Too Far Gone - Part Two of Three
May. 24th, 2011 07:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sonora_conejaPairing: Hannibal/Face/Murdock
Rating: R
Warnings: angst! And fighting!
Summary: Part two of three for a fill for this prompt over at the kink meme
I recently wrote a tonne of Hannibal angst, and for some reason I need more. Hm.
So heres the idea.
Face and Murdock are together. Lovelorn!Hannibal has been dying to get in on that action but they've not really shown any sign of wanting him. But then, April 1st, they start showing interest. Touching him more than usual, making shrewd comments, driving him insane.
Then bang. April Fool's Boss! C'mon you didn't really think we were serious.................did you?
Ofc he did.
I'll also be happy with this prompt if it's H/F with outside Murdock, but my brain is telling me Boss wouldn't play a nasty prank on his unstable pilot like that. idek.
Hannibal thinks he might have a chance with his boys. But they’re just playing a joke...right?
Face looks down at the empty bed, his own quilt folded up neatly on the end that he’s claimed as he. And he knows. He can’t sleep right now.
He just can’t.
It’s nearly midnight, he and BA just got off running a scam on some teenage punks, finally got the kiddies to take the bait on a supposed better line of heroin, he’s exhausted, but there it is. Empty bed. No Murdock. And definitely no Hannibal.
Even if Hannibal were here, though, he doubts he’d be able to sleep. It’s been unbearable, the past five or six days, this close to all that man, and he remembers that fucking Artic op from a few years back, the whole sleeping bag thing, where he got to curl around the boss’ back and hug into him, just like he’s always wanted...
But Hannibal’s straight. And not at the safe house, which is starting to wear on them all. He’s been staying out late and coming home reeking of bar, every night since they got here, every night since... and Face really doesn’t want to think about the April Fools joke they tried to pull.
Call it what it was, you bastard. It was your lame attempt to see if maybe he wouldn’t go for it. Go for you, a man... and Face wants to hit himself. Yeah, it was stupid. It was monumentally, suicidally stupid. Maybe the stupidest thing he’s ever done. But about a month ago, he woke up to the sound of quiet Murdock sniffles coating the predawn grays.
I love ‘im, Temp, I love ‘im too and I love you and...and...
What else was he supposed to do, for chrissakes? Other than shush Murdock down and tell him there was nothing wrong with loving Hannibal, that he loved Hannibal too, that maybe, maybe, they could test it out, push a little... and they’d agreed on April First. More chance of being to pull out gracefully. A little just-in-case.
He hadn’t counted on the colonel getting so goddamn offended. At the blow-up that occurred. And sure, the lieutenant can admit to himself, maybe he went a little overboard, trying to kiss him, but he really had thought he’d felt... something. Something from that monster cock the boss has? And he’d stopped, hadn’t he? At that twinge of hesitation right before he could have gotten rid of fifteen years of curiosity? He hadn’t pushed. Hadn’t taken.
He’d lost, though. Lost a lot.
Face runs a hand over him mouth.
The lieutenant knows he can’t avoid it. Responsibility, for this clusterfuck. He’s the reason this happened, why Murdock’s created an imaginary third-party intermediary to talk to Face so he doesn’t have to, why BA’s avoiding them all, why Hannibal’s probably out at some dive downtown fucking something soft and curvy, trying to prove to himself that he’s a man, goddammit, and men do not fuck other men...
He falls back against the wall, still staring at the bed. Where Hannibal should be. Where all three of them, fuck, all four of them, should be, in a just world. But nope. Not at all. Instead all he gets is the unsettling knowledge that not only is Hannibal not interested in them, but the boss finds it disgusting, unsightly, perverted. Or something. He knows he’s been behaving like a child, but, yet, that little revelation...
“Should have left it alone,” he groans aloud, dropping his forehead into one hand, bracing it all up on his knee, everything very heavy all of the sudden. “Motherfucker...”
“He still not home?” BA asks, poking his head in the door.
Face shakes his head, using that hand that’s tangled up in his messy hair to do it. “Makes five nights since we got here...”
