FIC: Boundaries (M, movieverse, F/M, F/H, M/BA)
Title: Boundaries
Fandom: A-Team movieverse
Genre: Humour/crack, smut
Rating: M
Warnings: Slash, language, mild sexytimes
Summary: For a challenge on A-Team Prompts, as always. The A-Team plays Truth Or Dare.
The barriers were broken down, as many personal barriers are, by a metric shit-tonne of alcohol.
Metric measurements were being used because they were in Canada. Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan, to be precise. Murdock had suggested the town when they were brainstorming places to lay low from the US Army and once he’d managed to convince the team that yes, it really did exist (an atlas was produced and everything), they’d packed up and left within the hour. Even BA had only put up a token protest at the prospect of flying. Funny how the thought of ten years in prison can make a man reassess his phobias.
Thus beganeth the A-Team’s self-imposed exile to the Canadian wilderness. Well, the Canadian small townyness.
Pluses of Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan: Humorous name. Relative anonymity. Decent rented cottage on the outskirts of town. Well-stocked liquor store. Opportunity to use colourful Canadian money with birds on it. Minuses of Moose Jaw: Boredom. Veritable house-arrest. Cabin fever. Tetchiness. Boredom.
All told, the Minuses of Moose Jaw made that last item on the Pluses list very important indeed.
By the third day, drinking had become something of a pastime for the four ex-Rangers. And because they couldn’t do anything by halves or in anything less than spectacular style (and because they were really, really bored), the pastime had grown more and more elaborate as the days went on. It was only a matter of time before somebody suggested drinking games.
Hannibal had commented that perhaps they were too old for that kind of thing. Face and Murdock had dissolved into giggles and taken sloppy sips of Molston.
“That’s one!” said Face gleefully.
“Every time you tell us we’re being immature or say ‘Boys!’ in that Dad kind of way, we take a drink,” explained Murdock.
“What you fools playing at now?” groaned BA, because he was too tired for this shit.
They snorted with laughter, took another sip each and didn’t reply.
No one was sure when Hannibal and BA “officially” joined in, but by the time Face had bemoaned the loss of his tan in the pale Canadian sun for the third time (one sip each), and Murdock had started speaking in Mandarin for a few minutes without realising why no one could understand him (two sips), the entire team was well and truly toasted. Hannibal’s constant cigar smoking (one sip) and BA’s insults (one sip) alone would have been enough to give lesser drinkers alcohol poisoning.
After a couple of hours, Hannibal got bored. He was the savvy intellect of the group, after all.
“Something else!” he demanded, holding out his hand for another drink which Face, intuitive beyond the effects of mortal substances, immediately provided. “Let’s do something else!”
Murdock seemed to fancy himself something of an expert on time-passing games, thanks to all his experience in tediously bland hospital environments. Unfortunately, he was used to playing with people whose mental conditions were, well...
“How about What’s That Odour?” Murdock suggested. “Mystery Taste Test? Who’s Finger Is That, that’s a good one. Ancient Weapon Or Sex Act?”
“How about Truth or Dare?” cut in Hannibal, naming the first thing that came into his head without thinking it through properly.
“Sure, pops,” agreed Face. “Wanna braid each other’s hair too?”
“Shut up, brat.”
“Ooh, we can tell ghost stories! I can’t remember how it starts, but the call was coming from inside the house!”
Hannibal threw a Sleeman’s Lager bottle at Face. It wasn’t empty. It caused a bit of a kerfuffle when Face batted the bottle away and it spilled all over BA. Murdock, still gamely playing the first drinking game, had to finish his entire beer as the Corporal railed at the blond.
“RIGHT!” Three sheets to the wind, Hannibal’s nuanced leadership techniques had evaporated down to “Try to be louder than everyone else”. It worked. “Truth or Dare. Let’s go.”
“Your idea, you’re up first, boss,” said BA, accepting Face’s apology offering of a fresh bottle of cider.
Hannibal met his challenge with a defiant stare. It looked in two directions at once at one point, but was still quite impressive. “No problem. Face!”
The blond saluted - the Boy Scout’s salute. “Sir!”
“Truth or dare?”
Face answered instantly. “Dare.”
Murdock and BA laughed. “So predictable, Faceman,” said BA. “You wouldn’t tell us the truth anyway, would ya?”
