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Against Love's Fire (the as-promised addendum to Want You to
Rating: oh, my. Definitely NC-17.
Disclaimer: The A-Team belongs to Stephen J. Cannell and Universal. I make no profit from this.
Warning: m/m sexual situations. Graphic. If this is not your cup of tea, PLEASE do not read this story.
Summary: Sex, sex, and more sex. I *did* promise, didn't I?
"Want you." Face's voice, urgent.
"Mmmm." Murdock's answer was deliberately non-committal. He pressed up closer to Face, nestling in. Moved very slowly up and back, rubbing his hard length against Face, the moan Face gave making him smile.
Pulling back just a bit, he ran his hand through Face's hair, then planted a kiss on the back of his neck. Face moaned again and buried his face in the pillow. Murdock moved down just a bit more, let his fingers roam as well as his lips. Traced a row of gentle kisses down the center of Face's back, pausing just at the bottom of his spine. Lay there, smiling, letting his breath fall warm on Face's skin. Face shifted a bit under him, turned and cast his intense gaze at Murdock.
Murdock glanced up and grinned, raising an eyebrow. Face shifted again. "You're teasing." His voice was breathless.
"Yep. I am." Murdock traced his fingers down Face's side, tightened his hands around his hips, pulled him just a fraction closer. Face exhaled in a sigh as Murdock's tongue traced just a bit down the small of his back to where it dipped towards his ass. Murdock explored the spot with just the tip of his tongue, waiting till he heard Face moan and gasp, "God! Murdock, please!"
"Well, since you begged so pretty, Face . . ." Murdock allowed his lips to suckle the skin at that oh, so sensitive spot, adjusting easily to the movement as Face lifted his hips restlessly to meet those hot lips. He grinned again at the sounds his actions were engendering from Face and glanced up to see Face's hands clutching at the bedsheets.
He heard Face's voice, at first just quiet, incomprehensible sounds of enjoyment, then quietly begging, "Please, Murdock, god, please, want you, want you so bad . . ."
"Not yet, baby. Been waiting for this too long to rush it. 'Sides, I wanna hear you beg some more." Teasing, such sweet teasing. He did love it, though. Face's voice, asking, wanting, needing him, just him. Knowing what to do to drawn those moans and sighs from the reserved conman, the feel of him writhing beneath him, the sound of his name drawn from his lips in a desperate tone. Made him feel like he was melting inside, truly melting.
He moved up Face's body slowly, kissing his way, till he lay again across Face's back. Let his hand drift down as Face sighed at the loss of Murdock's mouth. Murdock walked his fingers down Face's back, then lower. Pressed a finger into his body, smiling as Face relaxed to allow the intrusion, then began moving his hips in rhythm with Murdock's hand.
Seeing Face all loose and open with lust, eyes closed, his pleasure obvious, no thought for any semblance of decorum, made Murdock hotter than almost anything else. He pressed his cock, hard and aching, against Face's thigh, the warm contact sending shivers through his body.
Feeling Murdock hard against him, Face opened his eyes and cast him a sideways glance. Murdock loved Face's eyes like this, hooded and glazed with passion. Face moved rhythmically back against his hand. "Murdock," he murmured, closing his eyes slowly. "Want you." Intensely. "Want you. In me. Now." Gave him another look, and Murdock knew that however teasing this game had been, the teasing was over. Those words, that tone, that look: he was done for. He wasn't in control here, not anymore, and it bothered him not at all. They wanted each other, needed this, so much. Loved each other so well. The teasing was for both of them, but no question about it, all that they wanted was there for the taking, right now.
He heard Face whispering his name, pleadingly, and he raised himself up, quickly stroked on some lube from the tube on the bedside table, then lowered himself slowly, carefully, towards Face's ready body. Face was still shifting eagerly on the bed, more than ready, and he raised his hips up as he felt Murdock's cock seeking entrance to his body.
Face shot an incredulous look back at Murdock.
