The Straight to Happiness
Title: The Straight to Happiness
Author: Lady Lade
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Hannibal is very, very grateful that B.A. is knocked out for this. Murdock has been extra excited this morning, and it seems the child-like energy he usually has is infectious-at least in regards to Face.
Pairing: Slight Face/Murdock, but mostly the boys just being adorable as usual. (Is it weird that I see this as gen?)
Warnings: Boy!kissing, fluff
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to any of these characters; I am merely borrowing them for some fun and adventures.
A/N: I wrote this after I told my roommate, "The only straight thing about me is my straight jacket!" This was supposed to be crack, but somehow fluff took it over. Also, pick a verse! Any verse!
The Straight to Happiness
“I’m on the straight an’ narrow, baby!”
“Murdock, the only straight thing about you is your straight jacket.”
Hannibal is very, very grateful that B.A. is knocked out for this. Murdock has been extra excited this morning, and it seems the child-like energy he usually has is infectious-at least in regards to Face. They’ve been at it since Murdock took the yoke in his hands, teasing and bantering and calling each other the stupidest pet names they can think of, just to see who cracks first. (Face lost when Murdock called him his precious, perfect Aryan sweetheart. Hannibal is going to have to talk to Murdock about appropriateness, again.)
They’ve been rowdy in a way Hannibal hasn’t seen since the last time they decided to go drinking and, when sufficiently drunk, promptly decided to see who would get picked up most if they were prostitutes, and started stripping and arranging their clothing so they could ‘shake Daddy’s little money-maker on the corner.’ If B.A. was awake, the big guy would probably strangle them both one-handed. I ain’t wasting my time strangling those fools one-by-one, Hannibal, he can hear in his head, and Hannibal partially agrees with the assessment. He does not want to deal with this kind of insanity all day.
But Murdock is cracking up at the controls: head thrown back, eyes shut and crinkling around the corners, cheeks and lips extending upward in an open-mouth smile he can’t contain. Face is next to him in the co-pilot chair absolutely glowing with pride and happiness, laughing that quiet, deep laugh that only happens when he loves the joke, but wants to soak in the moment and in the happiness of his family. They look young; they look vibrant and content and carefree in the way Hannibal imagines they would have looked if the Army hadn’t betrayed them.
Jesus God, he thinks, they look absolutely beautiful. And they do-not just because of Face’s pretty-boy looks or the elegant arch of Murdock’s nape as he twists his head to grin at Face, but because they’re joyful. Hannibal can’t remember if he’s ever seen his boys look like this, and these are the moments that give Hannibal peace, because if this is what war and pain and death and a life as fugitives gives them-these small, glorious, gorgeous moments-then he can’t regret anything other than not having a camera at hand.
Maybe he should have woken B.A. up. The man would have been furious, but Hannibal’s sure the peaceful sight of Murdock and Face laughing would soften him right up. B.A. may act course and angry but the man loves their little family, and even B.A. would take comfort in this sight.
“Aw, Facey, don’t be mad you ain’t that man enough for me,” Murdock pats his shoulder consolingly, and this is when Hannibal quietly gets up to rummage around in Face’s bag, searching for the camera Face thinks no one knows about.
“Not man enough?!” Face is full of mock-outrage, all wide, hurt eyes and mouth gaping open, one hand over his heart.
Hannibal’s got the camera in hand, and he sits back to unobtrusively collect expression after expression, beauty equal in all of them. He’s always thought candid shots were the epitome of photography, and while the quality isn’t professional, Hannibal’s sure these photos will become some of his favorite pieces of artwork.
Murdock looks away to grin at the sky before them, and doesn’t see Face’s narrowing eyes. This is Face (Templeton) unrestrained and open, and Hannibal grins. Oh, this is gonna be good, if the calculation emulating from Face and the oblivion from Murdock are any indication.
It almost startles Hannibal when Face springs like the predator he is but hides so well under the smooth smiles, and absolutely lays one on Murdock, mouth open and fingers sliding under the baseball cap and into Murdock’s hair. Murdock’s left arm flails, his right clutching the yoke, and Hannibal has never been gladder that a plane’s on autopilot. Murdock’s expression is priceless: his eyes are wide, wide, and keep crossing to focus on Face; he’s so stunned that his mouth goes slack.
