Fandom: The A-Team (2010)
Pairing: Established Hannibal/Face, first time Hannibal/Murdock/Face
Word Count: 8,600
Summary: The first time Murdock found himself in Face and Hannibal’s bed, he wasn’t exactly invited, but they were more than happy to keep him.
A/N: Secret Santa 2010 gift for johnnywalkerblu. Beta read by the wonderful unfeathered
Angry light hit his eyes in thin, horizontal bands. Blinds on the windows? Where’d the curtains go? What the...?
Murdock opened his eyes again, carefully, but his eyelids felt heavy and he let them sag closed. Better try his other senses. Smelled like man, but it was a small apartment occupied by four large men, so that wasn’t much to go on, except... oh no. That was expensive after shave in the air, and that, behind it, rather more subtle but a hell of a lot more potent, was the unmistakable scent of extremely contraband cigars.
Face and Hannibal’s room again. Damn.
Well, at least he was still inside the apartment. During the last week, he’d found himself waking up in gardens and parking lots, covered in mud, convinced he was a werewolf until someone pointed out that it was approaching the new moon. So just regular sleepwalking, then. And this made the third morning in a row he’d woken up in Face and Hannibal’s room. First time he was curled up in a heap on the floor, second time he was in their wardrobe, and both times he’d managed to escape without disturbing them.
This time, however, he seemed to have made a grave error. He could feel a heavy weight against his back, a leg shoved between his own, something rough against his skin... stubble? Could be. Had to be. All of which meant that one of them was cuddling up to him, assuming him to be the other.
He tried opening his eyes again, and this time the sunlight seemed far less harsh. He blinked twice, turned his head to the right, and found himself nose-to-nose with a sleeping Hannibal. A glance to the left revealed Face, clinging to him like a monkey on a branch, nose tucked into the space where Murdock’s neck met his shoulder, hand curled against Murdock’s chest, slightly awkwardly, covering his ribs just below his heart. The spot where, had Face latched onto the correct man, he’d be protectively covering the scar which was all that remained of the particularly nasty wound Hannibal had been damn lucky to recover from a few years previously. Murdock found himself grinning despite his predicament. That was pretty adorable of Face. Also pretty intimate a thing to be in on.
Time to make himself scarce before either of them woke up.
Murdock wriggled carefully, aiming for the foot of the bed and freedom, but when he moved Face only snuggled closer, trapping him. There was no way to escape from Hannibal’s side. Even touching the man was likely to result in a punch to the throat if Hannibal didn’t recognise him instinctively as his lover. Which he wouldn’t, because Murdock was not that man. And being part of the team was not enough, as BA had discovered to his peril that one time they voted to wake Hannibal early so they could go out for breakfast. Bad move. Ever since then, they’d waited patiently until the boss awoken, had his coffee and cigar, and then pestered him relentlessly for food.
Hmm. Quite the predicament. Certain death one way, certain embarrassment the other. Given that choice, Murdock went for the third option; lie there very still and pretend to also be asleep on the off-chance that Face would roll away and he could flee.
Several minutes passed like that, with Hannibal just beginning to snore on his right, and Face sleepily nuzzling and snuggling him on the left. The boss only snored when he was dozing off or beginning to awaken, and that put a time limit on Murdock’s escape.
So did the growing pressure against Murdock’s thigh. Ohgodohgod, Face slept in the nude, didn’t he? And that was no knee, no elbow, no finger jabbing up against him, that was unmistakably and quite definitely morning wood. And Face began to stretch his body out, rubbing up against Murdock, that hand on his chest slid lower, and in the split second before Murdock could reach the conclusion that taking the risk and vaulting over Hannibal was the best course of action, Face’s eyes snapped open.
They stared at each other, seconds stretching between them, until Face blinked rapidly and cleared his throat.
“Well. This is awkward.”
“Er. Hi, Faceguy.”
Two sets of eyes flickered downwards. Then, in unison, they both shot backwards, Face spreading himself up against the wall, and Murdock leaping onto -
Oh, right. Hannibal.
The boss went from gently snoring to slamming Murdock down into the mattress in one beautiful, deadly second. The hand around his throat was loose enough to allow him to breathe, on the off-chance, he supposed, that Hannibal’s assailant was actually an overly frisky Face, but the knee digging into his guts was an issue. Face, thankfully, was just with it enough to grab Hannibal under the shoulders and pull him away from Murdock before he actually caused any pain. And then there was another of those endless moments with Face and Hannibal in a heap near the end of the bed, and Murdock too startled to bolt for the door.
“Captain,” Hannibal said, breaking the silence. “Sleepwalking again?”
Murdock just stared. He’d seen his friends in some pretty intimate situations, of course. Curled together on the sofa, casually kissing, or sleeping side by side. He’d often watched out of the corner of his eye, when all four of them sat and watched movies together in the evenings, and noticed the way Hannibal’s hands moved possessively over Face, just tiny little gestures, brushing fingers across his knee, stroking his hair, his ribs, the delicate inside of an arm... all so personal, so private, but nothing compared to this tableau in front of him now. Face, naked, and Hannibal in his shorts, their legs entwined, blankets rumbled and twisted around them, lounging together in the mess of their bed. Hannibal’s hair was sticking up at all angles, the corners of his eyes creased, a tiny smile tweaking up the corner of his mouth. Face looked far more conflicted. Looked like he wanted to bolt himself. While Hannibal was carefully watching Murdock’s face, Face’s wide-eyed gaze was, he noticed, fixated a little lower.
“Yeah,” Murdock managed. “I guess so. Must be the planets aligning all wrong again.”
