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In The Dark

In The Dark
Author: Soulseeker


Rating: NC-17 for raw, racist language, sexual content, and adult theme. If you’re easily offended by some words, don’t come crying to me. You have been warned.
Pairing: B.A./Murdock
Summary: B.A. has to protect Murdock, even at the cost of himself. Sorry, can’t give a better description then that.
Beta: Me
Disclaimers: I have nothing but bills, so please don’t sue
Author notes: This was written for the October and November Challenge. This is part one of a series I’m calling ‘The Dark Series’

Feedback most welcomed

 

  

                                                In The Dark

 


B.A. looked down at the semiconscious Murdock. The thin pilot had one swollen eye, bruises decorated his face.  His breathing had a wheezing sound, proof that at least one rib was cracked, if not broken. There was a large goose-egg swelling on his temple, distorting the rest of his face. B.A. was positive that Murdock had a concussion. Yep, another one of
Hannibal’s infamous plans had just bit the dust. Again.

 

It’s a simple job, Hannibal had said. In and out, no problem, piece of cake. The assignment had been jinxed at that simple phase. B.A. just should’ve up and ran right then and there. But nooo, he let himself be talked into this stupid plan. And taking Murdock along was just the icing on that doomed cake.

 

All he and Murdock had to do was to follow some rednecks, find out where their secret hideout was and then report back to Hannibal and Face, who were carrying out phase two, rigging the drug house to blow sky high. B.A. hoped that their part of the plan was running more smoothly then his and the fool’s.

 

He regretted splitting up with Murdock, now. But the fool had been determined to drive him around the same bend as him. He’d kept yammering on and on about how Big Bird from Sesame Street was really an alien from the planet Yellowbirdus. Imagine, a man his age watching a kiddie show. Once they started to follow the five men though the woods on foot, Murdock  took that opportunity to excitedly whisper about the giant yellow bird’s habits. B.A. tried his best to ignore him, difficult as it was. But when he started on how Big Bird was going to take over the Earth by forcing everyone to live in great big nests, well that’s when B.A. lost the little patience he had. He sent Murdock off to the right to circle around their targets while he stayed behind and made sure no one tried to double back. That had been the second biggest mistake he’d made that day. The first was listening to Hannibal

 

He’d trailed the men for a few miles, staying well out of sight and tracking them by the signs they’d left. Footprints, broken branches, scuffed leaves. For country boys, these yahoos didn’t bother to cover their tracks. B.A. should’ve known something was up then. But, he’d been intent on keeping out of sight, so that little vital bit of information slipped his mind. He really should’ve known that they were leading him and Murdock into a trap, but he never realized it until he found himself at an edge of a clearing, watching a group of men beat up Murdock. The cabin that they’d been hoping to find was surrounded by the trees on the edge of the open area.

 

He bellowed in anger and rushed them. He was stopped cold when three more men popped out of the hideout with shotguns pointed at him and Murdock. B.A. growled when the men beating up Murdock dropped his body, causing his friend to groan in pain.

 

More men came out of the hideout. Apparently this was Redneck Heaven, judging from the amount of firepower they were carrying. One of them grunted, motioning for B.A. to pick up Murdock. When he failed to move fast enough, he kicked Murdock hard in the head. B.A. looked into those deep brown eyes just before they closed.

 

B.A. reached his fallen friend and gently picked him up. The long limbs draped loosely over B.A.’s muscular arms and B.A. realized that Murdock was heavier then he looked. Knowing how much Murdock complained about the food at the V.A., B.A. was glad to see that he was eating good for once.

 

B.A. walked in front of the mob, entering the medium sized cabin. He carried his burden to the room the shotgun toting leader indicated. Four rough-wood planked walls greeted them. Windowless, the nearly bare room sported an unmade cot and nothing else. The only light came from the bulb in the ceiling, the chicken wire protecting it made eerie shadows on the floor and walls. There was a particular smell that teased B.A.’s senses. It was something he’d smelled before, but couldn’t place.

 

As B.A. was putting Murdock down on the cot, the door slammed shut with a heavy, ominous thud. After making sure that all of Murdock rested on the cot and not the floor, he quickly crossed the small, stifling room to test the door. He was dismayed to find that it had no handle or door knob on the inside. Pressing his ear against it, he strained to catch any sound at all.

