Every Time We Touch, I'm Shooting the Stars
Title: Every Time We Touch, I’m Shooting the Stars
Fandom: A-Team
Pairing: Hannibal/Face
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3,533
Summary: Face is having issues coping, and Hannibal might just be able to help him.
Spoilers: The A-Team Movie.
Notes: Many thanks to caruso for the beta on this, especially since she's not involved in the fandom at all. That said...anyone want to volunteer for the next one? *snort* Also, I totally stole the title from the Kylie Minogue song "Cupid Boy". Seems to fit Face!
Hannibal stares out across the front yard of the abandoned farmhouse they’ve been staying at. Face is tanning in a lounge chair, the radio he found in the barn playing just loud enough that Hannibal can hear it from the front porch. To an outsider, Face looks happy and content. Only Hannibal knows him too well, has been around him for longer than they’d both like to admit. The past month has been...well, hell to say the least. The whole team is taking as well as to be expected, but they’re each breaking down in their own ways. BA hasn’t come out of the barn all morning, is cooling down by banging the dents out of old farm equipment that no one is coming back for. Murdock has always handled shit like this better than all of them, because he can just lose himself in his head when things get rough. And Hannibal? Hannibal fixes himself by fixing his team.
Which brings him back to Face. He hasn’t been handling this like he should be. If Face has problems, he buries them. Or more to the point, he goes and buries himself in a woman or two. He can’t lose himself in his own mind like Murdock can, but he specializes in losing himself in others. Only they’re been on this farm in the middle of Iowa for two days and Face hasn’t tried to head into town on his own. Hannibal’s about to order him to the local bar, tell him to fuck some girl in the bathroom and not to come back until he’s smiling that damn cocky grin of his again.
It’s infuriating it what it is.
Hannibal sighs and runs his hands over his face before reaching into his shirt pocket for the cigar he knows is there. He pats down his pockets, growling when he realises he left his lighter in the kitchen. He’s starts to slide off the porch swing, but suddenly there’s a flame flickering in front of him. He turns and sees Murdock grinning manically at him. Laughing, he leans forward and lights the cigar. He takes a long drag and then exhales slowly, closing his eyes as he savors it.
“Thanks,” he says, opening his eyes to look at Murdock again.
“Gotta keep myself useful somehow,” Murdock answers cheerfully. He closes the lighter with a flourish and then sits down on the swing. “Looks like Facey could use something to keep him busy, too.”
“Hell, he probably thinks tanning is as good for him as I think my cigars are for me. We’re both fine,” Hannibal says, even though he’s doubting himself the second the words leave his mouth. Lately Face has been, well, he’s been behaving. That would be fucking fantastic for any other soldier, but Face only behaves when he’s having a hard time dealing with something. A smartass comment is one of the most respectful things Hannibal can get out of him. The kid isn’t happy unless he’s pissing someone off, and for some reason Hannibal keeps on pretending that Face is able to get under his skin. It works well for both of them.
“No way, not fine. There’s trouble in this here Utopia...a bad wind coming and all that jazz,” Murdock rambles, frowning as he stares out across the lawn at Face.
“Face just needs to hit the town, find some girl and do what he does best,” Hannibal says, clapping a reassuring hand on Murdock’s shoulder.
“Now that’s a fine suggestion,” Murdock says, snorting before continuing, “Figured you’d notice the last girl Faceman came in contact with was Sosa, though.”
“That’s been years,” Hannibal says, carefully not letting the surprise show in his voice. “Seems to me like he still managed to sweet-talk whatever we needed out of the girls on base. I think you might finally be losing it,” Hannibal tells him, laughing softly.
“Women make up a very, very small percentage of base personnel. You have to look at this from another angle. Turn your head and forget what you’re used to. You have to compartmentalize, itemize, subtextualize!” Murdock tells him, hopping in his seat as he talks.
“So you’re trying to tell me that...” Hannibal trails off, not really wanting to put two and two together. Only Murdock’s excited and starts humming before interrupting him.
“Facey’s all out of sorts because he’s out of his element. Man’s a mermaid washed up on uncharted shores. Templeton Peck doesn’t know how to not get what he wants. Might take some getting used to, boss.” Murdock tells him, sighing loudly. “Time for you to play the role of the prince. Try not to get sidetracked by an octopus.” With that, Murdock salutes him and heads back into the farmhouse.
Hannibal takes another long drag off his cigar and tries not to think too hard.