Face tried to look offended. “I don’t have to answer that,” he said tossing his nose in the air. “It’s not your turn. Hannibal, please proceed.” He spat on himself a little when trying to pronounce ‘proceed’, but was otherwise the picture of dignity.
“Alright, dare.” For once, Hannibal hadn’t thought this far ahead. “I dare you... to eat the leftovers Murdock cooked last night.”
Three groans started before he’d even finished issuing his challenge. “What?” asked Hannibal, put out. “What’s wrong with that?”
“It’s so lame, boss,” said Face.
“Gotta say, I expected more from you,” said BA, shaking his head in disappointment. “You’re supposed to be the creative one.”
“Maybe he’s just building up to the good ones,” said Murdock, not wanting Hannibal to feel bullied. He turned to his leader encouragingly. “That’s what you were doing, isn’t it, Hannibal? Starting off small. That’s why you picked such a wimpy dare, right?”
“For gods’ sake,” Hannibal grumbled. “What would you suggest, then?”
A positively devilish grin spread across Murdock’s face, spread over to Face’s and put on a new jacket to arrive on BA’s lips as a half-smirk.
“If it were me,” Murdock jumped in before the other two could answer, “I’d do something like this.” He turned to his friend. “Faceman, I dare you...” He leaned over to Face, whispering something in his ear while they both shot impish looks to Hannibal and BA. Honestly, sometimes it was hard to believe that they were in their mid-thirties, the way they carried on like a couple of adolescents.
Face’s cheeks grew a bit pink as Murdock pulled back after relaying his challenge, but the mischievous smirk didn’t leave his lips. He eyed Hannibal with a very strange, almost predatory expression.
“Hey, that ain’t fair,” protested BA as Hannibal started regretting everything that had led to this moment, up to and including enrolling in the Army because Face was looking at him in a way that promised nothing good. “You can’t tell just him. You gotta tell everybody.”
Face had slid out of his chair with an annoying amount of grace and was now marching with purpose towards Hannibal’s armchair. It didn’t take long - they were only a few feet apart. He really could have just leaned over to do what he was about to do.
What he did was plop himself in Hannibal’s lap and, holding the other man’s arms down with a firm grip so he wouldn’t be shoved away, press his lips to his Colonel’s.
Everything went still. Face’s lips were wet with beer and tasted like hops. He was holding his breath and keeping his mouth closed. It was chaste. It was strange. It was over in just a few seconds.
Face and Hannibal pulled back at the same time.
“Uh,” said Face, rocking backwards and slipping off the older man’s lap. His skin was flushed and he tugged at the collar of his shirt as he fell back into his own chair. “Dare completed.”
“Boooo!” Murdock was the only one who wasn’t flummoxed by the turn of events, of course. His eyes were slightly glassy. BA made a note to ask Hannibal if it was really okay for him to mix his meds with alcohol, as the pilot kept insisting. “That doesn’t count! I’ve gone further than that with my grandmother.”
“Yeah, but you’re from the South,” quipped Face, recovering enough to make a dirty joke.
Murdock just shook his head. “Everyone’s letting me down in this game,” he said ruefully. “You’re all so tame.” He sucked his pear cider through a whirly novelty straw he’d found in a 7/11 last week.
Face narrowed his eyes, embarrassment temporarily displaced by irrationally bruised pride. “My turn.” He fixed his gaze on Murdock. “Truth or dare?”
“Dare, natch.”
Face had been expecting that. “Same thing you just dared me.”
Hannibal tensed as the pilot stood, hands reflexively springing up and curling into claws to ward off the expected assault. To his surprise, Murdock ignored him and beelined straight for BA. Before the bigger man realised what was happening, Murdock was straddling him. It was an awkward fit - armchairs weren’t meant for such debauched activities and it ended up being a kind of kneeling crouch rather than a proper straddle - but the intent was clear and BA had no time to struggle before Murdock’s lips latched onto his.
As if proving a point, which he probably was, Murdock’s kiss was a far cry from Face’s. He held Bosco’s head between his hands and licked and lapped at the larger man’s mouth. At some point, BA’s jaw went slack and Murdock took it as an invitation. The wet sounds of his tongue working in Bosco’s mouth were somehow the most intimate and erotic things Hannibal had ever heard. This shouldn’t have been happening. Something in the air had changed and this wasn’t just playing anymore. They’d all fallen over a precipice that Hannibal hadn’t even seen.
