indigo_angels

It was dark before Face finally relented and agreed to put the ball away for another day. Murdock was so relieved; he doubted he ever wanted to see another basket ball in his life again. By the time they had both showered, BA had made a chicken curry and the four of them sat down to eat, Face looking constantly on edge and keeping up a relentless stream of conversation, anything, it seemed, other than let a lull in the evening be filled with talk of his mother.

But he needn't have worried, no one seemed like opening up that particular can of worms tonight and it wasn't long before Murdock was yawning, the run and the hours of basketball on the driveway catching up on him and he made the others laugh, kissing BA on the lips as he was distracted by the football results on TV before heading up to bed. BA wasn't far behind him, and the second they were alone, Hannibal moved across the room, settling himself in next to Face, a hand on his thigh.

“You worn these shorts all night just to make me horny?” he whispered, his lips right at the shell of Face's ear and Face laughed, relieved beyond anything that he still seemed to be safe.

“No, boss, I wore them 'cause it's fucking hot. If they make you hot then that's just an added bonus.”

This time it was Hannibal's turn to laugh and he slid his hand up inside the leg, “Maybe you would feel cooler if you took them off...”

Closing his eyes and letting his head thump against the back of the sofa, Face let out a long, shaky breath. “I doubt I would feel cool for long,” he whispered. “You have this uncanny knack of making me hot.”

“Jesus, kid,” Hannibal breathed as he moved in for a kiss, hands already tugging at Face's shorts, “you are hot, that's the whole point.”

Face tried to laugh, but Hannibal's mouth had found his and then a hand had wrapped around his rapidly swelling cock and suddenly nothing was remotely funny.

Two minutes of rapid scrambling about on the sofa found them in a position they were both happy with; laid full length on the cushion, bare chests flush with bare thighs, a hot, hard cock in each other’s mouths, both suckling and teasing, fingers stroking tight balls and probing at puckered flesh, entering whole heartedly into their familiar dance, not trying to get each other off the quickest this time, this time trying to see who could draw it out the longest for the other.

Eventually, Face came first as he usually did in this game, twitching himself further into Hannibal's mouth with every pulse of semen and then finishing the boss off as well, pushing just the tip of a saliva covered finger into that hot rose and tipping Hannibal over the edge.

More shuffling and wriggling and they were comfortable once more, heads on the arm rest of the sofa, Hannibal's back pressed into the cushions, Face on the edge, being held securely in place by the boss' firm arm. Hannibal leaned in and kissed him, slow and deep, just the way he knew Face liked it post coitally, helping him back down from that sharp edge of desire.

“You okay?” he asked quietly, feeling the hard thump of Face's heart against his chest still.

“Of course,” Face answered languidly, “how can I not be after that?”

Hannibal chuckled, “Glad to be of service, kid.”

Face just smiled and let his eyes drift closed, totally relaxed and blissed out, looking forward to a brief nap here with the boss on the sofa, before maybe having round two upstairs in bed. Hannibal, however, had a different plan. “So,” he whispered, running a hand through Face's thick hair, “you had chance to think any more about seeing your mom?”

Face stiffened but kept his eyes closed as a frown appeared across his brow.

“What do you think?” Hannibal continued.

A long sigh was his only answer and then Face sat up, swinging his feet onto the floor and sitting with his back against Hannibal's chest. “That's what this was all about then was it? Softening me up with a blow job just so I'd agree to meet up with the old crone?”

Hannibal sat up as well, his hand going to Face's shoulder, only for Face to shrug it off. “Face, kid, it wasn't like that at all, I just thought now was a good time for a chat, while we were on our own, nice and relaxed.”

“Bullshit,” Face muttered grabbing his shorts from the floor and dragging them on. “You think I'm that shallow that I will change my mind on a life altering decision, just because you blew me off first?”

Hannibal frowned, “Face...”

“Save it, boss,” he muttered getting to his feet, “I'm really not interested,” and he was out of the door and stalking up the stairs before Hannibal even had the chance to bemoan the dreadful conclusion of his plan.

