A Mother's Love - Part Nineteen
Oct. 18th, 2011 09:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
indigo_angelsAN: Warning, fairly graphic m/m sexual situation approaching. Consensual, but definately adult! Just so's you know! :D
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Hannibal looked down at the oiled expanse of back in front of him and let his fingers trail a line parallel to the waistband of Face’s trunks for about the twentieth time. It was at moments like this that he would normally let his fingers slip under that waistband and just slide Face’s shorts down – and then the massage would turn into something completely different instead... But now he wasn’t at all sure how to play this, what was expected from him and what would be unwelcome.
“Hey,” Face’s voice, low and husky, brought Hannibal’s eyes up from their fascination with his waistband and two sets of blue irises met in the half light of the room. “You don’t have to stop, boss. Never - not with me.”
Hannibal felt his throat tighten and smiled at Face, just loving how his boy could read his mind, sense his dilemma. Then he looked down again, and took hold of those shorts, sliding them down as Face tipped his hips to help. In a moment, they were gone and Hannibal felt his cock stir in response to the sight of Face’s slightly-whiter-than-the-rest-of-him ass just waiting for the feel of his hands, and of course he oblidged.
Face let out a long sigh of pleasure as those familiar hands smoothed circles that now flowed from waist to thigh without interruption and Hannibal knew that there would be a fairly substantial erection pressing into the duvet beneath him, one to rival his own perhaps.
As he rubbed and stroked and smoothed the taught flesh under his palms, Face shuffled slightly and Hannibal could feel his thighs trying to shift under his weight, trying to open and instantly he moved, lifting his weight clear as Face spread his legs and then slid into the newly opened gap between them. And this Hannibal knew, this was a dance they had shared for so many years now, and Face’s silent invitation was just what he needed to give him the confidence to take part.
He trailed an oil slick finger down the cleft of Face’s ass, loving the way he could see those toned thighs clenching and how shivers ran down the kid’s sides. “Okay?” he asked, surprised by the rough tone to his voice.
But Face only replied with a distracted, “Hmmm,” and Hannibal smiled, knowing that he was trying to grind his erection down into the mattress below.
“Here, kid,” he offered, one finger still trailing up and down the inviting warmth between Face’s buttocks, the other tugging a pillow over, shoving it underneath Face’s hips just as they rose up off the bed as Face picked up his intentions. Once he was settled, his swollen cock enfolded securely in the pillow, Hannibal looked at the sight before him and almost came on the spot. The way those hips were tilted up, all invitation and enticement, the spread of his thighs, the way he was thrusting ever so gently into the pillow beneath him, his closed eyes, long lashes curling over flushed cheeks, lips, ruby red, parted and moist as they tried to suck in enough oxygen to cope with the arousal he was feeling, and Hannibal felt a sob tear up his throat at the thought that he could have lost all this.
“Boss?” Face’s eyes fluttered open at the sound ripped from Hannibal’s heart and Hannibal found himself desperately blinking back tears, smiling at Face’s concerned expression and shifting his finger downwards, looking for that thing that would distract Face and let him slip back into rapture.
“It’s okay,” he whispered, finger finding that tight knot of muscle and pushing with a gentle insistence, “I’m okay, kid, I just...” he smiled and lost the battle with a tear that rolled over his cheek, “I fucking love you so, so much,” he admitted.
For a moment, it looked as though Face was going to respond, but then Hannibal found his way, that long, practised finger sliding right in and finding its goal instantly. “I – oh!” Face breathed, his hips snapping down into the pillow as Hannibal’s finger gently rubbed and circled over his swollen prostate. “God, boss, I love you too.”
Hannibal smiled and continued with his stroking, one hand spreading open those firm cheeks so that he could watch his finger sliding in and out, circling and fondling, while Face writhed underneath him, and then a sudden thought struck him, a realisation of what he could do to make this incredible for Face, a way to show him how very special he was.
He waited until Face dropped his head back onto his folded arms and closed his eyes and then started shuffling around, adjusting his position until he was close enough to bend over and swipe his tongue down the warm skin of cleft until it found the point where his finger slipped inside, and then he circled the digit slowly. Face let out a long moan, his hips bucking up to meet Hannibal’s warm, wet tongue, and he turned his head again, eyes wide, pupils blown as he looked at Hannibal, “Boss,” he gasped, craning his neck to watch Hannibal’s head as it dipped up and down with every sweep and curl of his tongue, “You don’t have to do this.”
