Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/662041.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      X-Men:_First_Class_(2011)_RPF
  Relationship:
      Michael_Fassbender/James_McAvoy
  Character:
      Michael_Fassbender, James_McAvoy
  Additional Tags:
      BDSM, Handcuffs, Gloves, Spanking
  Stats:
      Published: 2011-09-05 Words: 3036
****** Lessons His Teacher Gave ******
by 3988Akasha
Summary
     As a follow up to  
     [[info]]
sjpheartshim's DD story found here and here, (which if you haven't already
read, you should for the context of the story) Michael decides to follow
through with his punishment and teach James a lesson they'll never forget.
Notes
     This story completely got away from me. It was meant to just be a
     quick, oooh they had sex thing, but it just kept going. A picture of
     the handcuffs can be found here.
It was only after James had left, lips obnoxiously red, expression wholly too
self-satisfied that Michael realized exactly how reckless their behavior had
been. It was still eleven days, six hours and thirteen minutes until James'
eighteenth birthday. Of course, the fact that he knew such nuance details had
scared him for the first couple of days, but soon, as with most things
involving James, he simply shoved it aside and rode blissfully down the river
denial.
Michael scrubbed his face before gathering up his papers and shoving them into
his arms. He wouldn't be getting anymore grading done today. Or tonight. Maybe
that's what caused James to break their pattern, the anticipation of tonight.
Three or four nights a week they would meet up at different locations where
they were sure to be unseen by someone they knew. It wasn't always about sex,
although it usually ended up there. Some nights, they simply laid together in
bed watching some film on TV or James would do his homework while Michael
graded papers. The important part for both of them was being together, without
having to put on a pretense.
Today he stopped by his flat first; there were a few necessary items he'd need
for tonight's rendezvous. He smiled to himself as he packed the duffle, fingers
lingering lovingly on select items, imagining how they'd feel against James'
skin. The thoughts forced him to adjust himself, a wry smile on his lips. With
everything packed, he tossed the duffle in the backseat of his car and set out
for the hotel. As he drove, he began to map out the night's activities.
Tonight, nothing would be left to chance; everything would be tailored to
ensure James never forgot about his little indiscretion. One which Michael
couldn't allow himself to over think, because if he did, he'd call off their
whole relationship; as much as he enjoyed James' company, a bit more than he
expected and a lot more than he should, he liked his job and his freedom, too.
Two hours later, he was ready. He glanced at the clock; James had exactly five
minutes to walk through that door, or he'd be late. James was never late.
Michael resisted the urge to pace, his pent up energy, needed an outlet. With
two minutes to spare, Michael heard the electric lock engage a second before
James walked into the room.
Michael took a moment to appreciate the way James' face changed. The smug look
transformed into an awed submission so fast Michael nearly missed it. He
tightened one hand, enjoying the sound of the leather gloves creaking; he
enjoyed watching James lick his lips more. He moved towards James, who backed
himself against the door, eyes wide, mouth parted. Michael reached up and ran
the back of his fingers gently down the side of James' face. James closed his
eyes and leaned into the caress.
"Tell me your safeword."
James blinked slowly, as if waking from a dream and Michael nearly groaned
aloud, it was only one touch.
"Jaws."
Michael smiled. It was how they always entered a scene; it gave James a chance
to beg out before things even started. A simple, I have no safe word, and it
would be over without a second thought. So far, James had only opted out once,
and Michael still felt a surge of anger when he thought about what James had
told him that night, not anger towards James, but at the people closest to him.
He forced his thoughts back to the present. "Good. Turn around."
James swallowed and did as he was told. Michael moved in close, almost touching
and watched James quiver with anticipation of the first touch. Michael placed
his hands on James' hips and brought James' shirt up and over his head before
trailing his fingers down James' spine, enjoying the sight of James' back
arching.
"I hope you enjoyed your stunt today, James," Michael whispered into James'
ear. "I hope it was worth it."