“Must be,” said Hannibal kindly. His gaze flicked towards Face for the briefest of moments, then it was back to Murdock again. “I wonder why your subconscious brought you in here?”
“Dunno, boss. Maybe it was lonely?”
“Yet you share a room with BA. You could have climbed in with him.”
Face blinked his eyes and nudged Hannibal in the ribs. “What’re you talking about? It was a simple mistake, Murdock’s very sorry he woke you, and now he’s leaving.”
Murdock nodded gratefully. He knew perfectly well how Face and Hannibal liked to say good morning to each other - listened out for it most mornings, in fact. One hand stroking himself, the other clamped between his teeth so he couldn’t cry out anything incriminating by accident - not that he would, of course, because it was sheer coincidence that he liked such a positive start to his day too.
Of course it was.
Hannibal’s eyes made another pointed little movement. This time downwards, taking in the tent that had formed in Murdock’s shorts. The one he’d been hoping Hannibal would not notice, just in case it really was possible to die from awkward. Face had been staring the whole time, but that was Face. Half-naked body on display? If Face wasn’t staring, the room was probably on fire. But Hannibal...
His eyes locked once again with Murdock’s, Hannibal’s lips parted and his tongue flicked out, moistening his lower lip, vanishing almost as quickly as it appeared. But this was Hannibal Smith, and he did not do anything by accident.
Hannibal ran a hand up Face’s spine, resting it against the back of his neck. “What do you think, Temp? Should we help HM out with his little situation there?”
Face swallowed compulsively. “There’s nothing little about it...”
Hannibal chuckled. “No, you’re quite right. What do you say, Captain? I can see a certain part of you already expressing enthusiasm, but I want to hear it. Need a hand?”
Face was shifting in Hannibal’s arms, not pulling away but fidgeting, tearing his gaze away from Murdock to look round at Hannibal, then letting it swing back again. Lips parted, sandy hair rumpled, pupils blown. Murdock had never seen anything more beautiful in his life. Never wanted anything more than...
He nodded enthusiastically. Hannibal’s grin widened.
“That’ll do.” He squeezed the back of Face’s neck, and the Lieutenant moaned softly. Murdock watched, eyes locked with Hannibal’s, as the Colonel leaned forward to whisper something in Face’s ear. Face nodded enthusiastically, then slid out of Hannibal’s embrace, cupped Murdock’s face in his hands, and kissed him.
Face, Murdock found himself thinking in a distant, detached sort of way, kissed just like he did everything else; as though the very next thing he was going to do was drop dead, and he absolutely had to make the most of this opportunity before it vanished forever. And, just like everything else he did, Face kissed with skill. Murdock found himself submitting, letting Face take over and just enjoying it. Not a situation he was used to, and before long he had to push back into Face’s mouth, stealing the kiss away from him, one hand on Face’s shoulder in an attempt to press him backwards onto the bed.
A little growl of frustration rose in Face’s throat. Hannibal’s eyes widened, and he moved round for a better view as Murdock found himself battling against Face for dominance. Physically, they were pretty well-matched - Face a little stronger, Murdock a little quicker - and it occurred to Murdock that neither of them was willing to back down from this impasse. He panicked a little. He’d fucked up, obviously, should have run while he had the chance, should have said no when Hannibal asked him, shouldn’t have started to push Face because now he couldn’t surrender and neither could Face. But just as he was about to go into full-on panic mode, a warm hand rested on his shoulder, thumb rubbing his neck, then moved down his back, stroking him so gently. He leaned back into Hannibal’s touch, and Face came with him, one hand gripping Murdock’s hair, the other on his chest, pressing him back against their boss.
“Easy, kid,” Hannibal murmured, wrapping both strong arms around Murdock. Kissed the back of his neck, tugged gently at his ear lobe with his teeth. Face backed off a little, giving himself a better view, before lunging back in to kiss Hannibal, trapping Murdock between them. When Hannibal released him, Face sank back on his heels, rested his hands on Murdock’s thighs, and smirked. It took a moment for Murdock to realise what the smirk was for; Hannibal’s hand had moved down Murdock’s chest, and now fingers dipped briefly beneath the waistband of his boxers, before sliding over the white cotton, rubbing his hip bone, creating friction. He bucked slightly, couldn’t help it. Holy shit, those big, steady hands felt good. Hannibal wasn’t over-stimulating him - just kissing his skin again, across his shoulders, along his jaw, his other hand slowly teasing a nipple - but each point of contact felt like white heat across his skin, made him feel strangely weightless - like he was flying, except mostly naked. Hannibal instinctively found all the right places, kissed and stroked and nipped exactly where it was needed the most. What the fuck was that? How was the boss doing that?
Face caught his eye and winked at him. “Fucking amazing, isn’t it?” He leaned forward and kissed Murdock again, much more gently this time, tongues sliding against each other, sharing air, sharing everything. “He can get you to do anything with that little trick.”
Murdock nodded. Oh god yes. He’d do anything Hannibal asked right now. Was this the same way Hannibal got them to follow orders? By exerting this... this dominance, this casual power? Of course it was. Or some of it was, anyway. Murdock had simply never felt it so up close and personal before.
Hannibal chuckled and shook his head. “We’ve got a rule, HM, when we bring guests into our bed. You can have anything you want, but it works on equivalent exchange. You have to earn it. So, tell me what you want.”
Murdock didn’t have to think about it. He growled low in his throat, locked eyes with the former Lieutenant. “I want to fuck Face.”
Face’s grin widened. “Like the man said, you gotta earn it, and you won’t be able to-”
“No, kid,” said Hannibal, gently but firmly. “He gets to fuck you. But afterwards, he will earn it.” Hannibal bucked his hips gently, rubbing his cock against Murdock’s ass. It didn’t need any more spelling out than that. “Okay, boys?”