Hannibal snaps a shot of the scene, bites his lip to keep from chuckling, and with a grin Face goes in for the kill, swiping his tongue first across Murdock’s bottom lip, and then he’s really kissing the pilot.
And Murdock, Murdock just leans into Face and starts to laugh.
It’s the deep belly-laugh of before, but this time he’s curved forward; he switches the yoke to his left hand and clutches helplessly at Face’s neck with his right, laugh booming up through his chest and straight into Face’s mouth. Hannibal has a feeling he’ll use these pictures for the mother-of-all teasing and/or blackmail material, but right now the grin spreading across his lips is the same one Face is losing the fight to. They look even more radiant than before, not even kissing now, just pressing their lips together and laughing like they’ve got nothing else in life to do, like they’ve found exactly where they belong.
B.A. stirs next to him, and Hannibal watches out of the corner of his eye as B.A. frowns, and then his eyes shoot open. He starts to glare until he sees Face and Murdock giggling into each other, eyes tearing up and clutching at one another weakly. Hannibal slowly, carefully angles the camera to capture the B.A.’s soft smile, the man’s normally drawn and hard face smooth, open, affectionate.
“Was it good for you, snookums?” Face asks, leaning his forehead Murdock’s and chortling (almost snorting, and only Face can make that attractive).
Murdock smiles, all bright, clear eyes. “You made me swoon, you fuzzy, Old Spice hunk of lovin’.”
Face falls into his own chair, a heap of limbs and booming laughter and it sets Murdock off again. They’re laughing so hard that Murdock’s let go of the yoke and his arms are clutching feebly at his stomach, tears streaming down their cheeks and Hannibal is so going to use this as blackmail.
B.A. makes a sudden grunt next to him, and Hannibal curses and scrambles out of reach as the man’s face turns into panic, anger, and desperation.
“I’m on a plane! I’m on a plane!”
Author: Lady Lade
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Hannibal is very, very grateful that B.A. is knocked out for this. Murdock has been extra excited this morning, and it seems the child-like energy he usually has is infectious-at least in regards to Face.
Pairing: Slight Face/Murdock, but mostly the boys just being adorable as usual. (Is it weird that I see this as gen?)
Warnings: Boy!kissing, fluff
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to any of these characters; I am merely borrowing them for some fun and adventures.
A/N: I wrote this after I told my roommate, "The only straight thing about me is my straight jacket!" This was supposed to be crack, but somehow fluff took it over. Also, pick a verse! Any verse!
The Straight to Happiness
“I’m on the straight an’ narrow, baby!”
“Murdock, the only straight thing about you is your straight jacket.”
Hannibal is very, very grateful that B.A. is knocked out for this. Murdock has been extra excited this morning, and it seems the child-like energy he usually has is infectious-at least in regards to Face. They’ve been at it since Murdock took the yoke in his hands, teasing and bantering and calling each other the stupidest pet names they can think of, just to see who cracks first. (Face lost when Murdock called him his precious, perfect Aryan sweetheart. Hannibal is going to have to talk to Murdock about appropriateness, again.)
They’ve been rowdy in a way Hannibal hasn’t seen since the last time they decided to go drinking and, when sufficiently drunk, promptly decided to see who would get picked up most if they were prostitutes, and started stripping and arranging their clothing so they could ‘shake Daddy’s little money-maker on the corner.’ If B.A. was awake, the big guy would probably strangle them both one-handed. I ain’t wasting my time strangling those fools one-by-one, Hannibal, he can hear in his head, and Hannibal partially agrees with the assessment. He does not want to deal with this kind of insanity all day.
But Murdock is cracking up at the controls: head thrown back, eyes shut and crinkling around the corners, cheeks and lips extending upward in an open-mouth smile he can’t contain. Face is next to him in the co-pilot chair absolutely glowing with pride and happiness, laughing that quiet, deep laugh that only happens when he loves the joke, but wants to soak in the moment and in the happiness of his family. They look young; they look vibrant and content and carefree in the way Hannibal imagines they would have looked if the Army hadn’t betrayed them.