Finally, Murdock surfaced for air. He kept his face close to BA for a moment after they parted, and Hannibal couldn’t see from his angle but it looked like he might have gently brushed his lips against the other man’s one more time before pulling back and returning to his own seat.
“Done!” he announced brightly, but his voice was rough and his eyes were even more glazed than before. BA was rubbing his mouth in a way that could have been taken for disgust. Could have. Murdock cleared his throat. “So, who’s next? BA!” Bosco flinched. “Truth or dare.”
BA looked at Face, Hannibal and Murdock. “Truth.”
Murdock nodded, rubbing his hands together like a mad scientist. “Good, good. Truth. Veritas. Non-fiction. Realiness.” He pointed to BA. “Was that kiss as horrible as you would have expected? Remember, you have to be honest.”
“You’re not allowed to fish for compliments!” protested Face. “That’s not even a real question.”
BA glowered and grit his teeth. “No,” he ground out.
Murdock pretended not to hear. “No what?”
BA closed his eyes, trying to remember how to not commit homicide. “No, it wasn’t as bad as I woulda thought.”
Murdock threw a fist in the air victoriously. “Hooray! That’s all I needed. Thanks, big guy.”
“You know I’m gonna kill you, fool.”
Murdock nodded indulgently. “I know Bosco, I know. You’re very scary.”
“BA’s turn,” said Hannibal, hoping that the Corporal would steer things back onto a sane and definable track. Face and Murdock could get caught up in each other’s mania and go for hours.
“That’s right,” said BA, as if he’d forgotten himself. “Okay. Faceman. Truth or dare.”
Face took a swig of his drink. “Dare! Caution to the wind!” He and Murdock high-fived. It was a long reach; Murdock nearly fell off his chair but recovered in the nick of time. They high-fived again for thwarting gravity.
BA pondered for a moment. He didn’t want to sink to their level, he really didn’t. It was stupid and immature and made him kind of uncomfortable. On the other hand, they deserved it.
“I dare you and Crazy to kiss.” He glared at both of them. “Then we’re even.”
That logic didn’t make one bit of sense but no one noticed. Face and Murdock stood up and met each other halfway in the middle of the room. There was no preamble: Grinning, they two of them launched at each other with full force. BA wondered why he had expected different, then reminded himself it was because he wasn’t a pervert who spent his time wondering what would happen if his teammates made out. This was so weird.
Hannibal, meanwhile, was slightly hypnotised. Face and Murdock moved together like they’d done this a million times before, which he was sure they hadn’t. He would have known - they wouldn’t have been able to keep it quiet. It was just the way they did everything, he realised. They were so in sync with each other’s moods and traits that it made sense that this would be another area in which they were in tune.
They grasped each other firmly, Murdock’s arms around Face’s waist and the conman’s hands threading through the pilot’s hair. There was no shame or modesty in their actions. They kissed hard and fierce, mouths opening wide for each other as they yielded and dominated in turn. It was more like a dance than a kiss, Hannibal mused as they turned and he could see that they were pressed against each other firmly, not a single atom of light visible between them. Murdock’s hands slipped down to rest just above the curve of Face’s ass.
Hannibal didn’t realise how intently he’d been watching, and how slack his own mouth had become, until they finally separated. Breathing heavily and giving each other one of those strange smiles like they knew the punch line before anyone else knew there was a joke, Face and Murdock pulled apart. Partially, at any rate. Their lower bodies remained firmly plastered together and their hands didn’t move.
“And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you complete a dare!” Of course Face would find an excuse to brag.
“Hell yeah,” echoed Murdock. His lips were swollen and pulled into a wide grin.
BA had absolutely no response to that.
Face didn’t let the momentum die, too hyped up to notice or care about the moods of the others in the room. His hips twitched reflexively against Murdock’s. “My turn now.” He craned his neck over one shoulder, then the other, then shuffled himself and Murdock around so they could both see Hannibal. “Colonel, truth or dare.”
Hannibal swallowed. Twice. “Truth,” he managed. He had the feeling that both were a risk at this stage, but for some reason the idea of stopping the game didn’t occur to him as an option.
Sure enough, Face resembled nothing more than a shark as he said, “You liked watching us just now, didn’t you?”
