Six Times Face Cried - Epilogue
Sep. 18th, 2011 04:52 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
indigo_angelsThe mission was like nothing else on earth that I had ever experienced. It was the biggest, craziest, most intense adrenalin rush of my entire life, but we did everything we were supposed to do, damn quick, no causalities, in and out so fast that no one even knew we were there. Until things started blowing up of course. But by then we were already on our way out, the boss counting everyone back into the chopper, his eyes narrow and intense, only relaxing once we were all in, once he got his cigar, once his eyes met mine.
“Alright kiddo?” he asked and I could almost see the tension creeping out of him. I nodded, smiling back, relieved it was all over and that I had done my part just as I should. “Just like the plan, huh?” he added, winking at me and I felt that crazy warmth starting up again, filling me from the inside out as I thought of his plan, what he had done for me.
We got back to base at the start of two weeks R&R. People had plans all over the country, but first of all it was Atlanta, everyone in the same hotel for one night of fun; packing up the house on base was crazy, it was a wonder we all got out in one piece.
I’d passed through Atlanta before, plenty of times, but never really been there, never stopped to look around. We got to the hotel a little after five. “Twenty minutes!” Mario barked as he dished key cards out at the elevators, “Anyone who isn’t here, gets ditched, you got that boys? There’s a beer with my name on and it’s getting warm...”
I hung back a bit as people scrabbled for cards, moaned that they wouldn’t be able to get ready in that time, bitched about how come Mario thought he was in charge. I’d never done this before, socialised with a group of people like this, been part of a group and I wasn’t sure how it worked, how I needed to play things, so I just kept out of the way. But then there was that hand on my shoulder again, all that heat through my shirt and a voice at my ear, “You’re in with me, kid,” and that fire in my stomach started to pool all over again.
The night out was like the mission had been, a crazy whirlwind of sights and sounds and adrenalin again. This was the first time I had been out with the team for anything other than a few sedate beers and it certainly was an eye opener. It was starting to get light as we staggered back to the hotel, the boss’ arm tight around my shoulders as he steered me up the marble steps towards the elevators while Spike repeated his latest karaoke number for the benefit of the staff manning the hotel Reception.
By the time Hannibal and I reached our room, I was just about dead on my feet and tried to crash out on the nearest bed, but the boss was having none of it. “Oh, no you don’t,” he laughed, hauling me to my feet again and pushing me into the en-suite, “you’ll feel enough like shit in the morning as it is without passing out in your clothes. In there.”
I stood, or swayed more likely, as he undid the top two buttons of my shirt before yanking the entire thing over my head, then that roiling fire in my gut ignited with a flash as those fingers dropped to the waistband of my jeans and popped the button, sliding the zipper down and yanking the denim over my hips and around my knees. My brain was too full of alcohol to really work out what was going on, but I stood dumbly and watched as he stripped off my shoes and socks before dragging my jeans away, leaving me standing in my trunks in front of him.
It was strange, I wanted him, of course I did, but I suddenly felt a wave of despair wash over me. I hadn’t wanted it like this, with all my options taken away; another man just out to get whatever he could from me. I hung my head and was relieved to see that the alcohol was dulling more than just my mind, my half hard cock not too obvious in my shorts. But then, just at the point when I was expecting the command, the order to go and get myself ready for him on the bed, or over the desk or up against the wall or on my knees or whatever, there was a hand on my cheek, lifting my head up and I found myself looking into smiling blue eyes, the glimmer of lust just peering through from underneath.
“Get washed, take a leak and clean your teeth,” he told me. “I’ll leave you some water on your nightstand. If you think you can keep it down, drink it. It’ll take the edge off your head in the morning.” And then that hand slid around to the back of my neck and squeezed before he slipped out past me, closing the door behind him as he went.
I stood and stared at the closed door, wondering what the hell had just happened. He wanted me, I was sure of that, could read that look in a man’s eye with ease, so...? I stood for a moment longer, then realised I really did need to take a leak and so starting getting ready for bed.
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Sleep came easily that night, but it wasn’t sound. I tossed and turned all night, hyper aware of the body in the bed not two feet away from me. It was only as the hot morning sun crept in through the curtains that I slipped into something deeper and more restful, only to be woken by that hand again, this time brushing the hair back from my brow and I opened my eyes to find him crouched in front of me, still damp from the shower, white towel wrapped around his lean hips. I felt my cock jump to attention under the sheets and was eternally glad I was covered up as he smiled and spoke to me, his voice quiet and low.
“You can go back to sleep if you want, kid,” he whispered, “but breakfast finishes in twenty minutes, didn’t know if you wanted some or not.”
I pushed myself up onto one arm, testing my stomach, testing my head, then cracked a bleary smile at him. “Sure,” my voice was rough, all down to the alcohol I was sure and nothing to do with his close proximity and virtual nakedness, “I’ll just grab a quick shower.”
We were the only ones from our team down at breakfast. Hannibal thought a few had already left on early flights, heading out to see family all over the states and I made sure I kept my expression neutral at that news, wasn’t their fault that they had a family when I didn't.
“So, what are you doing then, boss?” I asked, hardly daring to hear the answer.
He looked up from his muesli, hair still damp from the shower and fixed me with his steady blue eyes, “I don't know yet,” he’d answered carefully and I couldn’t help the ridiculous thrill that ran through me at those words.
I glanced back into my own bowl of Cocoa Krispies and tried to will the heat in my cheeks to die down as I felt his eyes on the top of my head still. “What about you?” his words were measured, hesitant, and I wondered if he was worried about upsetting me, aware of my lack of people to visit, or whether he too had something he was hoping I would say.
In the end I just shrugged and kept my eyes on my cereal.
“So,” it had taken him a good few minutes to build up to this next question, “who gave you the watch then? Is it the priest that’s listed as your next of kin?” and I felt myself chill at the question. Had that been why he was so hesitant in asking? He was only worried about upsetting me?
“No.” I didn't want this conversation, had to bring it to a close as soon as possible. “He’s dead. Heart attack while I was in basic. Couldn’t go to his funeral, wouldn’t give me leave ‘cause he wasn’t a close relative.” I risked a glance up as I pushed my chair back, ostensibly on my way to get some more food, but really just to put an end to this line of questioning, and saw the look on the boss’ face and felt bad, knowing that my deliberately cold words had had their desired effect. By the time I’d returned from a few laps of the buffet, our table was empty and I swallowed down the cold chill that ran through me as I slid into my seat and set about eating the bacon and sausages I now had no appetite for.
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After that point the day had gone in a direction that I never would have anticipated, never in a million years. I suppose that’s what life with Hannibal Smith would be like, although I have to say, the worst part it wasn’t anything to do with him, he was as much as innocent participant in everything as I was.
I’d choked down most of my breakfast on my own, wanting to go up to the room and find him, but dreading seeing that he’d already packed up and disappeared, not wanting to spend anymore of his precious free time with a lonely, morose subordinate. And then he reappeared, slipped back into the seat in front of me and pushed a couple of leaflets my way. “Right, kiddo,” he’d said, voice businesslike and brisk, “I’ve booked us into the hotel for an extra couple of nights, gonna show you round the city, all the good bits the other tourists don’t see and then a week up at Rich Mountain, thought we’d do a bit of hiking, maybe a bit of climbing, then get back to base so I can get the rest of my paperwork sorted before we’re back on. How’s that sound to you?”
He held me with his eyes again and I just stared at him, completely and utterly dumbstruck. The ability that this man had to shock me was unsurpassed by anything I had ever experienced.
“That sound good?” he prompted again as I continued to stare at him, mouth open like a fish.
In the end I had nodded before forcing my mouth to spit out the words, “But, boss, I can’t pay you... I-”
“I never asked for any money, Face,” Hannibal said as he got back to his feet. “Was going to do something like this anyway, and now I have some company, so that’s great. You ready to go out in about twenty minutes?”
I just nodded again as he smiled at me and turned on his heel.
