First Post!
The A-Team Kink Meme
Okay, so hopefully this can get off the ground. Let's hit it.
Last Thursday I went to see this new movie called The A-Team. I fell in love with it and the characters, but lo and behold when I arrived to livejournal to look for fandom and fic, there was none! What a dilemma. After seeing several secrets on Fandomsecrets of other fans not ( Read more... )
Okay, so hopefully this can get off the ground. Let's hit it.
Last Thursday I went to see this new movie called The A-Team. I fell in love with it and the characters, but lo and behold when I arrived to livejournal to look for fandom and fic, there was none! What a dilemma. After seeing several secrets on Fandomsecrets of other fans not ( Read more... )
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Face complied easily when they first cross-paths. A simple lieutenant in his squadron who caught his eye (and more likely his scent), and ducked his head just a little whenever they would by-pass one another until Hannibal acted on it. A simple touch to the wrist, and they were fast friends with hidden knowledge in their smiles. Beta, the wolf in him marked him as.
As their own two man wolf pack, they hauled ass through the lush greens that the forest offered, wrestling each other into mud and thoroughly making a filth coat out of their fur. It was easy going, and Face never once showed any initiative to take some sort of command. He was content where he was, tongue lolling from his jaws at second command, letting the air part his fur and cool his skin.
It was B.A who had the issue with superiority.
Proverbial hackles rose when they came into contact, and Face had always been an outsider watching for the duration of their silent pissing match. The score would be settled at the next high moon, when they changed again. When they had no choice. For some reason, the idea of it when they could change on cue held no sense.
B.A was burly - big with markings that would've suited a rottweiler, and jaws that could put a pitt-bull to shame. Alas, when they clashed, Hannibal won with cunning and claw, though the final strike was wrangling B.A's throat between ready-to-sink-in teeth, a guttural growl congested in his throat leaking out like oil. A simple tuck of the tail signaled friendship, and the three took to ruckus of the forests, dashing over fallen logs and falling into foxholes dug and forgotten.
When it came to Murdock - there was a hint of something that should've been there, but none of the three could put it down to a T.
Until later. When Nam was a memory, and B.A's van claimed the title king of the road, roaring over asphalt onto some new mission. Driving by day was still a fickle idea, still too much of a risk (as much as Hannibal loved their company). It was the brisk of night, and the cool air ripped through the windows, nuzzling hair into motion, when a scent rose.
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"What's that?" He looked about, nose whiffing until it drew his gaze in Murdock's direction. The man was fidgeting, squeaking noises that sounded like - like whines. Little dog whines.
Hannibal perked in the shadow of his seat, and snapped a glance over his shoulder. The van hiccuped in it's straight line, but otherwise B.A showed no other signs of effect.
"Face - " Hannibal meant to warn, but it happened to fast.
Clothes shred and fur came to surface, canine attribute replacing strong human ones. Fur flew from the spontaneous change, and it was at that point everyone regretted not locking the side door. Or making sure Murdock wasn't playing with the dang controls of it.
The captain recovered quickly form his tuck and roll with a shake of floppy ears, long limbs making him fall over himself like a new fawn. White rimmed his eyes, and when the other three sprinted to him (B.A had executed lovely skills of breaking and stopping), he growled.
Then attempted to prance and rub himself all along Hannibal's legs, tail jerking this way and that in something that could've been called a wag, but would've been wrong to.
"I knew it, I knew it." Face grinned, hands on his hips, chin jutting toward the tawny creature. He reached out to brush his fingers against Murdock's head. "I just knew there was something there, but I - Ow!"
Murdock clipped his teeth again as Face tugged back his hand, before snorting and shaking out his hackles. He danced away from imploring hands, tail flagged and ears drawn back, before ducking and slinking over to Hannibal.
"Why you -"
"Be easy on him now, Face. He's basically a pup." Hannibal enlightened, patting the (once again) wriggling beast on the head.
"Sucka ain't gettin' back in my van. He's already sheddin'." B.A huffed, his wolf growling in his throat. Murdock snarled in retort, but was silenced with a vicious look. He ducked, belly right to the ground.
"Well it's not exactly something you can help. We need to get where we're going, and before Murdock decides -"
But the fool was already bounding off, bawling at some moon rabbit. Hannibal glanced at Face, and with a reluctant roll of his eyes, the men was shucking fabric and garments and taking off after in wolf skin.
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At first, B.A had drawn the small stick.
Their minds changed quickly when Hannibal and Face arrived to the household to find clumps of fur everywhere, and Murdock miraculously on the high shelter of a tree branch, which B.A was barking at.
It seemed he'd jump from the window ledge to reach it, something none of them questioned.
And so, that was how it came to be that he resided with Face.
His shifting was off; almost bi-polar. Human and speaking one minute, a bundle of uncontainable energy the next, literally bouncing off walls and chewing up Face's shoes.
It took numerous chomps and snaps and even throttles to prove to Murdock that you do not. fuck. with an alpha's belongings. They got on well for the most part (as they had previously in their... relationship), but it was hard to sleep when every interval your slumber buddy was altering states. Murdock would always apologize, either vocally as a human or with a whimper in wolf mode, cold nose always nudging in the most uncomfortable spots.
It was keeping him on a short leash when full moon's came about that it got really difficult.
He was still zaney and insane, even as a wolf. He bounded one way then flipped over himself to go the other way all in the same millisecond, falling into streams and bashing off of luming tree's.
And always. Always. Grating nerves.
Hannibal took it for so long until he snapped. And snapped hard.
He lunged, snarling, catching Murdock in the ear and spinning him about to bash his paws against his nose, before shifting his maw to get a grip on his neck, effectively subduing him. Instead of watching like a good second in command, instincts had Face moving and attempting to over-throw Hannibal.
It all ended in sore egos, heaving pants and wound-licking.
While Murdock panted away happily, a gung-ho happy look plastered all over his stupid puppy-like face.
I can't wait until he's matured, rumbled Hannibal, treating the pad of his paw with his tongue.
He lucky he ain't dead yet, B.A bared his teeth from where he was perched, and Murdock ducked his head, resting completely flat.
M'sorry friends, real yup sorry, Murdock's English in canine form was still broken, and would be for some time. No one doubted it for a moment.
As the sun came to a curious rise, the four regarded each other, and Face huffed as fur crumbled away from skin, turning pinky warm instead of cow-patterened.
'Til next week, folks.
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Thanks for posting!
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:3
But seriously, we can never get enough werewolf fic. EVER.
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