FIC: Damn Fools (M, movieverse, F/M)
Title: Damn Fools
Genre: Everything. Fluff. Crack. Romance. Angst. Humour.
Fandom: A-Team Movieverse
Warnings: Slash, language, sexual things
Summary: Challenge from the A-Team Prompts meme (as 99% of my stories are): BA sets up Face and Murdock.
Introducing Bosco "BA" Baracus in: The Adventures of the Not-So-Magical Negro!
BA hated getting involved in other people’s personal business. He especially hated getting involved in other people’s personal romantic business. And even more than that, he hated getting involved in, or even thinking about, the personal romantic business of his teammates.
What BA hated most of all, though, was watching people be damn fools.
Right now, those two facets of BA’s personality were in conflict.
It had been that way for a while now, though the onset had been slow. Like the plot of one of those godawful soap operas everyone knew Face watched when he was convalescing, this situation had had a ridiculously slow reveal. BA determinedly told himself many times a week that if he’d known what it would mushroom into, he would have buried his head in the sand from the start and never got involved.
Because he was involved, much as he grit his teeth against it. He was the one who had to watch the damn thing.
It started with signs that, despite how many times BA looked back at them with a view to retroactively warning himself should he ever encounter a plutonium-fuelled Delorean, no one would have batted an eye at. Nine years ago, Face and Murdock had been the first members of the new Team to bond. BA was still shaken after Murdock’s helicopter escape (“ANGRY!” he’d insisted sternly. So damn ANGRY that he never wanted to get into an aircraft ever again because he’d get so full of rage that he’d pass out). To no one’s surprise, he’d wanted nothing to do with the pilot.
His first impressions of Face had been similarly unfavourable - who did this hotshot think he was, jeopardising a mission and the life of the legendary Hannibal Smith just to get some pussy? No, this kid didn’t appreciate what he had, and BA thought he had his number right away. Good looking, over-privileged rich boy, probably had WASPy parents who’d funded his whole education right through to the Army, got his position on Hannibal’s team because of some connections his daddy had... BA wasn’t interested in getting to know Face any more than he had to in order to work with the guy.
Hannibal, of course, in his freaky mind-reading way, had seen this and thrown the new Team together in shared accommodation on base. Obviously it worked, and BA realised he’d been wrong about the brash Lieutenant, struck up a friendship with him, learned to consider him family and see colours he never knew, blah blah Disney shit blah blah. BA even had to reluctantly, sometimes, on a good day, admit that even Crazy had grown on him a little bit, like a cat that comes around all the time and one day you realise you’d be kinda sad if it got hit by a car.
Needless to say, things were fine within the Team now, even with the added stresses of being federal fugitives and often having to share one bathroom. In the beginning, though, it had been a bit fractured. During those first few weeks, Hannibal mediated between BA and the other two, who’d circled like wary dogs for a while before gingerly sniffing each other and realising they liked what they smelled. (BA had never been able to come up with a more fitting but less disgusting metaphor for the whole thing, no matter how much he tried.)
So the two fools had bonded. That was fine. Nothing unusual there. But BA couldn’t help noticing things about their friendship. They were close - in a physical, touchy, no-personal-boundaries-of-any-kind sort of way. At first, it raised BA’s eyebrows. He wasn’t used to being around men who were so... demonstrative. It definitely wasn’t anything he’d seen in the Army before. After getting to know them a bit better though, he dismissed it. Murdock was like a grabby toddler and was always getting into your space when he wanted attention, feeding, burping or whatever stupid thing he thought was important enough to come into your garage and pester you with. Face, BA chalked up to him just being a tactile guy who was used to a certain amount of physical contact that the ladies couldn’t always provide when he was on base. Not that there was anything sexual about his friendship with Murdock.
Not in the beginning, anyway.
Because he was ignoring the touches, in-jokes, cuddles (he was especially ignoring the cuddles), indulgences and anything that sounded like a giggle coming from their direction, BA wasn’t on the alert for when things started to change. All he knew was, one day last year he’d been watching the two of them laughing about some dumb thing Murdock said and for some reason, on that day BA saw it like an outsider would. The looks on their faces had hit him like a pellet gun to the chest. There was no mistaking it or pretending it was just friendship, camaraderie or even bromance. Those two were looking at each other, laughing, and BA saw that they were in love.
God dammit, he’d sighed to himself at the time, going back to his own work. Like they weren’t already annoying enough, now he was gonna have to put up with their stupid lovers’ quarrels and PDAs. If he even THOUGHT he heard a squeaky bedspring or suspicious sounding moan in the middle of night, he was throwing both of them out the window.
BA wasn’t homophobic or ignorant the way people might assume from his upbringing and blunt way of speaking. He didn’t think that Gay was something that only happened to other people. He wasn’t looking for it, but he wasn’t about to deny it when it was staring him in the face making gooey eyes at his teammates. BA knew that Face would sleep with any woman between the ages of 18 and 80 and he didn’t think that was a front, but it didn’t mean he and Murdock weren’t getting up to stuff that BA didn’t want to think about them getting up to.
It made sense. The looks, the touches that had gone from just frequent to lingering and borderline inappropriate (it wasn’t normal to rest your hand on the small of your bro’s back, it just wasn’t). The fact that Face and Murdock spent so much time together that it had become a given, towards the end of their time in the Army, that the two of them would take vacations together during down time... Things people just wrote off as two friends who had no other family to spend time with now jumped out at BA as obvious signs of what was going on.
God dammit, he’d thought again, standing up and stomping to the cooler for a beer. He was never going to be able to hear them tell that lobster story the same way again.
After his internal revelation, BA tried to ignore what was going on between Face and Murdock. He didn’t object, but he damn well didn’t want to think about it. With his new perspective, though, he couldn’t help but notice other things and some of those just didn’t add up. Face was still sleeping with any woman who didn’t have a moustache you could strain soup through (and even the verdict on that one was out thanks to poor, unfortunately-follicled Janice). BA would have thought it was just a ruse that the two of them had worked out, but it didn’t fit. Face would sometimes hop from one woman’s bed to another every day of the week, and BA couldn’t see how that was necessary no matter what kind of reputation Face wanted to maintain.
And Face and Murdock were definitely sleeping together, but only ever fully clothed and they’d been passing out in each other’s beds like that for years. Sometimes it was from fatigue after a mission or intense Mario Kart battle, other times it was alcohol or Hannibal-enforced sedatives, but whatever the reason, it wasn’t abnormal to find the two of them collapsed in the same cot. Once or twice, they hadn’t even made it to a bed and been found the next morning on the floor, using each other as pillows. They’d been doing that kind of thing for the entire time they’d known each other. BA was sure that if they’d been together for that long, he would have noticed before now. Subtle was one thing Face and Murdock were not.
He didn’t want to dwell on it, but BA couldn’t help but join all the dots and realise that even with the disturbing amount of time those two spent together, there really wasn’t any time for... relationship stuff. They hadn’t been away one-on-one since months before the whole mess with the plates started and since then, the team had either been separated or living in each other’s shadows - “each other” being all four of them, not just those two. There just wouldn’t have been any way to hide it if half of the team was having sex (DAMMIT, groused BA, because that was exactly what he hadn’t wanted to think about).
When he’d realised what was actually going on - or what wasn’t - BA had wanted to punch them both. He hadn’t been wrong about them being in love. He was just the only one of the three of them who realised it.
Which was fine, he’d told himself. Not any of his business. They wanted to keep things at the level they were at, it was up to them. Nothing to do with BA.
Nothing to do with him, except that he had to watch it. And it was getting annoying.
It wasn’t like he was seeing Face moon over Murdock or Murdock pulling Face’s pigtails. This was worse. BA had to watch the damn idiots be so clearly, blindingly, obviously in love with each other and not realise it. It was worse than talking to someone with spinach in their teeth. It was RIGHT THERE and they couldn’t even see it. Face kept running off with those women, Murdock would do whatever the hell Murdock did (LA LA LA! shouted BA’s brain very loudly) and they kept not seeing the one thing they could do that would make them really happy.
Yeah, yeah. BA wanted his friends to be happy. It sounded corny but they’d all been through some rough shit lately and however much he wanted to smash their heads together like two coconuts sometimes, Face and Murdock were his brothers and he loved them no matter what. He couldn’t think of two guys who deserved a good break more.
And so BA found himself in the unwanted, unenviable position of Reluctant But Necessary Matchmaker.
