The X-Mansion was unusually quiet for a weekday morning, the kind of stillness that made you suspicious something was brewing. Domino lounged on her bed, one leg dangling over the edge, her black tank top clinging to her curves and her shorts riding just high enough to show off the toned lines of her thighs. She was flipping through a worn-out paperback, half-reading, half-daydreaming, when her door flew open with all the subtlety of a grenade.
Hank, the infuriatingly charming clone of Magneto, stood in the doorway, his broad shoulders filling the frame. His dark hair was a mess, as if he’d just rolled out of bed, and his piercing blue eyes locked onto her with a predatory glint. He didn’t even pretend to apologize for the intrusion.
“Jesus, Hank! Ever heard of knocking, or do you just assume every room in this place is your personal playground?” Domino snapped, tossing her book aside and sitting up, her voice sharp but her lips twitching with amusement.
Hank’s grin was pure mischief, the kind that could melt steel—or at least her resolve. “Playground? Nah, Dom. I just figured I’d grace you with my presence. You’re welcome, by the way.” He stepped inside without invitation, his boots scuffing against the hardwood as he surveyed her room like he owned it.
She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest, which only served to highlight the way her tank top stretched. “Oh, I’m so honored. What’s the deal, pretty boy? You lost or just bored?”
He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that sent an involuntary shiver down her spine. “Neither. School’s out for the day. Some kinda maintenance issue with the Danger Room. Figured we’d make the most of it.” His gaze dropped, lingering on her bare legs for a beat too long before snapping back to her face, his smirk widening. “Unless you’ve got better plans than hanging with me.”
Domino snorted, leaning back on her hands, her posture deliberately casual despite the heat creeping up her neck. “Better plans? Honey, I could plan a heist in my sleep that’d be more exciting than whatever half-baked idea you’ve got rattling around in that head of yours. But I’m listening. Barely.”
Hank’s eyes sparkled with challenge as he stepped closer, the air between them crackling. “Oh, come on, Dom. Don’t act like you’ve forgotten our first date at Marco’s. You know, the one where we barely made it through dinner before sneaking off to the bathroom?” He winked, his voice dipping into a suggestive purr. “Pretty sure the waiter still blushes when he sees us.”
She couldn’t help it—she laughed, the sound bright and unapologetic, her dark eyes glinting with memory. “Yeah, that’s my favorite replay too, stud. Though I gotta say, you were more bark than bite in that tiny stall. Lucky for you, I’m generous with second chances.”
Hank clutched his chest in mock offense, but the grin never left his face. “Ouch, babe. You wound me. How ‘bout I make it up to you? Second date, today. Movies at 2 PM. I’ll even let you pick the snacks.” He leaned in, close enough that she could smell the faint cedar of his cologne, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “Or we could skip straight to the part where we’re sneaking into the back row.”
Domino’s smirk was pure sin as she tilted her head, meeting his gaze head-on. “Tempting, but I’m not sure I trust your taste in flicks, Williams. Last time, I nearly fell asleep before the opening credits. Step up your game, or I’m picking something with subtitles just to watch you squirm.”
He laughed, the sound rich and warm, and started to back toward the door. “Deal. I’ll surprise you. Wear something nice, yeah?” But before he could leave, his sharp eyes caught on something—a sliver of fabric peeking out from the top drawer of her dresser. Curiosity got the better of him, and in two strides, he was there, yanking it open.
“Hey, what the hell—” Domino started, but it was too late. Hank pulled out a pair of sleek, black pants, the words “Property of Hank ‘Big Daddy’ Williams” embroidered in bold white letters across the back. He held them up like a damn trophy, his laughter booming through the room.
“Oh my God, Dom. What is this?!” he crowed, turning the pants over in his hands, his eyes wide with delight. “Big Daddy? You’ve been holding out on me!”
Domino lunged forward, cheeks flaming as she tried to snatch them from his grip. “Give me those, you idiot! They were supposed to be a surprise, okay? For... special occasions, not for you to parade around like some frat boy who found a treasure map!”
Hank dodged her easily, holding the pants just out of reach, his grin devilish. “Special occasions, huh? Babe, you gotta wear these to the movies. I’m begging. These curves of yours?” He gestured at her with a sweeping hand, his tone half-serious, half-teasing. “They’ll look downright illegal in these. I might not survive the previews.”
She crossed her arms again, glaring daggers at him, though the flush on her cheeks betrayed her. “Dream on, Casanova. ‘Special occasions’ means private, not popcorn and sticky theater floors. And don’t think for a second your ego needs any more stroking—it’s already the size of a damn blimp.”
“Oh, come on, Dom,” he wheedled, stepping closer, his voice dropping to a playful growl. “Just this once. I’ll owe you. Big time. Name your price.”
She arched a brow, her smirk returning as she tapped a finger against her chin, pretending to consider. “My price? Hmm. How about you stop acting like you’re God’s gift to mutants for, say, a full twenty-four hours? Think you can manage that, hotshot?”
Hank clutched his heart again, feigning devastation. “You drive a hard bargain, woman. But fine. Deal. Wear ‘em, and I’ll be a saint. For a day.”
Domino rolled her eyes, snatching the pants from his hands with a huff. “Fine. But don’t get used to winning, Hank. I’m only doing this ‘cause I know I’ll look hotter than you can handle. Now get out before I change my mind and lock you in the Danger Room instead.”
He flashed her a triumphant smirk, backing toward the door with his hands raised in mock surrender. “Wouldn’t dream of overstaying, babe. I’ll make this date unforgettable, trust me.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she shot back, shoving him the rest of the way out with a hand on his chest, her voice dripping with sass. “Just keep that ego in check, Big Daddy. Wouldn’t want it popping mid-movie.”
The door clicked shut behind him, but she could still hear his laughter echoing down the hall. Domino shook her head, a reluctant smile tugging at her lips as she glanced at the pants in her hands. This day off was already shaping up to be anything but ordinary.
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