That works for about ten seconds before his mind starts racing. He flips around every scene from the past couple of years, squinting into the horizon as things start to fall into place. Once he’s clued in, it’s hard to see how he missed it.
Face needs something that Hannibal’s not sure he can handle giving. It’s not that he hasn’t ever thought about it - because Christ, look at the kid - but thinking and doing are two completely different actions. But they’re on the run from the government and stuck on a farmhouse in the middle of fucking Iowa. It’s not like the consequences really matter as much as they used to.
Still, Hannibal’s pretty sure his team would turn on him if he ever broke Face. That thought alone is enough to make him hesitate. Good thing he doesn’t have to rush the plan.
--
They’ve all been working out, following their own individual routines even though it was no longer required of them. It’s as if everyone just knew they were going to get back into the swing of things eventually and wanted to be prepared for it. They couldn’t stay at the old farmhouse much longer, and Hannibal figured they’d keep moving west until they found a more permanent place. Another week ought to be safe, though. So he pushed the issue to the back of his mind and finished lacing up his sneakers before heading out to where Face was standing in the middle of the backyard.
Hannibal walks across the yard slowly, letting his eyes wander over the Face’s lithe form. He’s shirtless, the early morning sun highlighting his tanned skin. Hannibal was so good at ignoring this sudden rush of lust, but Murdock and his fucking rambling about Face’s needs and sexual leanings have thrown him. The past two days have been hellish, and Hannibal can’t imagine not acting on...whatever the hell is brewing between them. Besides, Face needs a clear head and sex has always been the best way to achieve that. However, there’s a proper time for everything, so Hannibal pushes those thoughts aside and clears his throat as he steps beside Face.
“You joining me today?” Face asks, not bothering to stop stretching or look at Hannibal as he speaks. This is good, considering Hannibal’s recently acquired habit of staring at Face’s ass whenever possible. He takes a deep breath and refocuses himself before starting to stretch.
“Figured nothing wakes me up better than a brisk morning run,” Hannibal says, smirking at him. Face nods, his eyes bright as he grins right back.
“Hopefully you can keep up with me, old man,” he says teasingly before taking off, leaving Hannibal to sprint to catch up to him. Face is laughing openly, offering Hannibal another grin at the same time as he slows his pace, finding a better pace to start them off. Hannibal falls in stride beside him, their bodies sliding into an easy rhythm.
Hannibal keeps his head forward, does his best to ignore the way Face’s chest is heaving as they run. He ignores the thin sheen of sweat that quickly covers Face’s skin; ignores the heavy breathing that lends itself towards pastimes that Hannibal is doing his best not to think about. Instead, he concentrates on not falling behind. Face’s old man quip wasn’t entirely out of place, apparently. He’s been cooped up for too long, and jail wasn’t exactly the best place for long runs. He can’t think of the last time he’s just ran for the hell of it instead of because he was being chased. He gets used to it though, even if his lungs are burning by the time they’ve circled the property twice.
Face reaches the house a few steps ahead of Hannibal and immediately collapses onto the front steps. He’s smiling widely and pats the step next to him. Hannibal falls into it, grunting as he leans against the railing. “Not bad,” Face tells him. “Tomorrow we go for three laps?” Hannibal groans, but finds himself nodding. He figures the two laps were around five or six miles, so what’s another few? He swipes an arm over his forehead, wiping at the sweat trailing down his face.
“Lemonade, muchachos?” Murdock says from behind them. Hannibal turns and holds out a hand, taking the glass and drinking greedily. Murdock sets a pitcher between them and hands a glass to Face.
“You’re a god among men, Murdock. A god among men,” Face tells him between gulps. Murdock winks at them and heads back inside, the screen door slamming loudly behind him. “He seems rather conspiratory lately, doesn’t he?” Face asks, gesturing towards the house.
“Haven’t noticed a thing,” Hannibal tells him, grinning before taking another sip. Face tilts his head to the side and studies him for a moment before shrugging and refilling their glasses.
Hannibal complains about wasted time later on, mostly for show, but he spends the rest of the morning lounging on the porch with Face.
--
BA keeps mostly to himself. He’s spent more time tinkering with the machinery out in the barn that with the rest of the team. Well, Hannibal has seen Murdock hanging around the barn, most likely annoying the hell out of BA. But Face has been busy tanning and staring into space and pretending he’s ok when he’s not. And Hannibal? Hannibal has been studying Face a lot more than he should be. He figures it’s time to start paying a little more attention to the rest of his team, so he wanders out to the half-dilapidated barn to find BA.