God dammit.
BA decided Face would be the best one to approach. This wasn’t going to be fun for anybody, but it would be marginally less painful if BA had this conversation with an actual person rather than a sock puppet intermediary. Why, he lamented with a familiar sense of martyrdom, couldn’t his friends be normal?
Before cornering Face by the pool in their current scammed house (of course Face would consider a pool an “essential”), BA made a run to the liquor store down the road. If he had to do this, he was damn well gonna do it with beers.
Said beers were now either bubbling away in his stomach unpleasantly, clenched in his and Face’s hands or resting within easy reach in the cooler. BA had downed two in the kitchen before telling himself to man up and trudging to the deck chair beside Face, thrusting a beer at him resentfully. Face didn’t seem to notice BA’s unusually sullen demeanour and had accepted the beer with a nod of thanks.
“Something on your mind, big guy?” Face asked, taking a swig. Okay, so maybe he noticed something.
BA grunted. This was already not going the way he wanted it to. He needed to be on the offensive: If Face started twisting the conversation and doing that stupid silver tongued thing he did, they’d get off track and BA was sure as hell not gonna try this again.
“We been out of the Army nearly a year,” BA replied, ignoring the question. There was an order he wanted to say things in. He’d memorised the dot points beforehand.
Face nodded again. “Yep.” He raised his beer in a mock toast before taking another pull.
“Lots of stuff’s changed,” BA continued resolutely, not looking at his friend. “I know we still act like we’re in the Army most of the time, but we’re not. Some ways, we got more freedom.”
Normally, Face would have laughed and made a flippant remark about the fugitive lifestyle hardly being a free one, occasional poolside sunbakes notwithstanding. This time, he took in BA’s pursed lips and clear discomfort and realised his friend had something serious he wanted to say. “How do you figure?” Face asked instead.
BA shrugged. He’d hoped that Face would have picked up on it at that point by doing that annoying mind-ready thing he did sometimes. Trust Pretty Boy to never use his powers to make anyone else’s life easier. “Army’s got rules for a lot of things. Some things that ain’t anyone else’s business.” He cleared his throat and rolled the beer bottle between his hands. In his peripheral vision, he could see that Face had gone very still. “I reckon now that it’s just us, we don’t have to stick with that bullshit no more. Been a hard year for all of us. We find something that makes it a little easier, well, I don’t think there’s any shame in it, wherever it comes from.”
He forced himself to look Face in the eye. The conman had gone unusually white under his tan but his expression revealed nothing. “Point is,” BA continued, words coming easier now that he could see the finish line approaching, “We’re all family. Been that way for a long time. If you’re worried about the dynamics, you don’t gotta be. We’re stronger than that. I got your back, same as I know you got mine.”
If Face’s complexion was returning to a healthier shade, it was only because it was currently making the transition from deathly pale to bright red. He seemed flummoxed and embarrassed, which was a first as far as BA could remember. The bigger man decided to just keep barrelling through. Face could figure out what he wanted to say later - hopefully nothing and they could act like this conversation never happened.
“Murdock’s a good guy,” BA said gruffly, the pilot’s real name feeling strange on his tongue after years of replacing it with “fool” and various synonyms thereof. “He cares about you a lot. You don’t gotta worry about that.” It wasn’t his place to shake Face and scream that Murdock was clearly in love with him, but letting him know the crazy man returned Face’s obvious feelings would hopefully spur the blond into action and BA could forget about this whole stupid thing by dinnertime.
Unless he heard the idiots consummating their new relationship tonight. Happy for them or not, BA would still throw them out the window if he heard any dude moans.
“So.” BA forced himself to maintain eye contact. Just a few more seconds and then this insanely uncomfortable moment would be over. “We clear?”
Face nodded dumbly, mouth slightly agape but making no attempt to speak.
Thank god. “We cool?”
Face nodded again, swallowing thickly. “We’re cool,” he croaked. He coughed a little bit and took a long chug of his beer.
BA sighed, relieved. “Okay.” He let out a small laugh. “Fuck, man. No offense, but thank god that’s over.” BA chuckled again and figured, What the hell. He leaned forward and clapped Face on the back as he stood up, about as close to a hug or physical display of affection as he ever got.
Face flinched but recovered quickly. As BA turned to go, he licked his lips and spoke. “BA.” The bigger man turned back. Face looked in his general direction but didn’t quite meet his gaze. “Um. Thanks. For talking to me. I… Yeah.”
BA nodded, shoulders feeling thirty times lighter. “No problem, man.” He raised his beer to Face and made his way back to the house with a gait that was practically skipping, but couldn’t have been because BA don’t skip.
He made it inside just in time to miss Face dropping his head into his hands and starting to shake.
Two weeks later, BA was not a happy Baracus. He’d given Face a suitable grace period to get his shit together and write Murdock a love letter in rose petals or whatever the hell Face did when he was interested in someone. BA knew that he couldn’t expect Face to change his relationship with his best friend overnight just cos BA was sick of them being oblivious morons. He’d hoped it would be quick, but he knew he couldn’t expect it to be instant.
But still. Two weeks, man. Two weeks that seemed to be even worse than before BA said anything.
Before, Murdock and Face were annoying because they were so clearly perfect for each other that you wanted to punch them in the head until they realised it. Now, Face was skittish and strange, barely speaking to Murdock at all and giving BA very odd looks when he thought BA wasn’t looking. He’d lost a bit of weight and was spending increasing amounts of time away from the house, ignoring Hannibal’s noises of disapproval. There were unusually large bags under his eyes and if BA didn’t know any better, he’d swear that Face wasn’t moisturising anymore.
Of course this behaviour hadn’t gone unnoticed. Murdock was clearly worried about his friend and oscillated between hand-wringing anxiousness and off the walls mania. In the latter states, he’d try to cheer Face up and invariably end up breaking something, hurting himself or irritating Face to the point of locking himself in his room. That was worrying, too. Even when Sosa broke up with him (cold-hearted bitch), Face hadn’t shut Murdock out. He’d eventually talked to all of them about it, sometimes too much after a few Jack and cokes, but Murdock had been the one he’d gone to first.
God damn stubborn jackass. BA had wanted to make things better by talking to Face. Now it was even more retarded.
Well, he’d caused this mess. Clearly Face had been the wrong choice. Catholic guilt or commitment phobia or whatever the hell his issue was. BA sighed and grabbed his keys, heading out the door to his trusty liquor store again. For this conversation, he’d need the hard stuff.
There was a knock on Murdock’s bedroom door. He looked up from where he’d been colouring his toenails with Jiffy marker.
“Come in!” he called in falsetto. “Unless you’re the Feds in which case this is a recorded message and no hablo ingles senor.”
The door was shoved open. It was BA. Murdock tried to squash the part of his that was disappointed it wasn’t Face. He liked BA too.
“Hey, Boscorita! What’s the happy-haps?”
BA’s lips did that funny tightening thing they did when Murdock knew he was counting to ten inside. Murdock counted along in his head too. ...seven...eight...nine...
“Need to talk to you, Fool.”
Murdock gestured to the tiny empty spot on his bed amongst the clothes, rumpled sheets, magazines, crayons and one or two Hot Wheels cars. “Talk away! My ears were made to be holes for your troubles.”
BA did the lip thing again. This time, Murdock mouthed along. ...six...seven...eight... While they were counting, BA shoved Murdock’s detritus aside and sat beside him on the bed. He levelled the pilot with a Class 7B stare.
“Before I start,” BA began, “I’m gonna lay it down: No crazy stuff. No puppets, no invisible pets and no weird accents. I wanna spend this whole time talking to James Murdock, not Sir Nigel whoever or Doctor Ralph Dinglebutt.”
“Ralph Dahl-Botte, MD,” corrected Murdock helpfully. “And Nigel’s only a Lord.” BA glared. Murdock made a zipping motion across his lips and threw away the key. He knew this must be serious if BA was using Murdock’s real name. He didn’t even know Bosco KNEW his first name.
At that thought, Murdock’s stomach clenched and bad electricity staticked down his spine. What if this was about Face? What if Face was upset with him and had sent BA to say something? What if, oh god. What if Face was sick and couldn’t bear to tell Murdock himself? He had been losing weight and looking a more grey shade of tanned lately... Oh god, Face was sick. Oh please let it be something minor. Please let him be okay. Please please please please please...
“Crazy?”