_____________________________

If Hannibal had been surprised to find the bedroom empty when he went upstairs five minutes after Face, then it was nothing to how he felt when he woke up the next morning and discovered that Face had not come to bed all night.

“BA, you seen Face?” he asked in the kitchen after calling his mobile and hearing it drop straight into the voice mail.

BA glared up from his cereal. “He was up late playin' Halo in Murdock's room, giggling like a coupla stupid kids they were, couldn't get to sleep for them.”

Hannibal frowned, “So, where are they now?”

“Guessin' they're still there.”

Hannibal didn't bother knocking on Murdock's bedroom door, living in the close proximity that they always did, courtesies like that tended to get over looked, but afterwards, he kind of wished he had.

He opened the door wide and looked towards the bed, knowing that's where they always reclined when playing on Murdock's Xbox, but the sight that met him stopped him in his tracks. Face was asleep flat on his back, Xbox controller at his side, still only wearing the running shorts he'd yanked back on downstairs in his temper, Murdock was similarly clad, only a thin pair of boxer shorts on, and he was draped across Face, his head resting on bare stomach, an arm flung over the top of his friend's thighs, fingers brushing the front of his shorts.

Irrational anger boiled up in Hannibal and burst forth like a geyser. “Face!” The name was barked, and just as if he were back in the early days of the army, Face sprung up almost at once, dislodging Murdock off his stomach, eyes wide even before he was awake.

“Boss?” his voice was still slurred with sleep.

“What the fuck are you doing in here?” Hannibal knew his reaction was over the top, but there was an uncomfortable burning inside him which felt a lot like jealousy.

“What?” Face squinted rubbing his eyes. “Playing Halo. Why?”

Hannibal's eyes narrowed, “It doesn't look like that to me, lieutenant,” he whispered lethally.

Face frowned in confusion, looking over at the TV with its frozen menu screen still shining into the room and it was Murdock that answered. “It don't, boss?” he offered in his drawling tone. “What do you think we were doin' then?”

Their eyes locked while Face glanced between them, bemused.

“Face!” Hannibal barked again, deciding to ignore the challenge in Murdock's eyes for now. “Get up and get dressed, I need you to run some errands.”

And then he was gone, missing Face's mutinous, “Yes, sir, colonel, sir. Right a-fucking-way, sir,” muttered under his breath as he swung his legs off the bed, pausing in confusion to stare at the perfect imprint of Murdock's ear on his stomach.

_________________________

Hannibal had eventually realised that Face was not going to enter into a sensible discussion about Adele Armando any time soon. He was also now officially fed up of the situation as it was, with Face storming off all the time, spending all his time with Murdock, sleeping in the same bed as the pilot even... The situation was far from good. So, if Face wanted to act like a child and run off and hide every time he was expected to face up to his life like a man, than what else could he expect other that Hannibal to treat him like a child? This drama had run on for long enough, and it was Hannibal's responsibility as CO to bring it to an end sooner rather than later. As soon as he got Face out of the house on a list of trumped up errands, Hannibal set to work making his plans.

__________________________

It was late afternoon, Hannibal was expecting Face back at any moment really, and was pleased with the way his preparations had gone. He was just deciding whether to take a shower or wait for Face to come in when Murdock, who had been particularly conspicuous by his absence all day suddenly sidled into the kitchen and slid onto a stool opposite Hannibal.

“You alright, boss?” he asked, carefully solicitous, “You lookin' awfully pleased about somethin'.”

“I'm fine, thank you Captain,” Hannibal was disappointed by the coolness he could hear in his voice, knowing damn well it was irrational.

Murdock nodded and took off his cap, turning it slowly in his hands. “Is there somethin' you wanted to discuss with me?” he asked, carefully not meeting Hannibal's eyes. “Somethin' about Face maybe?”

Hannibal bristled. “No.”

Finally, Murdock looked up and met his CO's frown. “You sure?’Cause you sure looked like you had things on your mind when you burst into my room this mornin'.”

Taking a deep breath Hannibal answered, “I'm sure.”