No one answered verbally; Face surged forward again, wrapping his arms around Murdock - who was still distracted by the solid bulge pressing against his ass - and pulled him away from Hannibal. Boss went to the drawer of the bedside cabinet, while Murdock found his wits again and pushed Face down onto the bed. Face went easily this time - he’s under orders, Murdock thought, with a thrill - and Murdock slid on top of him, running his hands over hot skin and firm muscles, finally able to touch however he liked. Face might have gone down without a fight, but he wasn’t about to lie there helplessly. His hands went straight for Murdock’s boxers, shoving them down and off, and gripping his ass, pulling Murdock down against him and thrusting his hips up, rubbing their cocks together. They moaned in unison, Murdock sinking his teeth into Face’s shoulder instinctively, to stifle the sound, even though there was no one else likely to hear besides BA, and the likelihood of BA giving a fuck was negligible.
Murdock had always been a biter, but most people tended to object. Face, however, threw his head back and groaned wantonly. Hannibal looked up from his task and made a gesture - a little higher. Murdock obliged, biting down where Face’s shoulder became his neck, and that earned him a hoarse cry and a “Fuckyes, HM!”
Hannibal grinned and came back to the bed, dropping the bottle of lube just out of Murdock’s reach. Was there anywhere, he wondered, where Hannibal didn’t have to be in charge? Not that he minded. It gave him a little thrill of anticipation, in fact, for what would come later. For now, Hannibal lay on his side next to his boys, took one of Murdock’s hands in his own, guided it down, and showed Murdock how Face liked to be stroked. Face didn’t waste time - he was hard and needy already. Hannibal and Murdock took their time with him, drawing him out with long, slow strokes, a thumb rubbing lightly over the head, against the slit, and then without warning, faster and harder. After a while Hannibal let Murdock’s hand go and moved back behind him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hannibal reaching for the lube.
Murdock kissed Face again, laughing as Face came up to meet him, hands in his hair. His friend had, apparently, been wanting this for a while. Hannibal’s hands gripped Murdock’s hips, easing him back into the boss’ lap again, and Face let himself fall back on the bed, taking in the view. Murdock turned his head to kiss Hannibal’s throat. He hadn’t kissed the boss yet, and he wanted to, badly, but he’d have to wait. Instead, he flicked his tongue out, tasting skin. Oh god, Hannibal tasted good...
“I wish you two could see yourselves,” Face drawled, voice hoarse with lust. “We should so put a mirror over the bed.”
“No,” said Hannibal. “I told you, leave the decor as it is.”
“We don’t live here, remember? And besides, if-”
Murdock was too busy listening to Hannibal’s voice and nuzzling at his neck to notice the boss squeezing lubricant onto his hand. He jumped when Hannibal stroked his cock, his hand slick and strong, his fingers instinctively curling just right around Murdock’s length, the perfect pressure, the perfect speed as his hand moved steadily up.
“Hannibal!” Murdock yelped, hips jerking helplessly against that hand.
Hannibal chuckled, deep in his throat. “You can call me John, if you’re going to share my bed.”
“Our bed,” said Face.
“Whoever owns this house’s bed,” said Murdock.
“I suppose you’re right. Now, Face likes it a little rough. You up for that?”
Hell yes, he was up for it. He let Hannibal stroke him a couple more times, slicking him up, before moving back towards Face, crawling up the length of his body to kiss him. Face’s legs came up to wrap around his waist, and Hannibal, watchful as ever, pulled over a pillow to wedge under Face’s ass, tilting him to just the right angle. Part of Murdock’s mind was reeling with disbelief. He was here, where he’d secretly longed to be, doing what he could hardly even admit to himself he’d ever wanted to do. Face beneath him, pulling him down, making needy little noises, ready for him. And Hannibal encouraging it. Hannibal waiting for his turn...
But when he pushed inside of Face, his cock sliding through that grasping ring of muscle, he knew he couldn’t still be asleep and dreaming it. Nothing before had ever felt this real, not even flying.
Face’s body took him easily - he was still, it occurred to Murdock, slick from his exertions with Hannibal the previous night, and his mind filled with images of Hannibal pinning Face down and fucking him, making love to him, stroking him just as he’d shown Murdock, and he promised himself he’d get to watch that for real. Somehow. Wherever this morning was going in terms of their friendship, it couldn’t be a bad place, right?
Face leaned up and kissed him, bucking his hips, encouraging him to push all the way in, and Murdock obliged, pressing forwards until their hips were flush together, their cocks trapped together between them. Ohgod, Face was beautiful. Not just superficially, but every little movement he made was perfectly calibrated to bring them pleasure, from the clenching of his thighs, the rolling of his hips, the stroking of his hands across Murdock’s back, right down to the way their chests rubbed together and the gentle brush of Face’s foot against the back of Murdock’s knee.
Hannibal was beside them again, legs spread, his hand down his own shorts - and why the hell was he still wearing them, that’s what Murdock wanted to know. He’d ask, if he could stop kissing Face for half a second, but he couldn’t. They were engaged in another little battle, Murdock determined not to give in to Face’s talented tongue but sorely tempted to let go and enjoy it. Hannibal seemed to recognise his predicament, because he laid his hand on Murdock’s shoulder.
“Let him,” the Colonel advised. “You’ve got all the real control anyway.”
So he had. And when Murdock stopped rolling his hips and began to really thrust, Face was forced to break the kiss anyway, head falling back, mouth falling open in a wanton scream.
“So fucking beautiful,” Hannibal breathed.