Whoops, fading out again. Murdock opened his mouth to respond but realised it was still locked shut. He nodded exaggeratedly and gave BA a thumbs up to show that he was listening. He chewed his bottom lip through the lock. Please let Facey be okay.
BA seemed to understand. Or maybe Murdock’s breathing was getting more rapid than he thought. It was hard to hyperventilate when you couldn’t open your mouth. Nostrils could only flare so wide. Bosco put a hand on Murdock’s shoulder, squeezing hard enough that the pain kept him in the here-and-now, gave him something tactile to focus on.
“Murdock.” His real name again. Don’t think about how that means it’s serious. “It’s okay. This ain’t a bad thing. There’s nothing wrong. Nothing that can’t be sorted out, anyway.”
Okay. Murdock nodded again. BA’s hand was still squeezing, but his thumb was rubbing Murdock’s shoulder gently. It helped the bad crackles in the corners of his vision fade. Face wasn’t sick. Okay.
“It’s...” BA sighed. “This isn’t easy for me, okay, Crazy? I don’t wanna be having this conversation. I want you to know that. Face was supposed to talk to you but he’s being an even bigger moron than I expected.” Murdock cocked his head, confused now. What was BA talking about? “No one on this team is normal, man. Not you, not me, not Face, definitely not Hannibal. We never been what people expected and that ain’t been nothing but a strength for us since day one.”
Was Bosco drunk? Murdock thought he could smell something strong on his breath. Bourbon? BA never drank bourbon.
“There’s so many ways we don’t fit the mould of what a Ranger should be, or what an Army unit should be, why should we worry about that stuff now that we ain’t even in the Army no more?”
It was definitely bourbon. BA’s eyes were a little glazed too.
“I say there’s enough people out there, especially now, trying to make life shit for us that we can’t afford to miss it when what could make us happy is right in front of us.”
Murdock really wished he hadn’t thrown that key away. He had no idea what was going on.
“Crazy, do you have any idea how frustrating it is to see that what you need is right under your damn nose? I thought Face would handle it when I told him; he ain’t no stranger to... whatever the hell he wants to call it. Courtship, wooing, whatever...”
Did Bosco just say “wooing”? Murdock wanted some of that liquor for himself. He eyed BA’s pockets. Maybe he had a flask.
“Anyway, you seen how well that went down. It’s my fault he’s been acting like that. I ain’t saying he’s not interested! I just think I dumped it on him kinda sudden and he don’t know how to take it.”
Wait. Was Bosco...? All that stuff about the Army and being normal. Was this...? Oh.
Oh.
Oh.
Oh fuck.
“Bosco,” Murdock wavered, lock be damned. BA cut him off.
“Face is a good guy, Murdock,” the larger man continued stoically. The crackles and static were back. “He, shit, he loves you man. He really, really does.”
Please stop, Bosco. Murdock didn’t want to break BA’s rules, but he didn’t think he could get through this on his own. He needed Lord Nigel or Billy, or even just a random fact about silkworms to lighten the mood. He didn’t want to talk about this or listen to it. Dr Ralph was trying to pull him away and distract him, but he’d promised BA he’d stay. Hadn’t he? He couldn’t remember. He’d meant to though. Murdock clenched his hands into fists and tried to focus on the bite of his nails into his palm (they needed cutting) and the feel of Bosco’s hand still on his shoulder (heavy). Don’t go away. Stay here. It sucks but it will be over soon. Just stay here for a little longer.
“You okay, Crazy?” BA was frowning at him. “I didn’t mean to- shit.” He rubbed his face, letting go of Murdock’s shoulder. “I ain’t good at this. Look. Just talk to Face, okay, man? Hate seein’ you two like this.”
Talk to Face. Sure. That was usually fun. Right now the thought of it made Murdock feel like he’d been dunked in ice water and he was pretty sure he was shaking from the imaginary cold, but he could talk to Face. No problem.
“Anyway. I’m gonna stop puttin’ my foot in my mouth.” BA stood up, causing the bed to bounce slightly. Murdock’s stomach lurched. “You sure you’re okay?”
Okay cheek muscles, it’s your time to shine. Murdock pulled his lips back from his teeth in what was hopefully an upward direction. “Right as rain, Bosco!”
With one last unsteady look, BA weaved out the door, closing it slightly too loudly behind him. As soon as he was gone, Murdock pitched forward and wrapped his arms around his midsection.
Oh god. Oh. Ohhhh…
He didn’t know why it hurt this bad. He wasn’t… He never… He and Face weren’t…
But this. Face and BA. He just couldn’t. Thinking about it made him feel like his chest was swelling up, inflating bigger and bigger to cover his mouth and nose until he couldn’t breathe. Murdock’s throat spasmed and he wasn’t sure if it was trying to sob or throw up.
Of course Face wouldn’t end up with… Of course he would… Of course. And Face still loved him, BA said. That was nice. In a stabby, horrible kind of way, that was nice. Bosco had meant to be nice.
Murdock didn’t know why this was bothering him and his ability to breathe so much. He’d never, he and Face. They were friends. That’s all he’d ever. But obviously not, because this. Ohh. This. This hurt so much.
He couldn’t lose Face though. He couldn’t let the conman think that he’d reacted badly, not badly in a way that would hurt anyone but Murdock. He wanted his friends to be happy, he really really did. He’d be happy for them, once this selfish nausea went away.
Just a few more minutes. He’d give himself a few more minutes to… what? Grieve? That was stupid. This whole thing was stupid. Murdock wanted a do-over. He’d talk to Face. He just needed a few more minutes.
The knock at the door had Face calling, “Come in,” before he registered what he was doing. Damn it. He just wanted to be alone with his thoughts that were determinedly not focussed on BA, Murdock or anything to do with That Talk. Now there was a two out of three chance that one of the people he wasn’t thinking about was going to come into his-
“Hey, Face.” Yep, 66-percent chance of Murdock.
Face paused in mid-sigh. Murdock looked awful. His skin was blotchy and his eyes were red. Face felt a familiar wave of concern and protectiveness that was, for the first time, tinged with guilt. Had Murdock been having a rough patch that he’d been too wrapped up in his own issues to notice? Maybe he’d even caused it...
Face kicked himself. Of course he’d caused it. Murdock would take Face’s behaviour as a rejection, as evidence that Face wasn’t handling BA’s revelation well. Ah fuck. Face had really ballsed this up.
“Hey, buddy,” he greeted, determined to make things right. “Come in.”
“Uhm.” Murdock’s gaze flitted around the room as he closed the door behind him. “Can I sit down?”
Face scooted over to make room on his immaculately-made bed. Murdock sat, shoulders tense, leaving a good foot and a half between them. He scratched the back of his neck and didn’t speak.
“Hey.” Face gestured to Murdock, indicating his dishevelled state. “Is that because of me?”
Murdock shook his head emphatically. “No! No. No…” He glanced at Face and sighed. “Kinda, yeah. Not your fault though.”
Face ran a hand through his hair. He wanted to lean forward and touch Murdock on the arm, reassure him and ground him, but he didn’t know how that would be received right now. Time to bite the bullet. Two weeks of Face’s wallowing was clearly affecting Murdock in a bad way. The guy should be enjoying his new relationship (Face clenched his teeth), not worrying himself to tears over Face’s reaction.
“Yeah, it is my fault, Murdock.” The pilot opened his mouth to protest but Face ploughed on. “I’ve been an ass. I should have just talked to you. I mean, you’re my best friend, right?”
Murdock shrugged, looking at a spot on the wall between Face’s wardrobe and trash can. “Well, you won’t wear the friendship bracelet.”
“That’s not about the sentiment, that’s about the glitter.” Face ducked his head into Murdock’s line of sight. “I wear it on the inside though.”
Murdock snorted at the corny line like Face knew he would. “’Course you do.”
Face edged a bit closer, careful to still give Murdock his personal space. “I’ve sorry I’ve been a dick.” He clamped down on his inconvenient, flailing emotions. He’d deal with those later. “I love you man, you know that right? I want everything good in the world for you.” Later. Later later later.
It seemed to be the wrong thing to say though. To Face’s dismay, Murdock hunched over further, breathing heavily. Without thinking, the blond reached forward and wrapped an arm around him. He’d seen Murdock through many a panic attack - it was instinctive by now.
“Hey. Hey.” Face’s voice was soft as he pulled Murdock to him. “It’s okay. Shh.” His free hand stroked through Murdock’s messy hair. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It’s okay.”
