Disclaimer: Nope. Don't Own it.

He has no idea.

He has no idea.

Alex Summers thought, frustrated. He squirmed in his seat, turned another page of his book, and bit his lip. His cheeks burned painfully, heart beating at an irregular rhythm, as something throbbed inside him. His breaths hitched.

Goddamn it. I can't. How does he expect me to do anything in this state?

It was a lazy summer afternoon, and as the word "lazy" suggested, Alex would have preferred a much, ahem, relaxing activity with a certain fellow mutant than any of this—rubbish studying.

Taking the queue that they were all pretty much exhausted from training days, the Professor had organized a short 'intermediate,' study session. In what he'd managed to summarize in his mind, Charles insisted they learned to become well-mannered, educated mutants, as opposed to the mutants carved out for simply survival and nothing else that Erik suggested. So the Academy ended up having to balance both kinds of enrichment.

The burden fell onto them, "the kids," in Charles's word.

Hank was probably the only one of them content enough to sitting still and absorbing information from some age-old book. Sean he had seen sneaking out with Darwin to play some Ultimate (Mutant) Frisbee. Raven was gossipping with Angel about something (he could care less) in the corner of the kitchen.

Trust Charles to be the one to allow Erik to supervise them when he's off somewhere else. Told to "study wherever you like," and off they went.

In the immutability of their surroundings the foreign blah… changing immensity of blah... sense of blah….; for there is nothing….blah…inscrutable as blah…

The printed words of Conrad's Heart of Darkness (required reading, as assigned by Charles, and, surprisingly enough, happened to be one of Hank's favorite books) blurred before his eyes. Alex realized his thin interest had waned by the time he started skipping large chunks of words in the paragraph (did this guy ever space his paragraphs? Why are his damn paragraphs so long?), and subsitutiting the words with "blah," what he actually felt like saying to them. He shuffled uncomfortably in his seat—the one-seat sofa in the living room where Erik and Charles occupied for their nightly chess games (which they—the mutants—mutally suspected to involve more than chess pieces). His was Erik's seat, and sitting directly opposite him, a few feet away in Charles's, was the source of his distraction, in material form.

Hank McCoy.

As boring and dreary as the book's words were to him, he could probably stand flipping a few pages more, but his eyes (growing watery from constant, irresistible yawning) kept wandering to the other guy in the room—his own personal nerd companion.

It's not just Hank's presence that was bothering him. It's his glasses. Those. Damn. Glasses.

Alex didn't know it before, and he clearly wasn't aware of why, but it was only with those glasses that had evoked this kind of –he wouldn't say, except he'd overhead Raven whispered animatedly about it some nights ago—ugh, lovesick effect on him.

Lovesick? For Bozo the Bigfoot? Caused by a pair of ordinary glasses?

Fuck his mind.

Oh, God. No. Not that word. Not that word when he was just dying to pull Hank over, throw that book to hell-knows-where, and right then and there have his way with the scientist.

Teach him to be so nerdy.

Alex coughed at the very mental images flowing through his mind, hand rubbing his knee.

To touch that face, put his lips close to—

Awkward.

It was then that Hank abruptly ceased his reading, lowered his book down, and peered at Alex through the rim of his glasses, when Alex thought he'd finally lost his patience.

"Alex?" asked Hank, his voice innocent and unaware of the effect he had on the fellow mutant, "You ok?"

Oh sweet obliviousity. The pain. The pain! He just couldn't get it in his head already!

No, Hank, I'm not fucking okay. I could be, if you put away those glasses of yours. But since they are visibly annoyingly still on, so don't ever think I will. I'm not fucking okay, when I want to ease the distance between us, walk to you, and show you what a damn good time you could have with me. Starting with—

He managed a suspicious series of short, interrupted breaths, "Fine, absolutely…uh, swell."

Swell. Someone preferably smarter than Hank—hell, anyone at all in this mansion—would get the hint right away. He was close to fine as Hank's lips was close to his own. The word was out of some classic volume he'd read when he was a kid, so out of place, out of time, out of—character. So fucking not him.

Hank could be so dumb for such a smartass that he was.

Satisfied with Alex's short, blunt reply, Hank gave a small nod, a faint smile playing on his lips, as he adjusted his glasses and resumed his reading.

That's right. Please go on torturing me, you beast. Just. Get. Out. Already.

Alex's hands had balled up into fists of their own accord, his book dropped on the table beside him.

He kicked an invisible Hank on the rug at his foot in a show of desperate frustration.

And then….a switch went off in his mind.

Fuck it, what the hell.

Alex got to his feet, Hank in the process of clumsily putting his book down, alarmed by Alex's sudden action.

"No, you know what," Alex said, (Finally, roared his mind) his voice louder than he'd thought he would be able to say, "I'm not."

Hank's mouth fell open.

Alex took large steps towards the mutant opposite him, whose eyes now locked onto his, in fear of anticipating the approaching attacker's actions.

What seemed a short distance between them stretched as a long way to Alex.

"I'm not fucking okay just sitting there (Alex reached Hank's side), and watching you being so (He clasped Hank's shoulders, now towering over him) comfortable (His teeth gritted firmly at the words), just…reading."

Alex leaned down so his face was level with Hank's. Their eyes met. "You'd never expect, and I have no hell of an idea—"

Hank looked up, his frozen, startled state thawing. "I—I—what do you suppose I could do about it?" he mumbled, fingers fumbling with the air, and refused to meet Alex's steady stare.

Alex licked his lips. "—that I'd find those stupid glasses of yours," he whispered into Hank's left ear, a tinge of delight rising within him when he felt the boy shudder at his hot breaths trickling Hank's neck, "So. Damn. Hot."

The blonde placed small, open-mouthed kisses on his target's neck with each word.

Good. Good. Hank was experiencing the torture that had plagued him just half an hour ago. Revenge had never tasted sweeter.

His hand knotted Hank's hair, the other roaming down his body, while his lips busied themselves peppering kisses on his forehead, neck, and lips. He chuckled inwardly at hearing Hank gasp and utter a weak whimper in response to his work.

Delicious. Every bit of him. How could he have left this piece of heaven untouched before?

Just when he had cupped Hank's cheeks, about to lean in closer, the tips of their noses brushing, that Hank's hands caught hold of his own. "Alex." Shivers run through his body like electric shocks when he'd realized how breathless Hank sounded. Because of him. And saying his name.

"Alex," Hank said again, softer this this, hand tilting Alex's face to look at him, "We can't—we've got to study. I've got to study, remember what Charles—"

Alex silenced him, his lips closed on Hank's, savoring the long-awaited kiss, whispering, "No, we don't. No, no…we don't. The hell you have to study. A bunch of lies…"

A couple of kisses along Hank's jawline, and he was speechless for good.

"Well," Hank managed, in between kisses, "You still do."

Alex grinned, hand drawing a lazy circle on Hank's arm, "Not when I'm with you." He nuzzled his neck. "And besides, you could always teach me."

The scientist sighed, giving up to his stubborn student.

"Right?" Alex asked, a soft, playful whisper, his eyes taking in the whole of Hank's body. "Right?"

Hank smiled in response, clasping Alex's head closer, easing the distance between their lips. "If you'll promise to be this good."

"Always," Alex replied, satisfied, "Always."

Just keep your damn glasses on, Professor.


A/N: Very much affected by glasses fetish myself XD.

(A fill for LJ Prompt)

More Alex/Hank one-shots coming soon,

Big Thank You's to everyone who's clicked on this story, stopped by, review, and read

Love you all,

Your Ever Humble Fanfic Writer :)