“We moving on yet, boss?” BA asks as soon as he sees Hannibal. Hannibal looks around the barn, not surprised to see that everything seems to have been repaired in the time they’re spent here. BA always does his best when he has something to keep his hands busy with, and clearly he’s poured himself into this latest project.
“Not yet. Next day or so, probably,” Hannibal tells him as he walks around the open space, running a hand over the dent-free side of a seeder. “You do realize that this farm is abandoned and these probably won’t be used any time soon, right?”
“Don’t mean they don’t appreciate being taken care of,” BA says, shooting Hannibal a look that says he clearly doesn’t get him. Hannibal nods and smiles when BA’s face relaxes and he goes back to toying with the wheel of one of the tractors.
“Looks like someone’s been straightening up in here, too,” Hannibal says casually, even though he’s pretty sure it’s his pilot’s doing. Kid can’t seem to keep things messy. It’s probably slight OCD or just plain craziness, but Murdock always needs things in their proper place.
“Yeah, Murdock’s been out here rambling about spring cleaning and spouting poetry at me at the same time. Fool’s off his rocker,” BA says, laughing as he looks up at Hannibal again.
“Perhaps he’s courting you?” Hannibal quips, winking at him.
“If he is...he ain’t the only one,” BA tells him, his voice suddenly serious.
Hannibal doesn’t get thrown off his game often, but clearly he’s been caught. He manages to keep his face straight and just gestures for BA to continue.
“You’re in charge, and I don’t like to question that. But...seems like sometimes you think you know what someone needs and not what they actually do. I will follow you and your damn plans into hell and back, but if you fuck up Face any more than he already is...I’m gonna do something we’ll both regret,” BA says, not breaking eye contact the entire speech. Hannibal nods sharply, and BA goes back to fixing the wheel.
Hannibal knows when he’s being dismissed.
He leaves the barn, spotting Face sprawled out on a blanket in the front yard and Murdock swinging on the swing on the front porch. He runs a hand over his hair and sighs. Why did his team have to get to fucking complicated? He’s pretty sure most Colonels never have to go through situations like this. But then again, Hannibal Smith is not like most Colonels and he’s not going to let one well-meaning threat keep him from following through with something one of his team members clearly needs. Grinning, he heads towards the porch in search of more of Murdock’s lemonade. That kid can really cook when he leaves out the secret ingredients and special sauces.
--
Hannibal crosses the yard, snorting to himself as he takes in the sight in front of him. Face has somehow gotten ahold of an inflatable kiddie pool. It’s a couple feet high and big enough for him to lay out with his head on one edge and his feet not touching the other. He’s stripped down to his boxers and splayed out, eyes closed as he soaks up the sun. Hannibal would mention the likelihood of skin cancer, but he’s too busy trying not to react to the way the sun is glinting off of his wet skin. He shivers and steps closer, clearing his throat to announce his presence.
“Where’s BA and Murdock take off to?” Face asks, opening his eyes and looking up at Hannibal.
“Town for supplies. We leave in the morning,” Hannibal says. He gestures at the kiddie pool before continuing, “Where in the hell did you find that thing?”
“Murdock found it up in the rafters of the barn,” Face says, grinning widely. “BA patched the hole in the bottom of it and I spent the morning filling it up. There’s more than enough room for another?” Face trails off, a faint blush crossing his cheeks. Hannibal can’t think of a reason not to strip down and climb into the pool, especially since he knows the others should be gone for another hour or so.
Face watches him undress, and Hannibal has to look away, fighting feelings of shyness he hasn’t had in years. When he’s down to his boxers, he steps over the side of the pool and sits cross-legged against the wall. The water’s warm, but still refreshing, and he splashes it over his thighs in an effort to cool down.
“Man, you have to lie down to do it right,” Face tells him, patting the water next to him. It splashes up, coating Face’s abs. Hannibal bites down on his lower lip and realizes this was possibly a bad idea. He moves to sit next to face, though, and then rests his head on the side of the pool before stretching out. “See?” Face asks him.
“This whole relaxing thing comes easier to some than to others,” Hannibal says, laughing deeply.
“Well that’s what you have me for, right?” Face asks. Hannibal looks at him and nods. He studies Face, noticing a look he’s not used to in his eyes. Before he can think about what he’s doing, Hannibal’s leaning forward. Face moves with him and they meet in the middle, mouths crashing together.