Murdock was shaking but pulling back. “No, no,” he stuttered, trying to wriggle out of Face’s embrace. “I’m fine. Please don’t…”
Face tightened his grip around Murdock’s shoulders to prevent him from fleeing. His friend tried to twist away. “Murdock, what’s wrong? What did I say? Please let me help.” Face felt like he was calming a spooked animal. He could feel Murdock’s muscles quivering under his touch. “Please stay. Talk to me.”
Murdock let out a shuddering breath that was almost a moan. It hurt Face to hear. “I’m sorry, Face.”
“It’s okay.” Face held Murdock firmly but tenderly. The pilot was shaking and hot, like he had a fever. “It’s okay. Shh.” He stroked Murdock’s hair again. It smelled like fresh sweat and cheap shampoo. It tickled his nose as Face pressed a kiss to the top of Murdock’s head.
Murdock twitched and fisted his hands in the back of Face’s shirt. Face’s hand slipped down to the back of his friend’s neck, fingers gently carding through the wispy hairs there. His thumb stroked behind Murdock’s ear. His breath blew softly on his cheek.
Face’s chest felt tight. He moved his head so he was leaning against Murdock, forehead to forehead. He closed his eyes. He couldn’t do this anymore.
With his eyes closed, Face’s control slipped. His body tugged on the leash and his lips fell onto soft skin. He didn’t know if it was Murdock’s cheek or temple but it didn’t matter. He couldn’t do this.
He couldn’t stop.
Murdock barely had time for a startled intake of breath before Face’s lips were on his. The blond wasted no time with tenderness and etiquette. In direct contrast to the gentleness of his hands, Face’s kiss was bruising and crude. He forced Murdock’s mouth open, sucking his tongue, biting at Murdock’s lips, breathing heavily through his nose as he continued the kiss for longer than either of their lungs could take.
Face couldn’t tell if his body was singing or screaming.
At some point, he realised that the resistance changed. Initially, Murdock pushed away half-heartedly even as his mouth yielded to Face’s assault. Now, he was fighting Face for dominance.
The pilot raked his hands down Face’s back, simultaneously pulling him closer and pushing forwards with his kiss in an effort to lower Face to the mattress. Well. Face wasn’t about to go down without a fight.
The blond gave back as good as he got, putting an almost painful amount of pressure on their lips. He ran a hand down Murdock’s chest, barely able to fit it between them as they pulled each other closer. With a sound that was nearly a snarl, Face pulled away and attacked Murdock’s neck instead, raking his teeth over the pale skin in a very base display of dominance. Not to be outdone, Murdock wriggled his hand up Face’s shirt and scraped his nail over a nipple. Face moaned and his lapse of concentration was all it took for Murdock to gain the advantage and slam his friend backwards onto the bed.
Face scooted back automatically, pulling his feet up onto the mattress as Murdock loomed over him. They broke contact for the first time since the kiss began and the echo of their guttural sounds rang in their ears. They froze, panting, Murdock kneeling between Face’s spread legs. They looked at each other.
Maintaining deliberate eye contact, Murdock leaned forward and slowly, roughly, ground his crotch into Face’s. The blond’s eyes rolled back in his head. “Oh god,” he groaned, sounding embarrassingly wanton to his own ears. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so aroused. He felt like a teenager, body throbbing and desperate for friction.
There was an unpleasantness to it though, that sat in the middle of his desire like a fat, ugly toad. He moaned again and it croaked in disapproval. Fucking toad.
With a loud, frustrated sound that was close to a roar, Face forced himself to pull away from Murdock. It wasn’t easy. The pilot had a relentless grip on his hips and Murdock always chose the most inopportune times to remind people that he was stronger than he looked.
“Murdock,” Face panted, hands on his friend’s thighs to (he insisted to himself) push away from the pilot. “We can’t do this. We have to stop. Fuck.”
Murdock’s lips were swollen and there were prominent bite marks on his neck. Face felt a fresh wave of arousal from his most primal, Alpha male core. The guilt toad croaked warningly. Okay, okay.
“I’m sorry, Face,” sighed Murdock huskily. His hold on Face’s hips tightened but he didn’t move against him again. He looked down at Face with warring expressions of lust and remorse. “I never. I didn’t know I wanted this.” Face closed his eyes as Murdock’s voice cracked. He could really, really relate. What fucking abominable timing. “I don’t want to wreck things for you.” Exactly. Trust Face to realise he had feelings for his best friend just when that best friend found someone el-
Wait.
What?
Face’s eyes flew open. “Wreck things for me?” he repeated, his own voice rough with emotion.
Murdock nodded, looking forlorn and it just wasn’t fair that he made sadness look so fucking sexy. “I love you, Facey, and Bosco too.” Face’s heart stopped. “I don’t want to come between you two. You deserve to be happy together.”
When his heart started beating again, it was with a thundering double-time that roared in Face’s ears. He could barely hear his own words above it as he told Murdock, “I’m not with BA.”
Murdock blinked. Then twitched. Then blinked again. He licked his lips. “You’re not?”
Face shook his head so emphatically that he nearly pitched them both off the bed. “No. NO! I thought you were.”
Murdock’s mouth fell open as if he’d been struck. (Mental note, thought Face, Strike Murdock one day. He’ll forgive you and god DAMN he looks hot.) “What?!” He sounded appalled and confused. “No! I love BA, but no! I’ve never even… But he said… What did he say to you?”
Face scrambled up, mirroring Murdock’s kneeling posture. He thought back. “He said… Well I thought he was saying that you two were together.”
“So did I!” They stared at each other, both trying to remember the exact wording that had led them to that conclusion.
“He was kind of waffling at first,” recalled Face. “He went on about how we shouldn’t let Army regs rule our lives, especially now.”
“Yes!” Murdock pointed at Face in excited agreement. “I didn’t know what he was talking about.”
“I know! It was like, ‘Um, so you want me to burn my patriotic George Bush underwear?’ What the fuck?”
"I know.” Murdock nodded. “Then he talked about happiness and how we all loved each other no matter what, and I thought he was Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell-ing me.”
“Seriously. He was on about the dynamic of the team…”
“He said you loved me…”
“Same! Well, you to me. I think. Something about how you’d always care, blah blah…”
“Yes! I thought he was saying that you’d still be my friend even though you two were together.”
“Oh my god, exactly!” Face paused. “What do you think he was trying to say?”
They both frowned in thought. Several seconds later, at nearly the exactly same moment, their eyes widened.
“Holy shit.”
They stared at each other for a long beat before simultaneously collapsing to the bed, howling with laughter.
BA scowled as he heard two sets of footsteps thump down the stairs and head towards the lounge room where he was TRYING to watch the game. Idiots never kept track of the sports seasons. Too many years in the Army or mental hospitals had made them forget about the important things in life. BA didn’t see why he should have to suffer because his teammates didn’t know the Superbowl from Wimbledon.
As soon as he looked at the doorway, he groaned. There was not enough bourbon in the world. “Aw man. Why? Why you gotta be like that? I don’t need to see that, man.”
Face and Murdock were flushed, clearly hastily dressed with unzipped jeans and shirts buttoned into the wrong holes. They were sweaty and their lips were swollen. Murdock had several prominent bite marks on his neck. No prizes for guessing what they’d been doing.
Undeterred by his reaction, they bounded over way too happily. BA raised his hands up in warning. They were NOT about to hug him, not covered in sweat and god knows what…
“You!” announced Murdock as he and Face stopped in front of BA (blocking the TV because they couldn’t be annoying by halves). “Are the worst matchmaker EVER.”
"Ever,” agreed Face. “Never try to do that again. Promise me.”
“Yeah, well.” BA shifted, uncomfortable with the attention. He’d wanted them to get a clue, but couldn’t they do it without ever talking to him about it or making him think about their weird, annoying love life? “Worked, didn’t it?”
Face and Murdock grinned giant grins at each other, then at BA. Darting in before he could react, Murdock pecked Bosco on the cheek.
"Yup!” he chirped as Face raped BA with a fist bump (bumping his hand without consent while BA was not actually making a fist). “Thanks, Bosco.”
Face was beaming too. Aw, dammit. They were so freaking contagious when they were like this. BA found himself smiling back against his will. “No problem.”
The two of them skipped off back upstairs like demented elves. BA watched them go, shaking his head.