~~~~~
It was almost completely dark as I sat in the little sidewalk bar drinking my second beer of the night and waited for Hannibal to get back from the washroom. It was just starting to cool down and my bare arms were sprinkled in gooseflesh but I found it hard to care. We’d had an unbelievable day; Hannibal obviously knew Atlanta like the back of his hand and we’d been to all the little corners and squares and tiny museums and art galleries. We’d bought sandwiches from an almost hidden sandwich shop and eaten them laid in the sun in a quietly empty park then finishing our day at a little sushi bar, before winding up here for a couple of beers until it was time to head back to the hotel.
The day had been great, Atlanta had really grown on me, but spending the day with Hannibal was the one thing that had really blown me away. We had talked almost non-stop all day, about anything and everything and I felt like I had already known him my entire life. He was so easy to talk to, so easy to listen to and I really felt that he was listening to me, like he gave a damn about what I said, and he had a way of looking at me as I was speaking that made me think I was the most important person in his universe.
I looked down at my frosty bottle of Bud and sighed. If I’d thought I was in love with Hannibal before today, well, that was nothing to how I felt now. So, the question was, how did he feel about me?
Well, that was a tricky one. Sometimes I’d caught him looking at me with what could only be described as a meaningful glance, and sometimes he seemed to brush up against me, linger just that little bit too long as our arms touched, things like that. And then there was the way that he had looked at me last night in the en-suite. He’d wanted me, I was sure of that, absolutely, but he hadn’t done anything about it, not then, not now. So what the hell did that mean?
I wasn’t stupid, I thought as I rolled my bottle across the table and looked out at the evening traffic, he did want me, I was sure of that, but I was also sure that he wasn’t going to do anything about it. DADT, subordinate, crazy fucked up kid, I didn’t know which of those, maybe all of them, were holding him back, but something was, and I was fairly sure that Hannibal Smith was strong enough to resist any temptations that might come his way. It looked like I was just going to have to learn to live with mine.
I was roused from my thoughts by the sound of a horn, low and loud, obviously belonging to a truck and I looked around in time to see a big rig hurtling towards me, the driver slumped down over the wheel, sounding the horn with his head and I leaped to my feet.
There were only three tables outside on the sidewalk, one was empty, and a young woman sat at the third, iPod buds in her ears as she read the book folded back into one hand. I knew I could get out of the way of the rig in time, but knew she didn’t even have a clue it was coming. Everything seemed to run down into slow motion as I went for her. I looked in through the windows of the bar, wondering if anyone was close to the glass on the inside and made direct eye contact with Hannibal just as he came from the washrooms at the back. He froze and I could see the reflection of the rig behind us, knew how close it was getting, could see from the panicked expression on his face that it was going to hit any second. I reached the woman just as she began to sense that something was wrong and was getting to her feet. That was helpful, that was going to make moving her a hell of a lot easier.
The rig’s horn was almost deafening now, and people had already started screaming in anticipation of the carnage that was about to unfold, but over it all, I could still hear Hannibal’s voice, yelling my name and as my hand closed down on the woman’s wrist and I started dragging her to the side, I was relieved to see that the boss was so far back in the bar that he should be safe, that the angle of the rig would take it to the left of the bar and into the empty little shop next door. After it wiped out all the sidewalk tables of course.
I could smell it now, the diesel and the heated rubber and knew I had no time left. With every ounce of strength I could muster, I shoved the woman ahead of me, aiming for the little archway between the shop and the bar, hoping to take advantage of whatever protection the crumbling walls could provide and then the entire world just seemed to explode.
The noise was deafening; a cacophony of bangs and thuds and scraping and screaming and everything started to rain down from the sky above, bricks, masonry, drain pipes, even a flower pot crashed heavily onto my shoulder. I felt my legs go from underneath me and I made sure I fell right on top of the young woman as the world continued to disintegrate around me and then suddenly went black.
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When my eyes opened again, there was an eerie silence that at first scared the shit out of me, I was seriously beginning to wonder if I was dead before I realised it was just the fact that I was buried under about a ton of rubble that made it so quiet. Great. Much better then...
I shifted as much as I could, testing both my prison and the extent of my injuries and heard a quiet moan from underneath me, remembering at once the woman and feeling the surge of relief that my ridiculous heroics had, at least, not been in vain. I was also pleased beyond measure that we seemed to be trapped in some kind of accidental bunker, a large piece of what felt like wall had fallen over us in one piece, protecting us from the rest of the lethal debris and also creating a little air pocket. For once in my life, I felt damn, damn lucky.
The moan from beneath me was more pronounced now, and I could feel struggling, so I took a risk and eased myself backwards, pushing myself more into the apex of our shelter and off the woman below me. “You okay?” I asked her, my voice making me jump in the deathly quiet but she didn’t answer. Instead I reached out and felt for her, my fingers finding warm flesh, wet and sticky with blood, but whose I didn’t know. So she was alive, unconscious, probably bleeding quite heavily as I didn’t seem to hurt too badly, but definitely alive. Well, that was a start.
I shuffled around again, this time trying to get my knees up underneath me and felt my back jar the masonry above. There was another also deafening scrape as the wall slid a little further down onto me and I froze terrified that I was going to bring the whole lot down, but it settled again. Then, just as my heart began to steady once more there was the sound, quite close by, of an explosion. Not the type of explosion you get in a war zone, not like last week when our carefully set charges started blowing that war lord’s compound to pieces, no, this was an explosion caused by a build up of pressure, and just as I began to wonder what had caused it, water started pouring in from above.
It’s funny how calm you can be in a situation like that, but as soon as it struck me that the water was actually filling our little refuge up and we were in sudden danger of being drowned by the very structure that had saved our lives, I started to laugh. It was ironic in the highest degree that something like that could happen, that the one thing that had saved us would now kill us. I shook my head in complete and utter disbelief before hauling the unfortunate woman whose life I thought I had saved, up off the ground and into my arms, fishing her out of the already rising pool of frigid water.
It was blatantly clear that we had only minutes, if not seconds left. The water was rising quickly, filling our refuge with terrifying speed, and I knew that if I tried to push too hard, tried to create a space for it all to escape, I would only ending up crushing us both. I had a few seconds to decide on how we should die, and went for drowning over crushing. I was probably wrong but I figured it would hurt less. The noise of the water was deafening, but my increasingly foggy mind started playing tricks on me, replaying the sound I’d heard just before the rig had hit, Hannibal calling my name, over and over, the fear and desperation clear in his tone. I really wished my head would behave, did I really want the last thing I heard on this earth to be the man I loved sounding so scared and frantic? No, definitely not.
I felt a shudder of regret run through me that I would never get to know him better, that he would never get the chance to see all that I could become. That we would never get the chance to be something more together. Then I closed my eyes and resigned myself to the truth as I felt the water licking around my chin and lifted my helpless companion higher; at least this way I never had to face the fact that Hannibal Smith would never want me the way I wanted him, not enough to do anything about it at any rate. The coldness of that thought washed through me along with the water and I just closed my eyes, feeling those icy tongues licking up my face and resigning myself to drowning on the street in Atlanta. Ironic.
I let the water in, no desire to face an end struggling in the stone tomb we were locked in, envying my companion and her continued oblivion and felt it run into my mouth, my nose, down my throat, and then my traitorous body rebelled. I tried to force myself to keep still, had no desire to be crushed after all, but my limbs had other ideas and they thrashed about, forcing my head up against the fallen wall, seeking out the possibility of an air hole somewhere near the top, but nothing was forthcoming. I could feel blackness pushing in from all around me, and my lungs were burning but refusing to take a breath. I knew that one good lungful would see me on my way, all that cold, cold water would ease the burning and I would be free of my prison within seconds, but I suppose my self preservation, the thing that has kept me fighting all these years, just wasn’t ready to give up quite yet. It didn’t matter much – in the end it wouldn’t have any choice.
And then I wondered if it had already happened, it felt like a huge, powerful hand had taken hold of me and my unconscious charge, scooped us up from underneath and threw us out of the masonry tomb. I felt myself flying, absently wondering if we were going up or down, if holding on to this woman who was undoubtedly a better person than I was would increase my chances at getting in above, but then the pain in my legs, my back, my head made me doubt we were heading for the pearly gates and we suddenly stopped, icy cold gripping me from all sides, painful, wracking coughs almost splitting me in half and I began to think I wasn’t actually dead after all.