Hannibal licks into Face’s mouth, cupping the back of his neck and pulling him closer. face tastes like sugar and lemons and every sin Hannibal’s ever wanted to commit. He growls into the kiss and moves closer, pressing himself against Face. Face whines low his his throat and tangles his fingers in Hannibal’s hair, dragging him even closer.
Hannibal can’t handle this, his whole body is lit up from one simple kiss. He grunts when Face nibbles at him, teeth sinking into his lower lip before breaking the kiss. They stare at each other for a long moment before Face grins and pulls him into another kiss. His lips are softer than Hannibal imagined, pliant beneath his own. Their mouths move against each other, tongues and teeth and lips fighting for dominance before Hannibal wins out.
Face’s hand is suddenly on his hip, pulling at him with an air of desperation. Hannibal slides over, straddling Face and deepening the kiss at the same time. Face is clinging to him, his fingers digging into the curves of Hannibal’s hips. Hannibal thrusts down, groaning into the kiss as their boxer-clad cocks brush.
And then all of a sudden Face is shoving at their boxers, fighting with the wet fabric. Hannibal helps him, and somehow they manage to get their boxers around their thighs without breaking the kiss. He’s hungry for it, losing himself in Face’s mouth with a passion he can’t remember ever having. Face is just as needy, wrapping a leg around Hannibal’s waist and bucking up against him.
The first slide of Face’s dick against his own nearly kills him, Hannibal breaks the kiss and cries out, his eyes flying open at the touch. Face laughs, tilting his head to suck at the hollow of Hannibal’s throat. He scrapes his teeth over the soft skin there, and Hannibal loses it. His hips start thrusting on their own, his hands grasping for Face, needing to touch as much of his tanned skin as possible.
Face’s body is hot beneath his, and he’s arching up in the most delicious way. Hannibal skims his hands down Face’s sides and moves his hips faster. They’re lost in each other, water sloshing up around them as they move together.
Face’s wet skin is warmed by the sun, and he’s so much more than Hannibal has imagined. He runs a hand over Face’s flank, pulling him up. Face moans into the kiss, and Hannibal swallows it down as they rock together. He can’t believe Face is like this, all needy and so fucking hot for him. He’s in awe of Face’s body, his hands seeking out every inch of toned muscle. And Face just keens beneath him, every bit as lost in this as Hannibal is.
Then the side of the pool collapses behind Face, and they’re laughing into each other’s mouths as they fall backwards. Face grins up at him, his eyes wild and dark, and Hannibal can’t bring himself to stop moving. He cups the back of Face’s head, keeping it out of the muddy grass, and rocks his hips again. Face’s mouth parts, his lips ruddy and swollen, and he stares at Hannibal, the look sending a shiver down his spine.
Face clings to Hannibal, bucking his hips as Hannibal slams down against him. They’re both leaking pre-come, aiding in the slide of their cocks. Hannibal crushing their mouths together again, sucking on Face’s tongue as they move together. Face’s hands are everywhere, hot and rough as they map out Hannibal’s skin.
And then Face runs his fingers down Hannibal’s back, leaving a trail of marks on him. It’s enough to send Hannibal over the edge, and he pulls out of the kiss and comes with a grunt. He sinks his teeth into the side of Face’s neck, suddenly needing to mark him. He keeps thrusting against Face as he sucks on the bite mark. He props himself up on his elbows and studies the mark, tracing his fingers over it gently. Face looks up at him, panting and desperate. A couple more thrusts and he’s coming too, splashing between their bodies as he shouts Hannibal’s name.
Hannibal falls on top of him, his chest fighting for air as they lie there. The pool’s mostly empty by now, and he knows they’re both covered in mud and come and wet grass. He doesn’t care, though, because that was fucking incredible.
“Uh yeah...it was,” Face tells him, laughing as he runs his hands down Hannibal’s back, rubbing soothing circles over his spine. Hannibal wasn’t even aware he was talking out loud and laughs, burying his face against the side of Face’s neck. He laps out, tasting the salty skin there, grinning when Face shivers beneath him.
Hannibal knows they have to move soon - BA and Murdock should be back soon - but his limbs don’t seem to be functioning. So he lies there, most likely crushing Face, but the other man isn’t complaining. Hannibal’s not sure what they’re doing here, but he knows he gave Face what he needed. He’s pretty sure that giving into Face has never been this fun before.