This had to be against all sorts of military procedures. They told you that keeping an unorthodox team would bite you in the ass, Smith, Hannibal chided himself. They told you and you wouldn’t listen. Fuck this. He was a man. He could answer a simple question. There was nothing to be ashamed of here.
“Yes,” Hannibal replied, trying very hard to look nonchalant. “Yes I did.”
“That’s good,” said Murdock. “’Cause I’m gonna do it again.”
Face’s head snapped back towards him. “What, what?”
Murdock didn’t answer. Not verbally, anyway. For all his surprise, Face caught up admirably.
“That’s it!” BA stood up and pushed past the entwined men, who didn’t react, and stormed towards his bedroom down the hall. “I’m out. This is too weird, man. Too weird.” His voice faded as his door slammed shut behind him.
Face and Murdock didn’t rise to his grumblings for once. Hannibal wasn’t sure what to do. The sight before him was captivating. But BA was right. This was getting out of hand. There was no way this was part of the game anymore. Hannibal wasn’t sure what this was. He definitely felt strange watching it, though. Like he was intruding on something private and incredibly intimate.
Ignoring the warmth in his cheeks because Colonels don’t blush, Hannibal went to stand up. The chair scraped backwards an inch or so on the hardwood floor. At the sound, his Captain and Lieutenant broke their embrace and looked at him.
“Where are you going?” panted Face. His eyes were lidded.
“Aren’t you gonna play anymore?” Damn it, how did Murdock manage to sound so disappointed with Face holding him like that?
“I think the game’s over, boys,” said Hannibal wryly, indicating the way they were clinging to each other like muscular, attractive limpets.
“Doesn’t have to be.” And damned if Face didn’t arch himself into Murdock like a fucking cat. Murdock made a noise of approval low in his throat.
Hannibal’s mouth was dry and his jeans were tight. He had the sensation of walking on a thin rope between two tall buildings - and having done just that more than once, he knew what he was talking about. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t want to stop,” said Face plainly.
“Me neither,” said Murdock. “Two against one.”
He had to ask. At this point, he couldn’t see that they’d get offended. “Boys, do you... Is this your first time, together?”
They nodded, too instantly and with expressions too open to be disingenuous.
Murdock leaned into Face, nuzzling into Face’s hair while keeping his eyes on Hannibal. “So you can’t blame us for wanting some direction,” he said, and Hannibal and Face both shuddered at the huskiness in his voice.
“He’s right,” agreed Face after a pause in which he nipped at Murdock’s ear. “Help us out here, bossman.”
Murdock’s fingers slipped under the hem of Face’s t-shirt. “We’re babes in the woods, lost without anyone to guide us.”
There was one thing that was still bothering Hannibal (at least, one thing that wasn’t straining against the zipper of his pants). “Your dares,” he said. “The first ones, to each other. What were they?”
Face and Murdock glanced at each other. It was Murdock who answered. “I dared him to do something he’s wanted to do for a long time.” He shrugged and batted Face’s hand away as the blond tried to tug at his chest hair. “That’s it.”
Well, really. Who was Hannibal to deny them after that?
Despite the boy’s protests, the game really was over. No one seemed to mind Hannibal issuing more dares, though. And he didn’t mind their gasping commentary.
“...bite him there, just below his ear. I wanna be able to see the mark...”
“Oh god. Fuck...”
“Mmm...”
“...take of his pants, but don’t touch him yet...”
“Please. I can’t- Oh god.”
“...kiss him anywhere except the mouth...”
“Do that again. There. Right there.”
“...not yet...”
“Oh. Oh...”
“...take him...”
“Holy fuck.”
“Oh god, Face.”
“...faster...”
“I know, buddy, I know.”
“...turn around...”
“Please. Mmm. Oh please.”
“...harder...”
“...don’t let him cum, not yet...”
“You just- I- Oh. Oh... OH...”
“...now...”
They came simultaneously, on Hannibal’s command, shuddering and gasping their releases into each other’s skin. They gripped each other as tightly as their trembling muscles would allow and rode the waves together until the last of the aftershocks faded and they collapsed to the carpet at Hannibal’s feet. They rolled onto their backs like exhausted puppies, covered in sweat and cum, smiling at their Colonel as they instinctively cuddled together.
