One for the Crowd
"What're you doing?" Face hisses it against Hannibal's ear; because it's the only thing he's able to do. He's crowded in against the wall -and that alone is making him twitchy, and Hannibal's right there, with his mouth pressing along Face's neck.
"Change in plan," Hannibal's voice is muffled against Face's skin, and Face absently tips his head so he can hear what Hannibal is saying rather than just feel it. "They think you're my boy. Just go with it."
Just going with it is a little bit of an issue, because he's not nearly prepared enough for this and it's thrown him for a loop already. Hannibal doesn't really help matters, bringing a hand up to tilt Face's head upwards before pressing a kiss to his lips. And okay, it's a little weird, but it's a kiss, and Face is good at kissing. He puts his thinking on the back burner, and as Hannibal lightly presses out with his tongue, Face responds like it were any other kiss.
Hannibal's lips are deceptively soft, as he carefully and skilfully takes control of the kiss. Face brings his hands to Hannibal's hips, accepting that, okay; this is what The Plan needs now, so just go with it. And just when he thinks they've put on enough of a show, Hannibal tilts his head to the side and deepens the kiss. There's a hand in his hair, keeping him right where he is, although the body pushing him into the wall does that all on it's own, and Hannibal's other hand just strokes over his cheek softly. Face groans as Hannibal licks through his mouth, leaning up towards Hannibal, actually being drawn further into the kiss than he'd intended to be.
When Hannibal draws back, Face stays still against the wall, swallowing and licking his lips while Hannibal pressed his forehead to Face's. "We're gonna need to make this convincing kid, so just trust me."
And since Face is still figuring out his own footing, he just nods slightly, wondering just what Hannibal's plan is for this.
They ride to Hannibal's room in silence, Face trying to pull himself into the part without too much showing. B.A tells them through the comm that Hannibal's room is bugged with cameras, but no audio. It's good, if they can mask their lips, they can talk. It's a plus. It's the only thing that seems to be in their favour on this mission so far.
The intel was bad from the get go. Three players they were told, three people pulling the strings. Really, it was two and the three that had been seen were the henchmen sent to oversee everything. They had two unknowns that needed to be known and things had been improvised the rest of the way. Apparently to the point of Hannibal claiming Face as 'his boy' and going with it. He's sure that he can play it off, that he and Hannibal can manage whatever they need to do until B.A and Murdock come through with solid intel and they can finish what they'd started and do it right this time. "Bathroom is clean, boss. You guys should be good in there."
It means that at the very least, they've got a place to take off whatever skin they need to slip into, although Face hopes it doesn't get so drawn out that they need to. They get into the room and Hannibal wraps his arms around Face's waist from behind, and Face only just manages not to tense. "Go get yourself together," it's whispered against his ear and Face just nods, turning his head into the soft pressure of Hannibal's mouth because he's aware enough of the cameras. As he walks to the bathroom, removing his jacket and tossing it over the end of the bed -the big, queen sized, four poster bed, Face hears Hannibal turn on the television as he closes the bathroom door behind him and presses his head to the cold tiles of the wall.
"Y'okay there, Faceman?" It's Murdock's voice in his ear, and Face sighs against the wall.
"Yeah, Murdock, I'll be fine." He's not sure how he's going to pull this off, but he knows he needs to. They've got seven kids depending on this, three young families who need this plan to work. "You guys come up with anything yet?"
"We're working on it." Face pushes himself upright, turning to walk towards the sink and splash some water on his face, pulling himself together, like Hannibal ordered. "Got a name; Wiltshire. Now, B.A says that's a place, like in the country somewhere in some country. But I'm sure it's a type of cow. You know?"
"Wiltshire is a place in England, it's where Stonehenge is." And Murdock makes a long, drawn out noise.
"Okay, so it's probably a person they're talking about. Because 'Wiltshire' is coming to inspect the goods tomorrow. B.A's working on those goods and I'm looking into Wiltshire." Face hopes the maybe Murdock can stay focused enough to figure it out before tomorrow, because wrapping this up quick would be a blessing.
"Right, Murdock. Hannibal know all this?"
"Yup, big guy told him everything. You know, you should just think of this all as a game, you know?" Face is staring in the mirror as Murdock makes the suggestion, putting everything but the job to the back of his mind and telling himself to just get on with it. "Hannibal's your sugar daddy, and you're his pretty boy." Face snorts slightly and rolls his eyes.
"Thanks for the advice Murdock. Good luck on the hunting."
