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sonora_conejaPairing: Face/BA
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: none
Summary: A fill for this prompt on the kink meme
Guys, you know what would be awesome?
Rank-based powerplay.
I don't care about who is involved - but if this ends up in bottom!BA I'll be forever gratefull- or when, or the 'verse. Just... Well, it would be great.
BA’s called into Hannibal’s office for a discipline session, Hannibal-style...
Come prepared.
That's what Hannibal had told him. Prepared. Service-As. No lip, not right now, not after the accidental explosion that had claimed the life of the base commander's official vehicle.
It had been an accident.
Still, Hannibal had promised swift and immediate discipline.
Shit, the corporal told himself. Again.
BA adjusted his tie one last time and knocked. Just once. A gruff "enter" was shouted out to him from the bossman's rarely used office. He tried not to wince as he walked in, straight line to that insanely large desk, reported in.
Hannibal didn't rise from his seat, easy, casual, deadly, silver hair slicked back, not a thread or decoration missing from an impeccable green service coat. Face, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, eyes hooded, looked just as intense.
"What do you have to say for yourself, Corporal?"
BA swallowed. God, this man was intimidating when he wanted to be. "It was my fault, completely, boss..."
Face leaned forward, coming over to sit on the desk right in front of Hannibal. "You're speaking to a superior officer, Baracus," he snapped, voice dead, sending shivers through the enlisted man. "Address him properly."
"Colonel Smith, I..." he began again, but the full-bird held up a hand, cutting him off.
"Not interested in your excuses, Corporal. You cost the United States government..." and then he launched. Burden on the taxpayers, disgrace to the uniform, personal disappointment, everything, until BA could literally feel himself sweating, and the extremely pissed colonel said, "Lieutenant Peck, being your immediate supervisor, is going to administer your punishment."
The lieutenant stood up, smooth and easy, every ounce of power in that lite body of his clearly on display, even through the thick wool of the uniform. He circled around back of BA, and it took all his control not to lash out instinctively against the impending ambush.
"Pants down," and there it was, a sensual hiss that ran right through him, pooling in his gut, lower, and his cock twitched.
Goddamn.
Fingers, fat and clumsy from haste, fumbled for his belt, and Lt Peck gave him all of three seconds before he heard a knife snick open and felt the canvas thing rip, those soft, strong hands forcing the uniform trousers off. He wasn't wearing underwear.
Hannibal hated waiting on that.
The colonel nodded approvingly, lighting up a cigar as he did so, and the lieutenant ran one of those hands across BA's exposed ass. Around one cheek, the other, sliding up between, right around... and the corporal gasped at the push of a single finger, making sure he'd already slicked up and stretched.
Gotten ready.
Wasn't the one order from his CO the corporal was willing to disobey.
The lieutenant and the colonel exchanged a look, full of meaning, the two of them doing that bullshit mind-reading thing with one another, and Ba heard the officers' pants hit the ground.
"So damn sweet," Peck purred in his ear, hands going for a bruising hold on dark hips, bending him over the desk, nearly flat. A cock nudged instantly, right there, so close. "Spreading for me, following orders...so goddamn hard and ready..."
BA bit back his protest, and then his cry, as the lieutenant slammed home in one brutal thrust. Out. Back in.
Harder, faster, every time.
He couldn't hold it in long, not once the angle changed and the lieutenant caught his prostate, sparks flying, his own erection trapped underneath, the gasps and moans, the sheer, wonderful Shane of it all too much to contain. Laid out, vulnerable, no option but to take it, the calm blue eyes on the other end of the desk, utterly at ease, perfectly aroused...
It was over far too quickly, his own release hard and hot, everywhere, whiting the world to nothing but that man in front of him, the man behind him shuddering, rooted and flooding into him...
BA rolled over once the lieutenant pulled out, shaky and sticky, not caring about any of it. Face leaned over him, looking deliciously fucked out, panting hard, and planted one light kiss on the big black man's slack mouth.
"You good there, buddy?" he asked softly, tracing a line of sweat down BA's cheek.
"Only time you get'ta top me, prettyboy," he managed, and Hannibal started laughing. They both looked up.
The boss had bitten clean through his cigar. "Face," he said, extinguishing the thing and fishing another from his desk, "your turn, kid. Get Murdock in here. Now."
BA smiled and dropped off onto the couch against the wall, not even bothering to pull his trousers back up, cock already stirring again in anticipation.
There were times he loved being the enlisted guy on the team.
