulders.
"One, two, three, and four," Charles counts slowly, and after four he takes his hands away, but Erik can't move.
"Well done," Erik says, and his arms move up over his head, his wrists pressed in hard, Charles holding him down with his mind.
"Thank you," Charles says breathlessly. "I thought you had me there for a minute."
"And now you can do whatever you like," Erik says suggestively.
"Oh, believe me, I intend to," Charles says, smirking. He climbs off of Erik, reaching for his water bottle and drinking messily, making Erik wait it out. He puts down his water and strips out of his shorts; there's a bottle of oil beside the mat, and he picks it up, tossing his lightly from hand to hand.
He sets it down next to Erik and slowly pulls Erik's shorts down, revealing his cock little by little; Charles licks his lips unconsciously, and Erik's entranced by the sight of his tongue. Charles throws Erik's shorts away, leaving his hands free to run up Erik's thighs and over his cock.
Erik is expecting- wanting, needing- Charles to push his legs apart and take him, but Charles surprises him, straddling Erik's hips and picking up the oil. He uncaps it, dripping it over his fingers and onto Erik's stomach; he kneels up so that he can reach behind himself.
"You did say," Charles says; he breaks off to groan, and Erik knows he's sliding those fingers inside himself, wishes he could see, "that I could do anything I like."
"You'll get no complaints from me," Erik says, watching him eagerly. Charles spends a long time just fucking himself on his fingers, making Erik watch him do it; Erik wants nothing more than to be inside him, but it's all up to Charles. Charles can draw this out as long as he wants- and part of Erik hopes he does.
Charles leans down, kissing him hungrily as he fumbles for the bottle again. He pours the oil over Erik's cock, slicking him up hastily, and then he's taking Erik in, his head thrown back as he pushes all the way down. Erik's hands move without him again, settling themselves on Charles's waist, and Charles uses them for support as he starts to ride Erik, good and hard. Erik's more than ready for it; this has all been one big, mutual tease, and Erik's not going to last at all.
Erik moves his hips experimentally, finding them still under this control; Charles makes a choked off noise as he starts to thrust up into Charles's ass. "Oh, god, Erik," Charles says, wrapping a hand around his cock as Erik fucks him, as he fucks Erik. "You're so- harder, Erik."
Erik can't resist an invitation like that, pounding into him, Charles meeting him thrust for thrust. "Right there," Charles moans, "right there- right- right now," and Erik pushes up one more time and comes, Charles following after him, shaking and crying out.
They're both panting and worn out, dripping sweat; Charles kisses him, pressing their foreheads together before climbing off of Erik and reaching for his clothing. Erik just watches him for a moment, putting his hands behind his head and admiring. Dressed, Charles offers him a hand, and Erik lets Charles lever him up. Erik pulls on his clothes and helps Charles wipe down the mat before rolling it up and putting it in the corner of the practice room.
Charles leans over, kissing him soundly. "Next time, don't let me win."
Erik's grin is wicked. "Don't worry," he says. "I won't."
This entry was automagically crossposted from http://sabinetzin.dreamwidth.org/342438.html.
comments over there.
Summary: Charles and Erik fight it out.
Fandom: X-Men: First Class
Word Count: 1015
Rating/Contents: NC-17, wrestling, mind control
Pairing: Charles/Erik
Policies: Read my archiving, feedback, and warnings policies here.
A/N: Sometimes a story springs fully formed into my brain. I have never wrestled before, so this is probably ridic wrong, but hopefully it's hot.
Erik pulls his shirt off, tossing it away; they're both in nothing but shorts, and he's momentarily distracted looking at Charles. "Ground rules?"
"No use of our gifts during the match," Charles says. "Winner may use his afterwards. No points for forcing your opponent off the mat. Takedowns require a four count." He grins. "I'd say no groin shots, but I think we're both interested enough in that area to refrain."
"Quite," Erik says with a smirk. "Are you ready?"
Charles laces his fingers together, stretching out his arms. "As I'll ever be." He takes up a wrestler's stance on one side of the mat, and Erik mirrors him, knees bent, arms out.