"And a good luck to you, Facey. Don't wear Hannibal out too much." And it's shocking that he actually sees the blush rise at that. It's not that Face has much problem with playing along, not at all. Had the whole thing been planned beforehand, he knows for sure none of this would bother him. He'd have been prepared for it, he'd have been ready. But it wasn't planned, and when Hannibal pinned him and kissed him, he hadn't been prepared.
And he had liked it far too much for his own comfort.
When Face leaves the bathroom, Hannibal is sitting on the bed, sans shoes, socked feet crossed at his ankles, legs stretched out, watching the television. It's a luxury they don't often have; it's not really something they're too interested in, except Murdock watching cartoons first thing in the morning. Face just smirks slightly as Hannibal looks over and gives him the nod to join him. He toes off his shoes and leaves them at the end of the bed, crawling over to lean back against the headboard, sitting hip to hip with Hannibal.
Hannibal raises an arm, drawing it around Face's shoulders and coaxing Face to lean against him. It's only slightly awkward, but Face quickly relaxes into it, eyes on the television as he watches CNN and rests his head on Hannibal's shoulder. It's automatic to lay his hand on Hannibal's thigh, and since Hannibal doesn't say anything, he leaves it there.
It's comfortable, and Face figures it'll be like this in no time. He might be a little jumpy about it right now, but he knows that if he slips up, he and Hannibal could be killed and he's not about to let this be what does them in. And it's Hannibal; they've practically lived in each others pockets for ten years now, more than that. They Army made them comfortable in the weirdest situations together, and being on the run just made them all the more dependent on each other. Face knew that he and Hannibal could do this, so long as he stopped thinking on it too hard and just got with the program.
He didn't even realise he'd fallen asleep on Hannibal's shoulder until he was nudged awake and met with the slightly smirking face of his CO. "C'mon kid, get some sleep." Face rubbed his eyes to waken a little, not enough that he'd be up and awake for too long and slid from the bed. Hannibal was already out of his shirt and slacks and socks while Face was still undoing his cuffs. He wasn't sure why he felt so tired, only that every function he could usually perform on autopilot was slowed to a near stop. Hannibal seemed to be amused about it. "So this is what watching hard hitting current affairs stories does to you?" There's an edge to Hannibal's tone, this long standing amusement and affection that makes Face shrug slightly, even as Hannibal walks around the bed to stand in front of Face, unbuttoning his shirt while Face finally gets his cuff links out.
"Political gossiping is not hard hitting." Face argues as Hannibal pushes the shirt away from Face's shoulders. Hannibal's hands follow the shirt sleeves, running along Face's arms and pushing the shirt to the floor when it pools around his wrists. Face is too drawn into the soft petting along his arms to focus on undressing, even as one of Hannibal's hands shifts to stroke along his side, palm sliding around to run up Face's spine and the other deftly removing Face's belt. Hannibal steps closer to Face then, and Face reads the situation quickly and meets Hannibal's lips easily.
It's slow and easy, and Face thinks this is probably what the con will end up being. As Hannibal unfastens his slacks, knuckles brushing Face's stomach softly, Face sighs into Hannibal's mouth. "You okay with this, kid?" Face gives a soft nod, mostly just brushing his lips against Hannibal's while his hands move up the Colonel's sides, fingers stroking over carefully crafted muscles. Face's slacks are kicked off, and usually, he'd clean up after himself, but he's not exactly bothered right then, and Hannibal just draws him under the covers of the ridiculously fancy bed. The mattress is near perfect and nearly melts into it and against Hannibal. There's a small chuckle from Hannibal, even as Face neatly arranges himself to lean on Hannibal's shoulder again, arm around Hannibal's waist and their legs tangled just slightly. "Damn octopus." It's muttered against his head, masked with a kiss to his forehead and Face just hums in agreement.
And why not, really? He doesn't often share a bed with someone he trusts enough to just relax.
Morning comes with the blaring of an alarm that Face is trying to ignore. He might've managed it if Hannibal hadn't stretched over him to turn it off. Somehow, they've shifted from the position they fell asleep in. Face is lying on his side, facing the wall, with Hannibal spooned along his back. The stretch across him just presses Hannibal all along his back and just happens to push a morning erection into his ass. It's a low moan, and he barely realises he's made the noise until Hannibal's hands run over his side and down his flank. That's when he starts to wake up.