 

After a full minute of absolute silence, B.A. pounded on the door with one large fist. The damn thing didn’t even vibrate. B.A.’s heart sunk as he realized that the seemingly ordinary door was reinforced with steel. There was no way he’d be able to break though by brute strength alone. This room was designed as escape proof and his gut clinched at the thought of why a bunch of drug pushers needed a room like this.

 

A pain filled moan caused him to hurry to the other room’s occupant’s side. One brown eye wondered around the room, taking in their surroundings. Murdock’s breathing began a painful hitch as he locked gazes with B.A. He began to mumble something and B.A. leaned closer to hear. It was the same four words repeating over and over.

 

“I don’t know anything.”

 

In Vietnamese.

 

‘Shit’, B.A. thought ’Crazy man thinks he’s back at the Camp.’ Looking around again with new eyes, B.A. could see how he’d made that mistake. Just like one of the interrogation rooms, this one was mostly bare and the lighting was minimum. And, just like one of those nightmare induced rooms, this one had the same feeling of hopelessness and despair. The teasing memory smell now slammed into him with full force. Death. Fear. Resignation to their fates. No one had ever walked out of one of those rooms in the P.O.W. camp. They limped. They crawled. They were carried or dragged from it. Dead or alive, no one had ever just ’walked’ out under their own steam. And B.A. had a bad feeling that this room had the same reputation. Unless some miracle happened, B.A. doubted that he and Murdock would live to see Hannibal and Face again.

 

Thinking of his team mates, B.A. hoped that by now they were beginning to worry about them and come searching. But, unless they stumbled across some loud mouth member of the gang, well, he and Murdock was up shit creek without a paddle.

 

B.A. kneeled down next to Murdock. “We ain’t in ’Nam no more, man. We in Tennessee. Snap out of it!”

 

But the glazed look told B.A. that Murdock wasn’t gonna just ’snap’ out of it. The man had a concussion for sure. He was talking out of his head more then usual. B.A. wished that Face was with them. He could usually get though to the fool when he was like this.  

 

The muttering continued and B.A. wracked his brain to remember what little Vietnamese he knew. He recognized the phase Murdock used. He knew a few words for ’hurry up’ and ’put your weapons down!’. He could even order a meal if he struggled long enough. But, anything other then that sounded like complete gibberish to him.

 

‘I don’t know anything’, echoed in his brain. Murdock had taught him that one. Taught them all that one sitting in a cage in the hot sun, waiting for a guard to come by and harass them. Murdock was fluent in the language and it helped to pass the endless time between torture sessions. Hannibal and Face had been somewhat better students then he and Ray. B.A. figured that Face had an easier time learning it because he’d studied Latin in the orphanage. For a dead language, it sure got around. Face had learned enough to ask a girl out or to make a deal and then for some reason, it filled up his brain. No matter how many times Murdock tried to get him to repeat innocent phases, ’This is my pencil. This is my desk. It is sunny today’, nothing but slick talk stuck. Hannibal learned a bit more. B.A. figured that it was because he’d been In Country longer then the others. All Ray had been interested in was the cuss words and dirty names he could call the V.C. guards.

 

But, no one came close to Murdock’s expertise. Murdock had managed to hide most of his talent. Speaking in broken Vietnamese, pretending to not understand commands, giving his more informative lessons under the cover of darkness. They depended on him to translate what they’d overheard during breaks in the torture. He took what they’d repeated, no matter how much they mangled it, and then went though his extensive vocabulary until the words sounded right to them. Those little snatches of phases told them who was guarding who, who was about to be moved, or who was still alive. Information that was like gold to the prisoners.

 

However, the longer they were there the worse Murdock seemed to become until his English translations sounded more like gibberish then the gibberish the guards spoke. Face had managed to keep him grounded as long as possible. And then Murdock just withdrew into himself, shutting off everyone and everything. He stayed there for a good long while. And as far as B.A. was concerned, Murdock still wasn’t completely back from inside his head.         

 

B.A.’s thoughts were interrupted by the door violently slamming open. It was a good move, one that he would’ve tried. If anyone had been hiding behind the door, they would’ve been smashed up pretty damn good. It also served as a scare tactic. The sudden explosion would’ve unnerved anyone else. But, B.A. was an exception to that rule. As with all the A-Team members. A nervous man didn’t last long in the jungle, Vietnamese or Urban.