No matter what BA said, this beat poker any day of the week.
Fandom: A-Team movieverse
Genre: Humour/crack, smut
Rating: M
Warnings: Slash, language, mild sexytimes
Summary: For a challenge on A-Team Prompts, as always. The A-Team plays Truth Or Dare.
The barriers were broken down, as many personal barriers are, by a metric shit-tonne of alcohol.
Metric measurements were being used because they were in Canada. Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan, to be precise. Murdock had suggested the town when they were brainstorming places to lay low from the US Army and once he’d managed to convince the team that yes, it really did exist (an atlas was produced and everything), they’d packed up and left within the hour. Even BA had only put up a token protest at the prospect of flying. Funny how the thought of ten years in prison can make a man reassess his phobias.
Thus beganeth the A-Team’s self-imposed exile to the Canadian wilderness. Well, the Canadian small townyness.
Pluses of Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan: Humorous name. Relative anonymity. Decent rented cottage on the outskirts of town. Well-stocked liquor store. Opportunity to use colourful Canadian money with birds on it. Minuses of Moose Jaw: Boredom. Veritable house-arrest. Cabin fever. Tetchiness. Boredom.
All told, the Minuses of Moose Jaw made that last item on the Pluses list very important indeed.
By the third day, drinking had become something of a pastime for the four ex-Rangers. And because they couldn’t do anything by halves or in anything less than spectacular style (and because they were really, really bored), the pastime had grown more and more elaborate as the days went on. It was only a matter of time before somebody suggested drinking games.
Hannibal had commented that perhaps they were too old for that kind of thing. Face and Murdock had dissolved into giggles and taken sloppy sips of Molston.
“That’s one!” said Face gleefully.
“Every time you tell us we’re being immature or say ‘Boys!’ in that Dad kind of way, we take a drink,” explained Murdock.
“What you fools playing at now?” groaned BA, because he was too tired for this shit.
They snorted with laughter, took another sip each and didn’t reply.
No one was sure when Hannibal and BA “officially” joined in, but by the time Face had bemoaned the loss of his tan in the pale Canadian sun for the third time (one sip each), and Murdock had started speaking in Mandarin for a few minutes without realising why no one could understand him (two sips), the entire team was well and truly toasted. Hannibal’s constant cigar smoking (one sip) and BA’s insults (one sip) alone would have been enough to give lesser drinkers alcohol poisoning.
After a couple of hours, Hannibal got bored. He was the savvy intellect of the group, after all.
“Something else!” he demanded, holding out his hand for another drink which Face, intuitive beyond the effects of mortal substances, immediately provided. “Let’s do something else!”
Murdock seemed to fancy himself something of an expert on time-passing games, thanks to all his experience in tediously bland hospital environments. Unfortunately, he was used to playing with people whose mental conditions were, well...
“How about What’s That Odour?” Murdock suggested. “Mystery Taste Test? Who’s Finger Is That, that’s a good one. Ancient Weapon Or Sex Act?”
“How about Truth or Dare?” cut in Hannibal, naming the first thing that came into his head without thinking it through properly.
“Sure, pops,” agreed Face. “Wanna braid each other’s hair too?”
“Shut up, brat.”
“Ooh, we can tell ghost stories! I can’t remember how it starts, but the call was coming from inside the house!”
Hannibal threw a Sleeman’s Lager bottle at Face. It wasn’t empty. It caused a bit of a kerfuffle when Face batted the bottle away and it spilled all over BA. Murdock, still gamely playing the first drinking game, had to finish his entire beer as the Corporal railed at the blond.
“RIGHT!” Three sheets to the wind, Hannibal’s nuanced leadership techniques had evaporated down to “Try to be louder than everyone else”. It worked. “Truth or Dare. Let’s go.”
“Your idea, you’re up first, boss,” said BA, accepting Face’s apology offering of a fresh bottle of cider.
Hannibal met his challenge with a defiant stare. It looked in two directions at once at one point, but was still quite impressive. “No problem. Face!”
The blond saluted - the Boy Scout’s salute. “Sir!”
“Truth or dare?”
Face answered instantly. “Dare.”
Murdock and BA laughed. “So predictable, Faceman,” said BA. “You wouldn’t tell us the truth anyway, would ya?”