"Morning." Hannibal slides back into place behind Face, arms wrapped around his waist and back pressed to his chest. It's an automatic response to lean back into the embrace, and it works well. Hannibal presses light kisses along Face's neck while his hands stroke gently at Face's stomach. "We've got to find out what this package is that's being picked up today." With his lips turned into Face's throat, any cameras in the room would just pick up the both of them lazing in bed for the last few minutes before needing to get up. And then, well, they'd need to get dressed and go out. There's just the issue of Face supposedly being Hannibal's boy and the blatant fact that they would be expected to screw.
"Shower?" Two bird's one stone. Face is back on his game, he's slipped into the role and he's comfortable with it. Rolling, with a grin on his face, he twists and pulls himself upright until he's straddling Hannibal and the sheets pool around them. He's more than aware of the erection pressing into his ass in this position, and he knows Hannibal can feel his. There's a moment of surprise on Hannibal's face until he schools it away, his hands running up Face's sides before stroking down to rest on his hips. "Don't have time for both," Face glances over at the clock, and true enough, Hannibal has to be in the lobby in twenty minutes, and Face is due to meet with their client in an hour.
Hannibal smirks and sits up, hands pulling Face to stay where he is and Face has to bite his lip to stop from groaning at the pressure against his cock. "Good idea," Hannibal says it with that little smirk again, and Face is starting to realise what the smirk means. Face carefully extracts himself from Hannibal's lap and climbs off the bed, heading towards the bathroom when Hannibal presses into his back again. This time Hannibal's hands don't stay above the waist, one sliding into Face's boxers and stroking along his hard on, pulling Face back to lean against Hannibal's chest while the other hand strokes Face's throat in the exact same way the other strokes along his cock. Hannibal is the only thing that keeps them walking, Face's head falling back to Hannibal's shoulder as he's directed to the bathroom.
This was something he had not expected, at all. He was sure he'd be riding the edge of sexual tension until the job closed. He wasn't sure what to make of the new little development, only that Hannibal seemed to want to keep him on his toes for this case.
As the door slams shut behind them, Face expects that Hannibal will release him. But he doesn't. Hannibal leans against the door, the hand on Face's throat stroking down his chest while the hand in his boxers continues to slowly jack him off. "Hannibal," Face is shocked at just out breathless he sounds, "what're you," he can't even finish the sentence without groaning and pressing back against Hannibal.
"C'mon kid, into the shower." Hannibal doesn't answer any question, instead pushing Face's boxers off and then his own. He stops his slow stroking along Face's cock long enough to pull the conman into the shower and get the water running and Face can't stop long enough to wonder why he feels perfectly comfortable in the shower with Hannibal. "How nice, they even have that expensive crap you like so much."
"Good taste," the act of getting washed distracts him enough from the situation that Face can stop thinking, mostly. He'd been sure that Hannibal couldn't throw anything at him he couldn't deal with, having found the skin that felt comfortable for the job and the mindset to just get through it. But Hannibal seemed intent on keeping Face off his game, seemed to be making a point of it. And Face isn't sure how to counteract that.
"Turn around; I'll get your back." It's just natural to do what Hannibal asks, and the strong, sure hands that scrub over his back really do work out any residual tension from his muscles. It's easy to relax against the spray and Hannibal's hands but it's not like they have a lot of time to enjoy it. When Hannibal's finished washing his back, he's directed to turn around again, his back to the shower head to clean off the soap. Hannibal steps in that little bit closer and Face raises an eyebrow. They don't have to play the roles in here, don't have to pretend, but Hannibal seems to think something else completely. Hannibal pulls them together at the hips, and as Face gasps at the contact, Hannibal covers his mouth, tongue sliding in with the opportunity. Face thinks it might be some kind of test, to see if he can just give it up and go along with the whole thing, and Face is never one to back down from a challenge. The fact that it's private, not a show, not for an audience, Face thinks that might make it easier, because it's surprisingly easy right then. Letting go and just feeling; Hannibal's hand sliding along his spine and down to the curve of his ass, their hips pressing together and then Hannibal twists them, pulling Face out of water spray and pressing him into the cool tiles of the wall.
"Hannibal, what-" once again, he doesn't get to finish his sentence, Hannibal pressing a hard kiss to his mouth, biting at his lips and sucking on the bottom one and licking into his mouth. Face doesn't really get a chance to do much but hold onto Hannibal's hips as they flex and press into his own, rubbing their erections together and reducing Face to gasps and moans.
"Gotta make it believable kid," Hannibal tells him as he bites at Face's ear, a soft whine escaping Face's throat. Hannibal wraps a hand around both of their cocks; jacking them off together as Face bucks up into the hold, "Need you to walk out of here looking so thoroughly fucked."