Fandom: A-Team
Pairing: Hannibal/Face
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3,533
Summary: Face is having issues coping, and Hannibal might just be able to help him.
Spoilers: The A-Team Movie.
Notes: Many thanks to caruso for the beta on this, especially since she's not involved in the fandom at all. That said...anyone want to volunteer for the next one? *snort* Also, I totally stole the title from the Kylie Minogue song "Cupid Boy". Seems to fit Face!
Hannibal stares out across the front yard of the abandoned farmhouse they’ve been staying at. Face is tanning in a lounge chair, the radio he found in the barn playing just loud enough that Hannibal can hear it from the front porch. To an outsider, Face looks happy and content. Only Hannibal knows him too well, has been around him for longer than they’d both like to admit. The past month has been...well, hell to say the least. The whole team is taking as well as to be expected, but they’re each breaking down in their own ways. BA hasn’t come out of the barn all morning, is cooling down by banging the dents out of old farm equipment that no one is coming back for. Murdock has always handled shit like this better than all of them, because he can just lose himself in his head when things get rough. And Hannibal? Hannibal fixes himself by fixing his team.
Which brings him back to Face. He hasn’t been handling this like he should be. If Face has problems, he buries them. Or more to the point, he goes and buries himself in a woman or two. He can’t lose himself in his own mind like Murdock can, but he specializes in losing himself in others. Only they’re been on this farm in the middle of Iowa for two days and Face hasn’t tried to head into town on his own. Hannibal’s about to order him to the local bar, tell him to fuck some girl in the bathroom and not to come back until he’s smiling that damn cocky grin of his again.
It’s infuriating it what it is.
Hannibal sighs and runs his hands over his face before reaching into his shirt pocket for the cigar he knows is there. He pats down his pockets, growling when he realises he left his lighter in the kitchen. He’s starts to slide off the porch swing, but suddenly there’s a flame flickering in front of him. He turns and sees Murdock grinning manically at him. Laughing, he leans forward and lights the cigar. He takes a long drag and then exhales slowly, closing his eyes as he savors it.
“Thanks,” he says, opening his eyes to look at Murdock again.
“Gotta keep myself useful somehow,” Murdock answers cheerfully. He closes the lighter with a flourish and then sits down on the swing. “Looks like Facey could use something to keep him busy, too.”
“Hell, he probably thinks tanning is as good for him as I think my cigars are for me. We’re both fine,” Hannibal says, even though he’s doubting himself the second the words leave his mouth. Lately Face has been, well, he’s been behaving. That would be fucking fantastic for any other soldier, but Face only behaves when he’s having a hard time dealing with something. A smartass comment is one of the most respectful things Hannibal can get out of him. The kid isn’t happy unless he’s pissing someone off, and for some reason Hannibal keeps on pretending that Face is able to get under his skin. It works well for both of them.
“No way, not fine. There’s trouble in this here Utopia...a bad wind coming and all that jazz,” Murdock rambles, frowning as he stares out across the lawn at Face.
“Face just needs to hit the town, find some girl and do what he does best,” Hannibal says, clapping a reassuring hand on Murdock’s shoulder.
“Now that’s a fine suggestion,” Murdock says, snorting before continuing, “Figured you’d notice the last girl Faceman came in contact with was Sosa, though.”
“That’s been years,” Hannibal says, carefully not letting the surprise show in his voice. “Seems to me like he still managed to sweet-talk whatever we needed out of the girls on base. I think you might finally be losing it,” Hannibal tells him, laughing softly.
“Women make up a very, very small percentage of base personnel. You have to look at this from another angle. Turn your head and forget what you’re used to. You have to compartmentalize, itemize, subtextualize!” Murdock tells him, hopping in his seat as he talks.
“So you’re trying to tell me that...” Hannibal trails off, not really wanting to put two and two together. Only Murdock’s excited and starts humming before interrupting him.
“Facey’s all out of sorts because he’s out of his element. Man’s a mermaid washed up on uncharted shores. Templeton Peck doesn’t know how to not get what he wants. Might take some getting used to, boss.” Murdock tells him, sighing loudly. “Time for you to play the role of the prince. Try not to get sidetracked by an octopus.” With that, Murdock salutes him and heads back into the farmhouse.
Hannibal takes another long drag off his cigar and tries not to think too hard.