 

B.A. stood in front of Murdock as eight men filed in. B.A. could’ve taken them all down if they hadn’t been holding guns. The large man considered them cowards. Couldn’t stand up to two unarmed men, even when one of those unarmed men was almost unconscious.

 

He didn’t have to wait long to find out what they wanted. The filth coming out of the leader’s mouth made him want to scrub out his brain.

 

“Well, well, well. Looks like we got ourselves a big nigger this time. Right, boys?”

 

There was laughter and B.A. forced himself to stay calm. He’d been called worse and by better men then these scum. Blowing his temper would just get him and Murdock blown away. Murdock was helpless right now, it was now B.A.’s job to protect him until they could be rescued. Or killed. Whichever came first.

 

The leader of the group took a long, slow look up and down B.A.’s body. It was a look that made the Sergeant’s flesh crawl. Whatever this asshole’s plan was, he knew that it wasn’t going to be easy on either him or Murdock. He just hoped that they could survive it until they were rescued.

 

“I heard that niggers are hung like horses. Is that right, nigger? You hung like an animal?”

 

B.A. gritted his teeth and refused to answer. He wouldn’t give the bastard the satisfaction of seeing him angry.  All that mattered was getting out alive.

 

“What ya’ think, boys? You boys think this filthy nigger’s cock is bigger then a White Man’s?”

 

B.A. could hear the capital letters the leader gave to the words ‘white man’s’. He made it sound like he was better then B.A. just because of the color of his skin. B.A. clinched his fists at his sides. He was determined to keep his cool.

 

“What say we find out for ourselves, boys? Strip, nigger. And give us a show.”

 

The leering men chuckled, but B.A. held his ground.

 

“I said to strip nigger! You stupid as well as big?”

 

B.A. still refused to move. Until he heard the sound of a shotgun being pumped behind him. He turned slightly and the sight froze him in place. One of the men had slipped behind him and now had his gun pointed at Murdock’s head. The barrel rested at the downed pilot’s temple. At that distance, Murdock would never survive a head shot. Not that he’d have much of a chance before, but at least he could’ve hoped for a simple graze. At point blank range, they wouldn’t be able to find a finger sized part of his head intact.

 

Choking down a growl, B.A. began to remove his clothing. He kept it simple and quick, ignoring the catcalls and wolf whistles. He wanted to snap the neck of the bastard who’d begun a raunchy rendition of the stripper’s song. He did it as if he was taking off his clothes for a doctor, robbing the men of their show, much to the displeasure of the leering men.

 

“Gold, too. What pawn shop did you buy these from, Boy? They look too good for a coon like you. Must’ve robbed a jewelry store. Is that right, nigger? You rob the store of some hard working White Man to get these chains?”

 

B.A. still said nothing as he took off each necklace, ring and bracelet. It made a considerable pile at his feet. It wouldn’t be smart to respond to these men. Racists had numbers and weapons, but no brains. No amount of talking was going to cause these bastards to see the light.

 

At last, he stood there, naked as the day he’d been born. No clothes. No jewelry. No other armor against these men except for his mind. The men took a long look at him. B.A. did his best to ignore them. He’d endured worse at the hands of the V.C.

 

“Well, well, well. The stories were right. Even limp as a noodle you are hung, Boy. Bet you get all the project jiggaboos spreading their legs to get a chance at that bad boy.  Bet you got lotsa jungle bunnies hopping around with your face. How many welfare mamas got your bastards in their big coon bellies?”

 

B.A.’s fingernails cut into his palms, sending tiny streams of blood filling his clinched hands. He would not respond. He would not. He would Not. He Would Not Respond!!

 

“You better answer me, Boy. That is, if you wanna see your partner live.”

 

B.A. turned his head. The man holding the gun to Murdock’s head pressed harder, causing the prone man to grunt in pain.

 

“I ain’t got any kids,” B.A. ground out.

 

“Come on, a Boy with a big tool like you ain’t got any kids? What’s the matter? You don’t like girls? You queer? We got a queer nigger on our hands? Never  thought I’d get to have the biggest queer nigger I’d ever seen walk right into my hands. This white boy here your bitch? Gotta be to hang around a nigger queer.”  