“...not counting that one night we had’ta work,” the big guy finishes, and sighs. Actually sighs, and the exceeding strangeness of that noise causes Face to look up.
“Big fucking mess I’ve made,” he says, prompting really, those conman instincts telling him that BA knows something, and now’s the time to dig, dig, dig.
BA’s voice is level as he answer, “yeah, you did.”
“I just wanted...I wasn’t... look, BA, I know you’re probably pissed at me right now, but...” he tries to say, and their NCO shoots him a confused, resigned look and sits down, right next to him. “But, you know, I’ve...I’ve basically been...since I met him that first time, I guess. I wasn’t trying to offend him.”
“Boss got his boundaries,” BA says carefully. Too carefully! Face’s brain screams at him, but he keeps his face blank. “Sounds like you two way overstepped your fool selves.”
“Yeah, sure, but...” And he scoots up a little, this running itself out in his head for what seems like the hundredth time since he first reported in to Hannibal’s unit fifteen years ago. “We’ve never seen him with a girl, never seen him with anybody, he never talks about past relationships, he doesn’t have a single photo of anybody, anywhere, that isn’t military-related, we don’t know anything about his family...”
“He private, man.”
“Yeah, but look at this, BA! Fuck, that time I came on to him, he told me we weren’t going to discuss it. Not that he wasn’t gay, not that he didn’t want anything, just that it was against regs. End of story.”
BA’s shifting uncomfortably now. “Face, I don’t wanna get in the middle of...”
“I’m just trying to say that the evidence kinda almost supports him being gay. Or something,” Face says helplessly. “And...fuck, I just wanted Murdock to, to...”
“To what, Faceman?”
They both look up, and there he is, the love of his life, or one of them! his brain points out smugly, standing in the doorway, framed against the hallway light. It’s the first time the pilot’s said his name in over a week, and Face can’t lose that tenuous thread right now.
“To have an answer,” the lieutenant finishes sadly. “Either way. I didn’t want you to be hurting any more, James...”
Murdock nods, which is something, and sits down on the edge of the bed. “Don’t wanna be mad at you no more, Temp.”
“I know...”
“We were mean. You, you were mean.”
Face nods his head, looks down.
“I was mean, too,” he says.
“James...” he pleads, reaching out a hand towards the bed.
“Oh, fuck this!” BA practically yells, and jumps up, slamming his fist into the wall with a very meaty crack of his knuckles against the sheetrock, startling the other two. With a very, very visible deep breath, the corporal shakes that hand out and his forehead hits above the dent he just put there. “If I told you I knew...knew what goin’ on, you two stop actin’ like a couple of dumbass teenagers?”
Face, despite himself, feels something flare up, white hot, in his chest. “You know something and you’ve been letting this hang all...”
“Face, shut up,” Murdock says in that quiet command he can pull sometimes and stands up, puts a hand on BA’s shaking shoulder. “Where is he?”
“Fuck, man, I don’t exactly know but...” BA moans and shakes his head again. “I put a transponder in his wallet today. Should be able to find which club he’s at...”
Murdock glances at Face, who’s still on the floor, leaning against the wall, and back up to BA. The boss doesn't go clubbing. Ever. Under any circumstances. Bars. Not clubs. And the lieutenant's stomach starts sinking. Whatever's coming, it's coming hard, and it's very, very bad...
“...down in the Castro,” BA finishes, clearly embarrassed.
There’s a long, long silence in the room. The Castro. The gay district. There are only a few reasons Hannibal would go there, Face knows, and he’s too stunned to voice a single one, to ask a single question, and then...
“How long have you known, Bosco?” Murdock asks, frighteningly clear.
“He told me after the... I gave gonna say something, guys,” BA replies, mostly into the wall.
From down on the floor, Face can see Murdock’s fingers tightening into the big guy’s soft shirt. “When, BA? When he and Face were done killin’ each other over this...”
“I didn’t wanna get in the middle of it!”
“A fucking week, corporal!”
“It needed to come from Hannibal!”
“Well it fucking didn’t!”
“No. Good. James, stop. This is good, baby,” Face finally says, somehow getting to his feet, peeling his lover off BA, pulling the shaking man back into his arms. “BA, Murdock, let’s go get him. And then I am going to kill him.”