That works for about ten seconds before his mind starts racing. He flips around every scene from the past couple of years, squinting into the horizon as things start to fall into place. Once he’s clued in, it’s hard to see how he missed it.
Face needs something that Hannibal’s not sure he can handle giving. It’s not that he hasn’t ever thought about it - because Christ, look at the kid - but thinking and doing are two completely different actions. But they’re on the run from the government and stuck on a farmhouse in the middle of fucking Iowa. It’s not like the consequences really matter as much as they used to.
Still, Hannibal’s pretty sure his team would turn on him if he ever broke Face. That thought alone is enough to make him hesitate. Good thing he doesn’t have to rush the plan.
--
They’ve all been working out, following their own individual routines even though it was no longer required of them. It’s as if everyone just knew they were going to get back into the swing of things eventually and wanted to be prepared for it. They couldn’t stay at the old farmhouse much longer, and Hannibal figured they’d keep moving west until they found a more permanent place. Another week ought to be safe, though. So he pushed the issue to the back of his mind and finished lacing up his sneakers before heading out to where Face was standing in the middle of the backyard.
Hannibal walks across the yard slowly, letting his eyes wander over the Face’s lithe form. He’s shirtless, the early morning sun highlighting his tanned skin. Hannibal was so good at ignoring this sudden rush of lust, but Murdock and his fucking rambling about Face’s needs and sexual leanings have thrown him. The past two days have been hellish, and Hannibal can’t imagine not acting on...whatever the hell is brewing between them. Besides, Face needs a clear head and sex has always been the best way to achieve that. However, there’s a proper time for everything, so Hannibal pushes those thoughts aside and clears his throat as he steps beside Face.
“You joining me today?” Face asks, not bothering to stop stretching or look at Hannibal as he speaks. This is good, considering Hannibal’s recently acquired habit of staring at Face’s ass whenever possible. He takes a deep breath and refocuses himself before starting to stretch.
“Figured nothing wakes me up better than a brisk morning run,” Hannibal says, smirking at him. Face nods, his eyes bright as he grins right back.
“Hopefully you can keep up with me, old man,” he says teasingly before taking off, leaving Hannibal to sprint to catch up to him. Face is laughing openly, offering Hannibal another grin at the same time as he slows his pace, finding a better pace to start them off. Hannibal falls in stride beside him, their bodies sliding into an easy rhythm.
Hannibal keeps his head forward, does his best to ignore the way Face’s chest is heaving as they run. He ignores the thin sheen of sweat that quickly covers Face’s skin; ignores the heavy breathing that lends itself towards pastimes that Hannibal is doing his best not to think about. Instead, he concentrates on not falling behind. Face’s old man quip wasn’t entirely out of place, apparently. He’s been cooped up for too long, and jail wasn’t exactly the best place for long runs. He can’t think of the last time he’s just ran for the hell of it instead of because he was being chased. He gets used to it though, even if his lungs are burning by the time they’ve circled the property twice.
Face reaches the house a few steps ahead of Hannibal and immediately collapses onto the front steps. He’s smiling widely and pats the step next to him. Hannibal falls into it, grunting as he leans against the railing. “Not bad,” Face tells him. “Tomorrow we go for three laps?” Hannibal groans, but finds himself nodding. He figures the two laps were around five or six miles, so what’s another few? He swipes an arm over his forehead, wiping at the sweat trailing down his face.
“Lemonade, muchachos?” Murdock says from behind them. Hannibal turns and holds out a hand, taking the glass and drinking greedily. Murdock sets a pitcher between them and hands a glass to Face.
“You’re a god among men, Murdock. A god among men,” Face tells him between gulps. Murdock winks at them and heads back inside, the screen door slamming loudly behind him. “He seems rather conspiratory lately, doesn’t he?” Face asks, gesturing towards the house.
“Haven’t noticed a thing,” Hannibal tells him, grinning before taking another sip. Face tilts his head to the side and studies him for a moment before shrugging and refilling their glasses.
Hannibal complains about wasted time later on, mostly for show, but he spends the rest of the morning lounging on the porch with Face.
--
BA keeps mostly to himself. He’s spent more time tinkering with the machinery out in the barn that with the rest of the team. Well, Hannibal has seen Murdock hanging around the barn, most likely annoying the hell out of BA. But Face has been busy tanning and staring into space and pretending he’s ok when he’s not. And Hannibal? Hannibal has been studying Face a lot more than he should be. He figures it’s time to start paying a little more attention to the rest of his team, so he wanders out to the half-dilapidated barn to find BA.
