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sonora_conejaPairing: Hannibal/Murdock
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: mentions of electroshock therapy
Summary: A fill for this post on the original kink meme.
Hannibal/Murdock
Hannibal has to pick Murdock up from the VA (he couldn't talk Face/BA into it?) and finds out about the electroshock treatments they've been doing on Murdock.
Cue whisking weak!sad!Murdock away and comforting!Hannibal.
And sex. Comforting!sex, but yes with the sex? Can has?
Prompt says it all. Also, one of the first ones I did, so be kind!
Hannibal turned his car into the parking lot of the VA hospital, adjusting the black wig for the umpteenth time as he threw the vehicle into park. He really didn’t want to be doing this. He had, three hours ago, had an interview set up with the hottest B-monster-movie producer in Hollywood, but then he’d gotten a frantic call from a repeat client, and had to pull the team together.
Problem was, nobody seemed to be available tonight. Face wasn’t picking up the phone at his scammed apartment, and BA was taking some of the neighborhood kids to a boxing tournament downtown tonight. That left him to go pick up Murdock.
As far as he could tell, the only person on staff this late was the night nurse, a bored-looking young woman in a tired white uniform. She had her feet propped up on the desk, crochet hook in hand, listening to some sleazy late-night radio show. She barely looked up as he approached.
“Hello, miss, can you point me to HM Murdock’s room, please?”
“Are you family?” she asked, clearly uninterested in the answer.
“I’m from Mercy General, psychiatric staff,” he said, and handed her the fake credentials. “I was going over his chart earlier today, and noticed a few discrepancies in his...”
She handed them back, along with a clip-board and sign-in sheet. “You’re welcome to go check up on him. They finished a few hours ago.”
Finished? “No, you don't understand. This is an order to have him moved, young lady,” he said, waggling the paper in front of her.
“A bit late for that, isn’t it?”
Hannibal took a massive intuitive leap. “I have serious concerns about the nature of his treatment. We want to keep him for a few days, for observation.”
“Fifth door down the hall. It’s marked. You need any help, let me know.” She nodded, handed him a key, and buzzed him back into the ward. Her half-finished tissue-box cover had never left her hand.
“I’ll be sure to do that,” Hannibal said, and passed back into the harsh fluorescent lighting of the whitewashed hallway. Nasty facility, nasty nurse, nasty smell. No wonder Murdock hadn’t been getting any better, Hannibal thought to himself.
He found Murdock’s room where she had said it would be, the pilot’s name taped to the door. Hannibal rapped lightly. “Murdock?” he said in a low voice. “Captain, are you in there?”
He thought he heard a slurred response, and keyed open the lock as quietly as he could. Didn’t want to get jumped. Murdock had been known to do a lot of weird things in his sleep. He was expecting a lunge, or a spark of excitement, or a greeting. At least a mumbled hello.
But in the darkened little room, the only sound was that of muffled, ragged breathing.
Hannibal approached the bed slowly. They’d all seen Murdock in bad states before, depressed or quiet or moody. But the colonel didn’t think he’d ever seen him like this.
The man was curled up in a fetal position under the thin hospital blanket, grasping hands tugging at the covering with tight, shuddering movements. He was shaking, and Hannibal realized the strange breathing was a result of the pilot trying to choke back sobs.
He sat down on the edge of the bed carefully, and laid a hand on Murdock’s shoulder. The effect was instantaneous. His entire body seemed to lift off the foam pad that passed for a mattress, and when he hit back down, bouncing a little, he curled up even tighter.
“Captain, captain, it’s me. It’s Hannibal.”
A few more uneven breaths, and then Murdock turned his head a little. “You ain’t Hannibal,” he drawled. “Face is the only one who comes. So you ain’t Hannibal.”
Hannibal felt his insides twist up with an unfamiliar guilt. It was true. He’d never been here before. And this, this was bad. He should have checked up on his boy before now.
“It’s me, Murdock, it’s me,” he said, laying his hand back down. Murdock didn’t react quite as violently, but he still tried to shie away from the contact. “What’s wrong with you, son?”
