First Impressions - Hannibal & Face - Epilogue

[indigo_angels]

Epilogue

Time ticks on and in the three weeks since Hannibal returned to active duty he has been amazed by the change in Face. For a start, it’s the first time since he’s been in the unit that he actually looks happy. It doesn’t matter if they are going over the assault course in the pissing rain or up for a 5am run, he’s always cheerful, always smiling and it warms Hannibal from the heart.

 

Every day he is proving to Hannibal just what a damn fine soldier he is and what a damn fine leader he is going to make. Hannibal can see that he is thinking before he acts now. Maybe not always, and maybe he doesn’t always make the right choices, but it’s there and its coming and Hannibal is just so damn proud of him.

 

The friendship is coming as well, and Hannibal is pleased about that – even if he has realised he will always want just that little bit more. But he is nothing if not realistic and patient. Maybe it will come, maybe it won’t, but either way he’s enjoying things just as they are for the minute.

 

It’s a Saturday night with a rest day tomorrow, very rare and the boys are keen to make the most of it. They have arranged a Casino trip, but Hannibal just isn’t in the mood. He’s sent them off on their own for the night with his eye on a bottle of wine, some relaxing music and a good book. He can’t remember the last chance he got to do that.

 

The chance doesn’t materialise tonight either. Just as he is flicking through his meagre book stock, trying to decide which one to revisit tonight, there’s a knock at his door, and there is Face, with beer, popcorn and a crummy VHS. Hannibal answers his lieutenant’s grin and they settle down to watch the film.

 

They’re about half way through possibly the worst action film Hannibal has ever seen when he decides he wants some answers. He glances over at Face, reclined in the chair alongside him, one foot resting next to his other knee, bowl of popcorn nestled on his lap and he feels that weird pull in his chest again.

 

Face feels his stare and turns, flashing a quick grin and holding out the bowl, “Popcorn boss?” he offers.

 

Hannibal looks at him, really looks at him, trying to work out what’s in his head and its enough to make the kid’s grin falter and die just a bit, “Boss?”

 

Hannibal fixes him with his stare, “Why didn’t you tell me about Sanders?”

 

It’s not what Face is expecting and he lets the bowl drop back to his lap, turning away from his CO and starring at the TV with empty eyes.

 

“Face?”

 

“I dunno...” he eventually mumbles.

 

“I think you do...”

 

Face turns to look at him again and his look is clearly saying, ‘Are we really doing this boss? Really? You sure?’ so Hannibal nods.

 

He sighs and turns back to the screen and Hannibal is content to wait, he knows he’ll answer now and eventually he does.

 

“You wouldn’t have believed me. You’d have thought I was a liar or a whore...” The answer is only what Hannibal expected, but there is so much misery in his voice that he wants to strangle Sanders again for about the tenth time in three weeks.

 

He takes a breath, “Maybe at the beginning,” he admits, “but afterwards? Once you’d been with the unit a few weeks? Couldn’t you have told me then?”

 

Face has given up on the TV now, and is stirring the popcorn absently with one long finger. He looks thoroughly miserable and Hannibal feels bad for doing this to him, but it’s important, vitally so. He needs to know what’s going on in that head.

 

“I dunno...” Face repeats eventually, “I mean, I’m not getting at you here Hannibal, but, well, why would you believe me?” He looks up to meet Hannibal’s eyes, but his features are hidden in the half light of the room. “I mean Sanders isn’t stupid, when he told me to wait outside McGrath’s office that day you were all talking about me,” Hannibal feels the shame heat his cheeks, “he wasn’t just wanting to kick my ego, he wanted me to know how badly you thought of me, wanted me to know that you already thought I was a cheat and a liar...” Face looks back at the popcorn, “He didn’t want me to go to you, he was worried that I would tell, so he made sure I knew how futile that would be, that I was alone again before I’d even gone...”