Rating: R
Warnings: angst! And fighting!
Summary: Part two of three for a fill for this prompt over at the kink meme
I recently wrote a tonne of Hannibal angst, and for some reason I need more. Hm.
So heres the idea.
Face and Murdock are together. Lovelorn!Hannibal has been dying to get in on that action but they've not really shown any sign of wanting him. But then, April 1st, they start showing interest. Touching him more than usual, making shrewd comments, driving him insane.
Then bang. April Fool's Boss! C'mon you didn't really think we were serious.................did you?
Ofc he did.
I'll also be happy with this prompt if it's H/F with outside Murdock, but my brain is telling me Boss wouldn't play a nasty prank on his unstable pilot like that. idek.
Hannibal thinks he might have a chance with his boys. But they’re just playing a joke...right?
Face looks down at the empty bed, his own quilt folded up neatly on the end that he’s claimed as he. And he knows. He can’t sleep right now.
He just can’t.
It’s nearly midnight, he and BA just got off running a scam on some teenage punks, finally got the kiddies to take the bait on a supposed better line of heroin, he’s exhausted, but there it is. Empty bed. No Murdock. And definitely no Hannibal.
Even if Hannibal were here, though, he doubts he’d be able to sleep. It’s been unbearable, the past five or six days, this close to all that man, and he remembers that fucking Artic op from a few years back, the whole sleeping bag thing, where he got to curl around the boss’ back and hug into him, just like he’s always wanted...
But Hannibal’s straight. And not at the safe house, which is starting to wear on them all. He’s been staying out late and coming home reeking of bar, every night since they got here, every night since... and Face really doesn’t want to think about the April Fools joke they tried to pull.
Call it what it was, you bastard. It was your lame attempt to see if maybe he wouldn’t go for it. Go for you, a man... and Face wants to hit himself. Yeah, it was stupid. It was monumentally, suicidally stupid. Maybe the stupidest thing he’s ever done. But about a month ago, he woke up to the sound of quiet Murdock sniffles coating the predawn grays.
I love ‘im, Temp, I love ‘im too and I love you and...and...
What else was he supposed to do, for chrissakes? Other than shush Murdock down and tell him there was nothing wrong with loving Hannibal, that he loved Hannibal too, that maybe, maybe, they could test it out, push a little... and they’d agreed on April First. More chance of being to pull out gracefully. A little just-in-case.
He hadn’t counted on the colonel getting so goddamn offended. At the blow-up that occurred. And sure, the lieutenant can admit to himself, maybe he went a little overboard, trying to kiss him, but he really had thought he’d felt... something. Something from that monster cock the boss has? And he’d stopped, hadn’t he? At that twinge of hesitation right before he could have gotten rid of fifteen years of curiosity? He hadn’t pushed. Hadn’t taken.
He’d lost, though. Lost a lot.
Face runs a hand over him mouth.
The lieutenant knows he can’t avoid it. Responsibility, for this clusterfuck. He’s the reason this happened, why Murdock’s created an imaginary third-party intermediary to talk to Face so he doesn’t have to, why BA’s avoiding them all, why Hannibal’s probably out at some dive downtown fucking something soft and curvy, trying to prove to himself that he’s a man, goddammit, and men do not fuck other men...
He falls back against the wall, still staring at the bed. Where Hannibal should be. Where all three of them, fuck, all four of them, should be, in a just world. But nope. Not at all. Instead all he gets is the unsettling knowledge that not only is Hannibal not interested in them, but the boss finds it disgusting, unsightly, perverted. Or something. He knows he’s been behaving like a child, but, yet, that little revelation...
“Should have left it alone,” he groans aloud, dropping his forehead into one hand, bracing it all up on his knee, everything very heavy all of the sudden. “Motherfucker...”
“He still not home?” BA asks, poking his head in the door.
Face shakes his head, using that hand that’s tangled up in his messy hair to do it. “Makes five nights since we got here...”
“...not counting that one night we had’ta work,” the big guy finishes, and sighs. Actually sighs, and the exceeding strangeness of that noise causes Face to look up.