Face tried to look offended. “I don’t have to answer that,” he said tossing his nose in the air. “It’s not your turn. Hannibal, please proceed.” He spat on himself a little when trying to pronounce ‘proceed’, but was otherwise the picture of dignity.
“Alright, dare.” For once, Hannibal hadn’t thought this far ahead. “I dare you... to eat the leftovers Murdock cooked last night.”
Three groans started before he’d even finished issuing his challenge. “What?” asked Hannibal, put out. “What’s wrong with that?”
“It’s so lame, boss,” said Face.
“Gotta say, I expected more from you,” said BA, shaking his head in disappointment. “You’re supposed to be the creative one.”
“Maybe he’s just building up to the good ones,” said Murdock, not wanting Hannibal to feel bullied. He turned to his leader encouragingly. “That’s what you were doing, isn’t it, Hannibal? Starting off small. That’s why you picked such a wimpy dare, right?”
“For gods’ sake,” Hannibal grumbled. “What would you suggest, then?”
A positively devilish grin spread across Murdock’s face, spread over to Face’s and put on a new jacket to arrive on BA’s lips as a half-smirk.
“If it were me,” Murdock jumped in before the other two could answer, “I’d do something like this.” He turned to his friend. “Faceman, I dare you...” He leaned over to Face, whispering something in his ear while they both shot impish looks to Hannibal and BA. Honestly, sometimes it was hard to believe that they were in their mid-thirties, the way they carried on like a couple of adolescents.
Face’s cheeks grew a bit pink as Murdock pulled back after relaying his challenge, but the mischievous smirk didn’t leave his lips. He eyed Hannibal with a very strange, almost predatory expression.
“Hey, that ain’t fair,” protested BA as Hannibal started regretting everything that had led to this moment, up to and including enrolling in the Army because Face was looking at him in a way that promised nothing good. “You can’t tell just him. You gotta tell everybody.”
Face had slid out of his chair with an annoying amount of grace and was now marching with purpose towards Hannibal’s armchair. It didn’t take long - they were only a few feet apart. He really could have just leaned over to do what he was about to do.
What he did was plop himself in Hannibal’s lap and, holding the other man’s arms down with a firm grip so he wouldn’t be shoved away, press his lips to his Colonel’s.
Everything went still. Face’s lips were wet with beer and tasted like hops. He was holding his breath and keeping his mouth closed. It was chaste. It was strange. It was over in just a few seconds.
Face and Hannibal pulled back at the same time.
“Uh,” said Face, rocking backwards and slipping off the older man’s lap. His skin was flushed and he tugged at the collar of his shirt as he fell back into his own chair. “Dare completed.”
“Boooo!” Murdock was the only one who wasn’t flummoxed by the turn of events, of course. His eyes were slightly glassy. BA made a note to ask Hannibal if it was really okay for him to mix his meds with alcohol, as the pilot kept insisting. “That doesn’t count! I’ve gone further than that with my grandmother.”
“Yeah, but you’re from the South,” quipped Face, recovering enough to make a dirty joke.
Murdock just shook his head. “Everyone’s letting me down in this game,” he said ruefully. “You’re all so tame.” He sucked his pear cider through a whirly novelty straw he’d found in a 7/11 last week.
Face narrowed his eyes, embarrassment temporarily displaced by irrationally bruised pride. “My turn.” He fixed his gaze on Murdock. “Truth or dare?”
“Dare, natch.”
Face had been expecting that. “Same thing you just dared me.”
Hannibal tensed as the pilot stood, hands reflexively springing up and curling into claws to ward off the expected assault. To his surprise, Murdock ignored him and beelined straight for BA. Before the bigger man realised what was happening, Murdock was straddling him. It was an awkward fit - armchairs weren’t meant for such debauched activities and it ended up being a kind of kneeling crouch rather than a proper straddle - but the intent was clear and BA had no time to struggle before Murdock’s lips latched onto his.
As if proving a point, which he probably was, Murdock’s kiss was a far cry from Face’s. He held Bosco’s head between his hands and licked and lapped at the larger man’s mouth. At some point, BA’s jaw went slack and Murdock took it as an invitation. The wet sounds of his tongue working in Bosco’s mouth were somehow the most intimate and erotic things Hannibal had ever heard. This shouldn’t have been happening. Something in the air had changed and this wasn’t just playing anymore. They’d all fallen over a precipice that Hannibal hadn’t even seen.