 

Hannibal feels equal parts desperate and furious. Sanders is not going to get away with this. Face may well be safe now, but there are other kids out there that need protecting from this scumbag. He looks over and Face is staring into the popcorn, obviously a million miles away, and somewhere not too nice either judging by the look on his face...

 

Hannibal knows he needs to ask his next question, this is the one that has really been needling him, the answer he needs while he is plotting Sanders’ downfall. He takes a deep breath.

 

“Face...”

 

Face seems to cringe, it’s almost like he knows what is coming.

 

“While I was away... Did he... Sanders...” he forces himself to get a grip, “Did he touch you kid, while I was away?”

 

Face seems to slump into himself and Hannibal looks away, not trusting himself to keep a hold on his temper if he has to look at the kid at this point.

 

“I’m sorry, Hannibal...” And Hannibal’s stomach twists, it’s going to be every bit as bad as he dreaded; his elbow is propped on the arm rest of the chair and he lets his head falls into it.

 

“I’m sorry...” Face repeats and the edge of desperation to his voice is almost more than Hannibal can bare. “I just didn’t see another way, he had me cornered. The last time I said no, he set me up, planted some dope in my stuff, called it in, we were searched and that was it. Got a few of the boys to say I was dealing. Dealing boss, Jesus I would never do that...” Hannibal’s free hand is balled into a fist as he wills himself to stay calm. “And then when I was in deep shit, he said he would help me out if I... well... you know...”

 

Hannibal can feel the kid blushing, feel his utter mortification. Face takes an audible deep breath, “So I did. I didn’t want to get chucked out, not then, and I certainly didn’t want to go to prison for dealing... But... Oh, god, Hannibal, I hated every fucking second of it...” Hannibal’s silent fury kicks up another notch.

 

There’s a long pause as they both try to get themselves back together before Face continues, his voice flat and emotionless now, “So I thought if I fucked up enough, I’d get bumped off his unit, sent somewhere else where he couldn’t get to me, but it didn’t work, ‘cause the bastard was there wherever I went. It was just getting to the point when I couldn’t stand it when I got sent to you...”
 
Hannibal fills in the blanks himself, how Face would have turned up, full of hope, knowing from Hannibal’s reputation that he would be finally free of Sanders, but then... he’d heard what Hannibal had said about him in McGrath’s office, and all that hope would have been crushed. Hannibal’s stomach twists with guilt. No wonder he’d pulled that disappearing act on his first week in Hannibal’s unit – he’d probably just about reached the end of his rope.

 

“Anyway... as soon as we got back from Cambodia, as soon as you had gone, he was back. Told me he’d pull the dope stunt again. All that stuff is still on my file boss, you must have seen it,” the desperation is back and Hannibal’s fury is rising again, “he’d get me thrown out, just when things are starting to go right, and all I could think was that you’d know I’d fucked up again and I didn’t know when you were back, and I asked around and no one did, and I knew that if Sanders set me up again no one would believe me, and... I just didn’t know what to do... and...”

 

Hannibal’s fingers are cramping with the force of his clenched fists.

 

“I know I’ve let you down. I’m so sorry boss...”

 

And that does it. Hearing his boy, his smart, brave, happy  boy, sounding so broken and empty just snaps something inside him. Sanders is going to pay for this. Right fucking now. He’s up on his feet before he knows it and out of the door. His furious steps take him right round to the mess hall before the red mist clears enough to let him think and he stops. This isn’t the right way to deal with this and he knows it, but there is no way on earth he is going to let the bastard get off scot free. He leans against the wall of the mess and takes deep breaths, trying to straighten his head and think clearly.

 

He won’t ask around, but he’ll have a look at the boys in Sanders’ unit, he must have someone else lined up to fill the gap left by Face, and Hannibal is fairly sure he’ll be able to guess which one. And then he will watch and wait and bide his time and catch the fucker with his pants down and then he’ll get a one way ticket back to civilian life. Hannibal closes his eyes as he feels the rage drain away. Yes, that’s a plan, a good plan, and much more effective than just beating seven tonnes of shit out of him tonight. Tempting as that may be.

