sonora_coneja (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sonora_coneja) wrote2011-01-15 03:01 pm
sonora_coneja) wrote2011-01-15 03:01 pm
Make This Work
Pairing: Murdock/Face
Rating: R
Warnings: none
Summary: A fill for this prompt on the kink meme.
So we've had the boys getting together and having a bit of a battle of the tops - how about the reverse? Face and Murdock get together, and then have an awkward moment while they hook up since they both bottom, almost exclusively. How they sort it out is up to anon.
Face always feels like he’s fucking things up. Including fucking.
Two weeks in, and halfway through tonight, Murdock stops him.
Just like that. Drags a hot, sweating palm up Face’s leg, knee to ass, digs the heel of his hand in and stops him. Face feels a tremor go through him at the insistent little gesture but keeps going, and Murdock clamps down harder.
So Face stops.
“What’s wrong, buddy?” he whispers, staring down at all that damp hair, stroking it back out of those wide blue eyes, staring up at his, staring right through him.
Fuck, does Murdock know?
“Nuthin’,” Murdock replies, almost shy.
Fuck. Murdock knows.
And athe suggestion murmurs loose in the back of the conman’s mind right now that this isn’t good, isn’t good for Murdock, that he isn’t good, that he’ll lose him. Like he lost his parents, Terry in college, Sosa last year.
Like he loses everyone.
It’s overwhelming, that feeling, and he has to ignore the sting in his eyes as they stare at one another, watching. Goddamn it, Face knows he’s not good at this. If he’s honest with himself, it’s not something he usually likes.
But what other choice did he have? That night, two weeks ago, the team back from one of Hannibal’s social obligations. The ones Murdock hates and Face dreads on his friend’s behalf. Drunk, pleasantly so, Murdock giggling about not wanting to go to bed yet and wouldn’t an action movie be good right now?
Movie nights are good nights. Movie nights are popcorn and touching and laughter and everything Face loves. Movie nights were always safe too. All of that, without having to ask for more, no matter how much he might want to.
But that night, the touching was a little more comprehensive and the laughter fading to meaningful pauses and then there they were. Popcorn buttering the carpet as Murdock turned his hands under Face’s shirt and pulled him down on top of him, spreading.
Begging.
His batshit, glorious, beautiful pilot. His man. That’s what he wanted.
Face has wanted Murdock pretty much since that flight, the one out of Mexico, and that’s where the misunderstanding must have started. Something intoxicating about the way the man handles aircraft, losing himself in the speed, in the moment, completely in control no matter how FUBAR the world is around him.
And Face just assumed that Murdock would, that Murdock would be...
Not the way it was at all, that night. Murdock under him, kissing him, biting his lip, wanting, no, needing to be taken. Not offering.
Not on top.
Face loves that, lives for that. Rare stolen times when he doesn’t have give, when he doesn’t have to be in charge, when he can relinquish control and wrap himself around somebody and feel that drilling heat straight through to his heart.
But the lieutenant needs Murdock more than that. More than anything else. Any other consideration.
Still, doesn’t mean he’s any good at this. He can’t even remember the last time he did this with a man before Murdock. Maybe never, and women are so different. Face is as good a conman as they come, but he can’t lie to Murdock, can’t hide anything from him.
He...he deserves better than that.
Better than him.
He braces himself and pushes back, slips out, rolls off to the side. Lifting his weight, sure, so he doesn’t just crush his friend. Pulling back, so it doesn’t hurt as much when it comes. The more space between them, the further this will have to travel. Maybe that will take some of the force out of it.
Make this easier.
But he can’t move.
The pilot won’t let him get far enough away, and shit. They’re still facing each other.
Murdock’s got that saneness about him right now, the skin he wears sometimes when he’s talking about his grandmother, or the proper way to make mac and cheese, or the stall speed of whatever POS airframe they’re in that day. The one that scares the shit out of Face. It surfaces from the depths like some kind of medieval sea monster. Sudden, silent, unpredictable...
