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This page last viewed: 2017-10-17 and has been viewed 2555 times
by Face's New Flame
Rating: NC-17, m/m slash, very explicit
Summary: How do you cope with one wild child?
Warnings: see rating plus very minor swearing.
Disclaimer: The character's aren't mine, but I take them out for the weekend. No money made here.
Author's note: A piece of romantic F/M for snowflake and witchbaby, because they asked for it, and I can never say no.
Face lay very, very still under the bed. The door closing again; the keys
turning; the sound of a heavy leather jacket dropping to the floor, and
shoes being kicked off.
Two red-socked feet walked towards him, then vanished above his head, and the mattress bulged down under protest at its new load.
He grabbed the frame for leverage, cold metal against his hot palms, and
pulled himself out from underneath the bed.
'Billy!' yelped Murdock, delighted. 'Wasn't expecting you here.' Face
grinned, glad that his lock-picking skills had come in handy again.
'Billy' was the plan Murdock had come up with especially for these
occasions. It was a little dangerous for a known associate to be shouting
'Temp' or 'Face' in the middle of the night, and 'darling' probably wasn't
much better. And could Murdock be quiet? No, not even when their lives
depended on it. He was one passionate head case.
So 'Billy' had appeared. HM could yell 'Billy' to his heart's content, and
everyone just thought he was talking to his new friend, the invisible dog.
Only Face and HM knew that the mutt had appeared shortly after their first midnight encounter at the VA.Ý Billy made life less dangerous for Face, but .. well.. Murdock had started doing something else, something that might have been a problem. Then again, it might have been very very nice. Face just couldn't decide.
Just lately, Murdock had started taking 'Billy' for walks when they were
outside the VA. Cuddling Billy. Stroking Billy. Telling Billy what a good boy he was, how much he loved him... all the time grinning at Face, watching his movements, watching the effect. Face could feel his eyes boring into him, although when he looked, there wasn't anything but cheeky sparkling behind batting lashes.
And that was why he was here tonight. Murdock had spent all day playing with Billy. Face had played too, moved in closer to Murdock, stroked Billy himself. BA just thought they were both nuts. Hannibal - well, he ignored it, mainly, or tolerated it with good humour. But Face... it had been making Face so crazy, he had to have him.
Murdock's outing had left the pilot over stimulated again, though. He seemed more manic than usual. Face immediately ensured his silence by filling his mouth with a long wet tongue as he pushed HM back down onto the mattress.
See, there could still be problems. One night Face had snuck in, Murdock had ended up yelling so hard when he came, that the orderlies had come to take him off to the observation ward for the night. Face had only just managed to roll under the bed in time to avoid them, but then the orderly had decided, while he was in, to collect all of the clothes Murdock had left lying around the place for laundry. It wasn't always easy getting in to pick stuff up, not with Murdock screaming about ammonia and all.
So, Face had been left naked, locked in (the picks being in the back pocket of his jeans) and very frustrated. It'd been a struggle getting through the ventilation shaft, along the access space in the roof, and into the laundry to recover his clothes and the incriminating picks. By then, of course, he realised he'd left his shoes back in HM's quarters.
It was a long, barefoot walk back to where he'd stashed the 'vette.
But this time, he had a plan. It was so obvious, when you thought of it. All he had to do, and it was a very very pleasant thing to do, was make sure Murdock's mouth was fully occupied at all times. Just like it was now. Just keep that nimble slippery tongue sliding all over his teeth and lips, or his neck, or over his chest, or sucking his fingers, or dear lord please let him.....
Face pulled back, short of breath already, dizzy with the anticipation.
Murdock opened his mouth, preparing to speak. 'Shhh,' said Face, quickly slipping two fingers in just over the lip. Murdock sucked them in the rest of the way, sliding his tongue over and around and between them. With his free hand, unfortunately the left, so he was a little clumsy, Face tried to undo some of Murdock's buttons. Murdock was having no such difficulty; Face was stripped to the waist in seconds.
Ok, thought Face, let's go for another kiss. He tugged gently on his fingers to get them back; then a bit harder. 'Murdock,' he hissed, 'you gotta stop that. My cock thinks you're sucking on *it* and if you don't stop I'll have finished before we've even begun.'
Murdock fixed on Face's eyes as he edged back, one.. milli.. me..tre.. at
... a time.. until it was all Face could do to keep from crying out. It was
so .. so..
And then Murdock was on him, lips crushing his, arms around him, and it took forever before Face remembered he was meant to be getting Murdock naked.
