FIC: Can You Hear Me Now?
Jun. 21st, 2010 10:00 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ficwizeTitle: Can You Hear Me Now?
Fandom: X-men
Pairing: Hank McCoy/Abigail Brand
Warnings: Graphic sexual content
Rating: Adult
Summary: Hank is away and, to his surprise, finds that Abigail misses him.
Disclaimer: I do not own the X-men and I do not make any money from doing this.
A/N: This is written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
kink_bingo prompt: phone sex.
As always, feedback is welcome and appreciated.
*************
When his phone rang in the middle of the night, Hank glanced at the caller ID and was unsurprised to see Abigail's name flashing at him. Flipping it open, he spoke quietly into the receiver. "Don't you know its 2 am?"
"Did I wake you?" The amused skepticism in her voice gave Hank the mental picture of her making the expression she wore when she refused to consider the possibility that something she had done might be inconsiderate.
"No."
"I didn't think so." She hesitated for a moment and when she spoke again, her tone had changed and become slightly softer. "Where are you?"
"A hotel room," Hank answered honestly. "Southern California."
"Why aren't you sleeping?"
"I'm wondering if I made a mistake," Hank admitted.
"Leaving Utopia?"
"Yes." He paused. "And you."
"You left me?" Abigail sounded surprised and Hank couldn't quite keep himself from smiling.
"Only your immediate vicinity, my dear. Not your affections."
"Good, I was going to feel foolish calling you otherwise."
"Why did you call?" Hank sat up, the moonlight peeking in through the crack in the drapes. The bed sheet slid down to pool at his waist. The comforter lay folded at the foot of the bed. The evening's warmth made too many covers uncomfortably warm given his own fur coat.
Abigail stayed silent for a moment. "I wanted to know where you were."
"Abby," Hank chided gently. "Why did you call me?"
Her silence stretched even longer before she sighed. "I miss you."
"At 2 in the morning?"
"Yes," Abby answered as if it were that simple. "During the day, I can pretend that you'll be around at night. At night, you're just gone."
"I'm sorry," Hank offered genuinely. "I just need to figure things out."
"I want you in my bed," Abigail groused. "It's lonely without you. And less fun."
Hank felt a simultaneous pang at the rather uncharacteristic sentimentality from the notorious Agent Brand and smugness at the implication of her words. "Agent Brand, you're scandalous."
"Dr. McCoy, don't even pretend like you're scandalized."
"To the contrary, I'm feeling both missed and smug."
"What would it take to convince you to come back?" Abigail asked. "I have a lot of people at my beck and call. I can send a vehicle for you."
"I do not think that S.W.O.R.D.'s resources are best used to facilitate a mid-night assignation, Abigail."
"I think the term you want is 'booty-call', Hank." Abigail laughed at him again, her voice throaty and low. "This is just a good old fashioned booty-call."
The pang in his belly at her words had very little to do with sentimentality and Hank shifted uncomfortably. "You're hardly a few blocks away."
"No," Abigail agreed, pointedly and sullenly. "I'm near the moon and you're in some hotel in the middle of nowhere trying to track down mental peace and find yourself. I never took you for a beatnik before. You've been all over earth and the heavens, Hank. Do you really think that you'll find what you're looking for in Southern California?"
"I need to do this," Hank answered her quietly.
She stayed silent for a long time. "I know," she sighed. "It's just… space is cold."
"You just want to stick your feet on me to warm them up," Hank half-jokingly accused.
"I want to stick something somewhere," Abigail agreed. "But not my feet."
The tension in his belly ratcheted up a few notches and Hank cleared his throat. "Ahhh."
"At a loss for words, Dr. McCoy?" Abigail crowed. "I never thought I'd see the day. And all because I indicated that I wanted your dick inside me. Wouldn't you like that?"
"I do like that very much," Hank managed, sounding half strangled.
"I also like the way it feels when you undress me," Abigail lowered her voice and the sound of it curled around his ear. "I like the way your nails scratch at me, even through the cloth. I especially like it when I'm massaging your dick through your clothes and you're so turned on that I can feel your hand shaking, the fur on your fingers tickling against my skin."