Deadly.
And at worst possible times.
“You okay?” Murdock drawls softly, that hand still on Face’s ass, circling a little further back now. Close. Closer. So fucking close...the pilot definitely knows, and the lieutenant can feel his face burning with shame. “You okay, Temp?”
“I want you, HM,” Face breathes, ashamed at the little plea he hears there. “That’s what I want. You. Just you.”
“You got me,” and that hand is all the way back, fingers playing against his entrance, just pressing through the bite of muscle. “Any way you want me.”
“It won’t solve the problem.”
“What problem is that, Temp?” Murdock’s close to his ear, real close, tongue flicking out to lick over the rim, a soft kiss right behind. “Ain’t no problem to switch off.”
“But HM, aren’t you...”
Murdock cuts him off. “And you ain’t?”
“Mostly,” he admits, wishing he could just disappear.
“I want you too, Temp. Want all of you. I...I can, if you want.”
Face bites his lip, tries to think about what he wants to say, how he can put into words nearly six years of... “It’s not about what I...I guess... I want to give you...”
“How I feel exactly, darlin’. How this works. Surrenderin’ up to someone you love isn’t just about...” Murdock’s voice is like honey, the sweetest thing Face thinks he’s ever heard, and the pilot’s never looked more intense as he presses an easy kiss to the lieutenant’s lips. “You pickin’ up what I’m puttin’ down?”
There’s no stopping it, not at all, that stinging sensation now, and Face shakes his head, trying to not. Failing. “I’m sorry,” he says, everything heavy, and lets his head kind of fall forward, into Murdock’s chest. Slick skin, so warm. “I’m sorry it isn’t, I’m not...”
“Shh, ‘s’okay. ‘S’all okay, darlin’. You're perfect. Want you, right here...”
Face feels the world tremble, or maybe that’s just him, and fingertips graze the stubble along the back of his neck. Another kiss. That finger, in to the first knuckle. One more thought, like, maybe this could work...
“Roll over for me.”
And then he lets Murdock take over.
Rating: R
Warnings: none
Summary: A fill for this prompt on the kink meme.
So we've had the boys getting together and having a bit of a battle of the tops - how about the reverse? Face and Murdock get together, and then have an awkward moment while they hook up since they both bottom, almost exclusively. How they sort it out is up to anon.
Face always feels like he’s fucking things up. Including fucking.
Two weeks in, and halfway through tonight, Murdock stops him.
Just like that. Drags a hot, sweating palm up Face’s leg, knee to ass, digs the heel of his hand in and stops him. Face feels a tremor go through him at the insistent little gesture but keeps going, and Murdock clamps down harder.
So Face stops.
“What’s wrong, buddy?” he whispers, staring down at all that damp hair, stroking it back out of those wide blue eyes, staring up at his, staring right through him.
Fuck, does Murdock know?
“Nuthin’,” Murdock replies, almost shy.
Fuck. Murdock knows.
And athe suggestion murmurs loose in the back of the conman’s mind right now that this isn’t good, isn’t good for Murdock, that he isn’t good, that he’ll lose him. Like he lost his parents, Terry in college, Sosa last year.
Like he loses everyone.
It’s overwhelming, that feeling, and he has to ignore the sting in his eyes as they stare at one another, watching. Goddamn it, Face knows he’s not good at this. If he’s honest with himself, it’s not something he usually likes.
But what other choice did he have? That night, two weeks ago, the team back from one of Hannibal’s social obligations. The ones Murdock hates and Face dreads on his friend’s behalf. Drunk, pleasantly so, Murdock giggling about not wanting to go to bed yet and wouldn’t an action movie be good right now?
Movie nights are good nights. Movie nights are popcorn and touching and laughter and everything Face loves. Movie nights were always safe too. All of that, without having to ask for more, no matter how much he might want to.
