Check the Volume
Oct. 29th, 2010 08:38 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sonora_conejaPairing: Hannibal/Face
Rating: R
Warnings: hmm... orgasm denial?
Summary: Fill for this prompt over on the A Team Kink Meme.
(is really, really beet red)
Hannibal/Face.
Face is REALLY turned on by the brogue.
(i LIKE the brogue, okay? i will de-anon myself and admit to it once someone fills this... also, i was kinda inspired by one of the prompt fills that had Face being turned on by Hannibal saying Alpha Mike Foxtrot)
(slinks off to hide now)
Couldn’t resist this! Face rents a movie starring Liam Neeson. For Murdock, he insists. But, since Liam sounds exactly like Hannibal, problems arise.
Hannibal knew he shouldn’t have let Face take Murdock to the store.
In addition to a tub of ice cream and a box of cherry-flavored condoms, both definitely not on the shopping list, Murdock comes bounding into the rented house with a copy of the first Narnia movie.
Why, why does life have to be this cruel?
“Face, what were you thinking?” Hannibal groans as the conman hands Murdock a pair of scissors to cut the packaging on the DVD. The pilot’s really excited, terribly excited, that kind of excited he gets when Billy plays fetch indoors and lamps get broken.
Face grins, and Hannibal could punch him right about now. “Please, boss, it was like seven dollars.”
“For Narnia!” Murdock roars, and the plastic case pops open. Hannibal just puts his head down on the table.
“Face, we’ve had this discussion before,” Hannibal reminds him. “We can’t let him watch the first Star Wars movie anymore, Batman Begins... remember what happened with Darkman?”
“Hannibal, you don’t look anything like Liam Neeson,” Face says, patting his shoulder with mock sympathy. “And I can’t take the movie away from him now, you know how he gets.”
“You see how well this goes down when he starts calling me Aslan in front of our next client.” Face is chuckling to himself. “This isn’t funny, lieutenant!” And that just seems to make him laugh harder.
“Absolutely not, sir.” Face is nearly doubled over now with unsupressed mirth. “Remember when he, hee, thought you were Ducard, heehee, and set that gazebo on fire?”
Hannibal storms out of the room.
Doesn’t stop the boys from turning up the volume so high that he can hear the entire frikkin’ movie as if he was in the room. All the stupid magic sound effects, the battle music, Aslan’s voice roaring up over the top of it all.
Hannibal eventually breaks down and goes for a pair of earplugs. He’s sure he had some in his weapons kit. No luck there. He shoves the box back into his suitcase. Face has a pair of those noise-cancelling headphones, he remembers, and since the brat is off watching his movie, he doesn’t feel back about picking the doorlock and turning on the light in his room.
A feeling that’s immediately reversed he notices Face, on the bed, hand down pants.
For a second, it’s dreadfully obvious that neither man knows what to do.
Hannibal breaks first. Only fair. He’s the boss and he walked in on it, and why the hell is Face doing that right now anyway? He tries to pull his eyes away from the painful bulge in his lieutenant’s pants. “That witch pretty hot, Face?” he asks.
Face has the decency to look embarrassed. Really, really embarrassed. “Umm...” is all he manages.
“Go ahead and take care of that, el-tee, sorry to interrupt...” ad Hannibal decides the best thing to do is retreat. Tactically maneuver in a backwards direction. He turns around and dives for the door handle.
“It’s, er, not the witch, boss.” He hears Face slam himself back against the bed.
He doesn’t want to have this conversation. “Face, we all know you’ve got some weird kinks, but...”
“It’s Aslan.”
“Like I was saying, Face, weird.” Hannibal really wants out of the room now, but Face has somehow managed to get himself wedged between Hannibal and the door. He hadn’t bothered to zip up his pants. The colonel notices this. Face notices him noticing it.
“Yeah, it’s not, I’m not, that’s kind of messed up,” he stammers, and then falls back into that grin of his he uses when he doesn’t know what else to do. He runs a hand, the one that was just down his pants, through his hair. “I like the voice.”