“Yeah,” Murdock agreed, “he really is, ain’t he?”
Hannibal stroked a hand down Murdock’s neck, fingers tracing his spine, as far as Hannibal could reach from that position. “I meant you, son.”
He leaned in and kissed Murdock, all too fleetingly before moving back again, and Murdock’s attention was drawn back to Face, who was getting a little desperate.
“Please,” Face moaned, nails digging into Murdock’s shoulders, “please fuck me, please!”
“Rough, right, Face? You’ll tell me when it’s too much?”
“If you can give him too much,” Hannibal drawled, “I resign and he’s all yours.”
Murdock laughed and nuzzled at Face’s neck, nipping again with his teeth, as he built up their rhythm. Face was so tight around him, so hot and responsive, always trying to push up off the bed, rubbing against him and moaning like he was in heat. Once or twice, Hannibal reached out to press him down against the sheets, for which Murdock was grateful; he got the impression Hannibal was practiced enough - tall and strong enough - to hold Face down while keeping up their rhythm, but Murdock? He needed to focus on one thing right now. Had to give Face everything he needed.
Face’s whimpers turned to rough shouts as Murdock drove into him faster, harder. Hands braced either side of Face’s head, his friend’s legs clamped tight around his waist, Murdock found he could push Face’s hips up and use both of their weight and momentum to push deeper and still keep up the pace. Face was doing something, clenching inside, and that grasping heat seemed to pull him in, impossible to resist, so much like freefalling, like seeing the world for real after forever in the dark. Then Hannibal sat up suddenly, put a hand on Murdock’s back, guiding him, adjusting their angle slightly, and -
“Oh fuckfuckfuck!” Face thrashed and bucked beneath Murdock, who laughed delightedly. “Yes, god yes! That’s it, right there, come on, buddy, faster!”
Faster, Murdock could always manage. He heard an appreciative chuckle from the boss as he picked up the pace, kept the angle, drove Face into a panting, whining, incoherent mass. Face was close, he could tell, and he needed to see it, needed to see his friend come now. He kissed Face again, pulled away from those delicious lips to nip his jaw, his throat, finally kissing that red mark he’d left on Face’s shoulder. Face whined, and Murdock grinned, briefly, before biting down.
Face lost it. He tensed then fell apart, fresh heat striping across Murdock’s stomach as tight muscles clamped around his length, but it was the completely feral sounds Face made that took Murdock over the edge with him. Sounds Murdock had only ever heard muffled through a wall before, and which he was now responsible for drawing out of Face. His hips jerked, his hands clenched on Face’s arms, eyes scrunched shut as he howled through his release.
Face instantly went into limpet mode and clung onto Murdock as they came down from the high together. Lips found each other again, but there was no struggle for control this time, just long, leisurely kisses, drawing out their recovery time with the desperate need for oxygen, but Murdock’s need to hold onto Face overruled that. How long had he waited for this? Eight years? More than that now. He could remember all too clearly the sinking feeling when he realised, all that time ago, that Face belonged to Hannibal, and... he shook himself. That didn’t matter now, did it? Or did it?
“Boss?” he murmured, pushing himself away from the warmth of Face’s chest. He shuddered as they came apart, wishing he didn’t have to withdraw at all, but smiled when he saw Face relax back into the pillows, calm and satisfied and sleepy.
“Right here.” Hannibal reached out, first, to Face. Their fingers slid together, and Face leaned up to meet him in a kiss, reaffirming their bond. Murdock sat back on the bed, putting a little distance between them, enough that he couldn’t make out a word Hannibal whispered to Face, or determine anything about Face’s short response - although both were smiling. And then Hannibal lounged back, and grinned at Murdock.
“What’re you doing over there?”
“Wasn’t sure if I was-”
“You’re always welcome,” said Face, beckoning him back. “Besides, we’ve got to take care of Hannibal yet.”
As Murdock settled back between them, Hannibal squeezed his shoulder gently.
“Not unless you want to,” he said.
“But you got that rule - and it’s only fair, I should-”
“No, the rule is for guests,” Hannibal explained. “We’d like to you to stay. We’ve... actually talked about this before.” He glanced at Face, who nodded confirmation. “It’s an open invitation. You can think about it if this is too sudden.”
Murdock stared at him. Too sudden? It was a bit left field, but did he really need to think? It was a big thing to ask them to make room in their relationship for him. But he’d never asked, had he? It was their idea. They wanted him. His breathing started to quicken, and he guessed he must have looked panicky because Face instantly wrapped around him, hugging him from behind. Hannibal, on the other hand, shifted away - giving him space, of course, but Murdock shot out a hand and grabbed his wrist, suddenly afraid that Hannibal had changed his mind. He tugged Hannibal back down beside him and leaned in, letting his fingers rest hesitantly on Hannibal’s cheek. Opened his mouth to explain how he felt, then closed it again.
“Wow,” Face breathed. “I think we’ve rendered him speechless.”
Murdock grinned. “Kinda, yeah. I don’t need to think, though. My subconscious marched me right in here for a reason, and I’m real glad it did.”
He swung a leg over Hannibal’s hips and pressed himself up against the lounging Colonel. Hannibal’s hands automatically went for Murdock’s ass, pulling them close. Murdock couldn’t suppress his moan at the solid feel of Hannibal’s hard cock beneath him, the two of them still separated by Hannibal’s shorts, and Hannibal, his control finally snapping, grabbed the back of Murdock’s head and pulled him down for a long, deep kiss. Murdock’s lips parted for him instinctively, letting him in. He felt himself go weak as Hannibal ran strong hands across his shoulders, down his arms, stroking his back, his chest, rubbing the pad of his thumb across Murdock’s nipple. The pilot let out a needy moan, bucked his hips, and Hannibal chuckled. He ducked his head to nuzzle at Murdock’s throat, kissing and nipping, still rubbing that nipple and slowly rolling his hips up. It was all far too much for Murdock - half-hard already, writhing on top of Hannibal like a feline in heat, he didn’t give a flying fuck how he looked. He needed the boss, needed him now.