 

He’ll have to be careful though, not to let Face get wind of what he is planning. There is no way he wants Face to come within one hundred meters of Sanders ever again in his life, so it’s imperative the kid is kept in the dark. Speaking of which... Hannibal stands up from the wall, it’s time he was back, he’s got the second half of that crappy action movie to watch.

 

He walks slowly back, he wants to make sure all the anger is left behind him and when he pushes open the door to his quarters he hears the TV still playing loudly in the corner. He glances over to the chair where Face was sitting and frowns, it’s empty. With a shrug he picks up his beer can and takes a swig, kid’s probably gone for a piss or something, but then his eyes fall on the spilt beer and upended popcorn all over the floor and a chill settles into his bones. Hannibal thinks back to their conversation, Face’s admission, the guilt in his voice... and the way Hannibal flew out of the room. He’s back out of the door in a second.

 

Bursting into the boys’ quarters he sees Face at once, standing over his cot, stuffing clothes hurriedly into his kit bag. “Oh, no you don’t kid,” he murmurs to himself and in three strides he’s right behind him. “Face, stop, listen to me here,” He grabs Face’s shoulders and turns him round, stopping mid sentence when he sees the tears streaking down his cheeks.

 

“Oh, hell, kid, I’m sorry!” and he pulls him in, folding him into his chest, one hand on his shoulders, the other sliding up to the back of his head, cradling him in, feeling the tears against his neck. “I’m sorry,” he whispers again, “It wasn’t you, it’s never you, I was just so pissed with Sanders I couldn’t think straight...”

 

But he doesn’t even think Face is listening. His own arms have come up around Hannibal’s back and he’s holding on so tightly that it hurts, sobbing into his CO’s neck, his words coming out in a garbled rush.

 
“I shouldn’t have told you; I know you won’t want me anymore, he told me you wouldn’t want me and I tried not to believe him, but he’s right. I gave in so easily ‘cause that’s what I am, just easy, and I know you expect better and now you’ll want me to leave and I will and-”     

 

“Face!” Hannibal grabs him, one hand under his chin, one hand on the side of his head, “Stop! Now!” And Face stops, tears running freely down his cheeks, quiet desperation on his features and Hannibal does what he’s wanted to do since the very first time he saw him standing outside McGrath’s office a year ago and leans in to kiss him.

 

For a second he thinks he’s made a horrendous mistake as Face is still and silent against him, but then with a delightful breath that’s almost a gasp, Face surges forward, his arms going up and around Hannibal’s shoulders and neck again, drawing him in, pulling them closer.

 

Hannibal lets his own hands move, sweeping around Face’s broad shoulders, tangling in his hair, stroking his neck and Face’s tongue moves to stroke the roof of his mouth in reply. A ridiculous moan is pulled from his lips as he feels Face lean into him, flattening his body into Hannibal’s hard frame, pushing, pushing closer and closer; finding that some parts of his boss’s anatomy are harder than others...

 

Instantly Face pulls back and Hannibal is left startled and bereft, wondering if he has made the wrong move after all, but then he is shocked back to awareness by Face’s hands on his fly, tugging it down, clever fingers working their way inside Hannibal’s khakis, trunks, until he finds... Jesus... And then he’s on his knees at Hannibal’s feet, and Hannibal is looking down on him in some kind of lust filled daze and then...

 

“No!” Hannibal pushes him away, so suddenly and so violently that Face ends up on his backside on the floor, his mouth, framed by kiss-red lips, open in shock, his eyes wide.

 

“Oh, god...” his voice is hoarse, “I’m sorry, boss, I’m sorry, I thought...”

 

But Hannibal doesn’t let him finish. This time he is the one on his knees between Face’s legs, hands firm on his lieutenant’s biceps.