The noise after the silence of the tomb was deafening; sirens, rushing water, screaming, footsteps, and that voice, the voice I’d heard all the time, calling my name, frantic, desperate, getting louder.
“Sir!” I heard another voice this time and tried to force my eyes open, closing them almost instantly against the glare of a million flashing lights. “Sir! You can’t go over there! It’s still too dangerous! Wait for the fire crew, God damn you!!”
But whoever was being told to wait was having none of it, I could hear their footsteps crunching through the debris as they came closer and heard the voice again, suddenly not so terrified and gloriously close, as I struggled to sit up. “Face! Face! Oh, God, kid, you’re alive, shit, I never thought, never thought...”
And just as I managed to force an eye to stay open he was there, his wonderfully familiar bulk outlined against the blue and red flashing lights behind him, hands, large and warm, skimming over me, showing me I was far from dead.
“Boss-” I started before the coughing over took me again and those warm hands were holding me, lifting me from the rubble cutting into my back and leaning me against his solid heat at the same time that other hands appeared, taking my charge, trying to pull her away and I held on, not willing for her to make that journey to the pearly gates alone.
“It’s okay,” Hannibal’s voice, thick with some indefinable emotion was right at my ear, “let her go kid, the ambulance staff are going to take her now. Let her go, you did good, you saved her, now let them take over.”
And suddenly I was so tired that I couldn’t hold on anymore anyway. Her weight slipped from my arms and I listened as footsteps and voices retreated once more, leaving just me and the boss, his arms tight and warm around me, holding me to this earth. With him. I started to fade out all over, every limb getting heavier, every thought getting harder when I felt his nose on my cold cheek, his words warm in my ear, “God, I thought I’d lost you, precious boy. I thought you were gone.” There was a noise, something suspiciously like a sob and I tried to open my eyes or get my mouth working, tried to tell him not to worry about me, that I wasn’t worth his worry, when that heat from my ear moved and for one glorious, unbelievable second I thought I felt it pressed against my lips, hot and slow and claiming but then the darkness that had been hovering so tight around me suddenly closed in and I slid back into the thick black.
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The rest of the night passed by in a bit of a surreal blur. I remember waking up in a stark white room with lots of unfamiliar faces pressed around me and I just panicked. Trying to shove them away, tugging at the needles they were trying to push into me, total and utter panic until that calm voice was there at my ear, those large hands, smoothing and comforting, his face, the one I hadn’t been able to make out earlier in the dark, leaning over me, so welcome and familiar, streaked with dirt and dust, smiling at me, telling me it was okay, I could trust these people, I was safe, he wasn’t going to leave me, was never going to leave me... And I closed my eyes and slipped away again, wishing that when I woke up once it was all still going to be true.
When I did wake up again, he was still there, sitting in a chair at my bedside, his face a mask of quiet concern. I looked at him, and then around the room with its white walls and empty corners and I knew I didn't want to stay here. I could feel him looking at me so I flicked my eyes back, trying so hard to keep the tears and the hysteria at bay. “That woman...?” I murmured, talking more painful than I could ever imagine.
Hannibal smiled as he leaned over me, “She’s doing okay, kid. Still sleeping, but the docs think she’ll be fine.”
I nodded. Good. That was important. Then I looked back into his eyes, “I don’t want to be here...” I whispered feeling the traitorous prickling at the back of my eyes and trying to will it away.
I saw the way his eyes changed and had to screw my own closed against that look of, what was it? Disappointment? that crossed his face, but felt him lean in anyway.
“Okay,” his voice was rough. “The docs are happy with you, say you can go as soon as you feel up to it-”
“I’m up to it now,” I interrupted, eyes still shut tight against the tears as I felt his hand skim briefly across my shoulder.
“I’ll go and sort it out then,” he whispered and as I heard his chair scrape back, I finally let the tears out.
_______________
He helped me get dressed at the hospital into clothes of mine he’d had sent over from the hotel, then when we got back he steered me into the shower and gently washed all the dirt and dust off me as I stood and leaned against the cold tiles. I had somehow, miraculously, escaped major injury but my entire body was covered in scrapes and bruises, even standing was difficult and so I swallowed my embarrassment and let him tend to me like a child. Within half an hour we were done, I was clean and warm and dried off and he was helping me into the bed in our room just as the grey dawn light started to creep in.
It was such a relief to relax at last, and I let my tired eyes slide closed, looking forward to the rest and to waking up feeling like I was actually alive rather than one of the walking dead. His hand, warm and welcome, slid into my hair and started stroking, slowly, calmly, soothing me towards sleep as he sat beside me on the mattress. I let out a long breath and let myself slip away, welcoming the peace of oblivion.
It didn’t last. After what only seemed like minutes I was back in the cloying depths of that hole, dusty hands and watery fingers running over my face, trying to choke me or suffocate me or slide into my lungs and drown me. I tried to fight them off but there was a heavy weight in my arms and I looked down, into the face of the young woman, her eyes open and staring and lifeless and as I stared back she suddenly shifted, morphed completely into Hannibal, his skin pale and waxy, his blues eyes dead. I woke up screaming.
The boss was there, holding me tight, stroking my face, telling me it was all okay, he was here, I was safe, he was with me, but the way his words would never mean what I wanted them to mean just reduced me to tears, every single time, every one of the countless damn times I woke up that night/day, humiliating myself with my screams and my hysterics.
So it was, when I finally awoke naturally, that terror abating long enough to let me have a few scant hours rest at last, that the poor boss looked almost as bad as I felt. And that was pretty bad.
As soon as he saw my eyes open and blinking at him, he was on his knees at the side of the bed, that hand in my hair once more, smoothing it back, CNN playing silently in the corner, the crumpled rig and the demolished bar looking hellish in the cold light of day. “Hey,” he whispered, the concern evident in his eyes, “you okay?”
I nodded and pushed myself into a sitting position, wincing as every bump and bruise and ache woke up and said hello, feeling my cheeks flush as I thought of the night and day of screaming and tears and nightmares.
His hand was in my hair again, I could almost feel his concern and it just ate me up. “Don’t...” I snapped at him, a little harsher than I had intended. He froze instantly, and moved his hand, withdrawing it slowly as if he feared I would bite. An awkward silence fell and I buried my face in my palms, so glad he’d been here all this time, but wishing he hadn’t all at the same time; wishing he hadn’t seen me at my worst. “I’m sorry,” I told him, voice rough, “I don’t know what came over me, it’s like I just lost my control, sorry...”
I heard him huff a little ironically and then that hand was back for a fraction of a second before he remembered and whipped it away. “Kid, you were almost crushed by a truck, buried alive and then drowned. I think you are entitled to a few nightmares...”
I shook my head, face still buried in my palms and then that hand was back, just like he couldn’t keep it away. “God, Face...” his voice was quiet and shaking and so unlike the boss that I had to look up, “I know I’ve had a few myself... Thought I’d lost you...” he tailed off into nothing and sat staring at the duvet cover, his hand still in my hair, his eyes suspiciously bright.
His words sparked a memory in me; arms tight and warm around me, holding me to the earth, limbs getting heavier, thoughts getting harder, words warm in my ear, “God, I thought I’d lost you, precious boy. I thought you were gone.” A noise like a sob and heat against my lips, hot and slow and claiming...
I stared at him in shock, “You kissed me...” the words out of my mouth in a hoarse whisper before I could stop them.
His head shot up, his eyes wide and just damn scared staring right at me. Time seemed to stand perfectly still as we looked at each other, my desperate brain trying to process the look on his face, why he did this, what it meant.
“I’m sorry...” he whispered and as I stared in absolute shock a single tear rolled out of his eye and down his cheek, unchecked by his shaking fingers. “I was just relieved that’s all, I’d thought... well, it doesn’t matter what I thought, but... I’m sorry, so sorry, it was an imposition, I realise that now, I just...” he hung his head again, “It won’t happen again...”
