Motivation - H/F - Part 10

Hannibal let his head fall back against the wall, “Oh, way to go John,” he muttered darkly, “Kick the kid while he’s down why don't you...”

 

But the worst thing, even worse than making the most god awful day of Face’s life just a whole lot more unpleasant, was the fact that Hannibal would give anything, absolutely anything to take Face up on his offer. Anything. But, he was his CO, it would never work.

 

Hannibal sat and stared out at the darkening city thinking over the events of the last week. How good it had felt when Face had been so damn pleased to see him after he’d got back from his meeting with Russ, how it was him that Face had asked for after Tosh nearly cracked his head open, how he’d glowed whenever Hannibal had been proud of him, how he had literally begged Hannibal to tell him the real reason he didn’t want him to continue fighting Tosh. And in amongst that, the gut wrenching terror that Hannibal had felt when he thought Dougie had taken his boy away from him, watching him go down with Tosh’s elbow on his head, Tosh’s foot in his face...

 

With a sinking feeling Hannibal realised that it was too late. For all intents and purposes they were already involved, tangled up beyond all hope of separation. Nothing for it but to sever those ties. Hannibal knew that he would never, ever be able to have a normal working relationship with Face ever again, they’d ruined it. So they would have to move on, Face could not be a part of Russ’s new Alpha Team, Hannibal would have to let him go. He’d find a really good place for him to go to though, he’d make sure of that; only the best would do for the kid.

 

It felt as if his heart were breaking but he knew it was the only option. It was either go their separate ways or...  and his heart started up in a crazy pattern. Or... they could...

 

No, Hannibal gripped his hands tightly together, he was his CO for crying out loud! This was wrong, unethical; enough to get them both thrown out on their asses, but... a possibility. A crazy, risky, potentially disastrous possibility.

 

He shook his head. No! It would all go wrong, then where would that leave them?

 

No worse than where we are now... Hannibal admitted to himself.

 

So what was there to lose?

 

Everything?

 

 Nothing... If they didn’t do this, then Face would be a stranger to him forever.  

 

But if they did...

 

“So, I’m good enough to let an old friend fuck me, but not good enough for anything more with you?” Anything more? That’s what Face wanted? More?

 

Hannibal rubbed his eyes as confused thoughts assaulted him. He couldn’t risk this for nothing, if they were going to do this, it had to be for the ‘anything more’. And he wanted it, wanted it more than anything else. Wanted Face to be able to believe in himself.

 

His eyes fell to the ground and landed on the key card to Face’s room. He picked it up and toyed with it thoughtfully. Then he slowly hauled himself up and headed back the way he’d come.

 

________________________

 

Hannibal stood outside Face’s door for almost five minutes before softly knocking. There was no reply so he leaned forward and pressed his ear to the cool wood, hearing the muted sounds of a shower from within. He looked at the key card in his hand before taking a deep breath and sliding it into the slot, watching the light flash green and then letting himself in.

 

The smell of shampoo and steam hit him as soon as he entered, closing the door as quietly as possible behind him. The bathroom door was wide open and he glanced in, seeing Face stood in the shower with his back to Hannibal. His hands were braced against the corner of the tiled wall, one on each side, and his head was bowed down, the spray hitting him on the back of the head and running down his neck and face. Hannibal could see from the red flush to his skin that he had obviously been in there a while.

 

He took a step forward, and Face’s innate sixth sense suddenly kicked in, his head lifting and turning, eyes widening as he saw Hannibal standing there in the entrance to his en-suite.

 

They looked at each other without speaking for long, tense seconds, before Face reached up and shut off the water. The sudden silence was almost deafening and he turned, totally unconcerned by his nakedness, red rimmed eyes weighing Hannibal up, trying to read something in his CO’s inscrutable expression. Hannibal took another step in, and Face moved back against the wall of the shower, the invitation obvious, but it seemed that Hannibal had reached his limit.

 

Another silent minute passed before Face reached out with one hand and took hold of the shower door, preparing to yank it open, but Hannibal’s hand was there before him, keeping it closed. Face reacted as if he had been stung, hand shooting back to his side, eyes widening and a flush of utter mortification washing across his features.

 

“Wait,” Hannibal whispered as Face opened his mouth to stutter an awkward apology, “Just wait a minute, I need to say this right.”

 

Face closed his mouth and leaned back into the wall once more, eyes less panicked but still guarded. Hannibal took a breath, “You are right, you know, in what you said about us. There is something there, something more,” Face’s expression didn’t flicker, “But,” Hannibal glanced down at the floor then forced himself to look back up again, “I was right too. I am your CO, I have certain responsibilities to act in a certain way towards you, to not act in a certain way towards you,” He rubbed his hand up over his face and into his hair. “This isn’t easy, kid, the way we are expected to operate here isn’t necessarily what we would choose for ourselves.”

 

Blinking hard against the threatening tears in his eyes Face stood up a little straighter against the wall, his chin lifting defiantly.

 

“And anyway,” Hannibal said bleakly, “I don't do casual fucks.”