"Abigail." Hank growled a warning, but his girlfriend had never been shy about saying what she thought, what she wanted or what she liked. This proved no different from any other time.
"Do you remember the one time that you were so frantic to touch me that you tore off my shirt?" Abigail asked. "That was so damn hot I nearly came right then. You were on the edge, Hank, and I wanted to push you off it and fall with you."
"I cut you with my nail."
"You scratched me," Abigail corrected. "I didn't tell you then, but I spent the whole week until it healed rubbing that scratch every time I masturbated."
"Woman," Hank breathed. "You are killing me."
"Am I?" Few people would have been able to pick up on the subtle hint of smugness in her voice, but Hank was one of them. He narrowed his eyes for no particular reason. Two could play at this game.
"Do you know what else you really like?" Hank rumbled. "You like it when I hold your hands down over your head to play with your breasts." The hitch in her breath confirmed his suspicion that she hadn't expected him to engage. "You throw your head back and moan like wind through the reeds. You even whimper when I nibble just so."
"I do not whimper," Abigail managed, but Hank ignored her. "You don't even try to pull your hands away, you just writhe under me, pushing your breasts up towards my mouth."
"You have a very talented tongue," Abigail complimented him and Hank chuckled.
"There are other places on your body that you also like my tongue." Her breathing grew distinctly ragged, making Hank ache in his groin. Fully aroused now, he reached down to stroke himself. "Are you touching yourself now Abigail?"
"Yes," she admitted, her voice shaking slightly. "Are you?"
"Yes."
"I like watching you touch yourself, Hank."
The admission caught him by surprise and he groaned into the phone receiver. "Do you?"
"Yes. Your hands, so dangerous in battle, so delicate as a doctor; I like watching the way you fondle yourself. I can always tell what you're really feeling. When you rub one finger over the tip of your penis, you're in a playful mood and I know that whatever I ask of you, you'll do."
"Never hesitate to ask something of me, Abby." Hank realized that he was stroking himself exactly the way she had described and bit his lip. He wasn't going to last long. "What would you ask me to do if I were there?"
"Fuck me," she replied instantly and Hank had to clench his hand around the base of his shaft to keep from orgasming immediately.
"Slower, my dear Abigail. Let's take our time. Good things to those who wait."
"You're always so good at that, too." The tremor in her voice grew more distinct. "You can turn me into a screaming pile of jelly."
"The better to lick you up," Hank managed. "You're a very responsive woman. You have a ticklish spot on your ribs that makes you squirm deliciously when I kiss it. You practically vibrate off the bed when I touch you between your legs." Her soft moan encouraged him to keep going and he stroked himself in time with her breaths. "You grab my hand and force me to your pace and it drives me mad with lust."
"Damn you for not being here with me," Abigail gasped.
"Then, when I can't take it anymore, you come right on my fingers. I like it when that happens, because I know that we're in for a long night."
"God, Hank." Abigail gasped. "Tell me more of what you like."
"I like to see you on top," Hank replied immediately. "Your breasts are flushed and your hair is wild around your shoulders. You look as powerful as Aphrodite when you ride me. I like when you fist your hands in the fur on my chest. I love it when you pull me up to kiss me, even as your legs pump you up and down, and when your tongue thrusts into my mouth, I can barely contain myself."
"And then you touch me," Abigail picked up the thread of the conversation and Hank's hand sped up. "You reach between us… and your fingers… find me…"
Hank groaned, his hand fisted around himself as he pumped madly, the sounds she made over the phone driving him mad.
"… and the whole world shatters… and I don't care… about anything anymore… but you…" Her words trailed off into a half gasping little scream that pushed Hank over the precipice. His orgasm spilled over his hand with a grunt as he listened to Abagail's shallow breathing.
After a moment, he remembered to reach for some tissues to clean himself up and he heard Abigail stir on the other end of the phone. "Hank?"
"Yes, Abigail?"
"Don't stay gone too long, okay?" The hint of need in her voice made her sound more vulnerable than Hank could ever recall.
"I promise I won't."
"Good night."
"It is now." Hank could almost hear her smile through the phone before he hung up. A pleasant warmth filled him and he lay back against the pillows, asleep almost before his head touched down. The last thought that crossed his mind was that he missed the feel of Abigail curled against his side.