He gave it one week before he’d have to toss them out the window, but it was worth it.
Genre: Everything. Fluff. Crack. Romance. Angst. Humour.
Fandom: A-Team Movieverse
Warnings: Slash, language, sexual things
Summary: Challenge from the A-Team Prompts meme (as 99% of my stories are): BA sets up Face and Murdock.
Introducing Bosco "BA" Baracus in: The Adventures of the Not-So-Magical Negro!
BA hated getting involved in other people’s personal business. He especially hated getting involved in other people’s personal romantic business. And even more than that, he hated getting involved in, or even thinking about, the personal romantic business of his teammates.
What BA hated most of all, though, was watching people be damn fools.
Right now, those two facets of BA’s personality were in conflict.
It had been that way for a while now, though the onset had been slow. Like the plot of one of those godawful soap operas everyone knew Face watched when he was convalescing, this situation had had a ridiculously slow reveal. BA determinedly told himself many times a week that if he’d known what it would mushroom into, he would have buried his head in the sand from the start and never got involved.
Because he was involved, much as he grit his teeth against it. He was the one who had to watch the damn thing.
It started with signs that, despite how many times BA looked back at them with a view to retroactively warning himself should he ever encounter a plutonium-fuelled Delorean, no one would have batted an eye at. Nine years ago, Face and Murdock had been the first members of the new Team to bond. BA was still shaken after Murdock’s helicopter escape (“ANGRY!” he’d insisted sternly. So damn ANGRY that he never wanted to get into an aircraft ever again because he’d get so full of rage that he’d pass out). To no one’s surprise, he’d wanted nothing to do with the pilot.
His first impressions of Face had been similarly unfavourable - who did this hotshot think he was, jeopardising a mission and the life of the legendary Hannibal Smith just to get some pussy? No, this kid didn’t appreciate what he had, and BA thought he had his number right away. Good looking, over-privileged rich boy, probably had WASPy parents who’d funded his whole education right through to the Army, got his position on Hannibal’s team because of some connections his daddy had... BA wasn’t interested in getting to know Face any more than he had to in order to work with the guy.
Hannibal, of course, in his freaky mind-reading way, had seen this and thrown the new Team together in shared accommodation on base. Obviously it worked, and BA realised he’d been wrong about the brash Lieutenant, struck up a friendship with him, learned to consider him family and see colours he never knew, blah blah Disney shit blah blah. BA even had to reluctantly, sometimes, on a good day, admit that even Crazy had grown on him a little bit, like a cat that comes around all the time and one day you realise you’d be kinda sad if it got hit by a car.
Needless to say, things were fine within the Team now, even with the added stresses of being federal fugitives and often having to share one bathroom. In the beginning, though, it had been a bit fractured. During those first few weeks, Hannibal mediated between BA and the other two, who’d circled like wary dogs for a while before gingerly sniffing each other and realising they liked what they smelled. (BA had never been able to come up with a more fitting but less disgusting metaphor for the whole thing, no matter how much he tried.)
So the two fools had bonded. That was fine. Nothing unusual there. But BA couldn’t help noticing things about their friendship. They were close - in a physical, touchy, no-personal-boundaries-of-any-kind sort of way. At first, it raised BA’s eyebrows. He wasn’t used to being around men who were so... demonstrative. It definitely wasn’t anything he’d seen in the Army before. After getting to know them a bit better though, he dismissed it. Murdock was like a grabby toddler and was always getting into your space when he wanted attention, feeding, burping or whatever stupid thing he thought was important enough to come into your garage and pester you with. Face, BA chalked up to him just being a tactile guy who was used to a certain amount of physical contact that the ladies couldn’t always provide when he was on base. Not that there was anything sexual about his friendship with Murdock.
Not in the beginning, anyway.
Because he was ignoring the touches, in-jokes, cuddles (he was especially ignoring the cuddles), indulgences and anything that sounded like a giggle coming from their direction, BA wasn’t on the alert for when things started to change. All he knew was, one day last year he’d been watching the two of them laughing about some dumb thing Murdock said and for some reason, on that day BA saw it like an outsider would. The looks on their faces had hit him like a pellet gun to the chest. There was no mistaking it or pretending it was just friendship, camaraderie or even bromance. Those two were looking at each other, laughing, and BA saw that they were in love.
God dammit, he’d sighed to himself at the time, going back to his own work. Like they weren’t already annoying enough, now he was gonna have to put up with their stupid lovers’ quarrels and PDAs. If he even THOUGHT he heard a squeaky bedspring or suspicious sounding moan in the middle of night, he was throwing both of them out the window.
BA wasn’t homophobic or ignorant the way people might assume from his upbringing and blunt way of speaking. He didn’t think that Gay was something that only happened to other people. He wasn’t looking for it, but he wasn’t about to deny it when it was staring him in the face making gooey eyes at his teammates. BA knew that Face would sleep with any woman between the ages of 18 and 80 and he didn’t think that was a front, but it didn’t mean he and Murdock weren’t getting up to stuff that BA didn’t want to think about them getting up to.
It made sense. The looks, the touches that had gone from just frequent to lingering and borderline inappropriate (it wasn’t normal to rest your hand on the small of your bro’s back, it just wasn’t). The fact that Face and Murdock spent so much time together that it had become a given, towards the end of their time in the Army, that the two of them would take vacations together during down time... Things people just wrote off as two friends who had no other family to spend time with now jumped out at BA as obvious signs of what was going on.
God dammit, he’d thought again, standing up and stomping to the cooler for a beer. He was never going to be able to hear them tell that lobster story the same way again.
After his internal revelation, BA tried to ignore what was going on between Face and Murdock. He didn’t object, but he damn well didn’t want to think about it. With his new perspective, though, he couldn’t help but notice other things and some of those just didn’t add up. Face was still sleeping with any woman who didn’t have a moustache you could strain soup through (and even the verdict on that one was out thanks to poor, unfortunately-follicled Janice). BA would have thought it was just a ruse that the two of them had worked out, but it didn’t fit. Face would sometimes hop from one woman’s bed to another every day of the week, and BA couldn’t see how that was necessary no matter what kind of reputation Face wanted to maintain.
And Face and Murdock were definitely sleeping together, but only ever fully clothed and they’d been passing out in each other’s beds like that for years. Sometimes it was from fatigue after a mission or intense Mario Kart battle, other times it was alcohol or Hannibal-enforced sedatives, but whatever the reason, it wasn’t abnormal to find the two of them collapsed in the same cot. Once or twice, they hadn’t even made it to a bed and been found the next morning on the floor, using each other as pillows. They’d been doing that kind of thing for the entire time they’d known each other. BA was sure that if they’d been together for that long, he would have noticed before now. Subtle was one thing Face and Murdock were not.
He didn’t want to dwell on it, but BA couldn’t help but join all the dots and realise that even with the disturbing amount of time those two spent together, there really wasn’t any time for... relationship stuff. They hadn’t been away one-on-one since months before the whole mess with the plates started and since then, the team had either been separated or living in each other’s shadows - “each other” being all four of them, not just those two. There just wouldn’t have been any way to hide it if half of the team was having sex (DAMMIT, groused BA, because that was exactly what he hadn’t wanted to think about).
When he’d realised what was actually going on - or what wasn’t - BA had wanted to punch them both. He hadn’t been wrong about them being in love. He was just the only one of the three of them who realised it.
Which was fine, he’d told himself. Not any of his business. They wanted to keep things at the level they were at, it was up to them. Nothing to do with BA.
Nothing to do with him, except that he had to watch it. And it was getting annoying.
It wasn’t like he was seeing Face moon over Murdock or Murdock pulling Face’s pigtails. This was worse. BA had to watch the damn idiots be so clearly, blindingly, obviously in love with each other and not realise it. It was worse than talking to someone with spinach in their teeth. It was RIGHT THERE and they couldn’t even see it. Face kept running off with those women, Murdock would do whatever the hell Murdock did (LA LA LA! shouted BA’s brain very loudly) and they kept not seeing the one thing they could do that would make them really happy.
Yeah, yeah. BA wanted his friends to be happy. It sounded corny but they’d all been through some rough shit lately and however much he wanted to smash their heads together like two coconuts sometimes, Face and Murdock were his brothers and he loved them no matter what. He couldn’t think of two guys who deserved a good break more.
And so BA found himself in the unwanted, unenviable position of Reluctant But Necessary Matchmaker.
God dammit.