"Christ," Face's head hits the tiles with a dull thump, just as Hannibal catches his mouth to nip his bottom lip again, "I didn't realise you were a method actor, shit, Hannibal." The grip tightens and Hannibal leans in to bite at Face's throat, and Face instantly arches his neck to allow it, moaning and gripping to Hannibal's arm. The grip tightened, Hannibal pressing closer to Face and groaning slightly. Another bite to Face's neck and on the next stroke he shook apart, coming between them, Hannibal moaning into Face's neck and following after a few more strokes.
Hannibal pressed against Face, the water still running over his back as they both caught their breath. Face was still working on that when Hannibal pulled him back under the spray, cleaning off their stomachs and his hand and rising off the mess. "C'mon, or we'll be late." Face just hums a response, following Hannibal from the shower and taking the towel offered and briskly drying off. Both of them leave the bathroom with towels around their waists, and while Hannibal has to hurry to get dressed if he's going to make it to the lobby on time, Face still has enough time to enjoy the heavy, sated pleasure in his limbs.
Sitting on the end of the bed, Face takes the opportunity to just watch Hannibal get dressed. Leaning back with the towel around his waist, holding himself up on his hands, just watching the muscles play over Hannibal's back as he pulls his shirt on, having already found a pair of slacks and belt. Hannibal turns to find Face watching him and the conman just grins, "Okay, kid, enough of a show for you." Although there's a smirk on his face as he says it. The cuff links -carefully fitted with a tracking device, the same as Face's cuff links- are slotted into place and Hannibal buttons up his shirt. "You're meeting with the contractors on the plans for the mall development, and I will meet with Mr Bennet. Join me for lunch?" Hannibal makes it sound like a request, but Face knows the drill.
Hannibal stops in front of Face, his hands on the ends of the bright red silk tie, and Face leans up, taking the ends of the tie with a smirk. "Yeah," he smoothes his hands down over the tie, brushing Hannibal's hands away, and skilfully knots the tie perfectly before sliding it into place, "the little Bistro in the Grove?" Tucking down Hannibal's collar, Face gave a little smirk as Hannibal nodded. Face gave a small pout as Hannibal went to pull away, tugging the older man back to him with his grip on the tie, getting a chuckle and a lingering kiss from it.
"Noon, at the Bistro, don't be late." Hannibal gave Face another quick kiss before smoothing his hand over his tie and turning away, collecting his jacket before walking out the door with one last grin thrown in Face's direction. The door clicked shut and Face let himself fall back on the bed. He gave himself three minutes before scrubbing his hand over his face and moving to get dressed. There was a client to meet, and Face wanted to see Murdock and find out what he and B.A had found out so that he had some good news for Hannibal at lunch.
Face meets Murdock at the construction site, and he has to wonder what made the pilot put on the foreman's gear, but he doesn't ask. Nick and Marsha meet them in the building and they exchange information. The job is going well and Nick is happy to take the progress back to the other families to let them know. Murdock and Face stay behind a little while after the couple leave.
"Anything on the package being picked up?"
"Its rubies, Facey. Pretty little red ones." Face just nods, and wonders what the connection is.
"I don't get it, why would Bennet be dealing rubies? It's not like it's illegal to sell them, or buy them. And what's he getting for them?" Murdock shrugged, making the 'I'm-not-really-sure-what-you're-talking-about-because-I-stopped-listening-ages-ago' face. "What'd you get about Wiltshire?"
"Oh, he's a slippery little snake, he is. There are four Wiltshire's that we found. If it's Michael Wiltshire, run away and hide the children, but he should be doing fifteen years in a state prison in Idaho, so it's probably not him." Face resists the urge to tell Murdock to get on with it, because he knows he can't rush the guy. "More than likely, it's Patrick Wiltshire; he's the CEO of a major demolition company. Can't figure out why they want to buy out a construction site though."
Face is feeling a headache coming on, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his finger and thumb. "Okay, so we'll just play that by ear." They're playing everything by ear, and Face wonders if it's not frustrating the hell out of Hannibal to be doing so. There's no plan, no structure. They're winging it every step of the way.
"How's that going anyway? You and the boss." Murdock has this sort of pinched look on his face, his eyebrows furrowed and his lip worried between his teeth. Face wonders if this was the face Murdock had when he was trying to reassure Face last night.