 

B.A.’s nails bit deeper. The fact was, the bastard was half right. B.A. was gay. But Murdock was far from being his ‘bitch‘. In fact, no one except God knew of his sexual preferences. He couldn’t risk that little fact getting to the outside world. Being a fugitive on the run was enough for now.

 

The leader stared hard at B.A., making his skin crawl once again. He didn’t like the sudden gleam in the other man’s eyes. Oh, this was going to get worse. A fact that was confirmed as soon as the other man opened his mouth.

 

“Ya’ know, I’ve never seen two queers fuck. I think I wanna see that right now. How ‘bout it Queer Boy? Ready to give your bitch a hard ride? Betcha he just loves that big cock stuffed up his ass. C’mon, ride that white ass hard!”

 

“I ain’t gonna do it. Nothing you can say or do can make me,”  B.A. growled out.

 

The man didn’t say anything for a long while. B.A.’s stomach began to unknot. It seemed that all it took was to stand up to this coward. Like all bullies, they backed down when they were confronted.

 

“Well. If that’s the way you feel ’bout it, don’t worry. Me and my boys will have a little fun with your bitch if you’re not up to it. Think your boyfriend’s up to taking all of us? We ain’t no where near your size, but what we don’t have, I’m sure we’ll make up for it with volume.”

 

At first, B.A. thought he was bluffing. He couldn’t be serious. This inbred racist wasn’t saying that he’d rape a man, not after all the disgusting remarks he’d said. Wouldn’t that make him gay, too? Wouldn’t that make every man here gay if they raped Murdock?

 

But, he began to believe the threat as soon as the man holding the shotgun on Murdock began to remove the pilot’s pants. B.A.  lost his temper right then and there. Giving out a growling roar, B.A. reached over to snap the man’s neck. No one touched his friend like that. No body!

 

Just as he touched the man who dared such a thing, B.A. was bought back to jarring reality by the feel of a cold gun barrel at the base of his neck. He froze in place.

 

“Much as I love to blow nigger brains out of  nappy heads, I still wanna see you two queers fuck. Now, I kinda like you. You alright for a worthless nigger. So, I’m gonna give you a choice. You can fuck your boyfriend in front of us. Or, I can blow your brains out right here and now, and then we can have our fun with your fuck toy. Believe me, Boy, your fairy ain’t gonna be pretty when we get though with him. That is, if he lives long enough to service all of us. And if he dies, we ain’t gonna shed any tears over a nigger loving faggot. So, you just take a second to think about it. I’ll keep it simple enough that even you’ll understand. If you want to fuck, take your hands off Jake. If you want to die and let us have his ass, keep your hands right there. Clock is tickin’, Boy. What’s it gonna be?”

 

B.A. didn’t even take the full second. He dropped his hands. He didn’t want to do it, but he couldn’t turn Murdock over to these animals.

 

The leader chuckled. “Think you made the right choice there, Boy. Now, get to fuckin’.”

 

B.A. took one long look at the man responsible for turning him into the thing he despised the most. He was going to be a rapist. He was going to force himself on someone unwilling. He doubted that Murdock was gay, but even if he was, he wouldn’t want to be taken like this. Taken by force. Taken while being watched by others with guns. Taken while others jeered and clapped. Taken in hate. Yes, hatred because of what B.A. had become.

 

Murdock deserved more. Much, much more. He deserved to be touched with passion and love. Touched by someone who loved him deep in their soul. Touched by someone who loved him just as he was -- craziness and all.

 

That someone wasn’t B.A. Couldn’t be B.A. He was now reduced to being nothing more then a rapist. Murdock would never let him near him ever again. The team would be broken apart by this. That is, if he and Murdock lived long enough for the team to break up over this new development. 

 

B.A. tuned the men behind him out as he settled on the edge of the cot. He finished taking Murdock’s pants off, slowly drawing them down the long legs. Just as he reached the ankles, B.A. removed the tennis shoes, socks and then the pants. He took a long look at the naked legs. He skimmed one hand lightly over the hairy legs as he removed the underwear. He gave Murdock a little bit of privacy by leaving on the man’s shirts and jacket. It was meager protection at best, but it was the best B.A. could offer at the time.