 

Face’s cheeks flushed red, “You know boss,” his voice was raw, “I get the message. You turned me down last night, again up on the roof; you didn’t need to follow me down here just to make it three in a row.”

 

Hannibal took a tiny step in, “I don't do casual fucks,” he repeated quietly, “Which is why, if we are going to do this, I’ll need something more from you...”

 

Face blinked and he seemed to sag against the wall as he struggled to take in Hannibal’s words, “S-something more?” he stammered.

 

Pulse pounding in his head, Hannibal nodded, “This risk we’d be taking with our reputations, our careers,” he dropped his eyes, “our hearts; it would have to be worth it.”

 

Apart from the last few drips of water from the shower head, there was silence in the bathroom. Hannibal stared at the bathmat, unable to look at Face any more, feeling like the condemned waiting for the axe to fall – and then he heard the shower door open. He felt rather than saw or heard Face step out to stand in front of him, and then warm tentative fingers were touching his, the lightest of contacts, asking their own questions. “I’ll make it worth it,” Face’s voice was a hoarse whisper, “You want something more from me, boss? You can have any damn thing you want. Everything. I’ve always been yours anyway.”

 

Hannibal felt like he’d just reached the apex of the climb on a roller coaster, and was now free falling, wind in his hair, down the other side. He looked up into Face’s earnest blue eyes and lifted a hand, sliding it into wet, dark curls, and pulled Face’s head in, resting their foreheads together and reaching out to squeeze the fingers that hovered hesitantly against his.

 

“Okay then,” he whispered, heart pounding in his throat, “But I don’t know how in the hell we’re going to make this work-”

 

“We’ll make it work,” Face whispered back, “You and me, boss, we’re a fucking ace team, we’ll make this work just fine.”

 

Hannibal smiled at the confidence in the kid’s voice and leaned in a bit, just enjoying the intimacy of their joined fingers, shared air, and wondering how he could ever have continued through his life without this.

 

Minutes passed as they stood together, then Hannibal felt Face shudder and suddenly remembered that the kid was naked and wet, probably freezing his ass off and pulled back, looking into Face’s smile, before tugging on their joined hands and drawing him into the bedroom.

 

“Stand there,” he ordered, placing Face in the centre of the room, “I need to dry you off.”

 

The kid did as he was told as Hannibal grabbed a towel from the en-suite and came back, reaching up with it in both hands to rub it gently through Face’s hair, drying it effectively in seconds, watching as tiny curls appeared at the nape of his neck. Then he took the towel in one hand and gently stroked it over his face, gentle caresses that lifted away the moisture. 

 

He moved around to the broad, smooth back, marred in placed by ugly bruises and angry welts and, still only using the towel in one hand, softly dabbed up all the water droplets still clinging to Face’s skin. Next he dried an arm, staring in fascination as tiny rivulets of water ran round the undulations of his bicep, lifting it up to lightly pat abused ribs dry, stroking down over the curve of a sharp hip bone before stepping around Face’s back to lavish the same treatment on the other arm.

 

Hannibal felt that he was in some weird dream, able to look his fill at long last, able to feel those wide sweeps of muscle he had only glimpsed before, even if it was through the rough cotton of the towel. For now. He was aware of his heart thumping solidly against his chest and his erection pressing hard up against his fly and they were the only things that convinced him that he was actually wide awake.

 

Moving to stand right in front of Face, Hannibal lifted the now damp towel and slowly, gently, swept it across his chest, from left shoulder to right hip, feeling the swell of his pecs and the hard plane of his stomach. Then he swapped hands and repeated the movement on the other side, chasing tiny silver droplets from the hair on his chest, following them down the light sprinkling on his stomach, further down, guided by the V of Face’s abdominal muscles, then dropping away as Hannibal’s eyes eventually fell on the one sight he’d never thought would be his.

 

For long, silent, seconds, Hannibal could only stare. It had been quite a while since he had seen the evidence of another man’s desire for his body, and he couldn’t remember it ever meaning quite this much to him. Face was hard and erect, his reddened cock almost flush to his stomach and Hannibal thought it was, quite simply, the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He couldn’t tear his eyes away, his fingers itching to touch but still not quite daring to.

 

“Hannibal...” Face’s breath like whisper eventually snapped him out of his daze and he glanced up, mortified to see the embarrassed flush across Face’s cheeks.

 

“God, I’m sorry,” he breathed, both hands coming up to rest on those flushed cheeks and he forced out a laugh, “You must think I am some kind of pervert!” Face shook his head slowly, his eyes solemn and Hannibal felt that weird flip-flop feeling again. “You’re just so damn beautiful, kid, that’s all, I could stare at you all night.”

 

“I’d rather you did a little more than stare...” the trepidation was obvious in Face’s voice, but Hannibal’s heart went out to him for his bravery.

 

“Oh, I will,” he whispered back, “Don’t you worry about that, Face, I most certainly will, but only when you are dry.”

 

Face opened his mouth to protest, but his words morphed into a strangled moan as Hannibal snatched up the towel and smoothed it over his erection, swiping up and under his balls before stroking damp thighs, banishing any remaining water droplets from his skin.