Hannibal lifted up, keeping his finger in place, swirling and stroking as he smiled back. “Of course I don’t have to, Face,” he watched, his own arousal building, as Face’s expression reflected every sweep of his finger. “I want to; I know how much you love it.” And he did. Face loved being rimmed more than anything else they did, but it tended not to happen that often, and seeing the way that Face’s irises had almost disappeared in the black of his dilated pupils, he was starting to regret that fact right now. Face gasped quietly as Hannibal pressed against his swollen prostate and his eyes fluttered shut in bliss making Hannibal’s cock jump in his shorts. “Let me,” he whispered in the voice he saved for moments like this, “you have no idea how much I want to.”
Face certainly wasn’t about to argue anymore; he was happy that Hannibal wasn’t doing this under some false sense of obligation and so lay back down on his arms, his cock trapped firmly between his stomach and the pillow and opened his thighs a tiny bit further to give Hannibal even better access. “I love you,” was all he breathed as he felt that warm tongue swiping towards his entrance once more.
This time Hannibal made sure he was comfortable. He kept his finger pushed right in, but swirled his tongue around and around his digit, making the whole area slick with saliva. Face was gently rolling his hips in and out of the pillow, his breath steadily becoming heavier, his buttocks, which Hannibal was spreading with one large hand, flushed with hot, fresh blood. Briefly sliding another finger in alongside the first, Hannibal quickly scissored the stretching hole before pulling completely out and slipping his tongue straight in, pushing the taught muscle as far as it would go into Face welcoming heat.
“Oh!” Face thrust erratically into the pillow as he felt that warm, wet intrusion into his most private of places. “Jesus, boss,” he gasped, “you have no idea how good that feels...”
Hannibal would have smiled, but he was too busy licking around the velvety smooth sides of Face’s insides, twisting his tongue as much as he possibly could, flicking the tip into clenching muscles, teasing and stroking while enjoying every twitch and moan he was wringing from Face. And then he pulled out, slowly drawing his slick tongue from the grasping hole, only to swirl it around the puckered opening and then push straight back in. Yet again Face bucked, his breathy moans getting louder by the second and Hannibal knew it was time to bring this to a spectacular conclusion.
Three times more he slowly, slowly withdrew only to push straight back in again, and then the fourth time he slipped his finger in, competing for space in the tight channel with his tongue.
With practised ease, the soft pad of Hannibal’s finger found Face’s prostate once more and started up a rhythmic stimulation while his tongue thrust alongside. Face soon picked up on the rhythm and the rocking of his hips became more pronounced, his breathing more laboured and Hannibal could just picture how he would look, fists tight in the bedding, eyes shut tight, lips parted as he tipped closer and closer to his orgasm. And then Hannibal felt Face’s thighs, pressed tight to his own shoulders, start to tighten and he quickened his pace, knowing the edge was fast approaching. His own cock, ignored and drooling precum all over the inside of his shorts, was throbbing in time with his tongue thrusts and he couldn’t overlook it any more. He pulled his hand from Face’s ass, feeling the delicious press of flesh against his face and frantically shoved his own shorts down, taking hold of his pulsing cock just as Face’s thrusts started to get erratic and his moans of pleasure became desperate grunts.
He frantically worked his own cock with one hand whilst pushing Face’s prostate over the edge with the other. The hoarse cry from the top of the bed, followed by those thrusting hips stuttering to a halt and the spasming of the smooth walls around his tongue, told Hannibal that his boy had reached the edge and was now free falling into ecstatic oblivion, twitching with every spurt of his cock, while Hannibal’s fist quickly drew out his own orgasm.
As soon as that clenching around his tongue had stilled and Face had slumped, a boneless heap, into the duvet, Hannibal gently pulled out his finger and his tongue, feeling the previously unnoticed ache of his jaw, and wiping his hand clean of his own semen on the sheets. He lapped gently at the stretched hole, removing some of the saliva that was dripping a shining train down towards Face’s balls and pressed a loving kiss right on the puckered muscle. Then he crawled up the bed, kicking his shorts off as he went and suddenly feeling every minute of missed sleep. He hauled Face’s limp body out of the two sticky patches they’d made and over to the clean side of the bed and with the very last of his energy, he pulled off his t-shirt and then tugged Face up against him before yanking the duvet up to cover them both. He stretched out a hand, only just managing to poke a finger tip at the light switch and as the room fell into darkness, he felt Face shift and settle against his chest.