"On three," Erik says. "One, two-"
"Three," Charles says, and he charges at Erik, going for his midsection; Erik is too fast for him, ducking neatly to the side before he can get his hands on him. That's fine with Charles, who catches Erik from behind, trying to get him into a full nelson. Erik twists, breaking the hold and away from Charles, squaring off against him again.
Erik leads this time, but Charles catches his hands before he can get too close. They grapple, but Erik has the advantage in upper body strength; he manages to force Charles onto his knees. After that, it's a simple matter to come in from the side and slam him onto the mat.
"One, two-" Erik starts, but before three Charles is out, rolling away from him. Charles grins at him, and Erik grins back; this is a better match than he expected out of Charles.
The distraction turns out to be a ruse; it buys Charles the split second he needs to go for Erik again, pushing him backwards and onto the mat. He lands between Erik's spread legs, which is all Erik needs to roll them over; he wraps his legs around Charles's thighs and uses them for leverage, rubbing his stiff cock up against Charles's for good measure.
Erik is on top now, but Charles surges forward, hard enough that it surprises Erik, and Erik ends up flat on his back again, the wind knocked out of him. Charles takes advantage of the moment to pin Erik by his shoulders.
"One, two, three, and four," Charles counts slowly, and after four he takes his hands away, but Erik can't move.
"Well done," Erik says, and his arms move up over his head, his wrists pressed in hard, Charles holding him down with his mind.
"Thank you," Charles says breathlessly. "I thought you had me there for a minute."
"And now you can do whatever you like," Erik says suggestively.
"Oh, believe me, I intend to," Charles says, smirking. He climbs off of Erik, reaching for his water bottle and drinking messily, making Erik wait it out. He puts down his water and strips out of his shorts; there's a bottle of oil beside the mat, and he picks it up, tossing his lightly from hand to hand.
He sets it down next to Erik and slowly pulls Erik's shorts down, revealing his cock little by little; Charles licks his lips unconsciously, and Erik's entranced by the sight of his tongue. Charles throws Erik's shorts away, leaving his hands free to run up Erik's thighs and over his cock.
Erik is expecting- wanting, needing- Charles to push his legs apart and take him, but Charles surprises him, straddling Erik's hips and picking up the oil. He uncaps it, dripping it over his fingers and onto Erik's stomach; he kneels up so that he can reach behind himself.
"You did say," Charles says; he breaks off to groan, and Erik knows he's sliding those fingers inside himself, wishes he could see, "that I could do anything I like."
"You'll get no complaints from me," Erik says, watching him eagerly. Charles spends a long time just fucking himself on his fingers, making Erik watch him do it; Erik wants nothing more than to be inside him, but it's all up to Charles. Charles can draw this out as long as he wants- and part of Erik hopes he does.
Charles leans down, kissing him hungrily as he fumbles for the bottle again. He pours the oil over Erik's cock, slicking him up hastily, and then he's taking Erik in, his head thrown back as he pushes all the way down. Erik's hands move without him again, settling themselves on Charles's waist, and Charles uses them for support as he starts to ride Erik, good and hard. Erik's more than ready for it; this has all been one big, mutual tease, and Erik's not going to last at all.
Erik moves his hips experimentally, finding them still under this control; Charles makes a choked off noise as he starts to thrust up into Charles's ass. "Oh, god, Erik," Charles says, wrapping a hand around his cock as Erik fucks him, as he fucks Erik. "You're so- harder, Erik."
Erik can't resist an invitation like that, pounding into him, Charles meeting him thrust for thrust. "Right there," Charles moans, "right there- right- right now," and Erik pushes up one more time and comes, Charles following after him, shaking and crying out.
They're both panting and worn out, dripping sweat; Charles kisses him, pressing their foreheads together before climbing off of Erik and reaching for his clothing. Erik just watches him for a moment, putting his hands behind his head and admiring. Dressed, Charles offers him a hand, and Erik lets Charles lever him up. Erik pulls on his clothes and helps Charles wipe down the mat before rolling it up and putting it in the corner of the practice room.
Charles leans over, kissing him soundly. "Next time, don't let me win."
Erik's grin is wicked. "Don't worry," he says. "I won't."
This entry was automagically crossposted from http://sabinetzin.dreamwidth.org/342438.html.