“The voice?”
“Sounds like your voice, boss.”
There’s a moment.
“My voice?”
“A little more British, but it’s basically your voice. Sir.” He adds it at the end. Must be nervous.
“Basically your voice, sir,” Hannibal repeats, completely aware of how close he and Face are. Face’s back is to the door and his front is pressed against Hannibal’s leg. As a whim, and the kid deserves it for buying Murdock another Liam Neeson movie, he moves his thigh a little, demin producing friction producing a low, needy little noise. “So, you like my voice, then?”
“Yessir.”
“Close your eyes,” he orders, and there’s a certain amount of earnest excitement in the way Face screws his lids shut. It’s cute. “Stay there.”
Hannibal doesn’t have anything else available, so he shucks a pillow clean of its case and rips it down the seam.
“Boss?”
“Shut up, Face. I’m asking the questions.” Face makes another one of those noises that Hannibal’s cock seems so interested in. He ignores it, and wraps the makeshift blindfold around Face’s head, making sure he can’t peek as he ties it - Face is like a five-year-old after a pinata sometimes - and drags him over to the bed. He doesn’t touch anything but the man’s wrist. “Sit down, Face.”
Face obeys instantly.
Hannibal pushes Face all the way back, tugs his pants down to his knees. His boxers tent up. “What do you like about my voice?”
“It’s, oh god,” and Face moves to touch himself.
“None of that.” Hannibal straddles his legs and forces his hands overhead with one calloused palm. “Tell me, Face.”
A blush runs up the lieutenant’s neck. “I like it when you, shit, when you give me orders, and you get this kind of low growl going.”
“Like right now?” Hannibal asks, modulating his voice down, letting it rumble a little bit. “Like when I’m telling you you’re fucking up by the numbers?”
“Rough and thick and oh, just like that.” Face tries to arch up. Poor boy. That erection must be killing him.
“That must be very difficult for you, lieutenant,” Hannibal says sympathetically. “You’re in trouble a lot.”
“I know, boss.”
“You’re in trouble right now, buying Murdock those movies. It’s because you like ‘em, isn’t it?” he askes, letting one hand stray under the lieutenant’s t-shirt, and lightly pinches a nipple. Face’s hands ball into the bed cover. Face’s boxers look a bit wet, precum leaking out. “Isn’t it, Face?”
“Yessir.” It comes out in a single gasp.
Hannibal leans in close, smiling as he moves fully down the kid’s lithe body. Face is a quivering mass under him, begging for release. “You’ve caused me a significant problem, kid.”
He moans again.
“You keep that up, and I might be tempted,” Hannibal continues, sliding under the elastic of Face’s underwear, finding out that Face’s cock fits perfectly into his hand and stroking, “to do something naughty to you, lieutenant. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Me, buried in your sweet ass, whispering in your ear as you come?”
“Hannibal, Hannibal, please.” The kid’s tugging against the older man’s grip, but Hannibal doesn’t let him go, running his thumb along the tip of the captured erection in his hand. Face almost, almost, bucks him off. “Hannibal, christ, just...”
But Hannibal pushes off, still smiling. Face looks so good like this, sweat running out from under the blindfold, lips parted, hair mussed, legs fallen open. “You’re such a slut, Peck,” he chuckles.
“Anything for you, Hannibal, please...” He’s still stammering. That’s good.
“Not so fast. You still need to be punished for those movies. As long as Murdock’s got ‘em,” Hannibal tells him, looking for the headphones. The movie is still blaring down the hall. Ah, there, in Face’s messy backpack. “Stay there until I tell you to get up, lieutenant.”
Face makes a sound of protest, but doesn’t move as Hannibal cracks the door openly silently and beats a retreat from the room. He’s sure the rest of his evening is far more enjoyable than Face’s.
The next morning, over breakfast, he hears Murdock ask Face if he knows anything about where the DVD from last night went. Face turns beet red, chokes on his cereal, but doesn’t say a thing.
