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Sean's mistake was the misconception that he could speak anyway he wanted to Hank, just because Alex and Xavier spoke to him as they pleased. What Sean failed to observe was that he wasn't in the equal footing with Alex and Xavier when it came to Hank. He wasn't his boyfriend like Alex, nor his boss like Xavier, and hence Hank didn't have to take anything from Sean, not even a one disparaging word.
So when Sean went to give Hank a piece of his mind after the disastrous afternoon of window jumping, he wasn't prepared to be the one walking away with a lesson.
Hank allowed him to go on for awhile. Sean told him that he didn't think any of the Hank's inventions worked, could work, or would ever work, that Hank was just making shit up for fun, that Hank had planned the whole thing to embarrass him and (or) possibly injure him in freak plan to make Hank seem more popular. It wasn't until Sean said he didn't even believe that Hank could count the proper math for propulsion, that the things took a turn.
Sean didn't really understand how fast and strong Hank was until then. He appeared physically meek, when in fact he was nothing but pure muscle combined with amazing dexterity. Sean barely managed to inhale in the fraction of time that it took to Hank close the distance between them, wrapping his arm around his torso and then folding him like laundry, so that Sean was securely fastened under the crook of his arm, arms pinned, legs kicking in the air.
Hank was taller, stronger and he had managed to surprise Sean with this move, so by the time Sean connected the position with the intention, it was already too late. His sweatpants were down to his ankles and there was a cold breeze on his ass, a sensation he certainly didn't want to experience at the moment.
“My. Math. Is. Always. Correct,” Hank said and with every word there was a heavy thud against Sean's bare ass, the sound of flesh obscene and loud in the laboratory. “Do. Not. Doubt. My. Math!”
Hank's hand felt huge, like he was covering his whole ass with it. He let his hand rest on him between the smacks, which intensified the impact so much that after four or five more words, Sean thought that he felt the vibrations everywhere, crawling around his body from the tips of his hair all the way to the bottom of his feet. He bit his lip to hold back the scream that was bubbling in his throat.
Sean knew if he screamed, everyone would hear it, and they would rush here and see him like this, ass up in the air and completely helpless. That image alone caused such an intense feeling of shame that it was almost unbearable. So he kept quiet, the effort of it making his eyes water.
Hank seemed to understand his struggle. “Only twenty more,” he said quietly in between smacks, and Sean sobbed. He couldn't take that, he just couldn't. The smacks kept on coming and Hank drilled his point home with controlled precision. Sean was so caught up to count down in his head, and keeping quiet, and holding in the pain, that he didn't even realize that he had an erection. It was just an another tight, hot and painful feeling among others.
“Have. You. Learned. Your. Lesson?”
“I have, I have, I'm sorry! Please, stop, I'm sorry!” Sean pleaded, even though he wasn't sorry at all, not really, but he wanted this to stop. If Hank wouldn't let go right this instant, he would loose it, and scream and cry at once. He wouldn't do it. It was easier to lie.
Hank seemed pleased with his answer, or maybe his arm had finally tired, because he released his hold and pushed Sean to his feet. He stood there weak and wobbly, while Hank looked the same as always. He was hardly even flushed, as if the whole deal hadn't been physically straining to him at all. Sean in other hand felt like he had run a marathon. He pulled his pants up, trying his darn best to ignore the stinging and the chafing. He wiped the tears away. His whole head felt hot and flushed because the crying.
“Go away Sean. I have to work, and I don't want to look at you anymore.”
Sean turned and left without a word. He marched straight to his own room, closed the door and dropped his pants, hissing in pain when the fabric pressed against his sore ass. He whacked off without any finesse, just grabbing himself and going for it. It didn't take long, not after he pressed his free hand against his heated ass, imagining the bruises forming in the shape of Hank's huge hand. The light pressure there pushed him over the brink, and he came so hard that he had never felt an orgasm like that. For one dizzying second he imagined his skin melted and bones turned into water from the power of it. Afterward he crashed to the floor and laid there, sweat and cum splattered all over. Sean didn't care, he was too spent to even form a coherent thought.
Sean dozed off, and woke up to the pain radiating from his ass, and to the fact that he was half-naked on the floor and shivering from cold. He got up and dragged himself to the shower. Under the hot water he mapped out the damage Hank had done. The scrapes and scratches from the fall, large red marks and pale purple beginnings of bruises and when he twisted as far back as he could, he got a nice glimpse of the glorious mess of handprints Hank had left. Sean groaned and leaned his head against the cool tiles. His body was spent but he couldn't help it. He whacked off again, hand and dick both tired. He came with a stifled sigh and for the tenth time today, he only wished he could just scream and scream, until there was nothing but noise left.