“It won’t?” my brain was past the stage of rational, sensible conversation by that point, and that shocked, devastated little outburst was the only thing I was capable of.
“No,” he looked unsure now, torn, as if he didn’t know which way to jump. “I...” he scrubbed a hand through his hair then looked back at me, “I saw you go for that woman when you could have got yourself clear,” he whispered, “saw that truck take you out,” I stared at him as he shook his head, “Jesus, Face, the wall came down on you and then the explosion and the water... The Fire Chief said you were both goners, even before the whole damn thing collapsed...” The hand was back in my hair and it slid down to rest at the base of my neck once more, like so many other times since I’d known him. “The thought that you were dead, all that life just washed out of you,” another tear slipped out. “I couldn’t keep away, they told me not to, but I was past caring, if you were dead, then what did any of it matter anymore?” I continued to stare at him, his words making little sense in my head, “But then I found you,” his voice was so quiet I had to strain to hear it and a little smile fluttered over his lips, “and I held you, and you were still with me, and suddenly nothing else mattered...”
His voice slipped away into nothing and I was hyper aware of the fact that we were so close, his hand on the back of my neck edging me closer millimetre by millimetre. My eyes held his, the fear in them spiking a corresponding fear in my heart, then those shining blue eyes jumped to my lips and it was like someone somewhere finally flicked a switch and we surged forward into each other, lips meeting in a desperate, frantic, union, all heat and fear and pent up desire surging out of us both, his hand on my neck gripping tight now, the other one sliding up my jaw, holding me hard at just the right angle to plunder my mouth, my hands both threading into his short hair, feeling it slide between my fingers as I held him still, never wanting him to go, never wanting him to leave me.
The kiss was like no kiss I had ever experienced. Like anything to do with Hannibal Smith it was right at the very edge of extreme. Eventually though I had to jerk away, my abused lungs struggling to breathe, my body still so highly strung I couldn’t persuade it to do without oxygen any longer. He tried to pull back and I knew I’d worried him so I held on, keeping my hands right where they were and leaning in to whisper in his ear, “I need you, boss, please don’t go,” and he was instantly back, his mouth on mine, short desperate nips this time as I slid my hand down and grabbed to edge of his t-shirt, yanking it up, pulling us apart for the second it took to get it over his head and then letting us crash together again, like magnets, pulled apart and allowed to surge back. I was clawing at him, I couldn’t get him close enough. Ignoring the aches in my muscles I kicked and pushed at the duvet until it fell away and let me pull him down on top on me, feeling the contrast between the hard lines of muscle and soft cotton of his shorts as he spread his weight down me body, his mouth slipping to kiss along my jaw, my neck and I lifted for him, arching my whole body into his, offering everything I had to him.
“Oh, god, sweet boy,” he whispered between desperate kisses and I couldn’t help the way my body reacted to that, surging up to meet him, feeling my heavy, hot erection push right into his through the last layers of clothes and then we were fighting to get free, a frantic scramble of hands and fingers pulling at our shorts, both of us wanting nothing but skin, nothing but heat, and then it was there.
I moaned, long and loud at that first feeling of smooth hot flesh against the skin of my hip and he thrust hard into me in response, nipping at my neck, whispering in my ear, “God help me, Face, I just can’t get enough of you.” My hands flew to his ass at those words, pulling him down harder, jamming him against me as I pushed up into him, all that incredible heat and friction and feeling making my head spin.
“I want you,” he whispered, thrusting faster and faster into my hip, “I want to come inside you, I want to make love to you. Will you let me, darling boy? Will you open up to me?”
I didn't need asking twice, my legs flew open of their own accord and he moaned, a ragged, desperate sound of pure need as he thrust into that warm space, my lungs giving him his own answering sound as I felt the insistent heat of his cock as it pushed up into the flesh of my ass. I was just wondering how we were going to do this, when we were going to do this as I could already feel my climax creeping up on me when he pulled me up, one arm around my waist, lifting me like I weighed no more than a child and swinging me around until I was sat on his lap, back to chest, both our legs hanging over the side of the bed, his red hot erection trapped underneath me, his right hand on my own length, slowly stroking me as his left hand routed around in the bag on the chair next to him, finally coming up with a pot of Vaseline.
“I wanted to watch you,” he whispered as he dropped my erection to open the pot, and I looked up, straight into the full length mirror he’d positioned us right in front of and almost came on the spot. He noticed my jerk and the way my cock leaped at the sight and laughed against my neck, “That’s what I thought too,” he whispered, and then I felt his slick fingers easing me forward, sliding towards their goal and then finally claiming their prize, tipping me forward onto my feet as two fingers slid straight inside me, pushing past the tight rose bud muscle with an ease born of pure desire.
I shuddered and moaned, tipping back, forcing those fingers right up inside me as I pushed back on him and he groaned in reply, “Oh, Face, I can’t wait any longer, god, I need you now, I’m sorry, I need you, lift up...”
I wasn’t sorry at all and lifted onto my toes, waiting until I felt his hands spreading me open, that blunt pressure right at my entrance and then I fell back, impaling myself straight onto him, crying out, low and long as I felt that red hot heat searing right into me.
“Jesus Christ!” he hissed into my ear as his hands pulled me down even tighter, his hips already bucking up, his hand back on my cock, squeezing and tugging in a way that was starting to wring my climax straight out of me. “Open your eyes!” he whispered, his voice barely controlled and wavering with every desperate thrust of his hips and I forced them open, totally unaware that they had ever closed.
The sight that met me will stay with me forever, his eyes, dark with lust were fixed on mine in the mirror, one strong arm was wrapped across my stomach, making sure I stayed joined with him, the other was pumping my cock, his long fingers swathed right around the red flesh, his hips were twitching in time with his hand, my own legs spread obscenely wide over his. But it was the expression on his face that took me apart, the total and utter openness, nothing short of complete adoration as he pumped into me, and I just lost it. I wanted to watch, I really did, but my body was no longer under my control, I arched my back, shoving myself down as hard as I could onto him, my head thudding back onto his shoulder , hands squeezing his hips hard as he drove into me, big hand working my cock as I came, pumping my semen out over his fingers, dimly registering the noise it made is it splattered the mirror, but then everything else was wiped out of my head by the roar in my ear and the pulsing cock in my ass as it emptied red hot heat inside me, flowing out and joining us at last, making us one, giving us both what we needed so badly.
My legs gave way right after that, and I suddenly remembered that I’d been run over by a truck not twenty hours ago as painful cramps seized my limbs. Hannibal seemed to understand at once. He slid himself out of me, both of us registering the sudden cold emptiness we felt at the movement, and then lifted me up, lying me down on the bed and manoeuvring himself to lie next to me before I even had the chance to complain at his absence.
His propped himself up on one elbow and slid his arm underneath my head, his free hand running back to my hair, brushing the sweaty strands away from my face and bending to drop a chaste kiss to my forehead. I just looked up at him, wondering how the hell all that had just happened, and what on earth we were going to do about it.
“What have we done?” I heard myself say, another one of those moments when my mouth seems to be completely disconnected to my brain. His hand stopped its careful stroking and his brow furrowed as I felt the cold thrill of fear run through me.
“You regretting it already?” he asked gently, but I could hear the sadness in his voice.
“God, no boss,” I whispered, that stupid catch in my words and I grabbed at his hand with both of mine, holding it to my face, kissing the heel of his palm, keeping him close. “It’s just now...” I shook my head, “I can never go back to not having you – not after that...”
His eyes swam with liquid again as he leaned over me, “Oh, no, and you will never have to. Don't you see it yet, Face? I love you. With everything that I am, since the very first second I lay eyes on you at Benning, all I’ve ever wanted is this. Is you.”
I closed my eyes at that, pushing back my own tears before opening them again and staring up at him, marvelling at the honesty and the love in his face. I had no words I could say back, nothing as precious as the gift he had just given me, and I knew if I even tried I would just end up in tears again, so instead I slid my own hand up and around the back of his neck, squeezing gently as he had done so many times for me, before gently pulling him in and kissing him, showing him with everything I had just what he meant to me.
And I know he understood.