It’s a start.
Rating: R
Warnings: hmm... orgasm denial?
Summary: Fill for this prompt over on the A Team Kink Meme.
(is really, really beet red)
Hannibal/Face.
Face is REALLY turned on by the brogue.
(i LIKE the brogue, okay? i will de-anon myself and admit to it once someone fills this... also, i was kinda inspired by one of the prompt fills that had Face being turned on by Hannibal saying Alpha Mike Foxtrot)
(slinks off to hide now)
Couldn’t resist this! Face rents a movie starring Liam Neeson. For Murdock, he insists. But, since Liam sounds exactly like Hannibal, problems arise.
Hannibal knew he shouldn’t have let Face take Murdock to the store.
In addition to a tub of ice cream and a box of cherry-flavored condoms, both definitely not on the shopping list, Murdock comes bounding into the rented house with a copy of the first Narnia movie.
Why, why does life have to be this cruel?
“Face, what were you thinking?” Hannibal groans as the conman hands Murdock a pair of scissors to cut the packaging on the DVD. The pilot’s really excited, terribly excited, that kind of excited he gets when Billy plays fetch indoors and lamps get broken.
Face grins, and Hannibal could punch him right about now. “Please, boss, it was like seven dollars.”
“For Narnia!” Murdock roars, and the plastic case pops open. Hannibal just puts his head down on the table.
“Face, we’ve had this discussion before,” Hannibal reminds him. “We can’t let him watch the first Star Wars movie anymore, Batman Begins... remember what happened with Darkman?”
“Hannibal, you don’t look anything like Liam Neeson,” Face says, patting his shoulder with mock sympathy. “And I can’t take the movie away from him now, you know how he gets.”
“You see how well this goes down when he starts calling me Aslan in front of our next client.” Face is chuckling to himself. “This isn’t funny, lieutenant!” And that just seems to make him laugh harder.
“Absolutely not, sir.” Face is nearly doubled over now with unsupressed mirth. “Remember when he, hee, thought you were Ducard, heehee, and set that gazebo on fire?”
Hannibal storms out of the room.
Doesn’t stop the boys from turning up the volume so high that he can hear the entire frikkin’ movie as if he was in the room. All the stupid magic sound effects, the battle music, Aslan’s voice roaring up over the top of it all.
Hannibal eventually breaks down and goes for a pair of earplugs. He’s sure he had some in his weapons kit. No luck there. He shoves the box back into his suitcase. Face has a pair of those noise-cancelling headphones, he remembers, and since the brat is off watching his movie, he doesn’t feel back about picking the doorlock and turning on the light in his room.
A feeling that’s immediately reversed he notices Face, on the bed, hand down pants.
For a second, it’s dreadfully obvious that neither man knows what to do.
Hannibal breaks first. Only fair. He’s the boss and he walked in on it, and why the hell is Face doing that right now anyway? He tries to pull his eyes away from the painful bulge in his lieutenant’s pants. “That witch pretty hot, Face?” he asks.
Face has the decency to look embarrassed. Really, really embarrassed. “Umm...” is all he manages.
“Go ahead and take care of that, el-tee, sorry to interrupt...” ad Hannibal decides the best thing to do is retreat. Tactically maneuver in a backwards direction. He turns around and dives for the door handle.
“It’s, er, not the witch, boss.” He hears Face slam himself back against the bed.
He doesn’t want to have this conversation. “Face, we all know you’ve got some weird kinks, but...”
“It’s Aslan.”
“Like I was saying, Face, weird.” Hannibal really wants out of the room now, but Face has somehow managed to get himself wedged between Hannibal and the door. He hadn’t bothered to zip up his pants. The colonel notices this. Face notices him noticing it.
“Yeah, it’s not, I’m not, that’s kind of messed up,” he stammers, and then falls back into that grin of his he uses when he doesn’t know what else to do. He runs a hand, the one that was just down his pants, through his hair. “I like the voice.”
“The voice?”
“Sounds like your voice, boss.”