But that night, the touching was a little more comprehensive and the laughter fading to meaningful pauses and then there they were. Popcorn buttering the carpet as Murdock turned his hands under Face’s shirt and pulled him down on top of him, spreading.
Begging.
His batshit, glorious, beautiful pilot. His man. That’s what he wanted.
Face has wanted Murdock pretty much since that flight, the one out of Mexico, and that’s where the misunderstanding must have started. Something intoxicating about the way the man handles aircraft, losing himself in the speed, in the moment, completely in control no matter how FUBAR the world is around him.
And Face just assumed that Murdock would, that Murdock would be...
Not the way it was at all, that night. Murdock under him, kissing him, biting his lip, wanting, no, needing to be taken. Not offering.
Not on top.
Face loves that, lives for that. Rare stolen times when he doesn’t have give, when he doesn’t have to be in charge, when he can relinquish control and wrap himself around somebody and feel that drilling heat straight through to his heart.
But the lieutenant needs Murdock more than that. More than anything else. Any other consideration.
Still, doesn’t mean he’s any good at this. He can’t even remember the last time he did this with a man before Murdock. Maybe never, and women are so different. Face is as good a conman as they come, but he can’t lie to Murdock, can’t hide anything from him.
He...he deserves better than that.
Better than him.
He braces himself and pushes back, slips out, rolls off to the side. Lifting his weight, sure, so he doesn’t just crush his friend. Pulling back, so it doesn’t hurt as much when it comes. The more space between them, the further this will have to travel. Maybe that will take some of the force out of it.
Make this easier.
But he can’t move.
The pilot won’t let him get far enough away, and shit. They’re still facing each other.
Murdock’s got that saneness about him right now, the skin he wears sometimes when he’s talking about his grandmother, or the proper way to make mac and cheese, or the stall speed of whatever POS airframe they’re in that day. The one that scares the shit out of Face. It surfaces from the depths like some kind of medieval sea monster. Sudden, silent, unpredictable...
Deadly.
And at worst possible times.
“You okay?” Murdock drawls softly, that hand still on Face’s ass, circling a little further back now. Close. Closer. So fucking close...the pilot definitely knows, and the lieutenant can feel his face burning with shame. “You okay, Temp?”
“I want you, HM,” Face breathes, ashamed at the little plea he hears there. “That’s what I want. You. Just you.”
“You got me,” and that hand is all the way back, fingers playing against his entrance, just pressing through the bite of muscle. “Any way you want me.”
“It won’t solve the problem.”
“What problem is that, Temp?” Murdock’s close to his ear, real close, tongue flicking out to lick over the rim, a soft kiss right behind. “Ain’t no problem to switch off.”
“But HM, aren’t you...”
Murdock cuts him off. “And you ain’t?”
“Mostly,” he admits, wishing he could just disappear.
“I want you too, Temp. Want all of you. I...I can, if you want.”
Face bites his lip, tries to think about what he wants to say, how he can put into words nearly six years of... “It’s not about what I...I guess... I want to give you...”
“How I feel exactly, darlin’. How this works. Surrenderin’ up to someone you love isn’t just about...” Murdock’s voice is like honey, the sweetest thing Face thinks he’s ever heard, and the pilot’s never looked more intense as he presses an easy kiss to the lieutenant’s lips. “You pickin’ up what I’m puttin’ down?”
There’s no stopping it, not at all, that stinging sensation now, and Face shakes his head, trying to not. Failing. “I’m sorry,” he says, everything heavy, and lets his head kind of fall forward, into Murdock’s chest. Slick skin, so warm. “I’m sorry it isn’t, I’m not...”
“Shh, ‘s’okay. ‘S’all okay, darlin’. You're perfect. Want you, right here...”
Face feels the world tremble, or maybe that’s just him, and fingertips graze the stubble along the back of his neck. Another kiss. That finger, in to the first knuckle. One more thought, like, maybe this could work...
“Roll over for me.”
And then he lets Murdock take over.
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