“Supposin' I believed you, which I do not,” Murdock said slowly, “you got your gloves with you?”
“Sure do, captain.”
“You should put those on. I’m a live wire right now.”
Hannibal got them out and on and ran a reassuring hand down Murdock’s arm, like he was soothing a startled dog. It helped sometimes. He kept at this, until the pilot began to unfurl, legs rolling down through the blanket until he was completely stretched out, laying on his back, staring up at the ceiling. In the dim light from the window, Hannibal could see how tense his face still looked, scrunched up and pained.
Murdock’s clothes were laying in a heap on the floor by Hannibal’s feet. He leaned down to pick it up, noticing that the fabric at the neck was ripped, like Murdock had torn them all off. The man was naked under the blanket.
“Murdock? What’s going on with you tonight, captain?”
“All the bright sparks inside me, lighting me up, charging that capacitor and bang, down it goes again, the sweet taste of the shock in my teeth, mm, hmm, colonel, I do love me that taste under the electrodes...”
Hannibal stopped his petting, stunned. “Electroshock, Murdock?"
"That's the name of the game," Murdock babbled.
"How long? When?”
“Every couple’a’weeks, I go see the inside of the reactor. Real fun, good tour, you're there but you look different...”
Murdock still wasn't convinced Hannibal was really here, he realized. “And you never told the team?”
“Told the faceman, but don’t a-go blaming him. I asked Face not ta tell ya, boss,” Murdock said quietly, the southern twang getting heavier, like it always did when he was real upset. “I didn’t wantcha to know.”
“Shit, Murdock, why not?”
“What difference does it make? You ain’t really here. I’m crazy, they all say so, only Face comes to see me here...”
And Hannibal wasn’t about to have that kind of talk from one of his boys. He bent over, kissing Murdock’s forehead. “I’m real, Murdock. I’m here. And we need you, captain. Got a mission to run for the folks out at the mission...”
Murdock yawned, and pawed Hannibal away. "Go 'way. Had me enough crazy for the day."
And that wasn't good at all.
Hannibal needed to hit someone right now. He needed a cigar. He needed this to be better so they could go help their client. He needed Murdock.
That was it. He could never stand to see one of his boys in pain.
“Damnit, captain, we need you!”
“I live out here in the big wide world, so ‘m useless to an imaginary colonel, sir, no offense intended, o’ course,” Murdock mumbled, emphasizing every syllable. The pitiful tone in his captain’s voice seemed to snap something inside Hannibal, and the next thing he knew, he had a hand bracing himself against the wall and their lips were touching. This helped sometimes, too, he told himself, and ignored that sparking inside his chest. He was only doing what he needed to do to help.
Murdock sway up into it for a moment, and then, just like a startled dog, scrambled back as flat and as small as he could manage against the wall, knees tucked up, eyes wide. “You can’t do that. You ain’t here.”
If this is what it took to bring Murdock back to reality... “I’m here, captain,” Hannibal said, lifting himself up and setlling his knees on either side of Murdock’s feet. “I’m really here,” he said again, peeling Murdock’s hands away from his legs and leaning in for another kiss.
“What about the capacitor?” Murdock gulped, and Hannibal thought fast.
“I’ve got a ground, captain. We’ll pull all that nasty electricity right out of you,” he murmured. A gloved hand lifted to trace that fine cheekbone of his pilot. “But you have to let me make contact, Murdock. Red and black. Like jumpstarting a car battery.”
Murdock gasped, and wound his hands under Hannibal’s armpits to grasp him tightly around the back, pulling him in. The colonel grunted a little, and maneuvered them both around until Murdock was laying on his back with Hannibal pressing down between his legs, nuzzling his neck. The other man was whimpering.
“Shh, Murdock,” he soothed, “tell me what you need.”
He was thinking it was just going to be a modified hug, the kind Murdock liked to get from all of them every once in a while, so he was shocked when Murdock drew back a little and whispered, “need to feel...”