Jesus God, he thinks, they look absolutely beautiful. And they do-not just because of Face’s pretty-boy looks or the elegant arch of Murdock’s nape as he twists his head to grin at Face, but because they’re joyful. Hannibal can’t remember if he’s ever seen his boys look like this, and these are the moments that give Hannibal peace, because if this is what war and pain and death and a life as fugitives gives them-these small, glorious, gorgeous moments-then he can’t regret anything other than not having a camera at hand.
Maybe he should have woken B.A. up. The man would have been furious, but Hannibal’s sure the peaceful sight of Murdock and Face laughing would soften him right up. B.A. may act course and angry but the man loves their little family, and even B.A. would take comfort in this sight.
“Aw, Facey, don’t be mad you ain’t that man enough for me,” Murdock pats his shoulder consolingly, and this is when Hannibal quietly gets up to rummage around in Face’s bag, searching for the camera Face thinks no one knows about.
“Not man enough?!” Face is full of mock-outrage, all wide, hurt eyes and mouth gaping open, one hand over his heart.
Hannibal’s got the camera in hand, and he sits back to unobtrusively collect expression after expression, beauty equal in all of them. He’s always thought candid shots were the epitome of photography, and while the quality isn’t professional, Hannibal’s sure these photos will become some of his favorite pieces of artwork.
Murdock looks away to grin at the sky before them, and doesn’t see Face’s narrowing eyes. This is Face (Templeton) unrestrained and open, and Hannibal grins. Oh, this is gonna be good, if the calculation emulating from Face and the oblivion from Murdock are any indication.
It almost startles Hannibal when Face springs like the predator he is but hides so well under the smooth smiles, and absolutely lays one on Murdock, mouth open and fingers sliding under the baseball cap and into Murdock’s hair. Murdock’s left arm flails, his right clutching the yoke, and Hannibal has never been gladder that a plane’s on autopilot. Murdock’s expression is priceless: his eyes are wide, wide, and keep crossing to focus on Face; he’s so stunned that his mouth goes slack.
Hannibal snaps a shot of the scene, bites his lip to keep from chuckling, and with a grin Face goes in for the kill, swiping his tongue first across Murdock’s bottom lip, and then he’s really kissing the pilot.
And Murdock, Murdock just leans into Face and starts to laugh.
It’s the deep belly-laugh of before, but this time he’s curved forward; he switches the yoke to his left hand and clutches helplessly at Face’s neck with his right, laugh booming up through his chest and straight into Face’s mouth. Hannibal has a feeling he’ll use these pictures for the mother-of-all teasing and/or blackmail material, but right now the grin spreading across his lips is the same one Face is losing the fight to. They look even more radiant than before, not even kissing now, just pressing their lips together and laughing like they’ve got nothing else in life to do, like they’ve found exactly where they belong.
B.A. stirs next to him, and Hannibal watches out of the corner of his eye as B.A. frowns, and then his eyes shoot open. He starts to glare until he sees Face and Murdock giggling into each other, eyes tearing up and clutching at one another weakly. Hannibal slowly, carefully angles the camera to capture the B.A.’s soft smile, the man’s normally drawn and hard face smooth, open, affectionate.
“Was it good for you, snookums?” Face asks, leaning his forehead Murdock’s and chortling (almost snorting, and only Face can make that attractive).
Murdock smiles, all bright, clear eyes. “You made me swoon, you fuzzy, Old Spice hunk of lovin’.”
Face falls into his own chair, a heap of limbs and booming laughter and it sets Murdock off again. They’re laughing so hard that Murdock’s let go of the yoke and his arms are clutching feebly at his stomach, tears streaming down their cheeks and Hannibal is so going to use this as blackmail.
B.A. makes a sudden grunt next to him, and Hannibal curses and scrambles out of reach as the man’s face turns into panic, anger, and desperation.
“I’m on a plane! I’m on a plane!”