“We moving on yet, boss?” BA asks as soon as he sees Hannibal. Hannibal looks around the barn, not surprised to see that everything seems to have been repaired in the time they’re spent here. BA always does his best when he has something to keep his hands busy with, and clearly he’s poured himself into this latest project.
“Not yet. Next day or so, probably,” Hannibal tells him as he walks around the open space, running a hand over the dent-free side of a seeder. “You do realize that this farm is abandoned and these probably won’t be used any time soon, right?”
“Don’t mean they don’t appreciate being taken care of,” BA says, shooting Hannibal a look that says he clearly doesn’t get him. Hannibal nods and smiles when BA’s face relaxes and he goes back to toying with the wheel of one of the tractors.
“Looks like someone’s been straightening up in here, too,” Hannibal says casually, even though he’s pretty sure it’s his pilot’s doing. Kid can’t seem to keep things messy. It’s probably slight OCD or just plain craziness, but Murdock always needs things in their proper place.
“Yeah, Murdock’s been out here rambling about spring cleaning and spouting poetry at me at the same time. Fool’s off his rocker,” BA says, laughing as he looks up at Hannibal again.
“Perhaps he’s courting you?” Hannibal quips, winking at him.
“If he is...he ain’t the only one,” BA tells him, his voice suddenly serious.
Hannibal doesn’t get thrown off his game often, but clearly he’s been caught. He manages to keep his face straight and just gestures for BA to continue.
“You’re in charge, and I don’t like to question that. But...seems like sometimes you think you know what someone needs and not what they actually do. I will follow you and your damn plans into hell and back, but if you fuck up Face any more than he already is...I’m gonna do something we’ll both regret,” BA says, not breaking eye contact the entire speech. Hannibal nods sharply, and BA goes back to fixing the wheel.
Hannibal knows when he’s being dismissed.
He leaves the barn, spotting Face sprawled out on a blanket in the front yard and Murdock swinging on the swing on the front porch. He runs a hand over his hair and sighs. Why did his team have to get to fucking complicated? He’s pretty sure most Colonels never have to go through situations like this. But then again, Hannibal Smith is not like most Colonels and he’s not going to let one well-meaning threat keep him from following through with something one of his team members clearly needs. Grinning, he heads towards the porch in search of more of Murdock’s lemonade. That kid can really cook when he leaves out the secret ingredients and special sauces.
--
Hannibal crosses the yard, snorting to himself as he takes in the sight in front of him. Face has somehow gotten ahold of an inflatable kiddie pool. It’s a couple feet high and big enough for him to lay out with his head on one edge and his feet not touching the other. He’s stripped down to his boxers and splayed out, eyes closed as he soaks up the sun. Hannibal would mention the likelihood of skin cancer, but he’s too busy trying not to react to the way the sun is glinting off of his wet skin. He shivers and steps closer, clearing his throat to announce his presence.
“Where’s BA and Murdock take off to?” Face asks, opening his eyes and looking up at Hannibal.
“Town for supplies. We leave in the morning,” Hannibal says. He gestures at the kiddie pool before continuing, “Where in the hell did you find that thing?”
“Murdock found it up in the rafters of the barn,” Face says, grinning widely. “BA patched the hole in the bottom of it and I spent the morning filling it up. There’s more than enough room for another?” Face trails off, a faint blush crossing his cheeks. Hannibal can’t think of a reason not to strip down and climb into the pool, especially since he knows the others should be gone for another hour or so.
Face watches him undress, and Hannibal has to look away, fighting feelings of shyness he hasn’t had in years. When he’s down to his boxers, he steps over the side of the pool and sits cross-legged against the wall. The water’s warm, but still refreshing, and he splashes it over his thighs in an effort to cool down.
“Man, you have to lie down to do it right,” Face tells him, patting the water next to him. It splashes up, coating Face’s abs. Hannibal bites down on his lower lip and realizes this was possibly a bad idea. He moves to sit next to face, though, and then rests his head on the side of the pool before stretching out. “See?” Face asks him.
“This whole relaxing thing comes easier to some than to others,” Hannibal says, laughing deeply.
“Well that’s what you have me for, right?” Face asks. Hannibal looks at him and nods. He studies Face, noticing a look he’s not used to in his eyes. Before he can think about what he’s doing, Hannibal’s leaning forward. Face moves with him and they meet in the middle, mouths crashing together.