"Okay, I guess. It's a little weird but," but Hannibal was doing remarkably better than Face was, although he didn't think he was doing bad, just that Hannibal seemed to be his required three steps ahead. But Face has always been good at catching up. "You okay there buddy?"
"Yeah, Billy just misses having you guys around. B.A is a little suffocating." It makes sense, and Face nods, Murdock and B.A have that friction that never seems to get in the way of them getting the job done, but it does seem to have affects on Murdock's moods just as much as it does on B.A's moods.
"Well, how about Billy comes with Hannibal and me? No one will know he's there, and I'll take care of him." Face wonders if sometimes Murdock really is insane, or if he is just a good actor. Either way, at the suggestion, Murdock's face lights up in a grin.
"Really? That'd be great," Murdock holds out what Face can only assume is Billy's leash, and Face has to take it. "B.A'll be glad for the peace and quiet." Face just smiles stiffly, considering the possibility that he just made a little bit of a mistake as far as Murdock went.
"Right, I've got an appointment to keep before lunch, you see what else you can dig up on Wiltshire, okay?" Face has a few ideas on just what the rubies could have to do with the case, and why a demolition company wanted the construction contract.
By the time the cab drops him at the Grove, and he walks to the Bistro, its three after noon and Face grins when he catches sight of Hannibal. The only problem is the two people with Hannibal. Face has enough skill in the con not to let that show on his face.
"Templeton," Hannibal spots him before the others, and he notices the exchange between the pair as he reaches Hannibal's side. Hannibal doesn't bother with any sort of public decency as he slides a hand into Face's hair, drawing him into a kiss right there in the middle of the street. Face leans into it, opening his mouth to Hannibal without pressing and sighing against his lips. One of their companions clears their throat and Hannibal takes his time drawing back, the hand remains in Face's hair, stroking slightly and Face can't believe how good it feels. "Templeton, this is Mr Bennet and Mr Wiltshire," Face keeps his expression blank as he looks between each man with a small nod, "they'll be joining us for lunch." There's a squeeze to his neck as Hannibal's hand draws out of his hair, and Face just nods.
They're seated quickly, a booth for the four of them, close to the window, facing the door and Face slips into the seat with Hannibal sliding in to sit beside him, possibly a little too close, but there's no comment made. Although Bennet and Wiltshire share a look and a smirk between them. Hannibal leans on the table, Face leaning into Hannibal's side, and conversation is easy and light. No one brings up business, and Hannibal bullshits his way through stories of his vineyard and the château they'll be retiring to following the completion of business here.
Face is pulled into the conversation only a few times, apparently he's better to be seen and not heard, but the fact that Hannibal constantly keeps them in physical contact throughout the lunch alleviates anything. Even at the end of lunch, when Face is just sipping from a coffee cup while Bennet rattles off some story to do with a Senator and his wife, Hannibal's hand is wrapped around Face's free wrist, stroking his fingers over the pulse point in Face's wrist.
Bennet insisted on footing the bill, and no one argued, less they seem ungrateful. It was around this time that Bennet and Wiltshire declared their need to leave. "It was a pleasure, Mr Jones," and Bennet gave Face a sly look as he turned to face him, "and Templeton, your company, it was a delight." Face really doesn't like the way it's said, but there's not much he can do except smile and nod slightly. Hannibal doesn't move out of the way or give any gesture that Face should bother to stand for either of them, so he stays exactly where he is, pressed against Hannibal.
Wiltshire and Bennet linger outside, talking quietly by the sidewalk. Hannibal just turns his body in towards Face, his arm stretching out over the back of the seat around Face's shoulders as they kept their heads in close. "Sorry about the sudden company," Hannibal makes it look like just any other conversation, his hand coming up from behind Face to stroke through his hair again, "but they were rather adamant about joining us for lunch."
Face shrugs a shoulder absently, "Well, it worked in our favour, now we know who Wiltshire is, should help B.A and Murdock." Face ends up toying with the cuff of Hannibal's sleeve, fingers sliding over the edge of the cuff, just brushing Hannibal's wrist. "They seem a little," he's not sure what word to use, how to describe it, it's a feeling he's been getting from them the whole duration of lunch. "I dunno, off?"
"We've been invited to a party in the hotel tonight," and that doesn't do anything to stop the belief that something is definitely up with this case. "So we're going shopping this afternoon, and you can fill me in on your meeting this morning." They wait a little while longer, and Bennet and Wiltshire leave the sidewalk before Hannibal and Face leave the Bistro. A driver brings Hannibal's car around and Face makes an absent comment about Hannibal getting the chauffeur while he's catching cabs.