 

“I’m not Sanders...” Hannibal rasps, blue eyes locking onto blue. “I want you kid, more than I can ever remember wanting anyone ever before, but not like that,” he gestures down at his still open fly, “You are worth so much more than a quick blow job on your knees, don’t you see that yet?”

 

Face can only blink at him.

 

“If we’re doing this, and I hope to God we are, we’ll do it properly okay?”

 

Still Face can only stare.

 

Hannibal reaches out with one, gentle finger and traces the salty track left by a tear, “I’m not taking anything from you that you wouldn’t freely give. I’m not expecting anything from you that I won’t give in return. Your days of sucking cock and taking it up the arse to order are over, kid. Nothing happens unless it’s what you want. Okay?”

 

He waits. He knows Face will answer; he just needs a bit of time.

 

“Boss...?” but there’s nothing but confusion all over his face, “I don’t know what...” he shakes his head.

 

 “I’m asking you if you want to come to bed with me. Not just tonight, but for the foreseeable future. And not just the sex but...” and now Hannibal runs out of words, even he isn’t sure what he wants here.

 

“Sanders said-”

 

“I don’t fucking care what Sanders said!” Hannibal explodes, “Listen to what I am saying!” He takes a breath, “None of that shit with Sanders bothers me. I want you. Now it’s your call, kid... do you want me?”

 

Hannibal’s heart is thumping against his chest. He’s never exposed himself like this before. Ever. And it’s fucking freaking him out. But suddenly Face smiles; through his tears and his red eyes the smile blooms like a sunrise and Hannibal feels it in his heart and his groin.

 

“Oh yes boss, you’d better fucking believe it.”

 

And Hannibal smiles back, “Well, let’s go then...”

 

Within ten minutes they are back in Hannibal’s quarters, leaving the TV to play to itself and heading straight for the bedroom. It takes no time at all until they are both naked, and Hannibal can’t believe how this evening has turned out. Never in his wildest imaginings would this conclusion have come so soon, so easily. But then he sees the left over salty tracks of tears on his boy’s face and he realises maybe there was a price after all. He leans in and tastes those tracks with his tongue, gently trailing down and kissing Face’s jaw, feeling him shudder under the touch. Then Face kind of ducks, and Hannibal is confused for a second before he realises that he was going to drop to his knees again. He’s managed to stop himself this time, but now he is standing looking slightly awkward, ashamed of his nakedness and unsure what comes next. Hannibal’s heart clenches as he realises that Face just doesn’t know what to do. All of his sexual encounters have obviously involved him on his knees giving head, and since he knows that’s not what Hannibal wants, he’s lost.

 

Hannibal reaches out and places his hand against his slightly stubbled cheek, watching with a smile as Face closes his eyes and leans into his touch.

 

“You done this with any man other than colonel dick head, son?” He doesn’t even like bringing it up, but he needs to know.

 

To his relief, the slightest smile drifts across Face’s expression, “A few...” and Hannibal’s cock jumps at the obvious lust in his voice, “But no one who’s ever...” he doesn’t finish, and Hannibal doesn’t need him to. That’s enough information right there to let him know that Face has been a quick fuck for every man he’s been with. A pretty toy to take however they like. Tonight is going to be very different.

 

He leans in again, tiny kisses to his boy’s face, the corner of his lips, the corner of his eyes, the tip of his nose, his forehead and while he kisses he whispers the rules for the night so that they are both clear. “Tonight... is... about ... you... then...” Face’s eyes are still closed but Hannibal can almost see his heart pounding under his ribs, “I... want... you... to ...fuck me...”

 

At that point Face’s eyes flick open, their pupils blown wide, hardly any blue visible and Hannibal can’t suppress another smile at his expression.

 

“You like the sound of that kid? You want to fuck me?”

 

And this time he sees his cock jump at the words and he can’t resist letting his hand drift down and wrap around that hot, smooth flesh.