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: none
Summary: A fill for this prompt on the kink meme
Guys, you know what would be awesome?
Rank-based powerplay.
I don't care about who is involved - but if this ends up in bottom!BA I'll be forever gratefull- or when, or the 'verse. Just... Well, it would be great.
BA’s called into Hannibal’s office for a discipline session, Hannibal-style...
Come prepared.
That's what Hannibal had told him. Prepared. Service-As. No lip, not right now, not after the accidental explosion that had claimed the life of the base commander's official vehicle.
It had been an accident.
Still, Hannibal had promised swift and immediate discipline.
Shit, the corporal told himself. Again.
BA adjusted his tie one last time and knocked. Just once. A gruff "enter" was shouted out to him from the bossman's rarely used office. He tried not to wince as he walked in, straight line to that insanely large desk, reported in.
Hannibal didn't rise from his seat, easy, casual, deadly, silver hair slicked back, not a thread or decoration missing from an impeccable green service coat. Face, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, eyes hooded, looked just as intense.
"What do you have to say for yourself, Corporal?"
BA swallowed. God, this man was intimidating when he wanted to be. "It was my fault, completely, boss..."
Face leaned forward, coming over to sit on the desk right in front of Hannibal. "You're speaking to a superior officer, Baracus," he snapped, voice dead, sending shivers through the enlisted man. "Address him properly."
"Colonel Smith, I..." he began again, but the full-bird held up a hand, cutting him off.
"Not interested in your excuses, Corporal. You cost the United States government..." and then he launched. Burden on the taxpayers, disgrace to the uniform, personal disappointment, everything, until BA could literally feel himself sweating, and the extremely pissed colonel said, "Lieutenant Peck, being your immediate supervisor, is going to administer your punishment."
The lieutenant stood up, smooth and easy, every ounce of power in that lite body of his clearly on display, even through the thick wool of the uniform. He circled around back of BA, and it took all his control not to lash out instinctively against the impending ambush.
"Pants down," and there it was, a sensual hiss that ran right through him, pooling in his gut, lower, and his cock twitched.
Goddamn.
Fingers, fat and clumsy from haste, fumbled for his belt, and Lt Peck gave him all of three seconds before he heard a knife snick open and felt the canvas thing rip, those soft, strong hands forcing the uniform trousers off. He wasn't wearing underwear.
Hannibal hated waiting on that.
The colonel nodded approvingly, lighting up a cigar as he did so, and the lieutenant ran one of those hands across BA's exposed ass. Around one cheek, the other, sliding up between, right around... and the corporal gasped at the push of a single finger, making sure he'd already slicked up and stretched.
Gotten ready.
Wasn't the one order from his CO the corporal was willing to disobey.
The lieutenant and the colonel exchanged a look, full of meaning, the two of them doing that bullshit mind-reading thing with one another, and Ba heard the officers' pants hit the ground.
"So damn sweet," Peck purred in his ear, hands going for a bruising hold on dark hips, bending him over the desk, nearly flat. A cock nudged instantly, right there, so close. "Spreading for me, following orders...so goddamn hard and ready..."
BA bit back his protest, and then his cry, as the lieutenant slammed home in one brutal thrust. Out. Back in.
Harder, faster, every time.
He couldn't hold it in long, not once the angle changed and the lieutenant caught his prostate, sparks flying, his own erection trapped underneath, the gasps and moans, the sheer, wonderful Shane of it all too much to contain. Laid out, vulnerable, no option but to take it, the calm blue eyes on the other end of the desk, utterly at ease, perfectly aroused...
It was over far too quickly, his own release hard and hot, everywhere, whiting the world to nothing but that man in front of him, the man behind him shuddering, rooted and flooding into him...
BA rolled over once the lieutenant pulled out, shaky and sticky, not caring about any of it. Face leaned over him, looking deliciously fucked out, panting hard, and planted one light kiss on the big black man's slack mouth.
"You good there, buddy?" he asked softly, tracing a line of sweat down BA's cheek.
"Only time you get'ta top me, prettyboy," he managed, and Hannibal started laughing. They both looked up.
The boss had bitten clean through his cigar. "Face," he said, extinguishing the thing and fishing another from his desk, "your turn, kid. Get Murdock in here. Now."
BA smiled and dropped off onto the couch against the wall, not even bothering to pull his trousers back up, cock already stirring again in anticipation.
There were times he loved being the enlisted guy on the team.
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no subject
Date: 2011-12-15 09:52 am (UTC)