“I love you, John,” came the mumbled voice, right against Hannibal’s skin, and Hannibal slid his arms around the warm body nestled against him and dropped a fiercely possessive kiss down into his hair.
“I love you too, Temp,” he whispered, “with everything I am.”
Face pressed a sloppy kiss to Hannibal’s chest in reply and within minutes they were both asleep.
__________________________
When Hannibal awoke, there was a thin line of sunshine trying to edge around the sides of the curtains and an empty space in the bed next to him. “Face?” his voice was sleep roughened and he looked towards the silent en-suite, heart thumping in mounting panic. “Face?!”
Silence was the only reply he had to his call, and as he flicked the light on and swung his legs out of the bed he suddenly noticed the lack of clothing strewn around the room, the lack of toiletries on the bathroom shelf, the lack of shoes on the floor by the door and his heart fell hard into his stomach. “Face?” he asked again, this time not expecting an answer and his head fell into his hands. “He’s gone,” he whispered to the empty room, knowing damn well that if Face wanted to disappear from them all he would. In the blink of an eye he could make himself vanish, Templeton Peck would simply cease to exist and Face would become anyone he wanted to be.
Hannibal’s fingers squeezed through his hair and then he reached down to pick up his dried, sticky shorts up off the floor wondering on how likely it would be that Face would answer his phone. He knew that Face hadn’t run from him, not really, had run from Adele and the pressures that he couldn’t cope with but Hannibal wasn’t stupid enough to think that he had helped Face at all through this, no, if anything he had made the whole ordeal a damn sight harder for Face than it could have been. It was just tragic that last night’s attempt to prove to Face that things were changing hadn’t convinced him at all.
He threw the soiled shorts disgustedly away from him, realising he couldn’t wear them and let his head fall into his hands again as the room started to blur around him. Hannibal was a pragmatic, practical person by nature who rarely let events get on top of him, but just then all he needed was to sit and wallow in misery for a while, rehashing the events of the last couple of weeks and drawing out every damn thing he had done wrong.
He was vaguely aware of the sound of footsteps in the corridor outside but froze mid-breath when he heard them stop outside the door, the sound of a key card being inserted sent his heart back into overdrive and then the door swung open revealing Face balancing two coffee cups on top of each other, a large brown paper bag under one arm, and another in his teeth as he struggled to tug the key card from the lock.
Hannibal just stared, blinking away the moisture from his eyes as he watched Face kick the door shut behind him before taking the bag from his teeth and turning to smile at Hannibal. The smile died on his lips however as he took in the expression on his commander’s face as he sat naked on the side of the bed and he instantly dumped all his bags and cups on the dresser falling to his knees in front of Hannibal and pulling him in to a fierce embrace. “Oh, boss,” he whispered, knowing instantly what was wrong and feeling Hannibal’s arms tighten around him, “I’d never walk out on you, never. I’m sorry I didn’t leave a note, I didn’t think I’d be that long – I only went to get breakfast!”
Hannibal felt his face flush in embarrassment at his over reaction to the situation and pulled Face even closer towards him, smelling the familiar combination of shampoo and body spray and letting the relief of having him back wash through him. “I know,” he muttered into Face’s neck, “I’m sorry, kid. I just thought,” he swallowed hard, “these past weeks, I just thought I’d pushed you away.”
Now it was Face’s arms that tightened and Hannibal had to squeeze his eyes tightly shut against the moisture he felt welling up there. “Never,” Face replied thickly. “You’re everything to me John, everything.” Hannibal could hear the emotion in Face’s voice now and felt a surge of guilt at upsetting him yet again. “How would I ever get through this business with Adele without you here to support me?”
Time seem to stand still as they held each other in the silent hotel room, but in that silence, Hannibal decided that that’s exactly what he would do from now on, all choices were Face’s, all decisions were his alone. Hannibal would be there with him, every step of the way but supporting, not commanding, and maybe then he would be the partner that Face deserved.