 

And now it was Face’s turn to stare, wide eyed, as Hannibal knelt in front of him, his face only inches any from that straining cock, studiously ignoring it, as he dried knees and calves and ankles before leaning even further in and patting up the back of Face’s legs, up hard thighs before eventually finding his ass, the cool, damp towel moulding to his skin as Hannibal’s fingers took the opportunity to knead the firm flesh through the cotton.    

 

And then Face was dry. Hannibal dropped the towel onto the carpet and pulled back, taking just a second to pause, his mouth centimetres away from Face’s erection . He looked up and saw the kid looking down at him, eyes wide and blown, cheeks and lips flushed red, mouth slightly open, chest heaving with emotion and Hannibal felt a wave of love, so pure and solid and perfect wash over him that he just knew he was doing the right thing.

 

He dropped a chaste kiss onto the velvety smooth head of Face’s cock, then, loving the way that his kiss had made Face’s entire body twitch, rose to his feet and slipped a hand out to rest on the cool skin of his ribs, thumb playing idly over the bones he could feel there.

 

“This is it, kid,” he whispered, the hoarseness in his voice almost embarrassing, “This is your last chance to back out.”

 

“I don't want to back out,” Face’s whisper was just as rough, “This is all I’ve ever wanted,” he tried to take a step in, but the hand on his ribs held him back.

 

“Be sure, Templeton, be very sure because once I get you, I’m never letting you go.”

 

Face’s eyelids fluttered for a second before closing and despite Hannibal’s pressure on his bruised ribs, he narrowed the gap between them.

 

Their faces were just centimetres apart now and Hannibal closed his eyes, finding the intimacy too overwhelming as he felt Face’s lips brushing against his with the lightest of feather like touches. “Never let me go, boss,” the words went straight into his mouth and right to his cock, “please, please, never let me go.”

 

Six months and ten days of iron like restraint shattered into a million pieces at that moment. Hannibal closed the remaining millimetres and sealed his mouth to his lieutenant’s; arms circling around behind, one on the back of his neck, one firmly gripping his ass, moulding their bodies tightly together.

 

Face’s arms came up as well, pushing Hannibal’s t-shirt out of the way, their desperate search for skin rewarded as the palms of his hands finally found all the warm hard flesh of Hannibal’s back. Hannibal moaned into Face’s mouth as he felt those long, eager fingers kneading and stroking him, while Face’s erection was jammed hard against his hip bone, rubbing slow, sensuous circles in time with their kiss.

 

He could have gone on all night like this, his tongue gently, slowly exploring Face’s mouth, his hands skimming flesh and feeling goose bumps under the pads of his fingers. Face, firm but yielding, pushing up against him, his mouth that curious mix of soft lips and hard jaw that was so different from kissing a woman. But all too soon Face was pulling away, his hands tugging Hannibal along with him as he backed up towards the bed.

 

They were there before they knew it and Face let himself collapse onto the mattress, pulling his CO down with him and Hannibal had to sever their kiss and twist his body to avoid crushing the younger man underneath him.

 

“Take it easy Face,” he whispered as he felt almost frantic fingers tugging at the waistband of his trousers, searching out the buttons, shaking in their hurry.

 

“I need you,” came Face’s desperate reply and Hannibal reached down to grab those anxious hands, holding two tightly in one of his and pulling them up to rest against his chest.

 

“I know, kid,” he soothed, “But this is better done right believe me.” Face looked up at him through his impossibly long lashes and there was that damn flip-flop again. “Now tell me,” Hannibal was pushing on through the flip-flop, “You ever done anything like this before, with another man?”

 

Face flushed again and looked down before Hannibal gently tilted his chin back up so that they were looking into each other’s eyes once more, “Have you?” he coaxed, “I need to know.”

 

Closing his eyes and looking thoroughly mortified, Face shook his head and Hannibal pulled him into his chest, loving the feel of the kid’s head nestled right over his heart. “Don’t be like this, kid,” he whispered, letting go of Face’s hands to stroke through his hair, “If this is your first time I will need to be extra careful with you, make sure you feel all the right things.”

 

Looking faintly irritated, Face opened his eyes and looked up, “I’m not made of glass you know,” he grumbled.

 

A faint smile ghosted across Hannibal’s lips, “Oh, I am perfectly aware of that,” he whispered, “But I won’t hurt you Face. Ever. You got that?”

 

The irritation instantly melted from Face’s features only to be replaced by a look of such open love that Hannibal had to bite back the ridiculous desire to cry. Instead he smiled down at his lieutenant and smoothed his thumb over a cheek bone before forcing himself up and off the bed before he lost his last threads of control.

 

Instantly Face was on his knees of the mattress, hands grabbing onto Hannibal’s t-shirt as he tried to walk away, “Boss...?”

 

“Don’t worry,” Hannibal untangled his fingers and dropped a kiss onto the top of his head, “I just need to pop to my room and get some things, one minute. I swear.”

 

Face looked unconvinced for a moment but then nodded and sat back on his legs, “One minute,” he repeated, “I’m counting...”

 

 

Hannibal laughed at him and slipped from the room.

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