Finally, Murdock surfaced for air. He kept his face close to BA for a moment after they parted, and Hannibal couldn’t see from his angle but it looked like he might have gently brushed his lips against the other man’s one more time before pulling back and returning to his own seat.
“Done!” he announced brightly, but his voice was rough and his eyes were even more glazed than before. BA was rubbing his mouth in a way that could have been taken for disgust. Could have. Murdock cleared his throat. “So, who’s next? BA!” Bosco flinched. “Truth or dare.”
BA looked at Face, Hannibal and Murdock. “Truth.”
Murdock nodded, rubbing his hands together like a mad scientist. “Good, good. Truth. Veritas. Non-fiction. Realiness.” He pointed to BA. “Was that kiss as horrible as you would have expected? Remember, you have to be honest.”
“You’re not allowed to fish for compliments!” protested Face. “That’s not even a real question.”
BA glowered and grit his teeth. “No,” he ground out.
Murdock pretended not to hear. “No what?”
BA closed his eyes, trying to remember how to not commit homicide. “No, it wasn’t as bad as I woulda thought.”
Murdock threw a fist in the air victoriously. “Hooray! That’s all I needed. Thanks, big guy.”
“You know I’m gonna kill you, fool.”
Murdock nodded indulgently. “I know Bosco, I know. You’re very scary.”
“BA’s turn,” said Hannibal, hoping that the Corporal would steer things back onto a sane and definable track. Face and Murdock could get caught up in each other’s mania and go for hours.
“That’s right,” said BA, as if he’d forgotten himself. “Okay. Faceman. Truth or dare.”
Face took a swig of his drink. “Dare! Caution to the wind!” He and Murdock high-fived. It was a long reach; Murdock nearly fell off his chair but recovered in the nick of time. They high-fived again for thwarting gravity.
BA pondered for a moment. He didn’t want to sink to their level, he really didn’t. It was stupid and immature and made him kind of uncomfortable. On the other hand, they deserved it.
“I dare you and Crazy to kiss.” He glared at both of them. “Then we’re even.”
That logic didn’t make one bit of sense but no one noticed. Face and Murdock stood up and met each other halfway in the middle of the room. There was no preamble: Grinning, they two of them launched at each other with full force. BA wondered why he had expected different, then reminded himself it was because he wasn’t a pervert who spent his time wondering what would happen if his teammates made out. This was so weird.
Hannibal, meanwhile, was slightly hypnotised. Face and Murdock moved together like they’d done this a million times before, which he was sure they hadn’t. He would have known - they wouldn’t have been able to keep it quiet. It was just the way they did everything, he realised. They were so in sync with each other’s moods and traits that it made sense that this would be another area in which they were in tune.
They grasped each other firmly, Murdock’s arms around Face’s waist and the conman’s hands threading through the pilot’s hair. There was no shame or modesty in their actions. They kissed hard and fierce, mouths opening wide for each other as they yielded and dominated in turn. It was more like a dance than a kiss, Hannibal mused as they turned and he could see that they were pressed against each other firmly, not a single atom of light visible between them. Murdock’s hands slipped down to rest just above the curve of Face’s ass.
Hannibal didn’t realise how intently he’d been watching, and how slack his own mouth had become, until they finally separated. Breathing heavily and giving each other one of those strange smiles like they knew the punch line before anyone else knew there was a joke, Face and Murdock pulled apart. Partially, at any rate. Their lower bodies remained firmly plastered together and their hands didn’t move.
“And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you complete a dare!” Of course Face would find an excuse to brag.
“Hell yeah,” echoed Murdock. His lips were swollen and pulled into a wide grin.
BA had absolutely no response to that.
Face didn’t let the momentum die, too hyped up to notice or care about the moods of the others in the room. His hips twitched reflexively against Murdock’s. “My turn now.” He craned his neck over one shoulder, then the other, then shuffled himself and Murdock around so they could both see Hannibal. “Colonel, truth or dare.”
Hannibal swallowed. Twice. “Truth,” he managed. He had the feeling that both were a risk at this stage, but for some reason the idea of stopping the game didn’t occur to him as an option.
Sure enough, Face resembled nothing more than a shark as he said, “You liked watching us just now, didn’t you?”