Michael ran his glove-clad hands up James arms, forcing them above his head in
the process. He linked their fingers, loving the visual contrast of the black
gloves against James' pale skin. Fully covering James' body with his own,
Michael moved against James once before latching his teeth onto the delicate
skin at James' collarbone. He heard James' breath hitch in a hiss and covered
the abused spot with his lips, sucking the skin into his mouth. Beneath him
James trembled. Michael slid his hands down James' body before stepping away.
He stood and silently watched James; he admired the sight of James' hands above
his head, elongating the line of his back, saw how it arched gracefully into
his pert, rounded ass.
"Was it worth it, James?" Michael asked.
"Yes, sir."
Michael grinned wolfishly. He enjoyed hearing James' voice, hearing the way it
would change as the scene progressed. Titles were simple; in a scene, he was
sir, in class he was Mr. Fassbender, and any other time he was Michael.
"I'm glad to hear that, James. Place your hands behind your back."
James lowered his hands and crossed them at the wrists. Michael moved up behind
him, leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the base of James' neck, distracting
him from the handcuffs in his hands. Michael latched the cuffs to James' right
wrist; he heard James' breath catch as the metal enclosed his wrist tightly,
before doing the same to the left.
Michael tugged the chain links connecting the cuffs, watching the tension race
through James' shoulders, down through his arms before leading James to the
bed.
"Bend over and spread your legs."
James did as he was told, movements and balance a bit off due to the handcuffs;
Michael licked his lips. Michael kneeled behind James, reached around and undid
James' trousers; he pulled them down just enough to expose James' ass. He bent
further over James and nipped the skin just above the swell of James' ass
before ghosting over the mark with a gloved fingertip. Michael watched the
shiver race up James' spine. Michael smiled to himself as he brought his hands
up to palm James' ass. Tenderly, he kneaded the muscle, loving the fullness of
James' ass, wishing to touch it with his own hand, skin to skin, but knowing
this would be better for James, his own desires could wait.
Hands lingering, Michael stood to his feet and moved to James' right side. The
bed frame was tall enough that bent over the bed, James' feet barely laid flat
on the carpet. Michael appreciated how much younger it made James look. He
smoothed his hand across James ass before bringing his hand up then down
sharply on the fleshy part of James' ass, savoring the sound of the leather as
it snapped against James' skin. Michael rubbed the abused skin gently before
repeating the action, this time causing James to cry out, back bowing
gracefully, head thrown back, lips parted, eyes closed. Michael brought his
hand down again, and again, and again. Each time James' back arched and he made
the most enticing sounds in the back of his throat before sagging back against
the mattress.
Michael took a moment to examine the results of his efforts; James' ass cheeks
were stained a deep rose color and he kept trying to push his ass back, as
though seeking out another. James' breathing was shallow and fast.
"How does that feel, James?" Michael asked, mouth close to James' ear.
"Good, sir, so good."
Michael moved back a bit, hand humming and warm from James' skin.
"Stand up."
James stood, legs a bit shaky. Michael placed one hand on James' upper arm to
steady him while he used the other to unlock one side of the handcuffs.
Briefly, his thumb traced the red marks on his wrists, to which James made an
appreciative noise in the back of his throat. Michael helped him step out of
his trousers fully.
"Get up on the bed, James, near the head board."
James cast a look over his shoulder before climbing onto the bed. Michael felt
the look race through him like fire. The need, the want, the desperation, all
of it rolled up in one moment, one look...something he'd never forget. I've got
you, baby. I've got you. Michael rooted in the duffle until he found the bottle
of lube. He gave a sad look to his gloves, glad he'd purchased several pairs,
before moving to the head of the bed. He locked the free end of the cuffs to
the headboard and handed the bottle of lube to a confused James.
"I want you to open yourself up for me. Open yourself up good because when
you're ready I'm going to use these gloves," Michael caressed the side of
James' face again, "to fuck you until you come from the feel of my fingers
buried deep inside you. That, and nothing else."