Hannibal had a fleeting thought, like maybe Murdock wasn’t really capable of giving consent right now, but he’d seen the man do crazier things under worse conditions, and he couldn’t help but notice how his own cock jumped at the suggestion. He could feel Murdock humping up, hardening under the blanket, and he kissed the man again.
“Okay.”
Hannibal took it slow, still not wanting to make any sudden movements or loud noises that might scare the captain back into catatonia. He pulled back and stripped quickly, careful to fold each article of clothing and set it gently down, leaving his gloves on, in case Murdock was still worried about shocking him. Away with his suit came the wretched hospital blanket. Murdock sighed a little as the cool night air hit his heated skin, his erection now straight and proud, eyes closed, hair messed out from Hannibal’s earlier teasing.
The colonel paused a little at the sight of his captain laid out like this. He’d seen him naked before, of course, but this, this was just different. This was, this was good, he decided, and moved back in. ”We’ll drain that capacitor of every last watt, captain.”
“Volt, sir.”
“Whatever, we’ll get rid of it.”
Hannibal sealed his mouth over Murdock’s, gently running a tongue along the inside of his captain’s upper lip as he reached between them and captured Murdock’s cock in a gloved hand. Murdock groaned, and Hannibal pressed deeper into the other man’s wonderful mouth, sucking on his tongue as his hand slowly coaxed Murdock to climax, the warm sensation of another man’s cum filling the space between them in an oddly fitting manner.
“Mmm,” the pilot moaned, sounding a little bit more like himself, a bit brighter.
“That going to do it, captain?”
“You gotta close the circuit, sir,” and Hannibal had honestly no idea what Murdock was talking about until the other man bucked his hips a little, and rolled over onto his belly. “Please sir, it’s the only way.”
Hannibal was in the habit of indulging the captain’s delusions, and he noticed with some embarrassment that he was hard, but this?
“It ain’t so different than with a lady, boss.”
And that begging he heard there was doing things to Hannibal that he wasn’t quite sure he understood. “Murdock, I don’t...”
“No, ‘s’okay. Don’t need to stretch me out or anything,” Murdock said lazily, and Hannibal’s balls tightened just a little bit. He didn’t ask why. He didn’t want to know the answer right now, didn’t want Murdock to have to tell him, but he made a mental note to creatively interrogate every male member of the staff here.
“Okay, captain,” he said, moving back in. He ran a hand, fingers in line, through the other man’s crack, feeling the pucker flutter, drawing another of those delicious moans. He knelt over Murdock, the best way it seemed to do this, and sank all the way in.
He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to do that, but by god, Murdock was tight and mewling now and babbling in German and Spanish and something else he didn’t recognize, and that was a very, very good sign. Not so different than a woman? He pulled out a little and sank back in.
Hannibal caught the Russian word for angle, and changed it, moving around a little until Murdock cried out. He stopped, worried. “Captain?”
“No, good,” Murdock grunted. “There’s the connection site. Hit it again.”
Hannibal set a rhythm, surprisingly easy after the first few tries. Murdock squirmed and gasped and pleaded beneath him, the soft noises driving him on until he felt that warmth and that clench and then Murdock sighed as Hannibal’s essence flooded into him.
After he recovered a little, because he wasn’t as young as he used to be, Hannibal ran a trembling hand through Murdock’s hair. The captain groaned, and rubbed his face across his pillow. “You were saying we had a mission to go run?”
“Got you a chopper bit and everything,” Hannibal promised him. “You’re not going to short-circuit the electronics, are you?”
“No, sir. Power levels at nominal.”
Hannibal pressed his lips once more to the back of Murdock’s neck. “That’s good to hear, captain, good to hear.”
He got them both up and dressed, explaining the con to Murdock. He grinned, and went so far into character than Hannibal was sure the pilot had fallen back into the post-shock haze until they got to the car. There, Murdock started up about being a nuclear reactor and three-eyed fish and mutant spiders. Typical babble for him. A good sign.
And if Murdock seemed to steal a glance or a touch more than he usually did, Hannibal didn’t mind in the least. He'd gotten his boy straightened out.