“Alright kiddo?” he asked and I could almost see the tension creeping out of him. I nodded, smiling back, relieved it was all over and that I had done my part just as I should. “Just like the plan, huh?” he added, winking at me and I felt that crazy warmth starting up again, filling me from the inside out as I thought of his plan, what he had done for me.
We got back to base at the start of two weeks R&R. People had plans all over the country, but first of all it was Atlanta, everyone in the same hotel for one night of fun; packing up the house on base was crazy, it was a wonder we all got out in one piece.
I’d passed through Atlanta before, plenty of times, but never really been there, never stopped to look around. We got to the hotel a little after five. “Twenty minutes!” Mario barked as he dished key cards out at the elevators, “Anyone who isn’t here, gets ditched, you got that boys? There’s a beer with my name on and it’s getting warm...”
I hung back a bit as people scrabbled for cards, moaned that they wouldn’t be able to get ready in that time, bitched about how come Mario thought he was in charge. I’d never done this before, socialised with a group of people like this, been part of a group and I wasn’t sure how it worked, how I needed to play things, so I just kept out of the way. But then there was that hand on my shoulder again, all that heat through my shirt and a voice at my ear, “You’re in with me, kid,” and that fire in my stomach started to pool all over again.
The night out was like the mission had been, a crazy whirlwind of sights and sounds and adrenalin again. This was the first time I had been out with the team for anything other than a few sedate beers and it certainly was an eye opener. It was starting to get light as we staggered back to the hotel, the boss’ arm tight around my shoulders as he steered me up the marble steps towards the elevators while Spike repeated his latest karaoke number for the benefit of the staff manning the hotel Reception.
By the time Hannibal and I reached our room, I was just about dead on my feet and tried to crash out on the nearest bed, but the boss was having none of it. “Oh, no you don’t,” he laughed, hauling me to my feet again and pushing me into the en-suite, “you’ll feel enough like shit in the morning as it is without passing out in your clothes. In there.”
I stood, or swayed more likely, as he undid the top two buttons of my shirt before yanking the entire thing over my head, then that roiling fire in my gut ignited with a flash as those fingers dropped to the waistband of my jeans and popped the button, sliding the zipper down and yanking the denim over my hips and around my knees. My brain was too full of alcohol to really work out what was going on, but I stood dumbly and watched as he stripped off my shoes and socks before dragging my jeans away, leaving me standing in my trunks in front of him.
It was strange, I wanted him, of course I did, but I suddenly felt a wave of despair wash over me. I hadn’t wanted it like this, with all my options taken away; another man just out to get whatever he could from me. I hung my head and was relieved to see that the alcohol was dulling more than just my mind, my half hard cock not too obvious in my shorts. But then, just at the point when I was expecting the command, the order to go and get myself ready for him on the bed, or over the desk or up against the wall or on my knees or whatever, there was a hand on my cheek, lifting my head up and I found myself looking into smiling blue eyes, the glimmer of lust just peering through from underneath.
“Get washed, take a leak and clean your teeth,” he told me. “I’ll leave you some water on your nightstand. If you think you can keep it down, drink it. It’ll take the edge off your head in the morning.” And then that hand slid around to the back of my neck and squeezed before he slipped out past me, closing the door behind him as he went.
I stood and stared at the closed door, wondering what the hell had just happened. He wanted me, I was sure of that, could read that look in a man’s eye with ease, so...? I stood for a moment longer, then realised I really did need to take a leak and so starting getting ready for bed.
_________________
Sleep came easily that night, but it wasn’t sound. I tossed and turned all night, hyper aware of the body in the bed not two feet away from me. It was only as the hot morning sun crept in through the curtains that I slipped into something deeper and more restful, only to be woken by that hand again, this time brushing the hair back from my brow and I opened my eyes to find him crouched in front of me, still damp from the shower, white towel wrapped around his lean hips. I felt my cock jump to attention under the sheets and was eternally glad I was covered up as he smiled and spoke to me, his voice quiet and low.
“You can go back to sleep if you want, kid,” he whispered, “but breakfast finishes in twenty minutes, didn’t know if you wanted some or not.”
I pushed myself up onto one arm, testing my stomach, testing my head, then cracked a bleary smile at him. “Sure,” my voice was rough, all down to the alcohol I was sure and nothing to do with his close proximity and virtual nakedness, “I’ll just grab a quick shower.”
We were the only ones from our team down at breakfast. Hannibal thought a few had already left on early flights, heading out to see family all over the states and I made sure I kept my expression neutral at that news, wasn’t their fault that they had a family when I didn't.
“So, what are you doing then, boss?” I asked, hardly daring to hear the answer.
He looked up from his muesli, hair still damp from the shower and fixed me with his steady blue eyes, “I don't know yet,” he’d answered carefully and I couldn’t help the ridiculous thrill that ran through me at those words.
I glanced back into my own bowl of Cocoa Krispies and tried to will the heat in my cheeks to die down as I felt his eyes on the top of my head still. “What about you?” his words were measured, hesitant, and I wondered if he was worried about upsetting me, aware of my lack of people to visit, or whether he too had something he was hoping I would say.
In the end I just shrugged and kept my eyes on my cereal.
“So,” it had taken him a good few minutes to build up to this next question, “who gave you the watch then? Is it the priest that’s listed as your next of kin?” and I felt myself chill at the question. Had that been why he was so hesitant in asking? He was only worried about upsetting me?
“No.” I didn't want this conversation, had to bring it to a close as soon as possible. “He’s dead. Heart attack while I was in basic. Couldn’t go to his funeral, wouldn’t give me leave ‘cause he wasn’t a close relative.” I risked a glance up as I pushed my chair back, ostensibly on my way to get some more food, but really just to put an end to this line of questioning, and saw the look on the boss’ face and felt bad, knowing that my deliberately cold words had had their desired effect. By the time I’d returned from a few laps of the buffet, our table was empty and I swallowed down the cold chill that ran through me as I slid into my seat and set about eating the bacon and sausages I now had no appetite for.
___________________
After that point the day had gone in a direction that I never would have anticipated, never in a million years. I suppose that’s what life with Hannibal Smith would be like, although I have to say, the worst part it wasn’t anything to do with him, he was as much as innocent participant in everything as I was.
I’d choked down most of my breakfast on my own, wanting to go up to the room and find him, but dreading seeing that he’d already packed up and disappeared, not wanting to spend anymore of his precious free time with a lonely, morose subordinate. And then he reappeared, slipped back into the seat in front of me and pushed a couple of leaflets my way. “Right, kiddo,” he’d said, voice businesslike and brisk, “I’ve booked us into the hotel for an extra couple of nights, gonna show you round the city, all the good bits the other tourists don’t see and then a week up at Rich Mountain, thought we’d do a bit of hiking, maybe a bit of climbing, then get back to base so I can get the rest of my paperwork sorted before we’re back on. How’s that sound to you?”
He held me with his eyes again and I just stared at him, completely and utterly dumbstruck. The ability that this man had to shock me was unsurpassed by anything I had ever experienced.
“That sound good?” he prompted again as I continued to stare at him, mouth open like a fish.
In the end I had nodded before forcing my mouth to spit out the words, “But, boss, I can’t pay you... I-”
“I never asked for any money, Face,” Hannibal said as he got back to his feet. “Was going to do something like this anyway, and now I have some company, so that’s great. You ready to go out in about twenty minutes?”
I just nodded again as he smiled at me and turned on his heel.
~~~~~
It was almost completely dark as I sat in the little sidewalk bar drinking my second beer of the night and waited for Hannibal to get back from the washroom. It was just starting to cool down and my bare arms were sprinkled in gooseflesh but I found it hard to care. We’d had an unbelievable day; Hannibal obviously knew Atlanta like the back of his hand and we’d been to all the little corners and squares and tiny museums and art galleries. We’d bought sandwiches from an almost hidden sandwich shop and eaten them laid in the sun in a quietly empty park then finishing our day at a little sushi bar, before winding up here for a couple of beers until it was time to head back to the hotel.