Fandom: X-men
Pairing: Hank McCoy/Abigail Brand
Warnings: Graphic sexual content
Rating: Adult
Summary: Hank is away and, to his surprise, finds that Abigail misses him.
Disclaimer: I do not own the X-men and I do not make any money from doing this.
A/N: This is written for
kink_bingo prompt: phone sex.As always, feedback is welcome and appreciated.
*************
When his phone rang in the middle of the night, Hank glanced at the caller ID and was unsurprised to see Abigail's name flashing at him. Flipping it open, he spoke quietly into the receiver. "Don't you know its 2 am?"
"Did I wake you?" The amused skepticism in her voice gave Hank the mental picture of her making the expression she wore when she refused to consider the possibility that something she had done might be inconsiderate.
"No."
"I didn't think so." She hesitated for a moment and when she spoke again, her tone had changed and become slightly softer. "Where are you?"
"A hotel room," Hank answered honestly. "Southern California."
"Why aren't you sleeping?"
"I'm wondering if I made a mistake," Hank admitted.
"Leaving Utopia?"
"Yes." He paused. "And you."
"You left me?" Abigail sounded surprised and Hank couldn't quite keep himself from smiling.
"Only your immediate vicinity, my dear. Not your affections."
"Good, I was going to feel foolish calling you otherwise."
"Why did you call?" Hank sat up, the moonlight peeking in through the crack in the drapes. The bed sheet slid down to pool at his waist. The comforter lay folded at the foot of the bed. The evening's warmth made too many covers uncomfortably warm given his own fur coat.
Abigail stayed silent for a moment. "I wanted to know where you were."
"Abby," Hank chided gently. "Why did you call me?"
Her silence stretched even longer before she sighed. "I miss you."
"At 2 in the morning?"
"Yes," Abby answered as if it were that simple. "During the day, I can pretend that you'll be around at night. At night, you're just gone."
"I'm sorry," Hank offered genuinely. "I just need to figure things out."
"I want you in my bed," Abigail groused. "It's lonely without you. And less fun."
Hank felt a simultaneous pang at the rather uncharacteristic sentimentality from the notorious Agent Brand and smugness at the implication of her words. "Agent Brand, you're scandalous."
"Dr. McCoy, don't even pretend like you're scandalized."
"To the contrary, I'm feeling both missed and smug."
"What would it take to convince you to come back?" Abigail asked. "I have a lot of people at my beck and call. I can send a vehicle for you."
"I do not think that S.W.O.R.D.'s resources are best used to facilitate a mid-night assignation, Abigail."
"I think the term you want is 'booty-call', Hank." Abigail laughed at him again, her voice throaty and low. "This is just a good old fashioned booty-call."
The pang in his belly at her words had very little to do with sentimentality and Hank shifted uncomfortably. "You're hardly a few blocks away."
"No," Abigail agreed, pointedly and sullenly. "I'm near the moon and you're in some hotel in the middle of nowhere trying to track down mental peace and find yourself. I never took you for a beatnik before. You've been all over earth and the heavens, Hank. Do you really think that you'll find what you're looking for in Southern California?"
"I need to do this," Hank answered her quietly.
She stayed silent for a long time. "I know," she sighed. "It's just… space is cold."
"You just want to stick your feet on me to warm them up," Hank half-jokingly accused.
"I want to stick something somewhere," Abigail agreed. "But not my feet."
The tension in his belly ratcheted up a few notches and Hank cleared his throat. "Ahhh."
"At a loss for words, Dr. McCoy?" Abigail crowed. "I never thought I'd see the day. And all because I indicated that I wanted your dick inside me. Wouldn't you like that?"
"I do like that very much," Hank managed, sounding half strangled.
"I also like the way it feels when you undress me," Abigail lowered her voice and the sound of it curled around his ear. "I like the way your nails scratch at me, even through the cloth. I especially like it when I'm massaging your dick through your clothes and you're so turned on that I can feel your hand shaking, the fur on your fingers tickling against my skin."
"Abigail." Hank growled a warning, but his girlfriend had never been shy about saying what she thought, what she wanted or what she liked. This proved no different from any other time.