That was all that mattered here tonight.
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: mentions of electroshock therapy
Summary: A fill for this post on the original kink meme.
Hannibal/Murdock
Hannibal has to pick Murdock up from the VA (he couldn't talk Face/BA into it?) and finds out about the electroshock treatments they've been doing on Murdock.
Cue whisking weak!sad!Murdock away and comforting!Hannibal.
And sex. Comforting!sex, but yes with the sex? Can has?
Prompt says it all. Also, one of the first ones I did, so be kind!
Hannibal turned his car into the parking lot of the VA hospital, adjusting the black wig for the umpteenth time as he threw the vehicle into park. He really didn’t want to be doing this. He had, three hours ago, had an interview set up with the hottest B-monster-movie producer in Hollywood, but then he’d gotten a frantic call from a repeat client, and had to pull the team together.
Problem was, nobody seemed to be available tonight. Face wasn’t picking up the phone at his scammed apartment, and BA was taking some of the neighborhood kids to a boxing tournament downtown tonight. That left him to go pick up Murdock.
As far as he could tell, the only person on staff this late was the night nurse, a bored-looking young woman in a tired white uniform. She had her feet propped up on the desk, crochet hook in hand, listening to some sleazy late-night radio show. She barely looked up as he approached.
“Hello, miss, can you point me to HM Murdock’s room, please?”
“Are you family?” she asked, clearly uninterested in the answer.
“I’m from Mercy General, psychiatric staff,” he said, and handed her the fake credentials. “I was going over his chart earlier today, and noticed a few discrepancies in his...”
She handed them back, along with a clip-board and sign-in sheet. “You’re welcome to go check up on him. They finished a few hours ago.”
Finished? “No, you don't understand. This is an order to have him moved, young lady,” he said, waggling the paper in front of her.
“A bit late for that, isn’t it?”
Hannibal took a massive intuitive leap. “I have serious concerns about the nature of his treatment. We want to keep him for a few days, for observation.”
“Fifth door down the hall. It’s marked. You need any help, let me know.” She nodded, handed him a key, and buzzed him back into the ward. Her half-finished tissue-box cover had never left her hand.
“I’ll be sure to do that,” Hannibal said, and passed back into the harsh fluorescent lighting of the whitewashed hallway. Nasty facility, nasty nurse, nasty smell. No wonder Murdock hadn’t been getting any better, Hannibal thought to himself.
He found Murdock’s room where she had said it would be, the pilot’s name taped to the door. Hannibal rapped lightly. “Murdock?” he said in a low voice. “Captain, are you in there?”
He thought he heard a slurred response, and keyed open the lock as quietly as he could. Didn’t want to get jumped. Murdock had been known to do a lot of weird things in his sleep. He was expecting a lunge, or a spark of excitement, or a greeting. At least a mumbled hello.
But in the darkened little room, the only sound was that of muffled, ragged breathing.
Hannibal approached the bed slowly. They’d all seen Murdock in bad states before, depressed or quiet or moody. But the colonel didn’t think he’d ever seen him like this.
The man was curled up in a fetal position under the thin hospital blanket, grasping hands tugging at the covering with tight, shuddering movements. He was shaking, and Hannibal realized the strange breathing was a result of the pilot trying to choke back sobs.
He sat down on the edge of the bed carefully, and laid a hand on Murdock’s shoulder. The effect was instantaneous. His entire body seemed to lift off the foam pad that passed for a mattress, and when he hit back down, bouncing a little, he curled up even tighter.
“Captain, captain, it’s me. It’s Hannibal.”
A few more uneven breaths, and then Murdock turned his head a little. “You ain’t Hannibal,” he drawled. “Face is the only one who comes. So you ain’t Hannibal.”
Hannibal felt his insides twist up with an unfamiliar guilt. It was true. He’d never been here before. And this, this was bad. He should have checked up on his boy before now.
“It’s me, Murdock, it’s me,” he said, laying his hand back down. Murdock didn’t react quite as violently, but he still tried to shie away from the contact. “What’s wrong with you, son?”