The day had been great, Atlanta had really grown on me, but spending the day with Hannibal was the one thing that had really blown me away. We had talked almost non-stop all day, about anything and everything and I felt like I had already known him my entire life. He was so easy to talk to, so easy to listen to and I really felt that he was listening to me, like he gave a damn about what I said, and he had a way of looking at me as I was speaking that made me think I was the most important person in his universe.
I looked down at my frosty bottle of Bud and sighed. If I’d thought I was in love with Hannibal before today, well, that was nothing to how I felt now. So, the question was, how did he feel about me?
Well, that was a tricky one. Sometimes I’d caught him looking at me with what could only be described as a meaningful glance, and sometimes he seemed to brush up against me, linger just that little bit too long as our arms touched, things like that. And then there was the way that he had looked at me last night in the en-suite. He’d wanted me, I was sure of that, absolutely, but he hadn’t done anything about it, not then, not now. So what the hell did that mean?
I wasn’t stupid, I thought as I rolled my bottle across the table and looked out at the evening traffic, he did want me, I was sure of that, but I was also sure that he wasn’t going to do anything about it. DADT, subordinate, crazy fucked up kid, I didn’t know which of those, maybe all of them, were holding him back, but something was, and I was fairly sure that Hannibal Smith was strong enough to resist any temptations that might come his way. It looked like I was just going to have to learn to live with mine.
I was roused from my thoughts by the sound of a horn, low and loud, obviously belonging to a truck and I looked around in time to see a big rig hurtling towards me, the driver slumped down over the wheel, sounding the horn with his head and I leaped to my feet.
There were only three tables outside on the sidewalk, one was empty, and a young woman sat at the third, iPod buds in her ears as she read the book folded back into one hand. I knew I could get out of the way of the rig in time, but knew she didn’t even have a clue it was coming. Everything seemed to run down into slow motion as I went for her. I looked in through the windows of the bar, wondering if anyone was close to the glass on the inside and made direct eye contact with Hannibal just as he came from the washrooms at the back. He froze and I could see the reflection of the rig behind us, knew how close it was getting, could see from the panicked expression on his face that it was going to hit any second. I reached the woman just as she began to sense that something was wrong and was getting to her feet. That was helpful, that was going to make moving her a hell of a lot easier.
The rig’s horn was almost deafening now, and people had already started screaming in anticipation of the carnage that was about to unfold, but over it all, I could still hear Hannibal’s voice, yelling my name and as my hand closed down on the woman’s wrist and I started dragging her to the side, I was relieved to see that the boss was so far back in the bar that he should be safe, that the angle of the rig would take it to the left of the bar and into the empty little shop next door. After it wiped out all the sidewalk tables of course.
I could smell it now, the diesel and the heated rubber and knew I had no time left. With every ounce of strength I could muster, I shoved the woman ahead of me, aiming for the little archway between the shop and the bar, hoping to take advantage of whatever protection the crumbling walls could provide and then the entire world just seemed to explode.
The noise was deafening; a cacophony of bangs and thuds and scraping and screaming and everything started to rain down from the sky above, bricks, masonry, drain pipes, even a flower pot crashed heavily onto my shoulder. I felt my legs go from underneath me and I made sure I fell right on top of the young woman as the world continued to disintegrate around me and then suddenly went black.
________________
When my eyes opened again, there was an eerie silence that at first scared the shit out of me, I was seriously beginning to wonder if I was dead before I realised it was just the fact that I was buried under about a ton of rubble that made it so quiet. Great. Much better then...
I shifted as much as I could, testing both my prison and the extent of my injuries and heard a quiet moan from underneath me, remembering at once the woman and feeling the surge of relief that my ridiculous heroics had, at least, not been in vain. I was also pleased beyond measure that we seemed to be trapped in some kind of accidental bunker, a large piece of what felt like wall had fallen over us in one piece, protecting us from the rest of the lethal debris and also creating a little air pocket. For once in my life, I felt damn, damn lucky.
The moan from beneath me was more pronounced now, and I could feel struggling, so I took a risk and eased myself backwards, pushing myself more into the apex of our shelter and off the woman below me. “You okay?” I asked her, my voice making me jump in the deathly quiet but she didn’t answer. Instead I reached out and felt for her, my fingers finding warm flesh, wet and sticky with blood, but whose I didn’t know. So she was alive, unconscious, probably bleeding quite heavily as I didn’t seem to hurt too badly, but definitely alive. Well, that was a start.
I shuffled around again, this time trying to get my knees up underneath me and felt my back jar the masonry above. There was another also deafening scrape as the wall slid a little further down onto me and I froze terrified that I was going to bring the whole lot down, but it settled again. Then, just as my heart began to steady once more there was the sound, quite close by, of an explosion. Not the type of explosion you get in a war zone, not like last week when our carefully set charges started blowing that war lord’s compound to pieces, no, this was an explosion caused by a build up of pressure, and just as I began to wonder what had caused it, water started pouring in from above.
It’s funny how calm you can be in a situation like that, but as soon as it struck me that the water was actually filling our little refuge up and we were in sudden danger of being drowned by the very structure that had saved our lives, I started to laugh. It was ironic in the highest degree that something like that could happen, that the one thing that had saved us would now kill us. I shook my head in complete and utter disbelief before hauling the unfortunate woman whose life I thought I had saved, up off the ground and into my arms, fishing her out of the already rising pool of frigid water.
It was blatantly clear that we had only minutes, if not seconds left. The water was rising quickly, filling our refuge with terrifying speed, and I knew that if I tried to push too hard, tried to create a space for it all to escape, I would only ending up crushing us both. I had a few seconds to decide on how we should die, and went for drowning over crushing. I was probably wrong but I figured it would hurt less. The noise of the water was deafening, but my increasingly foggy mind started playing tricks on me, replaying the sound I’d heard just before the rig had hit, Hannibal calling my name, over and over, the fear and desperation clear in his tone. I really wished my head would behave, did I really want the last thing I heard on this earth to be the man I loved sounding so scared and frantic? No, definitely not.
I felt a shudder of regret run through me that I would never get to know him better, that he would never get the chance to see all that I could become. That we would never get the chance to be something more together. Then I closed my eyes and resigned myself to the truth as I felt the water licking around my chin and lifted my helpless companion higher; at least this way I never had to face the fact that Hannibal Smith would never want me the way I wanted him, not enough to do anything about it at any rate. The coldness of that thought washed through me along with the water and I just closed my eyes, feeling those icy tongues licking up my face and resigning myself to drowning on the street in Atlanta. Ironic.
I let the water in, no desire to face an end struggling in the stone tomb we were locked in, envying my companion and her continued oblivion and felt it run into my mouth, my nose, down my throat, and then my traitorous body rebelled. I tried to force myself to keep still, had no desire to be crushed after all, but my limbs had other ideas and they thrashed about, forcing my head up against the fallen wall, seeking out the possibility of an air hole somewhere near the top, but nothing was forthcoming. I could feel blackness pushing in from all around me, and my lungs were burning but refusing to take a breath. I knew that one good lungful would see me on my way, all that cold, cold water would ease the burning and I would be free of my prison within seconds, but I suppose my self preservation, the thing that has kept me fighting all these years, just wasn’t ready to give up quite yet. It didn’t matter much – in the end it wouldn’t have any choice.
And then I wondered if it had already happened, it felt like a huge, powerful hand had taken hold of me and my unconscious charge, scooped us up from underneath and threw us out of the masonry tomb. I felt myself flying, absently wondering if we were going up or down, if holding on to this woman who was undoubtedly a better person than I was would increase my chances at getting in above, but then the pain in my legs, my back, my head made me doubt we were heading for the pearly gates and we suddenly stopped, icy cold gripping me from all sides, painful, wracking coughs almost splitting me in half and I began to think I wasn’t actually dead after all.
The noise after the silence of the tomb was deafening; sirens, rushing water, screaming, footsteps, and that voice, the voice I’d heard all the time, calling my name, frantic, desperate, getting louder.
“Sir!” I heard another voice this time and tried to force my eyes open, closing them almost instantly against the glare of a million flashing lights. “Sir! You can’t go over there! It’s still too dangerous! Wait for the fire crew, God damn you!!”