Going back to fiddling with his cap again, Murdock let silence fill the room for a few minutes before he spoke again and this time there was just a hint of nervousness in his voice. “You know, boss, he'd never do that to you. Never. You mean far too much to him.”

Hannibal let his blue eyes drill straight across the table. “I have no idea what you are on about, Murdock.”

“Good,” Murdock's voice was deliberately light, “'Cause this mornin' you looked at him like he'd committed some kind of heinous sin or something. Like you thought maybe he was doin' somethin' other than playin' on the Xbox with me.” Hannibal didn't answer, just continued to stare. “An' all this business with his mother, Hannibal, don't you see how much you're upsettin' him?”

Hannibal rose to his feet. “The day I want some advice from you on how to handle Face, I will ask. Alright?”

Shrugging nonchalantly, Murdock put his cap back on his head. “Yeah? Well, I will give you some for free just to be getting' on with. Drop this thing about his mom and think about what's best for him for once, or you will push him out of your bed for good.”

“And straight into yours?” Hannibal bit back, his anger right at the surface.

But Murdock just shook his head sadly. “You're not listening to me at all, boss.”

“Oh, I hear you loud and clear Captain, but don't think for a minute that I haven't shared my life with Face for over twenty years without knowing what's best for him.”

Murdock narrowed his eyes. “He doesn't need you to decide what's best for him; he needs to work it out for himself.”

Hannibal leaned over the table on his knuckles and Murdock knew he had pushed just about as far as he could. “What he needs, what we both need, is some time on our own to work this out without other people constantly interfering.”

Murdock shrugged again, “Sounds peachy. He'd like that.”

“And I don't need you to tell me what he would like!” Hannibal was on the verge of exploding. “Tonight, I have booked a table for us at La Maison, and I intend taking him out and having a nice, quiet, productive evening, away from this house and all the negative influences in it!”

Murdock smiled as he rose from his seat, refusing to get rattled. “Sounds great then, boss. Sounds like you got it all worked out. Have a good night.” And then he turned and left before the conversation could get any more unpleasant than it already was.

____________________________

Face was hot and thoroughly fed up by the time he got back from his list of jobs. The traffic on the freeway had been totally snarled up and the air con had packed up on him midway through the afternoon. All he'd wanted when he came home was a shower and a beer, but Hannibal's news that they were going out that night, without Murdock and BA, soon lifted his grey mood.

“Really?” Hannibal felt his heart swell at the way his eyes lit up. “Tonight? Where to?”

Despite his own fraught temper, Hannibal couldn't help his own smile, “La Maison.”

“Really?!” Face repeated, eyes shining. “You sure? It's pricey you know, if you'd let me know in advance I coulda scammed us a table, you know, done the old 'location scout' trick again or maybe 'food critic', I haven't done that one in ages.”

Hannibal shook his head, “No, not tonight. Tonight I want to do this properly.” He smiled at Face, “I've booked a table, and we are going to go in there like regular people and pay for our food just like regular people do.”

Face nodded. “Wow. Well, okay then, boss, if that's what you want.”

“It is.” Hannibal took a step forward and took hold of Face's wrists. “This is my way of apologising, kid.”

For the second time in as many minutes, Face's eyes widened in surprise. “Apologising?”

“Yeah,” Hannibal's voice was soft. “I know you've had a tough time this last week, I know I've not helped and I'm sorry.”

Face smiled at him. “You don't have to apologise. I know you were only looking out for me.”

Hannibal's heart flipped, that was one of the things he loved so much about Face, but also one of things that made him so vulnerable, he was always so quick to forgive those he cared for, always willing to reason away their actions. Shades of guilt flitted across his mind.

“Oh,” Face suddenly froze as he turned towards the shower. “Tonight,” his expression was suddenly clouded, unsure, all trace of his previous pleasant surprise gone. “It's not just another chance for you to butter me up is it? Before you... well, you know.”

Hannibal tried to smile reassuringly at him, “No, kid, it's not. I promise that tonight I will not mention making arrangements to see your mother, not even once.”

Satisfied, Face smiled at him and went to take his shower and decide what to wear.

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