"So what've we got?"
"Well, Wiltshire is definitely one of the two major players. He's a demolitions CEO and he's the one buying up the rubies -that's the package that was dropped today. Murdock and B.A are looking into the reasons." Face feels a little relieved to get back into his own skin for the moment -it's not something he'd usually do, but it feels better to actually know where he stands for at least the duration of the car journey to wherever they're going. "Nick and Marsha are up to date on all they really need to be up to date on." Because Face hadn't told them that all the information was wrong and they were winging it. He didn't really want any kind of panic from the client, did he.
"Good work." Hannibal claps a hand on Face's knee, and Face figures it's just because Hannibal is keeping things to the roles, he's just staying in character, and that's fair enough. "B.A and Murdock will break into Bennet's office tonight while we're being entertaining at the party."
"So where are we going." Hannibal turns his head towards Face, grinning at him with one of his 'I have a plan' grins.
"We're going to indulge in your expensive taste," and Face feels himself grinning back, "we're going shopping." And that grin just gets wider when they turn onto Rodeo Drive. "Don't say I don't spoil you kid."
Face isn't aware he's doing it until he's done it. He's slid across the seat of the car, nuzzled ever so slightly along Hannibal's throat and placed kisses along the jaw just offered up there. "You're far too good to me." Hannibal looks surprised, and even though Face didn't mean to do it, he just smirks at the old man, enjoying the fact that he got one over on Hannibal this time.
By the time they've shopped, and Face is certain that Hannibal spent the whole time staring at his ass; they've got more clothes than even Face knows what to do with. "Is there a reason we got so many?" The bell hop at the hotel had to hang everything over the baggage cart, there are suits and some stuff that Face knows is for B.A and Murdock and Hannibal went a little crazy, Face is sure of it.
"Don't want to have to stop for more anytime soon." Because despite amusing himself during their shopping trip today, Hannibal doesn't like shopping, and usually, Face just gets them whatever is needed at the time. "This way, everything is taken care of." So Face just shrugs and leans back in the elevator, watching the lights as they approach their floor.
The ding on their floor makes Face stand up straight, ready to follow Hannibal out of the box when Hannibal stops just at the door, "Mr Bennet, what a lovely surprise." If Bennet can tell that Hannibal doesn't mean it, he doesn't let it show on his face, just giving them both a stiff smile and glancing along the hall quickly.
"Mr Jones, I just thought I should confirm your presence tonight at the banquet." Hannibal steps from the elevator, walking along with Mr Bennet and Face smirks at the look on the bell hops face as he walked along behind Bennet and Hannibal.
"Naturally, I agreed, hadn't I?" They enter the suite, the cart of clothes pausing until Face nods the bell hop inside and sorts out the clothes into the closet before giving the poor guy a tip and letting him scurry off. Bennet seems to just stand there, looking around Hannibal and Face's room and watching Hannibal for something. Face stops watching Bennet and stares at a rather gaudy arrangement of flowers on the dresser.
"Yes, Templeton," Hannibal turns from the newspaper he was rather rudely reading while Bennet spoke and stares at Face. Face is aware that there's a good reason for it, Face is aware that he probably looks like a pouting teenager.
"Did you forget about my allergy?" His eyebrows furrow and he stares back at Hannibal, ignoring the snort from Bennet that his expression gets.
"Of course I didn't, why would-" Hannibal spots the flowers and stalks across the room, picking up the vase and holding it towards Bennet. "These were not requested, I would like them removed from my suite." Bennet flusters a little, spluttering about livening the place up before giving in and taking them. "Now if you'd excuse us, I do believe you would like our attendance tonight."
The door is barely closed before Hannibal closes the distance between them and kisses Face again, and Face is starting to worry himself with just how comfortable it's all becoming. It's just so simple; pressing into Hannibal's chest, the hands stroking through his hair to tilt his head, opening to Hannibal's tongue, holding to Hannibal's hips. It's painfully easy and Face loses his breath every damn time.
"Now we have a problem," Hannibal mutters it against his throat as he kisses along the column of flesh, "might have mics," and who knew what else. Nothing looked out of place with the flowers now removed, but they couldn't be too careful. "No shop talk in the room." And Face lost another place where he could be himself for the most part. He just gives a nod, running his hands up Hannibal's back and arching when Hannibal bites down on his pulse point. There's a litter of kisses back along his throat before Hannibal pulls him into another kiss, nipping lightly on the bottom lip before Face groans against Hannibal's mouth. It winds down, slowly becoming less of a rush as Hannibal just licks through Face's mouth, Face pressing to kiss back and pulling Hannibal all the more closer.
