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Boys Will Be Boys

Boys Will Be Boys

Rating: PWP, so NC-17
Comments: I'm a comment whore.
A continuation of "The Games Men Play"


Hannibal walked in the basement, noticing the air hockey table was still humming. He walked over, bending at the waist to pull the plug when he felt someone step behind him.

"Care for a game?" Hannibal grinned, standing, looking into dark brown eyes. He picked up a paddle and smiled, that smile that told everyone he was on the jazz. "I don't know....think you can take me?"

Two large hands grabbed his shoulders, pushing him against the wall. Right before the larger man's mouth covered his, B.A. muttered, "Glad the crazy fool talked us into getting this table. Never knew Air Hockey was so...exciting."

Hannibal moaned as B.A. kissed him. He never got tired of being dominated by this man. On a mission, everyone knew who was in charge, but in the bedroom, it was all B.A. Hannibal smiled as they shared a mind melting kiss.

The air-hockey table creaked as B.A. sat Hannibal onto it. He knew what was to be done. Strand by strand the gold came off, laid to the side as gently as if they were made of glass. No one, not even his lover, had permission to dishonor his jewelry.

Once each piece was taken care of, Hannibal began to disrobe the massive body of the man before him. He knew B.A. was to be taken care of before his release was even considered. Once the broad chest was uncovered, Hannibal began raining kisses along the hard muscles. The hands that removed his tan jacket were all the encouragement he needed.

His kisses moved further south as he felt the shirt being slipped from his shoulders. When had B.A. unbuttoned it? Well, that was a dumb question. Who cared? All he knew was soon, he was going to feel that hard, smooth, soft skin against his.

He felt pressure against his shoulders and looked up, smiling as he saw the look in those eyes. He let himself be pushed back, let B.A. take control. His boots were pulled off and his socks stuffed into them. His black pants were next, along with the white underwear that had become increasingly tight with the looks and caresses from B.A.

His undershirt was next. Soft touches along the hem, then kisses as it was lifted, taken off and thrown to who knows where. That's when it all stopped. He opened his eyes and saw his lover looking at him, taking in his body. He felt himself getting harder, if that was possible. B.A. nodded, pleased with what he saw. His hands went to his belt, and soon, he was as naked as Hannibal, standing between the quivering legs of his commanding officer.

He started kisses above the soft hair around the throbbing erection that he knew was for him. His large hands ran over the smooth white skin that he knew so well. Before long, he was looking into those steel blue eyes he loved so much. The eyes he had fallen in love with in Vietnam, the eyes that had given him so much strength during the hard times, the eyes that watched over them all, no matter what.

He smiled as he felt Hannibal's legs wrap around his waist, and his hands gently caressed the skin of his hips while they tasted each other. B.A. pulled back, panting. "Can't hold back much longer. Need you baby."

Hannibal looked up, nodding. His face was flushed with passion, his eyes dark. He looked and saw Face's jacket, knowing he always carried lube for just such an occasion. He snagged the jacket, managing to keep his legs firmly around B.A.'s waist.

B.A. giggled, taking the tube from him. "Leave it to the Faceman to always be prepared." Hannibal smiled, grinding against B.A. until the larger man looked down at him in warning. "I didn't make him supply officer for nothing, you know."

B.A. smiled again, only letting his hands leave Hannibal long enough to unscrew the cap. His well practiced fingers moved into Hannibal slowly as he watched his face. This was one of the things he liked most. Hannibal wasn't Hannibal right now, he was a man with needs. A man that didn't hide behind a calm exterior. He was just John, plain, ordinary John, and B.A. was just plain, ordinary Bosco, pleasing the man he loved with all his heart. He smiled at the look of absolute ecstasy on John's face.

Hannibal looked up, seeing B.A. watching. He knew B.A. watched him sleep sometimes. He also knew B.A. liked to watch as he entered him. Hannibal made eye contact and held it, even when the feelings started to overwhelm him.

He started pushing down against the intruding finger, feeling another, then another, preparing him to be taken. The twisting and stretching was more than he could take. He cried out, his eyes finally closing, calling out, begging to be taken.

B.A. smiled, gently removing his fingers, then using the lube to coat himself. He shifted, pulling Hannibal closer, brushing against him.

Hannibal's hands went up, caressing his beard, his face and the smooth shaven parts of his head. B.A. moaned, lifting one leg over his shoulder, opening Hannibal to him. He gently, oh so gently,
pushed into him, feeling the resistance.

Hannibal let his fingers tighten in the short hair of the mohawk as he was entered. He felt the long, thick shaft finally come to rest, the throbbing rocking him straight to the core of his being. His eyes
opened again, blue meeting brown, both dark with passion. The kisses started again, tongue on tongue, breathing matching breathing.

The rhythm was the same as it always was. Slow and gentle at first, but then faster and harder the more turned on they became. The air from the table blew over them, cooling their heated skin, only to have it heated up again. Breaths became shallow, voices strained, words of love and devotion called back and forth. The smell of musk, sweat and sex filling the air.

B.A. kept his movement fast as he leaned back, looking down at the man beneath him. All the power, all the leadership, all the control in this Team was there. Yet, he gave it all to B.A. There was never a question of trust during these times. Hannibal let him lead, let him take him, all without question. He attacked the older man's mouth again, trying to convey to him how much he loved him, how much he needed him, and how much he truly loved him.

Hannibal felt the unmistakable tightening in his stomach. He tightened automatically, pulling B.A. deeper into him, the feeling of him against that secret center of pleasure was almost to much. His
back arched, his body shook, he screamed, as he coated each of their stomachs with his release. He held B.A. tightly, with his arms, legs and with his body.

B.A. felt the release against him, and moaned, his face finding the crook of Hannibal's shoulder, kissing at the soft skin there. The quivering of his lover's body around him drove him over the edge and he shuddered as he filled Hannibal with his seed, a growl leaving his throat.

He lay still for a few minutes after that, letting them both relax. He leaned back, looking down at the beautiful person recovering under him. He rained kisses along his throat, moving to his ear, gently mouthing it. Hannibal shuddered, then B.A. whispered "Gotta thank that crazy man for getting this table."

Hannibal grinned up at him, running a hand over the sweat and semen mixture on B.A.'s chest. He licked at one coated finger, then kissed his chest. "Remind me to thank him as well." He shifted as B.A. pulled away from him, getting one of their T-shirts to clean up with. He saw the red material and picked it up. He giggled when he saw what it was. He turned, showing them to Hannibal. "Who do you think wore these?"

Hannibal chuckled, a deep, sated chuckle. "I'm sure it was Murdock. He's just crazy enough to do it and Face is just crazy enough to indulge him." B.A. looked over his lover's body, then held the
material over Hannibal's hips. Hannibal laughed, pushing his hands away.

B.A. lifted him into his arms, a kiss cutting off the laughter. The panties still in hand, he carried Hannibal up to their shared room, cleaning them both up, then holding his life partner in his arms for the rest of the night.


Heavy breathing filled the air of the small room, the chair squeaking as weight was shifted. The dark skinned, long haired man looked up, a smile crossing his face. "Care for a game of air hockey?"

Hunt looked down at the young man to had so recently brought him to the heights of passion. He ran a hand through Frankie Santana's hair, nodding, his lip curling into a half smile. "Oh yes, but, we're going to play way."


Continued in "We Played It My Way"


Boys Will Be Boys by Lacy



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