Next
_____________
Hannibal looked down at the oiled expanse of back in front of him and let his fingers trail a line parallel to the waistband of Face’s trunks for about the twentieth time. It was at moments like this that he would normally let his fingers slip under that waistband and just slide Face’s shorts down – and then the massage would turn into something completely different instead... But now he wasn’t at all sure how to play this, what was expected from him and what would be unwelcome.
“Hey,” Face’s voice, low and husky, brought Hannibal’s eyes up from their fascination with his waistband and two sets of blue irises met in the half light of the room. “You don’t have to stop, boss. Never - not with me.”
Hannibal felt his throat tighten and smiled at Face, just loving how his boy could read his mind, sense his dilemma. Then he looked down again, and took hold of those shorts, sliding them down as Face tipped his hips to help. In a moment, they were gone and Hannibal felt his cock stir in response to the sight of Face’s slightly-whiter-than-the-rest-of-him ass just waiting for the feel of his hands, and of course he oblidged.
Face let out a long sigh of pleasure as those familiar hands smoothed circles that now flowed from waist to thigh without interruption and Hannibal knew that there would be a fairly substantial erection pressing into the duvet beneath him, one to rival his own perhaps.
As he rubbed and stroked and smoothed the taught flesh under his palms, Face shuffled slightly and Hannibal could feel his thighs trying to shift under his weight, trying to open and instantly he moved, lifting his weight clear as Face spread his legs and then slid into the newly opened gap between them. And this Hannibal knew, this was a dance they had shared for so many years now, and Face’s silent invitation was just what he needed to give him the confidence to take part.
He trailed an oil slick finger down the cleft of Face’s ass, loving the way he could see those toned thighs clenching and how shivers ran down the kid’s sides. “Okay?” he asked, surprised by the rough tone to his voice.
But Face only replied with a distracted, “Hmmm,” and Hannibal smiled, knowing that he was trying to grind his erection down into the mattress below.
“Here, kid,” he offered, one finger still trailing up and down the inviting warmth between Face’s buttocks, the other tugging a pillow over, shoving it underneath Face’s hips just as they rose up off the bed as Face picked up his intentions. Once he was settled, his swollen cock enfolded securely in the pillow, Hannibal looked at the sight before him and almost came on the spot. The way those hips were tilted up, all invitation and enticement, the spread of his thighs, the way he was thrusting ever so gently into the pillow beneath him, his closed eyes, long lashes curling over flushed cheeks, lips, ruby red, parted and moist as they tried to suck in enough oxygen to cope with the arousal he was feeling, and Hannibal felt a sob tear up his throat at the thought that he could have lost all this.
“Boss?” Face’s eyes fluttered open at the sound ripped from Hannibal’s heart and Hannibal found himself desperately blinking back tears, smiling at Face’s concerned expression and shifting his finger downwards, looking for that thing that would distract Face and let him slip back into rapture.
“It’s okay,” he whispered, finger finding that tight knot of muscle and pushing with a gentle insistence, “I’m okay, kid, I just...” he smiled and lost the battle with a tear that rolled over his cheek, “I fucking love you so, so much,” he admitted.
For a moment, it looked as though Face was going to respond, but then Hannibal found his way, that long, practised finger sliding right in and finding its goal instantly. “I – oh!” Face breathed, his hips snapping down into the pillow as Hannibal’s finger gently rubbed and circled over his swollen prostate. “God, boss, I love you too.”
Hannibal smiled and continued with his stroking, one hand spreading open those firm cheeks so that he could watch his finger sliding in and out, circling and fondling, while Face writhed underneath him, and then a sudden thought struck him, a realisation of what he could do to make this incredible for Face, a way to show him how very special he was.
He waited until Face dropped his head back onto his folded arms and closed his eyes and then started shuffling around, adjusting his position until he was close enough to bend over and swipe his tongue down the warm skin of cleft until it found the point where his finger slipped inside, and then he circled the digit slowly. Face let out a long moan, his hips bucking up to meet Hannibal’s warm, wet tongue, and he turned his head again, eyes wide, pupils blown as he looked at Hannibal, “Boss,” he gasped, craning his neck to watch Hannibal’s head as it dipped up and down with every sweep and curl of his tongue, “You don’t have to do this.”