 

Normally, looking at another guy’s penis, especially one as pretty as Murdock’s, had him hard and dripping in seconds. But, this wasn’t normal. He was a rapist that couldn’t get it up. He would’ve laughed if the situation hadn’t been so grave. Emphasis on the word ’grave’.

 

One of the bastards behind him complained about it. “Ah, the nigger ain’t even hard. How’s he gonna fuck if he can’t get it up?”

 

“You heard him, nigger. Get it up or get dead.”

 

B.A. focused all his mental energy into the task. He imagined that he and Murdock was alone in a romantic setting. He didn’t want to imagine some random, hard-body stranger. He was with Murdock now, so he needed to focus on the pilot. He imagined slowly taking Murdock’s clothes off, revealing the treasure behind the goofball tee-shirts. He imagined kissing Murdock slow and deep, taking his time to explore that lush mouth. At least, he’ll be able to shut the man up if his tongue was occupied with something other then talking.

 

B.A. wanted to drift down that long, lean chest. He wanted to tease the dark nipples with his teeth and tongue. He wanted to hear Murdock moan and feel him wiggle in excitement. He wanted to tempt and tease the man beneath him. He wanted to hear Murdock shout his name out as he engulfed that oh, so perfect cock between his dark lips. He wanted to swallow Murdock’s hot seed down after a long, slow sucking. He wanted to . . . 

 

“Hot damn! Look at the flagpole on that coon!”

 

The loud catcall nearly broke B.A.’s concentration. It was unwelcome, but necessary to bring B.A. back to reality. He wasn’t making love to Murdock. He was about to rape him. He couldn’t afford to lose his train of thought right now. The sooner he did this, the sooner it’ll all be over for Murdock. The Calvary wasn’t coming in the nick of time this go around.
            
B.A. took his rock hard erection in one hand and gently parted Murdock’s thighs. Murdock had yet to utter a peep and B.A. prayed that he was unconscious. Falling asleep with a concussion was dangerous, but more preferable then if his victim was aware and screaming. No telling what that might do to the maniacs watching. No telling what that would do for Murdock’s state of mind if he knew what was happening to him.

 

B.A. coated his fingers with the copious amount of pre-cum he was producing. That, along with the small amount of blood still on his fingers, would have to do for lube. He might be a rapist, but he was a considerate one. He refused to take the other man dry.

 

He gently probed the tight, pink rosebud that graced Murdock’s ass. B.A. was honest with himself to admit that he loved the shape of Murdock’s ass. It was round and firm in all the right places. It was perfect for his large hands and he hated himself because he was touching it like this.

 

B.A. watched as that tight hole relaxed a bit at his probing. He watched as that tiny pink mouth just swallowed his finger like it was a starving thing and B.A.’s appendage was it’s first meal. He added a second finger. It was tighter, the heat and silky feel of the muscled tunnel made B.A. harder. He gently pumped in and out, stretching the hole large enough to add a third finger.

 

At the addition of the third finger, B.A. felt the minute shaking of Murdock’s thighs. He leaned up until he was looking into Murdock’s face. The pilot was awake and aware. B.A.’s heart sunk and he nearly lost his hard on until he remember what would happen without his performance. He had to do it now, before Murdock began to struggle. If Murdock did that, they would both be sunk. He’d never be able to do it if Murdock fought him.

 

B.A. withdrew his fingers, the tight rosebud teasing his fingers by gripping them. He lined up his cock and slowly began to enter. He wanted to take it slow. He wanted to take it fast. He wasn’t sure what he wanted, but he kept a steady pace until he was completely sheathed in that hot, velvet tunnel.

 

He held himself still, fighting himself to keep from just plowing hard into Murdock’s sweet ass like he wanted too. He carefully levered himself up to keep from crushing the man beneath him. He slowly looked in Murdock’s face. There was a look of baffled bewilderment, a look of confusion as if he just couldn’t grasp what was being done to him. The confusion cleared as they listened to the men watching.

 

“Holy shit! Look at that ass take that nigger cock!”

 

“Fuck ‘em good, Boy.”

 

“Man, I want a sweet piece of meat like that.”

 

“Pound that ass, nigger!”