This had to be against all sorts of military procedures. They told you that keeping an unorthodox team would bite you in the ass, Smith, Hannibal chided himself. They told you and you wouldn’t listen. Fuck this. He was a man. He could answer a simple question. There was nothing to be ashamed of here.
“Yes,” Hannibal replied, trying very hard to look nonchalant. “Yes I did.”
“That’s good,” said Murdock. “’Cause I’m gonna do it again.”
Face’s head snapped back towards him. “What, what?”
Murdock didn’t answer. Not verbally, anyway. For all his surprise, Face caught up admirably.
“That’s it!” BA stood up and pushed past the entwined men, who didn’t react, and stormed towards his bedroom down the hall. “I’m out. This is too weird, man. Too weird.” His voice faded as his door slammed shut behind him.
Face and Murdock didn’t rise to his grumblings for once. Hannibal wasn’t sure what to do. The sight before him was captivating. But BA was right. This was getting out of hand. There was no way this was part of the game anymore. Hannibal wasn’t sure what this was. He definitely felt strange watching it, though. Like he was intruding on something private and incredibly intimate.
Ignoring the warmth in his cheeks because Colonels don’t blush, Hannibal went to stand up. The chair scraped backwards an inch or so on the hardwood floor. At the sound, his Captain and Lieutenant broke their embrace and looked at him.
“Where are you going?” panted Face. His eyes were lidded.
“Aren’t you gonna play anymore?” Damn it, how did Murdock manage to sound so disappointed with Face holding him like that?
“I think the game’s over, boys,” said Hannibal wryly, indicating the way they were clinging to each other like muscular, attractive limpets.
“Doesn’t have to be.” And damned if Face didn’t arch himself into Murdock like a fucking cat. Murdock made a noise of approval low in his throat.
Hannibal’s mouth was dry and his jeans were tight. He had the sensation of walking on a thin rope between two tall buildings - and having done just that more than once, he knew what he was talking about. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t want to stop,” said Face plainly.
“Me neither,” said Murdock. “Two against one.”
He had to ask. At this point, he couldn’t see that they’d get offended. “Boys, do you... Is this your first time, together?”
They nodded, too instantly and with expressions too open to be disingenuous.
Murdock leaned into Face, nuzzling into Face’s hair while keeping his eyes on Hannibal. “So you can’t blame us for wanting some direction,” he said, and Hannibal and Face both shuddered at the huskiness in his voice.
“He’s right,” agreed Face after a pause in which he nipped at Murdock’s ear. “Help us out here, bossman.”
Murdock’s fingers slipped under the hem of Face’s t-shirt. “We’re babes in the woods, lost without anyone to guide us.”
There was one thing that was still bothering Hannibal (at least, one thing that wasn’t straining against the zipper of his pants). “Your dares,” he said. “The first ones, to each other. What were they?”
Face and Murdock glanced at each other. It was Murdock who answered. “I dared him to do something he’s wanted to do for a long time.” He shrugged and batted Face’s hand away as the blond tried to tug at his chest hair. “That’s it.”
Well, really. Who was Hannibal to deny them after that?
Despite the boy’s protests, the game really was over. No one seemed to mind Hannibal issuing more dares, though. And he didn’t mind their gasping commentary.
“...bite him there, just below his ear. I wanna be able to see the mark...”
“Oh god. Fuck...”
“Mmm...”
“...take of his pants, but don’t touch him yet...”
“Please. I can’t- Oh god.”
“...kiss him anywhere except the mouth...”
“Do that again. There. Right there.”
“...not yet...”
“Oh. Oh...”
“...take him...”
“Holy fuck.”
“Oh god, Face.”
“...faster...”
“I know, buddy, I know.”
“...turn around...”
“Please. Mmm. Oh please.”
“...harder...”
“...don’t let him cum, not yet...”
“You just- I- Oh. Oh... OH...”
“...now...”
They came simultaneously, on Hannibal’s command, shuddering and gasping their releases into each other’s skin. They gripped each other as tightly as their trembling muscles would allow and rode the waves together until the last of the aftershocks faded and they collapsed to the carpet at Hannibal’s feet. They rolled onto their backs like exhausted puppies, covered in sweat and cum, smiling at their Colonel as they instinctively cuddled together.
No matter what BA said, this beat poker any day of the week.