Hannibal lifted up, keeping his finger in place, swirling and stroking as he smiled back. “Of course I don’t have to, Face,” he watched, his own arousal building, as Face’s expression reflected every sweep of his finger. “I want to; I know how much you love it.” And he did. Face loved being rimmed more than anything else they did, but it tended not to happen that often, and seeing the way that Face’s irises had almost disappeared in the black of his dilated pupils, he was starting to regret that fact right now. Face gasped quietly as Hannibal pressed against his swollen prostate and his eyes fluttered shut in bliss making Hannibal’s cock jump in his shorts. “Let me,” he whispered in the voice he saved for moments like this, “you have no idea how much I want to.”
Face certainly wasn’t about to argue anymore; he was happy that Hannibal wasn’t doing this under some false sense of obligation and so lay back down on his arms, his cock trapped firmly between his stomach and the pillow and opened his thighs a tiny bit further to give Hannibal even better access. “I love you,” was all he breathed as he felt that warm tongue swiping towards his entrance once more.
This time Hannibal made sure he was comfortable. He kept his finger pushed right in, but swirled his tongue around and around his digit, making the whole area slick with saliva. Face was gently rolling his hips in and out of the pillow, his breath steadily becoming heavier, his buttocks, which Hannibal was spreading with one large hand, flushed with hot, fresh blood. Briefly sliding another finger in alongside the first, Hannibal quickly scissored the stretching hole before pulling completely out and slipping his tongue straight in, pushing the taught muscle as far as it would go into Face welcoming heat.
“Oh!” Face thrust erratically into the pillow as he felt that warm, wet intrusion into his most private of places. “Jesus, boss,” he gasped, “you have no idea how good that feels...”
Hannibal would have smiled, but he was too busy licking around the velvety smooth sides of Face’s insides, twisting his tongue as much as he possibly could, flicking the tip into clenching muscles, teasing and stroking while enjoying every twitch and moan he was wringing from Face. And then he pulled out, slowly drawing his slick tongue from the grasping hole, only to swirl it around the puckered opening and then push straight back in. Yet again Face bucked, his breathy moans getting louder by the second and Hannibal knew it was time to bring this to a spectacular conclusion.
Three times more he slowly, slowly withdrew only to push straight back in again, and then the fourth time he slipped his finger in, competing for space in the tight channel with his tongue.
With practised ease, the soft pad of Hannibal’s finger found Face’s prostate once more and started up a rhythmic stimulation while his tongue thrust alongside. Face soon picked up on the rhythm and the rocking of his hips became more pronounced, his breathing more laboured and Hannibal could just picture how he would look, fists tight in the bedding, eyes shut tight, lips parted as he tipped closer and closer to his orgasm. And then Hannibal felt Face’s thighs, pressed tight to his own shoulders, start to tighten and he quickened his pace, knowing the edge was fast approaching. His own cock, ignored and drooling precum all over the inside of his shorts, was throbbing in time with his tongue thrusts and he couldn’t overlook it any more. He pulled his hand from Face’s ass, feeling the delicious press of flesh against his face and frantically shoved his own shorts down, taking hold of his pulsing cock just as Face’s thrusts started to get erratic and his moans of pleasure became desperate grunts.
He frantically worked his own cock with one hand whilst pushing Face’s prostate over the edge with the other. The hoarse cry from the top of the bed, followed by those thrusting hips stuttering to a halt and the spasming of the smooth walls around his tongue, told Hannibal that his boy had reached the edge and was now free falling into ecstatic oblivion, twitching with every spurt of his cock, while Hannibal’s fist quickly drew out his own orgasm.
As soon as that clenching around his tongue had stilled and Face had slumped, a boneless heap, into the duvet, Hannibal gently pulled out his finger and his tongue, feeling the previously unnoticed ache of his jaw, and wiping his hand clean of his own semen on the sheets. He lapped gently at the stretched hole, removing some of the saliva that was dripping a shining train down towards Face’s balls and pressed a loving kiss right on the puckered muscle. Then he crawled up the bed, kicking his shorts off as he went and suddenly feeling every minute of missed sleep. He hauled Face’s limp body out of the two sticky patches they’d made and over to the clean side of the bed and with the very last of his energy, he pulled off his t-shirt and then tugged Face up against him before yanking the duvet up to cover them both. He stretched out a hand, only just managing to poke a finger tip at the light switch and as the room fell into darkness, he felt Face shift and settle against his chest.