His hands went to Hannibal’s shorts, trying and failing to shove them down while at the same time trying to roll over and pull Hannibal with him. The boss resisted, grinned up at him.
“Fancy giving us a hand?”
Face didn’t need any more instructions than that, leaving Murdock wondering - faintly - how many times his new lovers had done this with someone else. Face slid up behind Murdock in a reversal of his and Hannibal’s earlier positions, stroked his shoulders and back in a recognisable imitation of Hannibal’s mannerisms. How long had the two been together? Ten years? More? They certainly communicated with an ease Murdock had noticed but never really appreciated during missions and jobs - but he appreciated it now. He had no idea what Face was up to, but his friend needed no further guidance from Hannibal, who was completely relaxed beneath Murdock, a lopsided grin plastered across his face as he gently stroked Murdock’s thighs, watching as Face drew Murdock back into his arms. Hannibal’s hands roamed, finding Face’s calf and ticking gently, and it occurred to Murdock that Hannibal might be the boss even in the bedroom, but Face was usually the centre of attention. He wondered how he fit into that, but as Face pressed kisses to the back of his neck, and Hannibal withdrew his hands, lying back to watch, it occurred to him that these two already had it figured out.
“You done much of this before?” Face asked, hands sliding down Murdock’s side, tracing muscle, teasing ticklish ribs. “With guys, I mean?”
Murdock shrugged. “Not lately. First the army, then being locked up, then on the run... Actually wait - army, locked up, then army again, then locked up again, then on the run. No, wait-”
“Shh,” Face soothed, holding him closer for a moment. “Just relax, buddy. That’s the most important part.”
He dropped his hands to Hannibal’s shorts again, tugging at the waistband, the Colonel lying back and declining to help him out. But this time, he managed to tug them down, and got a hand around Hannibal’s solid length, pulling it out into the warm air of the bedroom, stroking firmly. He grinned in triumph as Hannibal’s eyes rolled back and he moaned.
Murdock tried to shuffle forwards, but Face had a firm grip on his hips. Much as he loved Facey, Murdock wasn’t letting him get his way, not now.
“Wanna taste,” he protested.
Face glanced at Hannibal, who nodded. “But hurry, boys. Not in the mood for lingering this morning.”
Murdock dropped forwards, shuffling away from Face and shoving Hannibal’s legs apart. For once, the Colonel decided to co-operate, kicking off his shorts and sliding his hands into Murdock’s hair as he slid into position, propped up on his elbows, one hand gripping Hannibal again, his mouth coming down on the Colonel’s hip, kissing softy, resisting the urge to nip. He had no idea how Hannibal would respond to that.
Behind him, Face grabbed his hips again. “Keep your ass up for me, buddy. That’s it.”
“Little bossy, ain’t you, Facey?” Murdock murmured, brushing his lips reverently against Hannibal’s thigh. A frustrated growl rose up, somewhere in the region of the pillows.
Face responded to that by ducking his head and, without any kind of warning, ran his tongue in a wet stripe between Murdock’s cheeks. The pilot yelped softly, but it melted into a contented purr as Face did it again, more slowly. The Colonel, however, was less impressed.
“You going to suck me or what, Captain?”
“Better get on that,” Face advised.
“You’re slacking too, kid,” Hannibal growled. “Get him ready.”
Murdock found himself with two things to focus on now, but Hannibal had been patient and generous, so he moved his hand, stroking Hannibal slowly, pulling his cock towards his mouth. He’d always imagined the Colonel as demanding, challenging, difficult to please, but in reality he was almost as responsive as Face, making little sounds of enjoyment at every touch. When Murdock’s tongue flicked against the underside of his cock, Hannibal gasped with pleasure, lifted his leg to rub against Murdock’s side in encouragement. Murdock brushed his lips against the head, letting his tongue flick out, teasing the sensitive flesh, until Hannibal’s throaty moans became frustrated growls once again. Probably getting close to kick-in-the-ribs time, so he wrapped one fist around the base of Hannibal’s cock and pulled the head back into his mouth, pulsating his tongue, sliding as much of Hannibal as he could past his teeth. Hannibal breathed out a hellyes, and Murdock chuckled, drawing out another pleasured moan.
But his focus was definitely divided. It was hard to ignore Face teasing him from behind, tonguing his balls one minute, kissing the backs of his knees the next, then that talented mouth was once more at his entrance, tongue pressed flat against him, applying pressure but not penetrating. Testing him? Murdock wasn't sure how to convey his pleasure with a mouth full of Hannibal, so he gave a little wiggle and hoped that it carried the message across.
Apparently, it did, because Face moved back for a moment, and tapped Murdock on the hip.
“Hey, nipper. Want you and your teeth off him for this.”
He’d barely had time to release Hannibal when Face’s tongue was back against him, not flat this time but pointed, and pushing into him. Holy shit, it had been a long time since he’d felt that. Face and his long tongue were ridiculously talented, teasing and lapping, then pushing in again, pressing up, working him open. Hannibal pushed himself up off the pillows, took Murdock’s face in his hands, and kissed him, deep and sensual, tongue plunging in and mimicking Face’s motions - fucking hell, they were so in sync that Face’s inward thrusts often matched up with Hannibal’s tongue flickering against the roof of Murdock’s mouth. He started to feel a little bit afraid of just how good this felt, having his friends lavish all this attention on him - what if they found his resonant frequency and he fell apart in their arms, fractured into a million little pieces? Could happen. Horrible way to end this.