Oh, Murdock's skin, smooth and pale beneath his fingertips, the soft curve of his pecs, sliding round under his open shirt to the points of his
shoulder blades, down his spine, feeling Murdock arching into him, the small of his back where Face's fleshy palm fitted so well. He peeled Murdock's left arm away from him to get the shirt sleeve off, then the right; and then sweet lord yes, two naked chests pressed together, skin on skin, melting, molding, becoming each other, hundreds, thousands, millions of tiny electric sparks of passion flaming between them.
It was too much. Face needed more oxygen, and broke the kiss.
'Hey, Facey,' whispered Murdock. 'Wanna take Billy for a walk?' Face nodded, incapable of speech. All day thinking about this, and talking about Billy, and watching Murdock's long fingers stroking and petting, had kept him hard for hours. Jees, he'd even kissed the shop girl, just to keep his mouth busy, and away from Murdock, in public.
Then the lying and waiting for Murdock to come back from his therapist. Then the lips and the fingers and tongues and skin and hands and, oh boy, everything, just everything. Murdock was grinning at him, a kid who got what he wanted most of all for Christmas. 'Well you better get out've them jeans. That's if you can keep your hands steady enough.'
Face doubted it, but he was more than willing to give it a try. He didn't
understand how Murdock could seen so calm, so in control. But here, in bed, where it was suddenly so, so important he be in control, he was.
And then, after the eternity it took Face's shaky fingers to finish
undressing himself, then he lay down and could really be himself, here,
naked, with his love.
Right. Now. Remember and keep his mouth full. No lying naked on the floor in the dark for you tonight, Face. 'Murdock,' he whispered. 'Please, please, HM, will you do that thing you were doing to my fingers again?' And Face opened up his eyes wide and pretty. Murdock sucked in two fingers just as slowly as he had released them, and Face moved down the narrow bed to take Murdock into his mouth.
It's difficult, thought Face, with the tiny bit of his brain left free to
think, to remember and breath when you have a mouth full of cock, you're playing with a guy's prostrate, and the bastard is doing *exactly* the same to you so's you can't concentrate on anything much.
His mouth was awash with saliva, loving this, the taste of his lover. Then
Murdock changed the angle of his finger inside Face, stroked just a few
times, and Face knew he was going to scream the place down, that this was going to be *incredible*. He let go of Murdock and forced his head down into the sheets, biting through them into the mattress, as Murdock sucked on him harder, as Murdock teased inside of him and sent him deeper and deeper, stifling his screams as he came harder and harder.
When he had recovered enough to go back to Murdock, to take the length of his shaft back between his lips, he had a vague recollection there was
something else he should be worrying about, but none of his brain was
working at all now. There was *something*. But oh, HM tasted good, and he loved feeling him fight for breath, helpless in Face's mouth, made helpless by Face's fingers, loved the tension building up in Murdock, loved the way he knew Murdock's body, exactly how much faster and tighter to move his lips, how to keep holding Murdock on the edge, how to change things just the tiniest bit to *push him over it*, and oh how he loved the way he, when he came, the way he cried out 'Bi...'
*&!$%"! Cried out? Shit! But there it was, and god he loved to hear it,
their own language, that name, Billy, over and over again, and the hot fluid filling his mouth.
A knock at the door. Both men froze.
Face rolled off and under the bed in one movement, snagging his jeans under with him, just in case. His shoes were still there from earlier. Sheets rustled as Murdock got under the covers. A key turning, and two huge booted feet walking over to Murdock.
'Murdock, I said are you alright?'
'Yup, sure am.'
'Then what was all that noise?'
'Just talkin' to Billy, is all.'
'I see. C'mere, sit up and let me have a look at you. Hey, you're awful warm though. I think you're running a temperature. Better keep an eye on you tonight. Come on, put your pjs on, you better come up to the main ward with me. While I'm in, why don't I just pick a few of these things up for the laundry. That a new shirt?'
'Mmmhmm. Present, came in the post.' Face could here the muzziness in
Murdock's voice, the post orgasmic sleep waiting to hit the minute he was left in peace. And he cursed himself for letting him cry out. He wanted to be there, holding Murdock until he drifted away. He spent too many nights alone; they both did.
'Looks good, man. Looks good. C'mon, lets go.'
Well, thought Face, wriggling into the jeans. Could be worse. He reached
into the back pocket.
He reached into the front pocket. 2 gumballs, a yoyo.Ý Murdock's jeans.
Face sighed. Just in case there was anything useful in it, he checked the
*other* front pocket.
He sighed again. It was so hard to be mad at someone who carried a picture of you round with him everywhere.
Face moved the chair under the ventilation hatch. Was it worth it?
One long pull upward later, he looked down from his new viewpoint above the room. The battered old leather. The baseball cap. The tangle of sheets where they'd been just minutes ago. He whispered into the room,
'Same time next week, lover. Sweet dreams.'
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