"Do you remember the one time that you were so frantic to touch me that you tore off my shirt?" Abigail asked. "That was so damn hot I nearly came right then. You were on the edge, Hank, and I wanted to push you off it and fall with you."
"I cut you with my nail."
"You scratched me," Abigail corrected. "I didn't tell you then, but I spent the whole week until it healed rubbing that scratch every time I masturbated."
"Woman," Hank breathed. "You are killing me."
"Am I?" Few people would have been able to pick up on the subtle hint of smugness in her voice, but Hank was one of them. He narrowed his eyes for no particular reason. Two could play at this game.
"Do you know what else you really like?" Hank rumbled. "You like it when I hold your hands down over your head to play with your breasts." The hitch in her breath confirmed his suspicion that she hadn't expected him to engage. "You throw your head back and moan like wind through the reeds. You even whimper when I nibble just so."
"I do not whimper," Abigail managed, but Hank ignored her. "You don't even try to pull your hands away, you just writhe under me, pushing your breasts up towards my mouth."
"You have a very talented tongue," Abigail complimented him and Hank chuckled.
"There are other places on your body that you also like my tongue." Her breathing grew distinctly ragged, making Hank ache in his groin. Fully aroused now, he reached down to stroke himself. "Are you touching yourself now Abigail?"
"Yes," she admitted, her voice shaking slightly. "Are you?"
"Yes."
"I like watching you touch yourself, Hank."
The admission caught him by surprise and he groaned into the phone receiver. "Do you?"
"Yes. Your hands, so dangerous in battle, so delicate as a doctor; I like watching the way you fondle yourself. I can always tell what you're really feeling. When you rub one finger over the tip of your penis, you're in a playful mood and I know that whatever I ask of you, you'll do."
"Never hesitate to ask something of me, Abby." Hank realized that he was stroking himself exactly the way she had described and bit his lip. He wasn't going to last long. "What would you ask me to do if I were there?"
"Fuck me," she replied instantly and Hank had to clench his hand around the base of his shaft to keep from orgasming immediately.
"Slower, my dear Abigail. Let's take our time. Good things to those who wait."
"You're always so good at that, too." The tremor in her voice grew more distinct. "You can turn me into a screaming pile of jelly."
"The better to lick you up," Hank managed. "You're a very responsive woman. You have a ticklish spot on your ribs that makes you squirm deliciously when I kiss it. You practically vibrate off the bed when I touch you between your legs." Her soft moan encouraged him to keep going and he stroked himself in time with her breaths. "You grab my hand and force me to your pace and it drives me mad with lust."
"Damn you for not being here with me," Abigail gasped.
"Then, when I can't take it anymore, you come right on my fingers. I like it when that happens, because I know that we're in for a long night."
"God, Hank." Abigail gasped. "Tell me more of what you like."
"I like to see you on top," Hank replied immediately. "Your breasts are flushed and your hair is wild around your shoulders. You look as powerful as Aphrodite when you ride me. I like when you fist your hands in the fur on my chest. I love it when you pull me up to kiss me, even as your legs pump you up and down, and when your tongue thrusts into my mouth, I can barely contain myself."
"And then you touch me," Abigail picked up the thread of the conversation and Hank's hand sped up. "You reach between us… and your fingers… find me…"
Hank groaned, his hand fisted around himself as he pumped madly, the sounds she made over the phone driving him mad.
"… and the whole world shatters… and I don't care… about anything anymore… but you…" Her words trailed off into a half gasping little scream that pushed Hank over the precipice. His orgasm spilled over his hand with a grunt as he listened to Abagail's shallow breathing.
After a moment, he remembered to reach for some tissues to clean himself up and he heard Abigail stir on the other end of the phone. "Hank?"
"Yes, Abigail?"
"Don't stay gone too long, okay?" The hint of need in her voice made her sound more vulnerable than Hank could ever recall.
"I promise I won't."
"Good night."
"It is now." Hank could almost hear her smile through the phone before he hung up. A pleasant warmth filled him and he lay back against the pillows, asleep almost before his head touched down. The last thought that crossed his mind was that he missed the feel of Abigail curled against his side.