Murdock laughed throatily, and held onto Face's hips, pushed carefully, trembling with urgency, but holding himself back, doing it slow, so slow, careful and gentle and slow. Slow. Became surrounded by the warmth, the heat, the man he loved. Gentle and slow became hot and deep and he was wrapped up in it all, the wonder of it all (he wondered at it always, every time, how very beyond good this was). All of the world became this: this thrusting into Face, Face rocking beneath him, incoherent murmurs of pleasure became cries as the passion built ever higher, rocking his body, rocking his world.
It was dizzying, a spiral ever, falling and not-falling, spinning but not crazily, not here, not now, not crazy, no, but something akin to it (Murdock recognized that), something that danced on the very edge of what was real and what was fantasy. Good, so good, and Face's back was arching, his head lifting off of the pillow, and Murdock knew it was close, so close. (So close were they, close inside, close as one. One body, moving together. The stories and songs and poems said so, said they were one, said it was true, said how perfect it could be, but they were wrong, so wrong, because it was so far beyond that, no words, no poem, no love song from the heart could ever do anything but only begin to describe it).
Unlike anything else.
All was the movement and the plunge and the perfect, perfect smoothness of rhythm, matching each other so well. And he heard moans and sighs and declarations onto God coming from his own mouth, independent of thought, just these passion words spoken for Face's ears alone.
He heard and felt Face's breath burning so well on his cheek and realized that he was somehow clutching Face to himself (hard, close) and that Face was writhing beneath him, breaths coming in almost sobs, calling his name and asking for more.
And close, so close, and he was nearing the edge and almost weeping for not wanting to give up the perfection of this very moment (but boys don't cry, never cry, shouldn't cry), knew it was coming and that was part of the perfection too, a very part of it, that the moment of utmost bliss was always but fleeting, leading them to come seeking it again and again and again and
"Oh, god, oh Face, oh please, baby, please." Thrust again and again, clinging to the edge of reason and control and sanity (if he knew what it was, if he could ever even recognize it really), till he heard Face cry out, loud, true, not hiding anything, anything at all, so hard for Face not to hide, so very very open in this moment, and nothing could hold Murdock back from the edge once he heard that cry (sexy, so sexy it was, no other word, my god, Face laid bare and more than bare, that raw cry from the heart, open and pure and GOD, the fire it lanced through his very soul).
And he came, came hard, came deep, deep inside his lover, his love, his Face, spiraling over that blessed edge once again, each time so perfect it hurt, so flawed he wanted to die falling over, so desperate was he to hold onto that moment of utter everything.
Murdock's eyes never quite made it open, but he reached out and pulled Face to him, spooning close. Heard Face softly chuckling. Cracked open an eyelid. "What's funny?"
"Just thinking. We need to fight more often. That was amazing, Murdock. I mean . . . I couldn't *breathe* there, at the end." Face smiled and reached back with a lazy hand to touch Murdock's cheek. "Amazing." He paused. "I think I like make-up sex."
Murdock yawned. Blinked sleepily, blew some of Face's hair out of his face. "Me, too." He yawned again. "Don't like the fights, though."
"They can be kind of funny afterwards, though."
"Sometimes." Murdock pressed a kiss into Face's shoulder. "This is good." He sighed. "So good. Let's try not to mess it up, 'kay?" He was drifting, could feel sleep catching up to him, pulled Face even closer.
"Okay." Face was absently tracing lines on Murdock's arm where it lay draped across him. He looked back over his shoulder at Murdock, lying almost asleep in the darkness. Murdock's face was as open as ever, but looked younger as he drifted towards exhausted sleep. Face sighed, too. "I do love you, you know."
"Love you, too, Face."
Face wriggled just a bit closer, Murdock's arm lying heavy and safe over him. "So much . . ." he murmured. His own eyes closed slowly and he let himself smile in the darkness.
"Against love's fire fear's frost hath dissolution."
-Shakespeare, The Rape of Lucrece
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