 

“Ah... Hannibal...” Face’s head has dropped down and Hannibal feels that thrill of lust rush through him knowing that his lieutenant is watching Hannibal fist him, “I’ve never...” he trails off into a gasp as Hannibal palms the shining head of his cock.

 

“I know you haven’t kid,” Hannibal has to suppress his own gasp as Face’s hand reaches down to mirror his own, “and to tell you the truth...” and it’s hard to talk at all now, watching those long fingers around his length, right next to his own hand doing the same to Face, “I’ve never let anyone before.” Face’s eyes snap up once again and they lock together, “Thought we could have that first time together...?” And he feels ridiculous and open and vulnerable again and wonders just what the hell he is doing giving this kid this much information, this much power over him.

 

But then it’s all okay because Face just seems to surge forward and he’s suddenly in Hannibal’s arms, kissing him with an enthusiasm which literally knocks them both onto the bed, and Hannibal really doesn’t mind as Face’s weight on him as it just grinds their cocks together so hard and it’s all just perfect.

 

There’s a tangle of limbs and mouths and heated flesh and Hannibal thinks he’s died and gone to heaven, but then Face is above him, pushing his thighs open and flicking his tongue over the inside of his legs and then the curve of his arse, and then his balls and Hannibal almost shouts out at that, and then he’s lifting one of Hannibal’s legs and lining himself up and Hannibal has to reach out and stop him with one hand while the other roots around in his bedside table.

 

He’s watching Face carefully as he reaches for the lube; the last thing he wants is to knock his confidence, and so he plainly registers the look of confusion and then dawning realisation that sweeps through Face’s expression as he sees what’s in Hannibal’s hand. Those expressions tumbling across the kid’s face tell him an entire story on their own and yet again Hannibal feels a surge of murderous rage towards anyone who has ever used his boy in such a cavalier way.

 

And then Face takes the tube and a frown clouds his face; he looks up, “Half empty boss...?” and the hurt is clear in his voice, “you do this often then?”

 

Hannibal sits up, hands immediately framing his lieutenant’s face, “Not in six years kid,” he shrugs, “makes it easier on your own, that’s all...”

 

Face seems to weigh his words up for a moment, before his smile is back and he is pushing Hannibal down onto the mattress, “Well, we’d better do something about that then, huh?”

 

And then they are back to where they were, hands and tongues and fingers and heat... and then there’s the cold thrill of the lube and he can feel Face’s finger tip, probing, gently, almost hesitantly and Hannibal needs more than that, “Just do it...” he whispers, his voice raw with lust.

 

It seems to be all Face needs to give him the confidence to do just that, and Hannibal has to bite down on his wrist as he is breached in one smooth motion by one finger, and then very quickly by another.

 

“Like this, boss?” and now he is stretching and scissoring and Hannibal vaguely registers what a quick learner he is before there’s another finger and he finds himself grinding down as Face brushes against his prostrate.

 

“Yeah...” it’s all he can manage.

 

“Are you ready for me?” Face’s voice is strained and heavy and it’s clear he’s more than ready for Hannibal.

 

“Yeah.”

 

And then the fingers are gone and Hannibal is left feeling cold and empty before he looks down and sees Face lining himself up once more. The look of concentration on the kid’s face is just adorable but before Hannibal even has the chance to berate himself for sounding like such a girl, the air is forced out of his lungs as Face bears down and pushes the head of his cock through the tight ring of muscle.

 

Hannibal throws his head back into the pillow, “Oh, god...” and he feels Face starting to pull back. “No!” His hand reaches out but Face is too far away to touch, so he lifts his leg instead, pulling a knee up to his chest, making access easier, “Don’t stop...” he whispers, “keep going...”

 

Face pushes back in, “Fuck, boss, that’s so tight...” he’s moving forward all the time, creeping in millimetre by millimetre and Hannibal looks up, holding his eyes as he edges in, and it is, hands down, the hottest thing he has ever seen in his life.  