“I love you, John,” came the mumbled voice, right against Hannibal’s skin, and Hannibal slid his arms around the warm body nestled against him and dropped a fiercely possessive kiss down into his hair.
“I love you too, Temp,” he whispered, “with everything I am.”
Face pressed a sloppy kiss to Hannibal’s chest in reply and within minutes they were both asleep.
__________________________
When Hannibal awoke, there was a thin line of sunshine trying to edge around the sides of the curtains and an empty space in the bed next to him. “Face?” his voice was sleep roughened and he looked towards the silent en-suite, heart thumping in mounting panic. “Face?!”
Silence was the only reply he had to his call, and as he flicked the light on and swung his legs out of the bed he suddenly noticed the lack of clothing strewn around the room, the lack of toiletries on the bathroom shelf, the lack of shoes on the floor by the door and his heart fell hard into his stomach. “Face?” he asked again, this time not expecting an answer and his head fell into his hands. “He’s gone,” he whispered to the empty room, knowing damn well that if Face wanted to disappear from them all he would. In the blink of an eye he could make himself vanish, Templeton Peck would simply cease to exist and Face would become anyone he wanted to be.
Hannibal’s fingers squeezed through his hair and then he reached down to pick up his dried, sticky shorts up off the floor wondering on how likely it would be that Face would answer his phone. He knew that Face hadn’t run from him, not really, had run from Adele and the pressures that he couldn’t cope with but Hannibal wasn’t stupid enough to think that he had helped Face at all through this, no, if anything he had made the whole ordeal a damn sight harder for Face than it could have been. It was just tragic that last night’s attempt to prove to Face that things were changing hadn’t convinced him at all.
He threw the soiled shorts disgustedly away from him, realising he couldn’t wear them and let his head fall into his hands again as the room started to blur around him. Hannibal was a pragmatic, practical person by nature who rarely let events get on top of him, but just then all he needed was to sit and wallow in misery for a while, rehashing the events of the last couple of weeks and drawing out every damn thing he had done wrong.
He was vaguely aware of the sound of footsteps in the corridor outside but froze mid-breath when he heard them stop outside the door, the sound of a key card being inserted sent his heart back into overdrive and then the door swung open revealing Face balancing two coffee cups on top of each other, a large brown paper bag under one arm, and another in his teeth as he struggled to tug the key card from the lock.
Hannibal just stared, blinking away the moisture from his eyes as he watched Face kick the door shut behind him before taking the bag from his teeth and turning to smile at Hannibal. The smile died on his lips however as he took in the expression on his commander’s face as he sat naked on the side of the bed and he instantly dumped all his bags and cups on the dresser falling to his knees in front of Hannibal and pulling him in to a fierce embrace. “Oh, boss,” he whispered, knowing instantly what was wrong and feeling Hannibal’s arms tighten around him, “I’d never walk out on you, never. I’m sorry I didn’t leave a note, I didn’t think I’d be that long – I only went to get breakfast!”
Hannibal felt his face flush in embarrassment at his over reaction to the situation and pulled Face even closer towards him, smelling the familiar combination of shampoo and body spray and letting the relief of having him back wash through him. “I know,” he muttered into Face’s neck, “I’m sorry, kid. I just thought,” he swallowed hard, “these past weeks, I just thought I’d pushed you away.”
Now it was Face’s arms that tightened and Hannibal had to squeeze his eyes tightly shut against the moisture he felt welling up there. “Never,” Face replied thickly. “You’re everything to me John, everything.” Hannibal could hear the emotion in Face’s voice now and felt a surge of guilt at upsetting him yet again. “How would I ever get through this business with Adele without you here to support me?”
Time seem to stand still as they held each other in the silent hotel room, but in that silence, Hannibal decided that that’s exactly what he would do from now on, all choices were Face’s, all decisions were his alone. Hannibal would be there with him, every step of the way but supporting, not commanding, and maybe then he would be the partner that Face deserved.
Next
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2011-10-19 06:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-10-20 08:37 pm (UTC)I love Murdock and I adore the relationship he has with Face even more, but I'm afraid I'm just so Hannibal/Face convinced, that they always do get most of my attention!
no subject
Date: 2011-10-20 08:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-10-20 10:29 pm (UTC)