"I need a shower," Hannibal presses a soft kiss to Face's now swollen lips, leaning their foreheads together, "you order some room service, God knows you eat like a horse." Face just smiles and nods, licking his lips as Hannibal strokes a hand through his hair before stepping away and heading for the bathroom.
Face is pretty sure he might still die of sexual tension.
Hannibal takes a good long time in the shower, and Face figures he must be discussing whatever he needs to discuss with B.A for tonight. They'll be pulling things close if B.A and Murdock can get in and out of Bennet's office without getting caught. So long as Hannibal and Face can keep Bennet occupied downstairs, it should work out well. Face has gone as far as to change his pants, leaving his shirt and tie and waistcoat and jacket hanging on the frame of the bed while he watches some more of the news. Upon inspection of the room service menu, Face had opted simply for a bowl of fresh strawberries to pick at while he waited for Hannibal.
When the older man finally comes out of the bathroom, in just a rather short, navy silk bathrobe, Face is less than half way through the strawberries. "Can you believe this?" He points a strawberry at the television, keeping his eyes off Hannibal to make sure he doesn't do something stupid. "Cisco profits are up 79%." Hannibal smiles, eyes not once moving to the television and Face shakes his head as he bites into the strawberry in hand.
"Is that good?" Hannibal walks around to stand at the edge of the bed, where Face's legs are hanging off. It's a slow movement, Hannibal running his hand from Face's knee up to his thigh, then stroking back down.
Face manages to keep his smirk in place, "Good, not great. They missed the estimates." He's not really that bothered with the financial news, it's almost as boring as the political news. He is, however, very interested in what Hannibal's hand happens to be doing. He drops his eyes from meeting Hannibal's to glance down at the hand, still stroking from his knee to his thigh and back and Face is resisting the urge to spread his legs right then. "You're going to get my pants creased." Although he doesn't really care.
And Hannibal probably doesn't either, least of all when he nudges Face's legs apart, sliding between them and leaning forward to brace a hand on the bed by Face's head. "Strawberry?" Face has no idea why his stomach just flip-flopped, why his heart leapt into his throat, he knows exactly why his pants feel a little tighter, he knows exactly why his pulse has picked up. Lifting his hand, he expects that maybe Hannibal will stop stroking his leg to take it; instead, Hannibal leans down to take the piece from Face's fingers. It's the second that Hannibal's teeth brush the pads of Face's fingers that his hips buck slightly, earning a grin from Hannibal. Things are getting utterly out of control and Face isn't sure how the hell it's supposed to draw back from that. He's starting to believe that Hannibal's plan was flawed from the very start. He doesn't really get the chance to try to draw things back, to get himself under control since the situation is hopelessly out of control, not when Hannibal shifts his knee onto the bed, pushing Face's legs wider and using the hand to pull Face's leg up, hooking the knee over Hannibal's thigh. "Shit," Face's arches up into the contact, rubbing against the front of Hannibal's robe, pressing their cocks together.
There's a low groan from Hannibal as he presses his hips down, sparking pleasure along Face's nerves as his hand reaches out to slide under the robe, along Hannibal's ribs and digging into his back. Their lips meet in more of a clash than a kiss, and Face groans into Hannibal's mouth with the press of his tongue meeting Hannibal's. Running his hand down Hannibal's back, Face pushes the robe out of the way, he's sure he can hear his heart hammering, but the need and lust searing in his blood makes it easy to ignore.
What isn't easy to ignore is the sudden beeping; a low, constant beep/chirp of a mobile phone. Hannibal pulls back slightly, panting just a little and Face lets himself fall back on the bed. "Is that-"
"Yeah, that's mine." His head turns so he can glare in the general direction of the phone, in his jacket pocket. Hannibal pulls himself upright, stepping back from the bed and Face. It takes Face a good few seconds to pull himself together before pushing upright and stalking over to his jacket to reach his phone. "Yeah?" He's not surprised to hear Murdock's babbling on the other end and Face sighs and cracks the tension from his neck as he listens. "Okay, okay. I'll..." Murdock starts off again and Face turns to give Hannibal an apologetic look. Hannibal, however, is sitting on the bed, smirking as he eats what's left of Face's strawberries. "I'll meet you in a few minutes." He hangs up and drops the phone to the table, rubbing a hand over his face.