“Supposin' I believed you, which I do not,” Murdock said slowly, “you got your gloves with you?”
“Sure do, captain.”
“You should put those on. I’m a live wire right now.”
Hannibal got them out and on and ran a reassuring hand down Murdock’s arm, like he was soothing a startled dog. It helped sometimes. He kept at this, until the pilot began to unfurl, legs rolling down through the blanket until he was completely stretched out, laying on his back, staring up at the ceiling. In the dim light from the window, Hannibal could see how tense his face still looked, scrunched up and pained.
Murdock’s clothes were laying in a heap on the floor by Hannibal’s feet. He leaned down to pick it up, noticing that the fabric at the neck was ripped, like Murdock had torn them all off. The man was naked under the blanket.
“Murdock? What’s going on with you tonight, captain?”
“All the bright sparks inside me, lighting me up, charging that capacitor and bang, down it goes again, the sweet taste of the shock in my teeth, mm, hmm, colonel, I do love me that taste under the electrodes...”
Hannibal stopped his petting, stunned. “Electroshock, Murdock?"
"That's the name of the game," Murdock babbled.
"How long? When?”
“Every couple’a’weeks, I go see the inside of the reactor. Real fun, good tour, you're there but you look different...”
Murdock still wasn't convinced Hannibal was really here, he realized. “And you never told the team?”
“Told the faceman, but don’t a-go blaming him. I asked Face not ta tell ya, boss,” Murdock said quietly, the southern twang getting heavier, like it always did when he was real upset. “I didn’t wantcha to know.”
“Shit, Murdock, why not?”
“What difference does it make? You ain’t really here. I’m crazy, they all say so, only Face comes to see me here...”
And Hannibal wasn’t about to have that kind of talk from one of his boys. He bent over, kissing Murdock’s forehead. “I’m real, Murdock. I’m here. And we need you, captain. Got a mission to run for the folks out at the mission...”
Murdock yawned, and pawed Hannibal away. "Go 'way. Had me enough crazy for the day."
And that wasn't good at all.
Hannibal needed to hit someone right now. He needed a cigar. He needed this to be better so they could go help their client. He needed Murdock.
That was it. He could never stand to see one of his boys in pain.
“Damnit, captain, we need you!”
“I live out here in the big wide world, so ‘m useless to an imaginary colonel, sir, no offense intended, o’ course,” Murdock mumbled, emphasizing every syllable. The pitiful tone in his captain’s voice seemed to snap something inside Hannibal, and the next thing he knew, he had a hand bracing himself against the wall and their lips were touching. This helped sometimes, too, he told himself, and ignored that sparking inside his chest. He was only doing what he needed to do to help.
Murdock sway up into it for a moment, and then, just like a startled dog, scrambled back as flat and as small as he could manage against the wall, knees tucked up, eyes wide. “You can’t do that. You ain’t here.”
If this is what it took to bring Murdock back to reality... “I’m here, captain,” Hannibal said, lifting himself up and setlling his knees on either side of Murdock’s feet. “I’m really here,” he said again, peeling Murdock’s hands away from his legs and leaning in for another kiss.
“What about the capacitor?” Murdock gulped, and Hannibal thought fast.
“I’ve got a ground, captain. We’ll pull all that nasty electricity right out of you,” he murmured. A gloved hand lifted to trace that fine cheekbone of his pilot. “But you have to let me make contact, Murdock. Red and black. Like jumpstarting a car battery.”
Murdock gasped, and wound his hands under Hannibal’s armpits to grasp him tightly around the back, pulling him in. The colonel grunted a little, and maneuvered them both around until Murdock was laying on his back with Hannibal pressing down between his legs, nuzzling his neck. The other man was whimpering.
“Shh, Murdock,” he soothed, “tell me what you need.”
He was thinking it was just going to be a modified hug, the kind Murdock liked to get from all of them every once in a while, so he was shocked when Murdock drew back a little and whispered, “need to feel...”