There’s a moment.
“My voice?”
“A little more British, but it’s basically your voice. Sir.” He adds it at the end. Must be nervous.
“Basically your voice, sir,” Hannibal repeats, completely aware of how close he and Face are. Face’s back is to the door and his front is pressed against Hannibal’s leg. As a whim, and the kid deserves it for buying Murdock another Liam Neeson movie, he moves his thigh a little, demin producing friction producing a low, needy little noise. “So, you like my voice, then?”
“Yessir.”
“Close your eyes,” he orders, and there’s a certain amount of earnest excitement in the way Face screws his lids shut. It’s cute. “Stay there.”
Hannibal doesn’t have anything else available, so he shucks a pillow clean of its case and rips it down the seam.
“Boss?”
“Shut up, Face. I’m asking the questions.” Face makes another one of those noises that Hannibal’s cock seems so interested in. He ignores it, and wraps the makeshift blindfold around Face’s head, making sure he can’t peek as he ties it - Face is like a five-year-old after a pinata sometimes - and drags him over to the bed. He doesn’t touch anything but the man’s wrist. “Sit down, Face.”
Face obeys instantly.
Hannibal pushes Face all the way back, tugs his pants down to his knees. His boxers tent up. “What do you like about my voice?”
“It’s, oh god,” and Face moves to touch himself.
“None of that.” Hannibal straddles his legs and forces his hands overhead with one calloused palm. “Tell me, Face.”
A blush runs up the lieutenant’s neck. “I like it when you, shit, when you give me orders, and you get this kind of low growl going.”
“Like right now?” Hannibal asks, modulating his voice down, letting it rumble a little bit. “Like when I’m telling you you’re fucking up by the numbers?”
“Rough and thick and oh, just like that.” Face tries to arch up. Poor boy. That erection must be killing him.
“That must be very difficult for you, lieutenant,” Hannibal says sympathetically. “You’re in trouble a lot.”
“I know, boss.”
“You’re in trouble right now, buying Murdock those movies. It’s because you like ‘em, isn’t it?” he askes, letting one hand stray under the lieutenant’s t-shirt, and lightly pinches a nipple. Face’s hands ball into the bed cover. Face’s boxers look a bit wet, precum leaking out. “Isn’t it, Face?”
“Yessir.” It comes out in a single gasp.
Hannibal leans in close, smiling as he moves fully down the kid’s lithe body. Face is a quivering mass under him, begging for release. “You’ve caused me a significant problem, kid.”
He moans again.
“You keep that up, and I might be tempted,” Hannibal continues, sliding under the elastic of Face’s underwear, finding out that Face’s cock fits perfectly into his hand and stroking, “to do something naughty to you, lieutenant. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Me, buried in your sweet ass, whispering in your ear as you come?”
“Hannibal, Hannibal, please.” The kid’s tugging against the older man’s grip, but Hannibal doesn’t let him go, running his thumb along the tip of the captured erection in his hand. Face almost, almost, bucks him off. “Hannibal, christ, just...”
But Hannibal pushes off, still smiling. Face looks so good like this, sweat running out from under the blindfold, lips parted, hair mussed, legs fallen open. “You’re such a slut, Peck,” he chuckles.
“Anything for you, Hannibal, please...” He’s still stammering. That’s good.
“Not so fast. You still need to be punished for those movies. As long as Murdock’s got ‘em,” Hannibal tells him, looking for the headphones. The movie is still blaring down the hall. Ah, there, in Face’s messy backpack. “Stay there until I tell you to get up, lieutenant.”
Face makes a sound of protest, but doesn’t move as Hannibal cracks the door openly silently and beats a retreat from the room. He’s sure the rest of his evening is far more enjoyable than Face’s.
The next morning, over breakfast, he hears Murdock ask Face if he knows anything about where the DVD from last night went. Face turns beet red, chokes on his cereal, but doesn’t say a thing.
It’s a start.
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no subject
Date: 2011-02-20 09:12 pm (UTC)