But whoever was being told to wait was having none of it, I could hear their footsteps crunching through the debris as they came closer and heard the voice again, suddenly not so terrified and gloriously close, as I struggled to sit up. “Face! Face! Oh, God, kid, you’re alive, shit, I never thought, never thought...”
And just as I managed to force an eye to stay open he was there, his wonderfully familiar bulk outlined against the blue and red flashing lights behind him, hands, large and warm, skimming over me, showing me I was far from dead.
“Boss-” I started before the coughing over took me again and those warm hands were holding me, lifting me from the rubble cutting into my back and leaning me against his solid heat at the same time that other hands appeared, taking my charge, trying to pull her away and I held on, not willing for her to make that journey to the pearly gates alone.
“It’s okay,” Hannibal’s voice, thick with some indefinable emotion was right at my ear, “let her go kid, the ambulance staff are going to take her now. Let her go, you did good, you saved her, now let them take over.”
And suddenly I was so tired that I couldn’t hold on anymore anyway. Her weight slipped from my arms and I listened as footsteps and voices retreated once more, leaving just me and the boss, his arms tight and warm around me, holding me to this earth. With him. I started to fade out all over, every limb getting heavier, every thought getting harder when I felt his nose on my cold cheek, his words warm in my ear, “God, I thought I’d lost you, precious boy. I thought you were gone.” There was a noise, something suspiciously like a sob and I tried to open my eyes or get my mouth working, tried to tell him not to worry about me, that I wasn’t worth his worry, when that heat from my ear moved and for one glorious, unbelievable second I thought I felt it pressed against my lips, hot and slow and claiming but then the darkness that had been hovering so tight around me suddenly closed in and I slid back into the thick black.
_________________
The rest of the night passed by in a bit of a surreal blur. I remember waking up in a stark white room with lots of unfamiliar faces pressed around me and I just panicked. Trying to shove them away, tugging at the needles they were trying to push into me, total and utter panic until that calm voice was there at my ear, those large hands, smoothing and comforting, his face, the one I hadn’t been able to make out earlier in the dark, leaning over me, so welcome and familiar, streaked with dirt and dust, smiling at me, telling me it was okay, I could trust these people, I was safe, he wasn’t going to leave me, was never going to leave me... And I closed my eyes and slipped away again, wishing that when I woke up once it was all still going to be true.
When I did wake up again, he was still there, sitting in a chair at my bedside, his face a mask of quiet concern. I looked at him, and then around the room with its white walls and empty corners and I knew I didn't want to stay here. I could feel him looking at me so I flicked my eyes back, trying so hard to keep the tears and the hysteria at bay. “That woman...?” I murmured, talking more painful than I could ever imagine.
Hannibal smiled as he leaned over me, “She’s doing okay, kid. Still sleeping, but the docs think she’ll be fine.”
I nodded. Good. That was important. Then I looked back into his eyes, “I don’t want to be here...” I whispered feeling the traitorous prickling at the back of my eyes and trying to will it away.
I saw the way his eyes changed and had to screw my own closed against that look of, what was it? Disappointment? that crossed his face, but felt him lean in anyway.
“Okay,” his voice was rough. “The docs are happy with you, say you can go as soon as you feel up to it-”
“I’m up to it now,” I interrupted, eyes still shut tight against the tears as I felt his hand skim briefly across my shoulder.
“I’ll go and sort it out then,” he whispered and as I heard his chair scrape back, I finally let the tears out.
_______________
He helped me get dressed at the hospital into clothes of mine he’d had sent over from the hotel, then when we got back he steered me into the shower and gently washed all the dirt and dust off me as I stood and leaned against the cold tiles. I had somehow, miraculously, escaped major injury but my entire body was covered in scrapes and bruises, even standing was difficult and so I swallowed my embarrassment and let him tend to me like a child. Within half an hour we were done, I was clean and warm and dried off and he was helping me into the bed in our room just as the grey dawn light started to creep in.
It was such a relief to relax at last, and I let my tired eyes slide closed, looking forward to the rest and to waking up feeling like I was actually alive rather than one of the walking dead. His hand, warm and welcome, slid into my hair and started stroking, slowly, calmly, soothing me towards sleep as he sat beside me on the mattress. I let out a long breath and let myself slip away, welcoming the peace of oblivion.
It didn’t last. After what only seemed like minutes I was back in the cloying depths of that hole, dusty hands and watery fingers running over my face, trying to choke me or suffocate me or slide into my lungs and drown me. I tried to fight them off but there was a heavy weight in my arms and I looked down, into the face of the young woman, her eyes open and staring and lifeless and as I stared back she suddenly shifted, morphed completely into Hannibal, his skin pale and waxy, his blues eyes dead. I woke up screaming.
The boss was there, holding me tight, stroking my face, telling me it was all okay, he was here, I was safe, he was with me, but the way his words would never mean what I wanted them to mean just reduced me to tears, every single time, every one of the countless damn times I woke up that night/day, humiliating myself with my screams and my hysterics.
So it was, when I finally awoke naturally, that terror abating long enough to let me have a few scant hours rest at last, that the poor boss looked almost as bad as I felt. And that was pretty bad.
As soon as he saw my eyes open and blinking at him, he was on his knees at the side of the bed, that hand in my hair once more, smoothing it back, CNN playing silently in the corner, the crumpled rig and the demolished bar looking hellish in the cold light of day. “Hey,” he whispered, the concern evident in his eyes, “you okay?”
I nodded and pushed myself into a sitting position, wincing as every bump and bruise and ache woke up and said hello, feeling my cheeks flush as I thought of the night and day of screaming and tears and nightmares.
His hand was in my hair again, I could almost feel his concern and it just ate me up. “Don’t...” I snapped at him, a little harsher than I had intended. He froze instantly, and moved his hand, withdrawing it slowly as if he feared I would bite. An awkward silence fell and I buried my face in my palms, so glad he’d been here all this time, but wishing he hadn’t all at the same time; wishing he hadn’t seen me at my worst. “I’m sorry,” I told him, voice rough, “I don’t know what came over me, it’s like I just lost my control, sorry...”
I heard him huff a little ironically and then that hand was back for a fraction of a second before he remembered and whipped it away. “Kid, you were almost crushed by a truck, buried alive and then drowned. I think you are entitled to a few nightmares...”
I shook my head, face still buried in my palms and then that hand was back, just like he couldn’t keep it away. “God, Face...” his voice was quiet and shaking and so unlike the boss that I had to look up, “I know I’ve had a few myself... Thought I’d lost you...” he tailed off into nothing and sat staring at the duvet cover, his hand still in my hair, his eyes suspiciously bright.
His words sparked a memory in me; arms tight and warm around me, holding me to the earth, limbs getting heavier, thoughts getting harder, words warm in my ear, “God, I thought I’d lost you, precious boy. I thought you were gone.” A noise like a sob and heat against my lips, hot and slow and claiming...
I stared at him in shock, “You kissed me...” the words out of my mouth in a hoarse whisper before I could stop them.
His head shot up, his eyes wide and just damn scared staring right at me. Time seemed to stand perfectly still as we looked at each other, my desperate brain trying to process the look on his face, why he did this, what it meant.
“I’m sorry...” he whispered and as I stared in absolute shock a single tear rolled out of his eye and down his cheek, unchecked by his shaking fingers. “I was just relieved that’s all, I’d thought... well, it doesn’t matter what I thought, but... I’m sorry, so sorry, it was an imposition, I realise that now, I just...” he hung his head again, “It won’t happen again...”
“It won’t?” my brain was past the stage of rational, sensible conversation by that point, and that shocked, devastated little outburst was the only thing I was capable of.
“No,” he looked unsure now, torn, as if he didn’t know which way to jump. “I...” he scrubbed a hand through his hair then looked back at me, “I saw you go for that woman when you could have got yourself clear,” he whispered, “saw that truck take you out,” I stared at him as he shook his head, “Jesus, Face, the wall came down on you and then the explosion and the water... The Fire Chief said you were both goners, even before the whole damn thing collapsed...” The hand was back in my hair and it slid down to rest at the base of my neck once more, like so many other times since I’d known him. “The thought that you were dead, all that life just washed out of you,” another tear slipped out. “I couldn’t keep away, they told me not to, but I was past caring, if you were dead, then what did any of it matter anymore?” I continued to stare at him, his words making little sense in my head, “But then I found you,” his voice was so quiet I had to strain to hear it and a little smile fluttered over his lips, “and I held you, and you were still with me, and suddenly nothing else mattered...”