 

“Work it, boy! Work that ass or we’ll do it for ya’!”

 

“Look at the buns on that nigger!”

 

B.A. watched as the one opened eye filled with tears as Murdock turned his face to the wall. “I’m so sorry, Murdock.” B.A. whispered. Now, the big man felt like garbage. Now, his descent into the depths of humanity was complete.

 

Murdock made no protest or sound as B.A. began to move in the age old rhythm of sex. That made B.A. feel worse. In fact, B.A. could’ve been fucking a bundle of laundry for all the attention that Murdock paid to him. He looked down and noticed that Murdock wasn’t even hard. B.A. thanked God that Murdock was spared that. It would’ve been utterly humiliating for the pilot if he’d gotten an erection from being raped.

 

B.A. was going to kill all those bastards watching. He was going to snap their necks after he tore their limbs off. He was going to gut them like fish and revel in their screams of death. He was going to bury them all up to their necks at the beach and watch the tide roll in. He was going to stomp on them, crush them beneath his heels and ground their faces in the concrete.

 

Thinking of all the ways he could cause their deaths caused him to pump harder then he wanted to. Murdock continued to lie there, not helping or hindering B.A.’s progress. B.A. felt the first stirrings of orgasm approaching and he rolled with it. Blindly reaching down, his large hands grasped the slip white hips as he drove himself harder, lost in the haze of lust that suddenly gripped him with an iron hand. He wanted to come. He had to come or the earth would explode.

 

His light breathing became a pant. The pant grew heavier and heavier until B.A. felt the fire erupt from the base of his spine, causing him to shove himself deep and hard one finally time. He emptied himself into the tight channel still gripping him, shuddering and shaking with the force of his explosion. He’d had sex before, but he’d never come as hard or as much as this. A pleasant buzzing filled his mind and his limbs felt heavy. BA. collapsed on top of Murdock and he sleepily nuzzled the long neck within his reach. He’d nearly snuggled up to the body under him when the voices filtered though the blissful haze.

 

Whooeee! Look at that nigger blow!”

 

“Ain’t never seen so much cum in my life.”

 

“That ain’t all cum. Nigger just fucked his brains out!”

 

B.A. came back to reality just like one of Murdock’s crashing planes. Hard, quick and messy. He wasn’t alone with someone he wanted. No . .   scratch that. He wasn’t alone with someone who wanted him. He was now a rapist. He didn’t deserve to have someone love him.

 

With that last thought in mind, B.A. geared himself to rush the bastards behind him. They’d never be prepared for an enraged naked black guy  rushing them. He could take a few of them out before he was gunned down. And as for Murdock, maybe he’d feel better if he knew that his rapist got what he deserved. And, if he was extremely lucky, maybe a stray bullet would take Murdock’s life before the rest of the inbred assholes took their turns with him. It would be easier on everyone if both of them died that day.

 

Just as B.A. prepared to pull out of Murdock, a sound of bursting bombs filled the air. B.A. recognized the sound of grenades when he heard them and the gun toting maniacs scattered like the cockroaches they were. They fought each other to get out the door, leadership be damned. It was every man for himself as the air literally vibrated with the sounds of open warfare.

 

It was Attila the Hun at the gates.

 

It was the Roman army in Greece.

 

It was the Invasion of Normandy.

 

It was Hannibal and Face. Rescue had finally come.

 

B.A. gently pulled himself out of Murdock, hating the sight of all the bodily fluids dripping out of the passive man. The pilot still refused to react to anything.  He hadn’t even flinched when the first explosion happened. Under any other circumstances, B.A. would’ve been concerned. This wasn’t under anything they’d ever been though before.

 

B.A. cleaned up as best he could, using his own shirt to clean off a cum-slicked Murdock and himself. He dropped the now offensive piece of clothing on the floor, it was no longer useful and B.A. never wanted to set his eyes on it again. He pulled Murdock’s underwear and pants back on, the task much more difficult without the pilot’s cooperation. He dressed himself and ripped the soiled mattress apart, dumping out the ticking and using the empty bag he’d made to gather up all his gold and their shoes. Murdock still didn’t protest as B.A. once again picked him up and carried him out to freedom.

 


The End.     

 


In The Dark by Soulseeker

 

 


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