 Michael watched the muscles in James' throat work as he swallowed, eyes
suddenly wide - with excitement.
"Can you do that for me, James?"
James nodded. "Ye-s, yes, sir."
"That's my boy."
Michael moved to the foot of the bed and sat in a chair he'd moved there
earlier, wanting the perfect view. He watched James fumble a bit with the lube,
but soon he had generously coated his fingers. When James caught sight of
Michael watching him, he froze, eyes wide mouth forming a silent "o". Michael
smiled gently, the one he reserved just for James.
"It's okay, baby. I want to see you do this, see how amazing you'll look as you
use your fingers to open yourself up for me. The way your face will flush, the
noises you'll make. Me sitting here knowing I can't touch you until you tell me
I can, sitting here with my want, with my desire, waiting to touch you."
Michael held James' gaze, watched as he gained control of himself and then
wondered how he'd manage to sit here without touching James. Every nerve ending
in his body was on fire as he watched James scoot up onto his knees before
reaching back, struggling to find a workable angle to work his index finger
into his hole. Slowly, James worked his index finger in to the first knuckle.
After a few tentative thrusts, James found his rhythm; his finger rocking in
and out, soon his whole body moved with the motion. Michael heard the clang of
the handcuffs against the headboard and pressed the heel of his hand against
his crotch. Tonight was about James.
When James inserted a second finger, Michael bit the inside of his mouth as his
eyes closed which didn't help because his brain supplied images of James on his
knees, under his desk, red lips around his swollen dick - Michael opened his
eyes. James seemed lost in the sensation, his body moving in time with his
fingers as they worked in an out of his hole, lube dripping down his hand,
sweat beading on his back.
After what felt like days to Michael, James pulled his fingers out and looked
over his shoulder, eyes locking with Michael.
"I'm ready, sir."
Michael nodded, unable to speak. James' arousal roughened voice grated over his
senses like sandpaper. With measured strides, Michael walked to the head of the
bed and unhooked the handcuff from the bed frame.
"Give me your hand."
When James offered his hand, Michael moved the chain of the handcuffs around
the headboard post before securing James' other wrist, effectively chaining
James to the bed. With James on his knees, Michael surveyed the remains of his
earlier efforts, James' ass still a pleasing pink color. He reached out and
rubbed each cheek, hearing James' mewl.
"Have I told you how amazing you look like this? On your knees, hole open,
ready for me? You're stunning."
Michael picked up the tube of lube from where James had left it, coated his
finger with a generous amount and, with that, Michael pushed his index finger
in, feeling the leather slide smoothly. James had prepared himself well. He
felt James stop breathing and stilled his finger. He brought his other hand up
to the base of James' back.
"Breathe, James. I need you to breathe for me."
With a stuttering effort, James began to breathe, shallowly at first, but soon
it evened out enough for Michael to feel confident enough to continue.
"That's my good boy, James. Keep breathing. Focus on the feel of my finger
inside you and breathe with the movement."
Michael pushed his finger the rest of the way in, feeling James breathe with
the movement. Slowly, he pulled out, nearly all the way, before pushing back
in; Michael repeated this several times, establishing a steady rhythm designed
to even out James' breathing. Soon though, it wasn't enough for James who began
to push back on Michael's hand, speeding up the pace, increasing the friction.
"Please, sir."
"What do you want, James?"
"M-more, sir."
Michael slowly inserted a second finger, feeling the way it stretched James,
hearing the leather rub against itself as he worked both fingers in and out of
James. He allowed James to set the pace, watched his fingers disappear inside
James. James bowed his back as he pushed back against Michael's fingers; he'd
lost all sense of rhythm as he chased his release. Michael curled his fingers
and James' entire body shuddered as Michael hit James' prostate. Soon James
rocked against Michael's hand with abandon, the cuffs rattled nosily as James
moved, heedless of everything but his elusive release.