And then Face’s tongue was gone completely. Hannibal, though, did not stop kissing him. Pulled him up in strong arms, rolled them both onto their sides, face-to-face, and hooked one of Murdock’s legs right up over his hip. Murdock bucked against him, but Hannibal held him still, and Face was back again with the lubricant tube, squeezing some out before he vanished from sight behind Murdock.
“Gonna need you nice and wet,” Face said, running slick fingers down Murdock’s spine, gliding them over his entrance. Once again, he couldn’t respond, Hannibal dominating his mouth, chasing his tongue, hands all over him, so he just moaned, bucking his hips again. He was hard already, cock tucked tight against Hannibal’s, trapped between them. And Face finally stopped his teasing and pressed one finger gently, slowly inside.
Murdock broke the kiss and whimpered, Hannibal instantly gripping him, stilling him, making eye contact.
Murdock beamed at him, delighted at the concern, as needless as it was. “Yeah, baby, I’m a Ranger, remember? Gimmie everything, I can take it, c’mon!”
“You’re a nut,” Face laughed, but pressed that finger in a little more. It felt strange and familiar, threw him back a good few years, to the last time he’d trusted anyone enough to let them do this to him. He certainly didn’t remember it feeling this good. His inner muscles, however, clenched around Face, who pressed his lips to the back of Murdock’s neck and murmured nonsensical soothing words.
“More, Face. C’mon. That’s an order, Lieutenant!”
Face snorted. “Who’s the XO around here?”
“I still outrank you, right, boss?”
Hannibal was chuckling. “That old argument? Now?” He winked at Murdock, kissed him on the nose. “I think you’d better do as the Captain says, huh, Face? Give him more.”
Face’s finger pushed deeper inside him, sparking off nerves, making Murdock’s whole body shiver. He felt himself relax, accepting Face, and as soon as that happened the finger withdrew. , and then two fingers were pressing inside. He let his head fall to Hannibal’s chest, bracing himself, remembering Face’s instructions to relax. Face pushed in as far as those two fingers would go, pulled out, pushed in again, letting him adjust before gently, slowly, scissoring his fingers apart.
“Curl ‘em, Face,” Hannibal murmured, his lips pressed against Murdock’s throat. “Now, kid.”
Face followed orders, curled his fingers and stroking Murdock, his whole wrist twisting until he brushed against the spot that sent a wave of pleasure flooding through Murdock’s body. He shuddered, his cock twitching, hardening, which made Hannibal’s grin widen. Hannibal’s hand slipped down between them, taking hold of them both and stroking as Face’s intuition kicked in and he set up a rhythm of stroking and scissoring, easing Murdock and stretching him open. Two things to focus on wasn’t so bad when he didn’t have to do anything, and he bucked into Hannibal’s hand every time Face’s fingers withdrew, pushed back against Face on every inward thrust, and then, without warning, Face was applying more slick and a third finger.
As good as this was, as good as Face felt, it wasn’t enough any more. Murdock wriggled his hips, trying to free himself.
“Need you, boss. Need you now, come on, fellas, now!”
“All right,” Hannibal growled, “hope you’ve done a good job, Face. Don’t think either of us can wait any longer.”
Face’s fingers withdrew, leaving Murdock with a frightening sense of emptiness. He grabbed hold of Hannibal’s arm and rolled them both over, pulling Hannibal down on top of him and kissing him again, hungry and more than a little desperate. Face was still right there with them, arms around Hannibal’s waist, mouth against the boss’ ear as Hannibal pressed Murdock down into the mattress with a growl.
“Careful, boss. Easy. Wait up.”
Face’s hand slid between them and stroked Hannibal’s cock, slicking him up as best he could before Hannibal shrugged him off. His attention was focused entirely on Murdock, those steel-blue eyes intent, pupils blown with lust. That intense gaze was exactly what had drawn Murdock to Hannibal in the first place, made him want to impress the scruffy Colonel with the batshit buddies who’d crashed through that Mexican hospital like a complaining, grumbling, bad-tempered tornado and swept Murdock along with them. Here and now, it turned Murdock to liquid, that gaze.
“Like this,” he urged, hands sliding down to grab Hannibal’s ass. “Come on, bossman, I’m dying here, please.”
Face shook his head, grinning. “He likes hearing you beg. More you beg, the longer he draws it out.”
“Not today,” Hannibal muttered, pulling Murdock’s legs up around him, eyes locked with Murdock’s as he mounted him, cock right against Murdock’s hole, but pausing just for a moment, locking eyes with him. The Colonel always was a little protective of him, Murdock mused. Probably a result of having to stand his ground against doctors and Generals alike to keep Murdock on the team. He stroked his hands through Hannibal’s hair, holding him close, afraid for the first time ever that Hannibal would change his mind about him.
But then Hannibal dropped his head to Murdock’s shoulder and thrust into him, the pressure far more intense than Face’s fingers from the very first. Murdock shut his eyes and clung to Hannibal as they came together, taking it far more slowly than he had with Face. Hannibal was bigger than Murdock was used to, and after so long... but that wasn’t the problem. Hannibal was still hung up about Murdock wanting him. It was easy to assume Hannibal had no insecurities whatsoever, but there was something here, beneath the surface. A glance at Face suggested that it wasn’t new; the Lieutenant’s eyebrows twitched, and his hand came down to stroke Hannibal’s shoulder.
“It’s good, boss,” Murdock encouraged. “You feel real good.”