Hannibal licks into Face’s mouth, cupping the back of his neck and pulling him closer. face tastes like sugar and lemons and every sin Hannibal’s ever wanted to commit. He growls into the kiss and moves closer, pressing himself against Face. Face whines low his his throat and tangles his fingers in Hannibal’s hair, dragging him even closer.
Hannibal can’t handle this, his whole body is lit up from one simple kiss. He grunts when Face nibbles at him, teeth sinking into his lower lip before breaking the kiss. They stare at each other for a long moment before Face grins and pulls him into another kiss. His lips are softer than Hannibal imagined, pliant beneath his own. Their mouths move against each other, tongues and teeth and lips fighting for dominance before Hannibal wins out.
Face’s hand is suddenly on his hip, pulling at him with an air of desperation. Hannibal slides over, straddling Face and deepening the kiss at the same time. Face is clinging to him, his fingers digging into the curves of Hannibal’s hips. Hannibal thrusts down, groaning into the kiss as their boxer-clad cocks brush.
And then all of a sudden Face is shoving at their boxers, fighting with the wet fabric. Hannibal helps him, and somehow they manage to get their boxers around their thighs without breaking the kiss. He’s hungry for it, losing himself in Face’s mouth with a passion he can’t remember ever having. Face is just as needy, wrapping a leg around Hannibal’s waist and bucking up against him.
The first slide of Face’s dick against his own nearly kills him, Hannibal breaks the kiss and cries out, his eyes flying open at the touch. Face laughs, tilting his head to suck at the hollow of Hannibal’s throat. He scrapes his teeth over the soft skin there, and Hannibal loses it. His hips start thrusting on their own, his hands grasping for Face, needing to touch as much of his tanned skin as possible.
Face’s body is hot beneath his, and he’s arching up in the most delicious way. Hannibal skims his hands down Face’s sides and moves his hips faster. They’re lost in each other, water sloshing up around them as they move together.
Face’s wet skin is warmed by the sun, and he’s so much more than Hannibal has imagined. He runs a hand over Face’s flank, pulling him up. Face moans into the kiss, and Hannibal swallows it down as they rock together. He can’t believe Face is like this, all needy and so fucking hot for him. He’s in awe of Face’s body, his hands seeking out every inch of toned muscle. And Face just keens beneath him, every bit as lost in this as Hannibal is.
Then the side of the pool collapses behind Face, and they’re laughing into each other’s mouths as they fall backwards. Face grins up at him, his eyes wild and dark, and Hannibal can’t bring himself to stop moving. He cups the back of Face’s head, keeping it out of the muddy grass, and rocks his hips again. Face’s mouth parts, his lips ruddy and swollen, and he stares at Hannibal, the look sending a shiver down his spine.
Face clings to Hannibal, bucking his hips as Hannibal slams down against him. They’re both leaking pre-come, aiding in the slide of their cocks. Hannibal crushing their mouths together again, sucking on Face’s tongue as they move together. Face’s hands are everywhere, hot and rough as they map out Hannibal’s skin.
And then Face runs his fingers down Hannibal’s back, leaving a trail of marks on him. It’s enough to send Hannibal over the edge, and he pulls out of the kiss and comes with a grunt. He sinks his teeth into the side of Face’s neck, suddenly needing to mark him. He keeps thrusting against Face as he sucks on the bite mark. He props himself up on his elbows and studies the mark, tracing his fingers over it gently. Face looks up at him, panting and desperate. A couple more thrusts and he’s coming too, splashing between their bodies as he shouts Hannibal’s name.
Hannibal falls on top of him, his chest fighting for air as they lie there. The pool’s mostly empty by now, and he knows they’re both covered in mud and come and wet grass. He doesn’t care, though, because that was fucking incredible.
“Uh yeah...it was,” Face tells him, laughing as he runs his hands down Hannibal’s back, rubbing soothing circles over his spine. Hannibal wasn’t even aware he was talking out loud and laughs, burying his face against the side of Face’s neck. He laps out, tasting the salty skin there, grinning when Face shivers beneath him.
Hannibal knows they have to move soon - BA and Murdock should be back soon - but his limbs don’t seem to be functioning. So he lies there, most likely crushing Face, but the other man isn’t complaining. Hannibal’s not sure what they’re doing here, but he knows he gave Face what he needed. He’s pretty sure that giving into Face has never been this fun before.