BA decided Face would be the best one to approach. This wasn’t going to be fun for anybody, but it would be marginally less painful if BA had this conversation with an actual person rather than a sock puppet intermediary. Why, he lamented with a familiar sense of martyrdom, couldn’t his friends be normal?
Before cornering Face by the pool in their current scammed house (of course Face would consider a pool an “essential”), BA made a run to the liquor store down the road. If he had to do this, he was damn well gonna do it with beers.
Said beers were now either bubbling away in his stomach unpleasantly, clenched in his and Face’s hands or resting within easy reach in the cooler. BA had downed two in the kitchen before telling himself to man up and trudging to the deck chair beside Face, thrusting a beer at him resentfully. Face didn’t seem to notice BA’s unusually sullen demeanour and had accepted the beer with a nod of thanks.
“Something on your mind, big guy?” Face asked, taking a swig. Okay, so maybe he noticed something.
BA grunted. This was already not going the way he wanted it to. He needed to be on the offensive: If Face started twisting the conversation and doing that stupid silver tongued thing he did, they’d get off track and BA was sure as hell not gonna try this again.
“We been out of the Army nearly a year,” BA replied, ignoring the question. There was an order he wanted to say things in. He’d memorised the dot points beforehand.
Face nodded again. “Yep.” He raised his beer in a mock toast before taking another pull.
“Lots of stuff’s changed,” BA continued resolutely, not looking at his friend. “I know we still act like we’re in the Army most of the time, but we’re not. Some ways, we got more freedom.”
Normally, Face would have laughed and made a flippant remark about the fugitive lifestyle hardly being a free one, occasional poolside sunbakes notwithstanding. This time, he took in BA’s pursed lips and clear discomfort and realised his friend had something serious he wanted to say. “How do you figure?” Face asked instead.
BA shrugged. He’d hoped that Face would have picked up on it at that point by doing that annoying mind-ready thing he did sometimes. Trust Pretty Boy to never use his powers to make anyone else’s life easier. “Army’s got rules for a lot of things. Some things that ain’t anyone else’s business.” He cleared his throat and rolled the beer bottle between his hands. In his peripheral vision, he could see that Face had gone very still. “I reckon now that it’s just us, we don’t have to stick with that bullshit no more. Been a hard year for all of us. We find something that makes it a little easier, well, I don’t think there’s any shame in it, wherever it comes from.”
He forced himself to look Face in the eye. The conman had gone unusually white under his tan but his expression revealed nothing. “Point is,” BA continued, words coming easier now that he could see the finish line approaching, “We’re all family. Been that way for a long time. If you’re worried about the dynamics, you don’t gotta be. We’re stronger than that. I got your back, same as I know you got mine.”
If Face’s complexion was returning to a healthier shade, it was only because it was currently making the transition from deathly pale to bright red. He seemed flummoxed and embarrassed, which was a first as far as BA could remember. The bigger man decided to just keep barrelling through. Face could figure out what he wanted to say later - hopefully nothing and they could act like this conversation never happened.
“Murdock’s a good guy,” BA said gruffly, the pilot’s real name feeling strange on his tongue after years of replacing it with “fool” and various synonyms thereof. “He cares about you a lot. You don’t gotta worry about that.” It wasn’t his place to shake Face and scream that Murdock was clearly in love with him, but letting him know the crazy man returned Face’s obvious feelings would hopefully spur the blond into action and BA could forget about this whole stupid thing by dinnertime.
Unless he heard the idiots consummating their new relationship tonight. Happy for them or not, BA would still throw them out the window if he heard any dude moans.
“So.” BA forced himself to maintain eye contact. Just a few more seconds and then this insanely uncomfortable moment would be over. “We clear?”
Face nodded dumbly, mouth slightly agape but making no attempt to speak.
Thank god. “We cool?”
Face nodded again, swallowing thickly. “We’re cool,” he croaked. He coughed a little bit and took a long chug of his beer.
BA sighed, relieved. “Okay.” He let out a small laugh. “Fuck, man. No offense, but thank god that’s over.” BA chuckled again and figured, What the hell. He leaned forward and clapped Face on the back as he stood up, about as close to a hug or physical display of affection as he ever got.
Face flinched but recovered quickly. As BA turned to go, he licked his lips and spoke. “BA.” The bigger man turned back. Face looked in his general direction but didn’t quite meet his gaze. “Um. Thanks. For talking to me. I… Yeah.”
BA nodded, shoulders feeling thirty times lighter. “No problem, man.” He raised his beer to Face and made his way back to the house with a gait that was practically skipping, but couldn’t have been because BA don’t skip.
He made it inside just in time to miss Face dropping his head into his hands and starting to shake.
Two weeks later, BA was not a happy Baracus. He’d given Face a suitable grace period to get his shit together and write Murdock a love letter in rose petals or whatever the hell Face did when he was interested in someone. BA knew that he couldn’t expect Face to change his relationship with his best friend overnight just cos BA was sick of them being oblivious morons. He’d hoped it would be quick, but he knew he couldn’t expect it to be instant.
But still. Two weeks, man. Two weeks that seemed to be even worse than before BA said anything.
Before, Murdock and Face were annoying because they were so clearly perfect for each other that you wanted to punch them in the head until they realised it. Now, Face was skittish and strange, barely speaking to Murdock at all and giving BA very odd looks when he thought BA wasn’t looking. He’d lost a bit of weight and was spending increasing amounts of time away from the house, ignoring Hannibal’s noises of disapproval. There were unusually large bags under his eyes and if BA didn’t know any better, he’d swear that Face wasn’t moisturising anymore.
Of course this behaviour hadn’t gone unnoticed. Murdock was clearly worried about his friend and oscillated between hand-wringing anxiousness and off the walls mania. In the latter states, he’d try to cheer Face up and invariably end up breaking something, hurting himself or irritating Face to the point of locking himself in his room. That was worrying, too. Even when Sosa broke up with him (cold-hearted bitch), Face hadn’t shut Murdock out. He’d eventually talked to all of them about it, sometimes too much after a few Jack and cokes, but Murdock had been the one he’d gone to first.
God damn stubborn jackass. BA had wanted to make things better by talking to Face. Now it was even more retarded.
Well, he’d caused this mess. Clearly Face had been the wrong choice. Catholic guilt or commitment phobia or whatever the hell his issue was. BA sighed and grabbed his keys, heading out the door to his trusty liquor store again. For this conversation, he’d need the hard stuff.
There was a knock on Murdock’s bedroom door. He looked up from where he’d been colouring his toenails with Jiffy marker.
“Come in!” he called in falsetto. “Unless you’re the Feds in which case this is a recorded message and no hablo ingles senor.”
The door was shoved open. It was BA. Murdock tried to squash the part of his that was disappointed it wasn’t Face. He liked BA too.
“Hey, Boscorita! What’s the happy-haps?”
BA’s lips did that funny tightening thing they did when Murdock knew he was counting to ten inside. Murdock counted along in his head too. ...seven...eight...nine...
“Need to talk to you, Fool.”
Murdock gestured to the tiny empty spot on his bed amongst the clothes, rumpled sheets, magazines, crayons and one or two Hot Wheels cars. “Talk away! My ears were made to be holes for your troubles.”
BA did the lip thing again. This time, Murdock mouthed along. ...six...seven...eight... While they were counting, BA shoved Murdock’s detritus aside and sat beside him on the bed. He levelled the pilot with a Class 7B stare.
“Before I start,” BA began, “I’m gonna lay it down: No crazy stuff. No puppets, no invisible pets and no weird accents. I wanna spend this whole time talking to James Murdock, not Sir Nigel whoever or Doctor Ralph Dinglebutt.”
“Ralph Dahl-Botte, MD,” corrected Murdock helpfully. “And Nigel’s only a Lord.” BA glared. Murdock made a zipping motion across his lips and threw away the key. He knew this must be serious if BA was using Murdock’s real name. He didn’t even know Bosco KNEW his first name.
At that thought, Murdock’s stomach clenched and bad electricity staticked down his spine. What if this was about Face? What if Face was upset with him and had sent BA to say something? What if, oh god. What if Face was sick and couldn’t bear to tell Murdock himself? He had been losing weight and looking a more grey shade of tanned lately... Oh god, Face was sick. Oh please let it be something minor. Please let him be okay. Please please please please please...
“Crazy?”