“So do you, son,” Hannibal murmured, hips bucking shallowly, teeth grazing Murdock’s throat. “So good, so tight...”
“I can take it, like I told you. Come on, boss, I want all of you, I need you, c’mon, baby...” His voice died away as Hannibal - finally - pushed all the way in, their hips coming together, Murdock feeling as though some undefinable thing was hurtling unavoidably towards him, but he shook it off, hitched his knees up and stroked Hannibal’s hair.
“Holy fuck,” Face breathed, lying down beside them again. “You two are just... I’m never gonna get tired of watching this. Just saying.”
Face’s words and Murdock’s hands roaming across his body were all Hannibal needed to find himself a slow rhythm, and Murdock, for all his proclamations of being able to take it, was grateful for the easy start. He wasn’t used to bottoming for anyone, was still surprised by the ease with which he’d rolled over for Hannibal, and as much as he needed release again - as much as he wanted to see Hannibal come - his body still had to adjust. Hannibal held his thighs as far apart as possible, and Face didn’t need more than a fleeting glance from his lover to send him reaching for the lube, squeezing out the last of it and reaching between them. Murdock moaned gratefully as Hannibal slid into him more easily with every thrust, allowing the boss to pick up some speed. Face gave them space again, kneeling beside them, fisting his cock in time with Hannibal’s rhythm.
Murdock concentrated on trying to find the spots that made Hannibal go all weak - everyone had weak spots, even ancient Greek heroes, so the boss probably did too. He slid his hands up Hannibal’s chest, teasing his nipples, which earned him a heated moan and a good, hard thrust right against his prostate. Murdock howled, and Hannibal smiled for the first time in several minutes, his face splitting into a pleasured grin as Murdock licked his own finger and went back to stroking and tugging at one of his nipples. But that was all a ruse. Murdock flashed back to all the times he’d seen Hannibal and Face snuggling or kissing, and - yes, there it was, the thing Face always did, the thing that had to be Hannibal’s weakness. He slid his free hand back into Hannibal’s hair, snaked it down and around and then rubbed the pad of his thumb very lightly against Hannibal’s ear lobe.
The reaction was instantaneous; Hannibal dropped against him, nuzzling into his neck, rubbing their bodies together, grinding down against Murdock’s cock and rutting into him, faster and harder, all at once. Face laughed, white teeth flashing, and he arched his body back as he tugged at his own cock, putting himself on display for them as some kind of typically narcissistic reward for figuring it out. Hannibal wasn’t looking. His breath was hot against Murdock’s skin, his mouth open, and Murdock felt teeth clamp down around that curve where shoulder met neck, not biting hard, not marking him, but holding him - ohfuck, claiming him. That was too much for Murdock. He needed more, needed it now, and his hands grabbed for Hannibal’s ass, trying to drive him deeper.
Not that Hannibal needed anything more in the way of encouragement. He pulled Murdock hard against him, fucking him unreservedly, and Murdock tried to think what had felt good when he was buried inside Face, the way Face had clenched around him. Could he do that? He tried, squeezing his muscles, and Hannibal whined, biting down harder, pulling a fresh burst of speed from somewhere. Hannibal slipped a hand between them, rolling and squeezing Murdock’s balls, moving to his cock to stroke him hard and fast. Murdock felt another howl rising up in his belly, felt himself nearing his second climax, but this feeling, being held down by Hannibal, being fucked by him, was simply amazing, and - just in case it never happened again - he wanted to draw it out for as long as possible.
Face was unable to keep his mouth shut for more than three or four minutes at a time, and had been murmuring incoherent nonsense in encouragement, but now Murdock focused on the words, forcing himself to hold on for Hannibal while trying the clenching thing again. Hannibal’s strangled laugh was a good indicator that he approved of that little move. Face did too, apparently.
“You’ve got him, HM,” he breathed, “look at him, you fucking own him, man, you’re the one in control of this, bring him over, HM, wanna see him come inside you...”
“Not... helping,” Murdock gasped. “Oh god, oh god, boss. Need to bring you off first. Let me go-”
Hannibal’s lips landed on his, silencing him. But he did let go of Murdock’s cock and pushed himself up, bracing himself with his arms either side of Murdock’s head, trying to get a bit more leverage, and - ohgodyes - he was finally hitting Murdock’s prostate on every single thrust. That howl broke free, but Murdock managed to hold back his orgasm - he really wanted to see Hannibal come first. What the hell could he do?
Beside them, Face threw his head back and moaned, his hand working fast as he lost it for the second time, spilling over his own fist, hot semen spurting as far as the couple in front of him, painting a stripe across Hannibal’s arm and the bed between them. The boss’s only response to it was a small shudder, but it inspired two thoughts in Murdock, the first of which was not fair. It was most definitely Hannibal’s turn now.
He swiped his fingers down Hannibal’s arm, cleaning up Face’s mess, and then his hands went back to Hannibal’s ass under the pretense of pulling him in harder. But he slid those semen-slicked fingers further, rubbing against Hannibal’s hole, and that earned him another frantic whine and a bite to the jaw. He rubbed against that tight ring of muscle, harder, following the rhythm of their thrusts, before pushing two fingertips just inside.
“Fuckyes!” Hannibal snarled, dropping his head to Murdock’s shoulder again. “You clever little - ohgodMurdockyes!”
Hannibal’s moans faded to incoherency as Murdock worked his fingers in and out, so that every time Hannibal was withdrawing from him, he was getting fucked himself. There wasn’t enough slick to go deep or add another finger, but Hannibal didn’t actually seem to care, content to fuck himself on Murdock’s hand, Face watching them wide-eyed and slack-jawed for a long moment before he darted forward and added a little pressure to Murdock’s hand, helping him with the angle.