Hannibal had a fleeting thought, like maybe Murdock wasn’t really capable of giving consent right now, but he’d seen the man do crazier things under worse conditions, and he couldn’t help but notice how his own cock jumped at the suggestion. He could feel Murdock humping up, hardening under the blanket, and he kissed the man again.
“Okay.”
Hannibal took it slow, still not wanting to make any sudden movements or loud noises that might scare the captain back into catatonia. He pulled back and stripped quickly, careful to fold each article of clothing and set it gently down, leaving his gloves on, in case Murdock was still worried about shocking him. Away with his suit came the wretched hospital blanket. Murdock sighed a little as the cool night air hit his heated skin, his erection now straight and proud, eyes closed, hair messed out from Hannibal’s earlier teasing.
The colonel paused a little at the sight of his captain laid out like this. He’d seen him naked before, of course, but this, this was just different. This was, this was good, he decided, and moved back in. ”We’ll drain that capacitor of every last watt, captain.”
“Volt, sir.”
“Whatever, we’ll get rid of it.”
Hannibal sealed his mouth over Murdock’s, gently running a tongue along the inside of his captain’s upper lip as he reached between them and captured Murdock’s cock in a gloved hand. Murdock groaned, and Hannibal pressed deeper into the other man’s wonderful mouth, sucking on his tongue as his hand slowly coaxed Murdock to climax, the warm sensation of another man’s cum filling the space between them in an oddly fitting manner.
“Mmm,” the pilot moaned, sounding a little bit more like himself, a bit brighter.
“That going to do it, captain?”
“You gotta close the circuit, sir,” and Hannibal had honestly no idea what Murdock was talking about until the other man bucked his hips a little, and rolled over onto his belly. “Please sir, it’s the only way.”
Hannibal was in the habit of indulging the captain’s delusions, and he noticed with some embarrassment that he was hard, but this?
“It ain’t so different than with a lady, boss.”
And that begging he heard there was doing things to Hannibal that he wasn’t quite sure he understood. “Murdock, I don’t...”
“No, ‘s’okay. Don’t need to stretch me out or anything,” Murdock said lazily, and Hannibal’s balls tightened just a little bit. He didn’t ask why. He didn’t want to know the answer right now, didn’t want Murdock to have to tell him, but he made a mental note to creatively interrogate every male member of the staff here.
“Okay, captain,” he said, moving back in. He ran a hand, fingers in line, through the other man’s crack, feeling the pucker flutter, drawing another of those delicious moans. He knelt over Murdock, the best way it seemed to do this, and sank all the way in.
He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to do that, but by god, Murdock was tight and mewling now and babbling in German and Spanish and something else he didn’t recognize, and that was a very, very good sign. Not so different than a woman? He pulled out a little and sank back in.
Hannibal caught the Russian word for angle, and changed it, moving around a little until Murdock cried out. He stopped, worried. “Captain?”
“No, good,” Murdock grunted. “There’s the connection site. Hit it again.”
Hannibal set a rhythm, surprisingly easy after the first few tries. Murdock squirmed and gasped and pleaded beneath him, the soft noises driving him on until he felt that warmth and that clench and then Murdock sighed as Hannibal’s essence flooded into him.
After he recovered a little, because he wasn’t as young as he used to be, Hannibal ran a trembling hand through Murdock’s hair. The captain groaned, and rubbed his face across his pillow. “You were saying we had a mission to go run?”
“Got you a chopper bit and everything,” Hannibal promised him. “You’re not going to short-circuit the electronics, are you?”
“No, sir. Power levels at nominal.”
Hannibal pressed his lips once more to the back of Murdock’s neck. “That’s good to hear, captain, good to hear.”
He got them both up and dressed, explaining the con to Murdock. He grinned, and went so far into character than Hannibal was sure the pilot had fallen back into the post-shock haze until they got to the car. There, Murdock started up about being a nuclear reactor and three-eyed fish and mutant spiders. Typical babble for him. A good sign.
And if Murdock seemed to steal a glance or a touch more than he usually did, Hannibal didn’t mind in the least. He'd gotten his boy straightened out.
That was all that mattered here tonight.