"Sir, please, sir - I - "
Michael coated another finger in lube and slowly inserted it, adding it to the
other two.
"I told you James, if you want to come, you'll do so from the feel of my
fingers inside you and nothing more."
James cried out his frustration. Michael repositioned his fingers and began to
thrust them in tandem with James' movements. Each time he pushed in, Michael
would brush against James' prostate.
"Come for me, baby."
With a few more hard thrusts, Michael felt James' body tighten seconds before,
with a cry, James shot his load, staining the hotel pillow. Gently, Michael
slid his fingers from James, both of them feeling the loss of the connection.
He pressed a gentle kiss to the base of James' spine.
"You did so well tonight, baby."
Michael reached up and removed the handcuffs, feeling the way James trembled in
the aftershock of his orgasm. With his teeth, Michael loosened the straps on
the leather gloves and tore them from his hands.
"Ssshhh, I've got you," Michael whispered in James' ear, holding him close,
running a soothing hand up and down James' arm. When the worst of James'
trembling subsided, Michael gently slid from the bed.
"I'll be right back. I've gotta get some stuff to clean you up, okay?"
James nodded slowly.
Michael frowned and didn't move.
"I'll be o-okay."
Quickly, Michael went into the bathroom and soaked a washcloth in warm water,
wrung it out, and grabbed the first aid kit on from his duffle on his way back
to the bed. He threw the soiled pillow off the bed before settling down,
watching James' features carefully as he came back to himself. Michael used the
warm washcloth to clean James after which he reached down and retrieved James'
boxers. With a soft smile, James pulled them on before settling between
Michael's spread legs.
Michael pulled James right arm up so that he could examine the abrasions left
by the handcuffs. He'd brought a special pair, wider cuffs, two-toned silver
and gold. They looked fantastic against James' skin.
"This will sting a bit, but I have to clean it," Michael told James, voice
soft.
James simply snuggled further into Michael. Gently, he swabbed the lightly
bleeding cuts with an alcohol swab. Already the skin around the shallow cuts
was beginning to purple; it would spread a bit more before it began to heal.
Michael brought James wrist up to his mouth, placing a delicate kiss to his
inner wrist.
"So beautiful," Michael's voice rumbled through his chest.
He dabbed the abrasions with a special ointment he kept in a jar before
wrapping them in gauze. By morning, he'd be able to take the gauze off, the
majority of the cut healed. The bruising would take a bit longer, but Michael
knew James liked those better, liked it when the physical representation of
their time together lasted. Michael helped James to sit up a bit so he could
remove his jeans and shirt. James looked at him a bit curiously, eyes still
heavy lidded. Normally, they had a bit of a cuddle before one of them left.
After a scene, Michael was usually the one to leave, James needing the rest.
He knew it was risky, to break their pattern, but he couldn't bring himself to
leave James; not tonight, not after the way James had come apart in his arms.
When Michael settled himself under the covers, James' face fell as he turned to
crawl from the bed.
"James," Michael called softly, "come here, love."
Michael held the sheet up for James, who after a second of deliberation, slid
under the covers and curled up against Michael.
"How are you?"
James moaned lightly and curled his hand around Michael's side. Michael placed
a kiss on the top of James' head before tilting his head up so he could see
James' eyes.
"I need words, James. How are you?"
"I'm good, Michael. I'm very good."
Michael cupped James' cheek before kissing him lightly. James moved impossibly
closer and Michael's hand trailed down his neck around the curve of his
shoulder before resting possessively on James' hip. Languidly, Michael pulled
his lips away.
"Sleep, love. I'll make you breakfast in the morning."
James smiled broadly. "M'kay."
Michael reached around and turned out the light before settling James against
him. As he drifted to sleep, he found he truly enjoyed the feel of James
pressed up to him and cursed the remaining eleven days, six hours and thirteen
minutes until James' eighteenth birthday.
~FIN~
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!