And then it was Hannibal’s turn to howl, but his had rather more snarl to it, and his grip on Murdock’s thighs became vice-like. Murdock watched in delight as Hannibal shuddered apart, his thrusts fast and erratic, and Murdock’s insides filled with the most delicious heat. The pilot bucked up against his Colonel, bringing those clenching muscles back into play and coaxing his orgasm out as long as possible.
And then Hannibal was trying to roll off him. Murdock was not going to have any of that, and kept his legs wrapped around Hannibal, pulling him close, holding him as he came down and caught his breath. He ran his hands over sweat-slick skin, up Hannibal’s back, across his shoulders, finally pulling his head down for a kiss. Hannibal chuckled contentedly against Murdock’s lips, kissing him again before he became insistent in his attempts to pull away. Murdock let him go, felt him pull out with a whimper at the loss.
But the Boss hadn’t forgotten Murdock. He settled in beside the pilot and pulled Face against his other side. Then two hands were moving over Murdock’s skin. Hannibal went straight for his cock, finding the same pace they’d set together, while Face’s arm slipped under Hannibal’s and his fingers teased at Murdock’s nipple - but only for a moment, before they brushed his collar bone, traced his abs, stroked across hip and thigh, stimulating every inch of skin he could reach, and between them they worked Murdock back into a whimpering, needy frenzy.
It was never going to last long, but when Face cupped Murdock’s balls, palming them, gently rolling in time with Hannibal’s strokes, he was finished. He didn’t know which of their names he shouted when he came, but it was definitely one of them - or both, maybe in some weird hybrid word, because when he came back to himself, panting for breath and stomach streaked with his own release, he found Face and Hannibal laughing, holding each other, holding him, Hannibal’s arm loose across his waist and Face rubbing his thigh soothingly. Face had a leg hooked over Hannibal’s hips, his crotch pressed against Hannibal’s ass, and even in his freshly post-orgasmic state, Murdock remembered his earlier curiosity.
“So you do like to be fucked, Boss?”
Hannibal chuckled. “Sometimes.”
“On his birthday,” Face supplied. “Which means he’s taken it up the ass approximately eighty-four times.”
Hannibal rose to the bait, turning so fast Murdock jumped, and wrestled Face down onto the bed. Face didn’t stand a chance - neither of them ever had, Murdock reflected - and Hannibal had him pinned face-down in seconds.
“Okay, I’m sorry!” Face yelped, voice muffled by the pillow. “I’m sorry, you’re not old! Murdock, help me here!”
Murdock grinned and pulled the covers up around himself. “Uh-uh. I just sleepwalked in here by accident, I’m gonna mind my own business over here - oh look, a nice book to read...” He grabbed Hannibal’s current novel off the nightstand and flicked through it while watching the two over the top.
“Beg for it,” Hannibal growled.
“What? Okay, okay, you’re amazing, you’re smart and fast and strong and not remotely old and - oh fuck, Hannibal, I’m getting a boner again.”
Hannibal laughed and sat on Face’s back. He winked at Murdock. “You all right, Captain?”
Murdock put his head on one side. “I’m going to need a shower real soon. Nice as it was at the time, Boss? I’m all sticky now. Like a Face-and-Hannibal flavoured popsicle”
“I meant...” Hannibal waved a hand between them all. “Are you all right with this? It’s not going to be...?”
“Weird? No, sir.”
“We’re doing it again,” said Face, voice still muffled. “Just so you know.”
“If you want,” Hannibal amended. “HM. Do you still want-”
Murdock threw the book over his shoulder and launched himself at Hannibal. They fell backwards onto the bed, Murdock clinging to the Colonel, Hannibal laughing, sprawled out beneath him, and Face finally able to wriggle out from under Hannibal’s legs. He crawled up beside Murdock and plastered himself against his side, demonstrating that, yes, he was half-hard yet again. Now Murdock was the filling in a Hannibal-Face sandwich. He nuzzled at Hannibal’s chest, inhaling the scent of his new lover, rubbing his nose against firm muscle and sparse hair.
“I love you guys,” he admitted, a little hesitantly.
Hannibal let out something between a laugh and a sigh of relief. “Oh good. That’s good. Right, Face?”
“What he means,” Face purred, placing kisses all along Murdock’s jaw, “is we love you too. We both do.”
There wasn’t anything he could add to that, not verbally, so he kissed Hannibal again, then grabbed Face by the arm and tugged him upright.
“Shower time, Facey. Wanna scrub my back?”
Face was up and out of the bed like a shot. “I’ll get my loofah! You coming, boss?”
They paused in the doorway, Murdock’s pulse pounding in his ears like it did when he’d just pulled off a beautiful but potentially deadly maneuver in mid-air. And there was that hurtling feeling he’d shrugged off earlier, but slower now, smoother, like something falling into place. Like the satisfaction of clicking home the final piece of a jigsaw puzzle.
Hannibal shook his head. “It’s a small shower, I’ll go after. You two have fun.”
Face darted into the bathroom, with Murdock hot on his heels.
“He’s fine,” Face assured, wiggling his butt in the air as he leaned over to adjust the controls of the shower. “He’s more than fine, babe - his plan came together with barely any effort. In fact, it just sleepwalked itself together.” Face shot him a grin as he found the right temperature, and adjusted the spray how he liked it.
Murdock glanced back towards the bedroom, but Boss did have a point. It was quite a small shower. He and Face were going to have to stand very, very close together indeed. And maybe, tomorrow morning, it would be his turn to scrub Hannibal’s back.