Whoops, fading out again. Murdock opened his mouth to respond but realised it was still locked shut. He nodded exaggeratedly and gave BA a thumbs up to show that he was listening. He chewed his bottom lip through the lock. Please let Facey be okay.
BA seemed to understand. Or maybe Murdock’s breathing was getting more rapid than he thought. It was hard to hyperventilate when you couldn’t open your mouth. Nostrils could only flare so wide. Bosco put a hand on Murdock’s shoulder, squeezing hard enough that the pain kept him in the here-and-now, gave him something tactile to focus on.
“Murdock.” His real name again. Don’t think about how that means it’s serious. “It’s okay. This ain’t a bad thing. There’s nothing wrong. Nothing that can’t be sorted out, anyway.”
Okay. Murdock nodded again. BA’s hand was still squeezing, but his thumb was rubbing Murdock’s shoulder gently. It helped the bad crackles in the corners of his vision fade. Face wasn’t sick. Okay.
“It’s...” BA sighed. “This isn’t easy for me, okay, Crazy? I don’t wanna be having this conversation. I want you to know that. Face was supposed to talk to you but he’s being an even bigger moron than I expected.” Murdock cocked his head, confused now. What was BA talking about? “No one on this team is normal, man. Not you, not me, not Face, definitely not Hannibal. We never been what people expected and that ain’t been nothing but a strength for us since day one.”
Was Bosco drunk? Murdock thought he could smell something strong on his breath. Bourbon? BA never drank bourbon.
“There’s so many ways we don’t fit the mould of what a Ranger should be, or what an Army unit should be, why should we worry about that stuff now that we ain’t even in the Army no more?”
It was definitely bourbon. BA’s eyes were a little glazed too.
“I say there’s enough people out there, especially now, trying to make life shit for us that we can’t afford to miss it when what could make us happy is right in front of us.”
Murdock really wished he hadn’t thrown that key away. He had no idea what was going on.
“Crazy, do you have any idea how frustrating it is to see that what you need is right under your damn nose? I thought Face would handle it when I told him; he ain’t no stranger to... whatever the hell he wants to call it. Courtship, wooing, whatever...”
Did Bosco just say “wooing”? Murdock wanted some of that liquor for himself. He eyed BA’s pockets. Maybe he had a flask.
“Anyway, you seen how well that went down. It’s my fault he’s been acting like that. I ain’t saying he’s not interested! I just think I dumped it on him kinda sudden and he don’t know how to take it.”
Wait. Was Bosco...? All that stuff about the Army and being normal. Was this...? Oh.
Oh.
Oh.
Oh fuck.
“Bosco,” Murdock wavered, lock be damned. BA cut him off.
“Face is a good guy, Murdock,” the larger man continued stoically. The crackles and static were back. “He, shit, he loves you man. He really, really does.”
Please stop, Bosco. Murdock didn’t want to break BA’s rules, but he didn’t think he could get through this on his own. He needed Lord Nigel or Billy, or even just a random fact about silkworms to lighten the mood. He didn’t want to talk about this or listen to it. Dr Ralph was trying to pull him away and distract him, but he’d promised BA he’d stay. Hadn’t he? He couldn’t remember. He’d meant to though. Murdock clenched his hands into fists and tried to focus on the bite of his nails into his palm (they needed cutting) and the feel of Bosco’s hand still on his shoulder (heavy). Don’t go away. Stay here. It sucks but it will be over soon. Just stay here for a little longer.
“You okay, Crazy?” BA was frowning at him. “I didn’t mean to- shit.” He rubbed his face, letting go of Murdock’s shoulder. “I ain’t good at this. Look. Just talk to Face, okay, man? Hate seein’ you two like this.”
Talk to Face. Sure. That was usually fun. Right now the thought of it made Murdock feel like he’d been dunked in ice water and he was pretty sure he was shaking from the imaginary cold, but he could talk to Face. No problem.
“Anyway. I’m gonna stop puttin’ my foot in my mouth.” BA stood up, causing the bed to bounce slightly. Murdock’s stomach lurched. “You sure you’re okay?”
Okay cheek muscles, it’s your time to shine. Murdock pulled his lips back from his teeth in what was hopefully an upward direction. “Right as rain, Bosco!”
With one last unsteady look, BA weaved out the door, closing it slightly too loudly behind him. As soon as he was gone, Murdock pitched forward and wrapped his arms around his midsection.
Oh god. Oh. Ohhhh…
He didn’t know why it hurt this bad. He wasn’t… He never… He and Face weren’t…
But this. Face and BA. He just couldn’t. Thinking about it made him feel like his chest was swelling up, inflating bigger and bigger to cover his mouth and nose until he couldn’t breathe. Murdock’s throat spasmed and he wasn’t sure if it was trying to sob or throw up.
Of course Face wouldn’t end up with… Of course he would… Of course. And Face still loved him, BA said. That was nice. In a stabby, horrible kind of way, that was nice. Bosco had meant to be nice.
Murdock didn’t know why this was bothering him and his ability to breathe so much. He’d never, he and Face. They were friends. That’s all he’d ever. But obviously not, because this. Ohh. This. This hurt so much.
He couldn’t lose Face though. He couldn’t let the conman think that he’d reacted badly, not badly in a way that would hurt anyone but Murdock. He wanted his friends to be happy, he really really did. He’d be happy for them, once this selfish nausea went away.
Just a few more minutes. He’d give himself a few more minutes to… what? Grieve? That was stupid. This whole thing was stupid. Murdock wanted a do-over. He’d talk to Face. He just needed a few more minutes.
The knock at the door had Face calling, “Come in,” before he registered what he was doing. Damn it. He just wanted to be alone with his thoughts that were determinedly not focussed on BA, Murdock or anything to do with That Talk. Now there was a two out of three chance that one of the people he wasn’t thinking about was going to come into his-
“Hey, Face.” Yep, 66-percent chance of Murdock.
Face paused in mid-sigh. Murdock looked awful. His skin was blotchy and his eyes were red. Face felt a familiar wave of concern and protectiveness that was, for the first time, tinged with guilt. Had Murdock been having a rough patch that he’d been too wrapped up in his own issues to notice? Maybe he’d even caused it...
Face kicked himself. Of course he’d caused it. Murdock would take Face’s behaviour as a rejection, as evidence that Face wasn’t handling BA’s revelation well. Ah fuck. Face had really ballsed this up.
“Hey, buddy,” he greeted, determined to make things right. “Come in.”
“Uhm.” Murdock’s gaze flitted around the room as he closed the door behind him. “Can I sit down?”
Face scooted over to make room on his immaculately-made bed. Murdock sat, shoulders tense, leaving a good foot and a half between them. He scratched the back of his neck and didn’t speak.
“Hey.” Face gestured to Murdock, indicating his dishevelled state. “Is that because of me?”
Murdock shook his head emphatically. “No! No. No…” He glanced at Face and sighed. “Kinda, yeah. Not your fault though.”
Face ran a hand through his hair. He wanted to lean forward and touch Murdock on the arm, reassure him and ground him, but he didn’t know how that would be received right now. Time to bite the bullet. Two weeks of Face’s wallowing was clearly affecting Murdock in a bad way. The guy should be enjoying his new relationship (Face clenched his teeth), not worrying himself to tears over Face’s reaction.
“Yeah, it is my fault, Murdock.” The pilot opened his mouth to protest but Face ploughed on. “I’ve been an ass. I should have just talked to you. I mean, you’re my best friend, right?”
Murdock shrugged, looking at a spot on the wall between Face’s wardrobe and trash can. “Well, you won’t wear the friendship bracelet.”
“That’s not about the sentiment, that’s about the glitter.” Face ducked his head into Murdock’s line of sight. “I wear it on the inside though.”
Murdock snorted at the corny line like Face knew he would. “’Course you do.”
Face edged a bit closer, careful to still give Murdock his personal space. “I’ve sorry I’ve been a dick.” He clamped down on his inconvenient, flailing emotions. He’d deal with those later. “I love you man, you know that right? I want everything good in the world for you.” Later. Later later later.
It seemed to be the wrong thing to say though. To Face’s dismay, Murdock hunched over further, breathing heavily. Without thinking, the blond reached forward and wrapped an arm around him. He’d seen Murdock through many a panic attack - it was instinctive by now.
“Hey. Hey.” Face’s voice was soft as he pulled Murdock to him. “It’s okay. Shh.” His free hand stroked through Murdock’s messy hair. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It’s okay.”