“Big fucking mess I’ve made,” he says, prompting really, those conman instincts telling him that BA knows something, and now’s the time to dig, dig, dig.
BA’s voice is level as he answer, “yeah, you did.”
“I just wanted...I wasn’t... look, BA, I know you’re probably pissed at me right now, but...” he tries to say, and their NCO shoots him a confused, resigned look and sits down, right next to him. “But, you know, I’ve...I’ve basically been...since I met him that first time, I guess. I wasn’t trying to offend him.”
“Boss got his boundaries,” BA says carefully. Too carefully! Face’s brain screams at him, but he keeps his face blank. “Sounds like you two way overstepped your fool selves.”
“Yeah, sure, but...” And he scoots up a little, this running itself out in his head for what seems like the hundredth time since he first reported in to Hannibal’s unit fifteen years ago. “We’ve never seen him with a girl, never seen him with anybody, he never talks about past relationships, he doesn’t have a single photo of anybody, anywhere, that isn’t military-related, we don’t know anything about his family...”
“He private, man.”
“Yeah, but look at this, BA! Fuck, that time I came on to him, he told me we weren’t going to discuss it. Not that he wasn’t gay, not that he didn’t want anything, just that it was against regs. End of story.”
BA’s shifting uncomfortably now. “Face, I don’t wanna get in the middle of...”
“I’m just trying to say that the evidence kinda almost supports him being gay. Or something,” Face says helplessly. “And...fuck, I just wanted Murdock to, to...”
“To what, Faceman?”
They both look up, and there he is, the love of his life, or one of them! his brain points out smugly, standing in the doorway, framed against the hallway light. It’s the first time the pilot’s said his name in over a week, and Face can’t lose that tenuous thread right now.
“To have an answer,” the lieutenant finishes sadly. “Either way. I didn’t want you to be hurting any more, James...”
Murdock nods, which is something, and sits down on the edge of the bed. “Don’t wanna be mad at you no more, Temp.”
“I know...”
“We were mean. You, you were mean.”
Face nods his head, looks down.
“I was mean, too,” he says.
“James...” he pleads, reaching out a hand towards the bed.
“Oh, fuck this!” BA practically yells, and jumps up, slamming his fist into the wall with a very meaty crack of his knuckles against the sheetrock, startling the other two. With a very, very visible deep breath, the corporal shakes that hand out and his forehead hits above the dent he just put there. “If I told you I knew...knew what goin’ on, you two stop actin’ like a couple of dumbass teenagers?”
Face, despite himself, feels something flare up, white hot, in his chest. “You know something and you’ve been letting this hang all...”
“Face, shut up,” Murdock says in that quiet command he can pull sometimes and stands up, puts a hand on BA’s shaking shoulder. “Where is he?”
“Fuck, man, I don’t exactly know but...” BA moans and shakes his head again. “I put a transponder in his wallet today. Should be able to find which club he’s at...”
Murdock glances at Face, who’s still on the floor, leaning against the wall, and back up to BA. The boss doesn't go clubbing. Ever. Under any circumstances. Bars. Not clubs. And the lieutenant's stomach starts sinking. Whatever's coming, it's coming hard, and it's very, very bad...
“...down in the Castro,” BA finishes, clearly embarrassed.
There’s a long, long silence in the room. The Castro. The gay district. There are only a few reasons Hannibal would go there, Face knows, and he’s too stunned to voice a single one, to ask a single question, and then...
“How long have you known, Bosco?” Murdock asks, frighteningly clear.
“He told me after the... I gave gonna say something, guys,” BA replies, mostly into the wall.
From down on the floor, Face can see Murdock’s fingers tightening into the big guy’s soft shirt. “When, BA? When he and Face were done killin’ each other over this...”
“I didn’t wanna get in the middle of it!”
“A fucking week, corporal!”
“It needed to come from Hannibal!”
“Well it fucking didn’t!”
“No. Good. James, stop. This is good, baby,” Face finally says, somehow getting to his feet, peeling his lover off BA, pulling the shaking man back into his arms. “BA, Murdock, let’s go get him. And then I am going to kill him.”