 

“Christ, Face, you are so beautiful...” and he is. The sweat standing out on his forehead and his arms trembling as he tries to hold himself back. His eyes, bright blue around the blown irises, fixed on his boss as he fills him completely, and then he’s in.

 

He almost collapses against Hannibal’s chest as he stops and Hannibal can tell from his breathing that he is holding back, trying to calm himself down, determined he’s not going to come just yet and so Hannibal lets him wait, stroking the back of his head, but he’s desperate for some movement.

 

Eventually it comes. Face lifts himself up a bit and offers a shaky grin at Hannibal and then draws back, before sliding straight back in again.

 

“Jesus...”

 

“Fuck...”

 

They laugh together and then Face does it again and its suddenly not so easy to laugh as the heat starts to build. Face is still taking it slowly, one long pull out and one long push in and its fucking incredible, but not what Hannibal wants. “Faster...” he growls as Face reaches the end of a pull back and Face’s hips seem to respond automatically, snapping back in faster and harder than before, “Oh, yes...”

 

And that undoes him completely, Hannibal can tell the exact second he loses control and its the most incredible thing ever. Hannibal’s hands fist in the sheets, the blankets, the pillows as Face drives into him over and over again, eyes locked on his boss’ face the entire time.

 

But soon even that isn’t enough and Hannibal is pushing back into him, meeting him thrust for thrust, pulling obscene moans from both their mouths. And then, as Hannibal’s hips rise, Face meets his prostrate head on and his arm is in his mouth again, stifling a shout.

 

“You like that?” Face is breathing hard. “If I do it like this? Is that right?”

 

Hannibal can only arch his back into the thrusts and throw his head back against the pillows, chewing his arm to keep the noise down.

 

“Jesus, boss, this is fucking incredible...”

 

It’s obvious that Face hasn’t got long left in him, and Hannibal himself is bathed in sweat, his legs cramping up and he’s struggling to keep his knee up. Face seems to read his mind and grabs hold of his slipping knee, pulling it back up and resting his calf on his shoulder, before slipping his hand down and grabbing Hannibal’s cock.

 

“Come on, boss...” his thrusts are getting erratic, “I need to see you come for me...”

 

And that just finishes him off, as Face nails his prostrate again and again and works his cock frantically, he comes hard and fast, spilling all over his stomach and his boy’s hand.

 

“Oh, fuck...!” and that’s the only warning he gets before Face comes as well, and he feels the strangest sensation of fluid warmth filling him inside and he knows it’s a feeling he wants again and again.

 

Then Face collapses on top of him and Hannibal brings his arms up to go around him and they lay still, hearts pounding, sweat cooling and the smell of semen all around them.

 

Face tries to slide off him, but Hannibal holds him still.

 

“I must be crushing you boss...” Face’s voice is sleep-slurred and it brings a smile to Hannibal’s face. He shifts to one side and lets Face slip onto the mattress next to him.

 

“Okay kid?”

 

“Fucking fantastic, boss...” he cracks open an eye, “you?”

 

“Never been better...”

 

“You want another go?” and Hannibal smiles again because, right now, there’s nothing Face looks less likely of achieving.

 

“Go to sleep...”

 

“Am I okay to stay here?”

 

Hannibal clenches his jaw as he imagines who in their right mind would ever throw Face out of their bed, but he just leans over and kisses him on the top of his head, “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

 

And that seems to be all Face needs to know as within thirty seconds he’s breathing slowly and steadily, his head on Hannibal’s shoulder, arm and leg thrown across his torso, looking like he’s about nineteen, and for all Hannibal knows, he probably is.

 

Hannibal looks over to his jacket, laid across the chair at the end of the bed and thinks of the cigars in the pocket. He really could murder a cigar right about now, but he’s sure as hell not going to move. He slips his arm around Face’s shoulder and the kid snuggles in a bit more and Hannibal knows that this is all going to work out just fine.   

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