Murdock was shaking but pulling back. “No, no,” he stuttered, trying to wriggle out of Face’s embrace. “I’m fine. Please don’t…”
Face tightened his grip around Murdock’s shoulders to prevent him from fleeing. His friend tried to twist away. “Murdock, what’s wrong? What did I say? Please let me help.” Face felt like he was calming a spooked animal. He could feel Murdock’s muscles quivering under his touch. “Please stay. Talk to me.”
Murdock let out a shuddering breath that was almost a moan. It hurt Face to hear. “I’m sorry, Face.”
“It’s okay.” Face held Murdock firmly but tenderly. The pilot was shaking and hot, like he had a fever. “It’s okay. Shh.” He stroked Murdock’s hair again. It smelled like fresh sweat and cheap shampoo. It tickled his nose as Face pressed a kiss to the top of Murdock’s head.
Murdock twitched and fisted his hands in the back of Face’s shirt. Face’s hand slipped down to the back of his friend’s neck, fingers gently carding through the wispy hairs there. His thumb stroked behind Murdock’s ear. His breath blew softly on his cheek.
Face’s chest felt tight. He moved his head so he was leaning against Murdock, forehead to forehead. He closed his eyes. He couldn’t do this anymore.
With his eyes closed, Face’s control slipped. His body tugged on the leash and his lips fell onto soft skin. He didn’t know if it was Murdock’s cheek or temple but it didn’t matter. He couldn’t do this.
He couldn’t stop.
Murdock barely had time for a startled intake of breath before Face’s lips were on his. The blond wasted no time with tenderness and etiquette. In direct contrast to the gentleness of his hands, Face’s kiss was bruising and crude. He forced Murdock’s mouth open, sucking his tongue, biting at Murdock’s lips, breathing heavily through his nose as he continued the kiss for longer than either of their lungs could take.
Face couldn’t tell if his body was singing or screaming.
At some point, he realised that the resistance changed. Initially, Murdock pushed away half-heartedly even as his mouth yielded to Face’s assault. Now, he was fighting Face for dominance.
The pilot raked his hands down Face’s back, simultaneously pulling him closer and pushing forwards with his kiss in an effort to lower Face to the mattress. Well. Face wasn’t about to go down without a fight.
The blond gave back as good as he got, putting an almost painful amount of pressure on their lips. He ran a hand down Murdock’s chest, barely able to fit it between them as they pulled each other closer. With a sound that was nearly a snarl, Face pulled away and attacked Murdock’s neck instead, raking his teeth over the pale skin in a very base display of dominance. Not to be outdone, Murdock wriggled his hand up Face’s shirt and scraped his nail over a nipple. Face moaned and his lapse of concentration was all it took for Murdock to gain the advantage and slam his friend backwards onto the bed.
Face scooted back automatically, pulling his feet up onto the mattress as Murdock loomed over him. They broke contact for the first time since the kiss began and the echo of their guttural sounds rang in their ears. They froze, panting, Murdock kneeling between Face’s spread legs. They looked at each other.
Maintaining deliberate eye contact, Murdock leaned forward and slowly, roughly, ground his crotch into Face’s. The blond’s eyes rolled back in his head. “Oh god,” he groaned, sounding embarrassingly wanton to his own ears. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so aroused. He felt like a teenager, body throbbing and desperate for friction.
There was an unpleasantness to it though, that sat in the middle of his desire like a fat, ugly toad. He moaned again and it croaked in disapproval. Fucking toad.
With a loud, frustrated sound that was close to a roar, Face forced himself to pull away from Murdock. It wasn’t easy. The pilot had a relentless grip on his hips and Murdock always chose the most inopportune times to remind people that he was stronger than he looked.
“Murdock,” Face panted, hands on his friend’s thighs to (he insisted to himself) push away from the pilot. “We can’t do this. We have to stop. Fuck.”
Murdock’s lips were swollen and there were prominent bite marks on his neck. Face felt a fresh wave of arousal from his most primal, Alpha male core. The guilt toad croaked warningly. Okay, okay.
“I’m sorry, Face,” sighed Murdock huskily. His hold on Face’s hips tightened but he didn’t move against him again. He looked down at Face with warring expressions of lust and remorse. “I never. I didn’t know I wanted this.” Face closed his eyes as Murdock’s voice cracked. He could really, really relate. What fucking abominable timing. “I don’t want to wreck things for you.” Exactly. Trust Face to realise he had feelings for his best friend just when that best friend found someone el-
Wait.
What?
Face’s eyes flew open. “Wreck things for me?” he repeated, his own voice rough with emotion.
Murdock nodded, looking forlorn and it just wasn’t fair that he made sadness look so fucking sexy. “I love you, Facey, and Bosco too.” Face’s heart stopped. “I don’t want to come between you two. You deserve to be happy together.”
When his heart started beating again, it was with a thundering double-time that roared in Face’s ears. He could barely hear his own words above it as he told Murdock, “I’m not with BA.”
Murdock blinked. Then twitched. Then blinked again. He licked his lips. “You’re not?”
Face shook his head so emphatically that he nearly pitched them both off the bed. “No. NO! I thought you were.”
Murdock’s mouth fell open as if he’d been struck. (Mental note, thought Face, Strike Murdock one day. He’ll forgive you and god DAMN he looks hot.) “What?!” He sounded appalled and confused. “No! I love BA, but no! I’ve never even… But he said… What did he say to you?”
Face scrambled up, mirroring Murdock’s kneeling posture. He thought back. “He said… Well I thought he was saying that you two were together.”
“So did I!” They stared at each other, both trying to remember the exact wording that had led them to that conclusion.
“He was kind of waffling at first,” recalled Face. “He went on about how we shouldn’t let Army regs rule our lives, especially now.”
“Yes!” Murdock pointed at Face in excited agreement. “I didn’t know what he was talking about.”
“I know! It was like, ‘Um, so you want me to burn my patriotic George Bush underwear?’ What the fuck?”
"I know.” Murdock nodded. “Then he talked about happiness and how we all loved each other no matter what, and I thought he was Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell-ing me.”
“Seriously. He was on about the dynamic of the team…”
“He said you loved me…”
“Same! Well, you to me. I think. Something about how you’d always care, blah blah…”
“Yes! I thought he was saying that you’d still be my friend even though you two were together.”
“Oh my god, exactly!” Face paused. “What do you think he was trying to say?”
They both frowned in thought. Several seconds later, at nearly the exactly same moment, their eyes widened.
“Holy shit.”
They stared at each other for a long beat before simultaneously collapsing to the bed, howling with laughter.
BA scowled as he heard two sets of footsteps thump down the stairs and head towards the lounge room where he was TRYING to watch the game. Idiots never kept track of the sports seasons. Too many years in the Army or mental hospitals had made them forget about the important things in life. BA didn’t see why he should have to suffer because his teammates didn’t know the Superbowl from Wimbledon.
As soon as he looked at the doorway, he groaned. There was not enough bourbon in the world. “Aw man. Why? Why you gotta be like that? I don’t need to see that, man.”
Face and Murdock were flushed, clearly hastily dressed with unzipped jeans and shirts buttoned into the wrong holes. They were sweaty and their lips were swollen. Murdock had several prominent bite marks on his neck. No prizes for guessing what they’d been doing.
Undeterred by his reaction, they bounded over way too happily. BA raised his hands up in warning. They were NOT about to hug him, not covered in sweat and god knows what…
“You!” announced Murdock as he and Face stopped in front of BA (blocking the TV because they couldn’t be annoying by halves). “Are the worst matchmaker EVER.”
"Ever,” agreed Face. “Never try to do that again. Promise me.”
“Yeah, well.” BA shifted, uncomfortable with the attention. He’d wanted them to get a clue, but couldn’t they do it without ever talking to him about it or making him think about their weird, annoying love life? “Worked, didn’t it?”
Face and Murdock grinned giant grins at each other, then at BA. Darting in before he could react, Murdock pecked Bosco on the cheek.
"Yup!” he chirped as Face raped BA with a fist bump (bumping his hand without consent while BA was not actually making a fist). “Thanks, Bosco.”
Face was beaming too. Aw, dammit. They were so freaking contagious when they were like this. BA found himself smiling back against his will. “No problem.”
The two of them skipped off back upstairs like demented elves. BA watched them go, shaking his head.
He gave it one week before he’d have to toss them out the window, but it was worth it.