His voice slipped away into nothing and I was hyper aware of the fact that we were so close, his hand on the back of my neck edging me closer millimetre by millimetre. My eyes held his, the fear in them spiking a corresponding fear in my heart, then those shining blue eyes jumped to my lips and it was like someone somewhere finally flicked a switch and we surged forward into each other, lips meeting in a desperate, frantic, union, all heat and fear and pent up desire surging out of us both, his hand on my neck gripping tight now, the other one sliding up my jaw, holding me hard at just the right angle to plunder my mouth, my hands both threading into his short hair, feeling it slide between my fingers as I held him still, never wanting him to go, never wanting him to leave me.
The kiss was like no kiss I had ever experienced. Like anything to do with Hannibal Smith it was right at the very edge of extreme. Eventually though I had to jerk away, my abused lungs struggling to breathe, my body still so highly strung I couldn’t persuade it to do without oxygen any longer. He tried to pull back and I knew I’d worried him so I held on, keeping my hands right where they were and leaning in to whisper in his ear, “I need you, boss, please don’t go,” and he was instantly back, his mouth on mine, short desperate nips this time as I slid my hand down and grabbed to edge of his t-shirt, yanking it up, pulling us apart for the second it took to get it over his head and then letting us crash together again, like magnets, pulled apart and allowed to surge back. I was clawing at him, I couldn’t get him close enough. Ignoring the aches in my muscles I kicked and pushed at the duvet until it fell away and let me pull him down on top on me, feeling the contrast between the hard lines of muscle and soft cotton of his shorts as he spread his weight down me body, his mouth slipping to kiss along my jaw, my neck and I lifted for him, arching my whole body into his, offering everything I had to him.
“Oh, god, sweet boy,” he whispered between desperate kisses and I couldn’t help the way my body reacted to that, surging up to meet him, feeling my heavy, hot erection push right into his through the last layers of clothes and then we were fighting to get free, a frantic scramble of hands and fingers pulling at our shorts, both of us wanting nothing but skin, nothing but heat, and then it was there.
I moaned, long and loud at that first feeling of smooth hot flesh against the skin of my hip and he thrust hard into me in response, nipping at my neck, whispering in my ear, “God help me, Face, I just can’t get enough of you.” My hands flew to his ass at those words, pulling him down harder, jamming him against me as I pushed up into him, all that incredible heat and friction and feeling making my head spin.
“I want you,” he whispered, thrusting faster and faster into my hip, “I want to come inside you, I want to make love to you. Will you let me, darling boy? Will you open up to me?”
I didn't need asking twice, my legs flew open of their own accord and he moaned, a ragged, desperate sound of pure need as he thrust into that warm space, my lungs giving him his own answering sound as I felt the insistent heat of his cock as it pushed up into the flesh of my ass. I was just wondering how we were going to do this, when we were going to do this as I could already feel my climax creeping up on me when he pulled me up, one arm around my waist, lifting me like I weighed no more than a child and swinging me around until I was sat on his lap, back to chest, both our legs hanging over the side of the bed, his red hot erection trapped underneath me, his right hand on my own length, slowly stroking me as his left hand routed around in the bag on the chair next to him, finally coming up with a pot of Vaseline.
“I wanted to watch you,” he whispered as he dropped my erection to open the pot, and I looked up, straight into the full length mirror he’d positioned us right in front of and almost came on the spot. He noticed my jerk and the way my cock leaped at the sight and laughed against my neck, “That’s what I thought too,” he whispered, and then I felt his slick fingers easing me forward, sliding towards their goal and then finally claiming their prize, tipping me forward onto my feet as two fingers slid straight inside me, pushing past the tight rose bud muscle with an ease born of pure desire.
I shuddered and moaned, tipping back, forcing those fingers right up inside me as I pushed back on him and he groaned in reply, “Oh, Face, I can’t wait any longer, god, I need you now, I’m sorry, I need you, lift up...”
I wasn’t sorry at all and lifted onto my toes, waiting until I felt his hands spreading me open, that blunt pressure right at my entrance and then I fell back, impaling myself straight onto him, crying out, low and long as I felt that red hot heat searing right into me.
“Jesus Christ!” he hissed into my ear as his hands pulled me down even tighter, his hips already bucking up, his hand back on my cock, squeezing and tugging in a way that was starting to wring my climax straight out of me. “Open your eyes!” he whispered, his voice barely controlled and wavering with every desperate thrust of his hips and I forced them open, totally unaware that they had ever closed.
The sight that met me will stay with me forever, his eyes, dark with lust were fixed on mine in the mirror, one strong arm was wrapped across my stomach, making sure I stayed joined with him, the other was pumping my cock, his long fingers swathed right around the red flesh, his hips were twitching in time with his hand, my own legs spread obscenely wide over his. But it was the expression on his face that took me apart, the total and utter openness, nothing short of complete adoration as he pumped into me, and I just lost it. I wanted to watch, I really did, but my body was no longer under my control, I arched my back, shoving myself down as hard as I could onto him, my head thudding back onto his shoulder , hands squeezing his hips hard as he drove into me, big hand working my cock as I came, pumping my semen out over his fingers, dimly registering the noise it made is it splattered the mirror, but then everything else was wiped out of my head by the roar in my ear and the pulsing cock in my ass as it emptied red hot heat inside me, flowing out and joining us at last, making us one, giving us both what we needed so badly.
My legs gave way right after that, and I suddenly remembered that I’d been run over by a truck not twenty hours ago as painful cramps seized my limbs. Hannibal seemed to understand at once. He slid himself out of me, both of us registering the sudden cold emptiness we felt at the movement, and then lifted me up, lying me down on the bed and manoeuvring himself to lie next to me before I even had the chance to complain at his absence.
His propped himself up on one elbow and slid his arm underneath my head, his free hand running back to my hair, brushing the sweaty strands away from my face and bending to drop a chaste kiss to my forehead. I just looked up at him, wondering how the hell all that had just happened, and what on earth we were going to do about it.
“What have we done?” I heard myself say, another one of those moments when my mouth seems to be completely disconnected to my brain. His hand stopped its careful stroking and his brow furrowed as I felt the cold thrill of fear run through me.
“You regretting it already?” he asked gently, but I could hear the sadness in his voice.
“God, no boss,” I whispered, that stupid catch in my words and I grabbed at his hand with both of mine, holding it to my face, kissing the heel of his palm, keeping him close. “It’s just now...” I shook my head, “I can never go back to not having you – not after that...”
His eyes swam with liquid again as he leaned over me, “Oh, no, and you will never have to. Don't you see it yet, Face? I love you. With everything that I am, since the very first second I lay eyes on you at Benning, all I’ve ever wanted is this. Is you.”
I closed my eyes at that, pushing back my own tears before opening them again and staring up at him, marvelling at the honesty and the love in his face. I had no words I could say back, nothing as precious as the gift he had just given me, and I knew if I even tried I would just end up in tears again, so instead I slid my own hand up and around the back of his neck, squeezing gently as he had done so many times for me, before gently pulling him in and kissing him, showing him with everything I had just what he meant to me.
And I know he understood.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2011-09-18 06:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-19 07:42 pm (UTC)And a new story??? Well, it's funny you should say that...
Click on the left arrow above or click this link:
http://indigo-angels.livejournal.com/38069.html
no subject
Date: 2011-09-18 11:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-19 07:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-27 08:53 am (UTC)oh and the sex at the end? *shifts in seat* that was HOT.
you bring it all, and it is beautiful.
guh.
no subject
Date: 2011-11-27 04:23 pm (UTC)I adore this story - I love Face in it, so down-trodden already but you can really see the difference Hannibal will make in his life.
Thanks again for your lovely comments!