"Problem?" Hannibal stands, leaving the bowl of fruit where it is and moving towards Face. There's the lightest kiss pressed to Face's lips, and Face chases the taste of strawberries from Hannibal's lips.
"Just a little one," although from what he'd managed to understand of Murdock's babbling, it's just that they've found out what Wiltshire is up to and B.A thinks someone might be onto them. "It'll just take me an hour to sort out. Billy's in some kind of a panic." Hannibal just nods his head, and Face is pretty sure he's able to work out what's going on. "I'll be back for the party." Face leans up to press another kiss to Hannibal's lips, licking them lightly to catch a taste before pulling back and reaching for his shirt.
"Be careful, kid." Face turns to see the warning look on Hannibal's face, so he gives a nod instead of a smart comment, finishes buttoning his shirt and grabs the phone and jacket before leaving. He has however long it takes him to get from the suite to the parking garage to get his body under control. It's easier said than done.
He has no idea how he manages it, but the entire conversation with Murdock goes rather well. Of course, the fact that B.A is there to keep everything on point might've helped. "Okay, so the rubies that Wiltshire picked up were actually a sample to bring to his partner -he's gonna be here tonight for some party, are you and Hannibal going to-"
"Fool, shut up." Face didn't hide his smirk at their behaviour. For all the tension between him and Hannibal, B.A and Murdock's relying on each other would likely drive them to put a wall between each other for a few days after this job. "Wiltshire and his partner want the construction contract because the rubies are in an abandoned mine just off the property, but the only access to it-"
"Is on the site, so the demolition crew can get the contract, tear down the construction and rip into the old mine to find the rest of the rubies." Murdock had a manic grin on his face, while B.A just rolled his eyes.
"How's the boss working this?"
"Well, I think he's getting information from Bennet, even if Bennet doesn't realise it. We're going to this party tonight," Murdock looked like he was about to interrupt until B.A placed a hand on Murdock's shoulder in warning, "and we'll try and find out who this silent partner is. You guys set on Bennet's office?"
"Should be easy if Captain Crack-Pot stays on topic." Which was a problem in itself.
"Pfft, don't worry about it. We got the cables, we got the computers, it's a cinch." Murdock said it all in an off gangster-New York accent and Face shared a look with B.A.
"Well, good luck." He turned, ready to head back to the hotel when B.A called his name, "Yeah?"
"You and Hannibal okay?" The tone of the question told Face that B.A wasn't asking about their well-being, and Face struggled for a minute to think of the response. He couldn't really speak for Hannibal, although when did Hannibal ever let something bother him to the point of not being 'okay' with one of them. Face on the other hand wasn't sure if he was okay, he still couldn't keep his feet firmly on the ground and it was because Hannibal kept throwing him off game.
"Yeah, yeah, we're good." They just needed to get through the job, he kept telling himself. It was just the job.
Face makes it back to the room having been gone for just under the hour, they've got about fifteen minutes before they'll be rudely late, rather than fashionably late, and Face is pretty damn sure that wouldn't go down well. Hannibal is already dressed in another of those suits that fits damn near perfectly, the light blue of the shirt and the darker blue of the tie making Face glance between the shirt and Hannibal's eyes -he's very close to saying something ridiculously girlie when Hannibal clicks his cigar lighter closed.
"Everything okay, kid?"
"Yeah, fine. Sorted it all." He's slipping out of the shirt and dropping it over the back of the chair at the desk when Hannibal runs his hand over Face's shoulders, the fingers causing tingles along Face's skin. "You want to be late?" Because at this point, Face is pretty sure that the simplest of touches could lead to some rather questionable activities, and they're meant to be keeping Bennet downstairs.
"Just admiring before it gets put away." Face just shakes his head, slipping into his shirt and letting Hannibal run his hands over the fabric while he buttons up and fixes his cuff links. Hannibal actually goes as far as to pull out Face's waistcoat for him, he doesn't say a word as Hannibal helps him into it, and then bats his hand away when Face attempts to fasten it up. "Humour me." There's a slight chuckle from Face, but he doesn't stop Hannibal doing up the buttons on the waist coat, then sliding his hands down the front when he's finished. "Don't bother with a tie." The words are whispered against Face's ear, and it's entirely possibly that Hannibal just said the most erotic thing possible as Face feels his cock jump and has to bite back a moan.
"Any particular reason why not?" Face turns towards Hannibal, the older man's hands falling to Face's hips while Face leans into press a kiss to Hannibal's lips, they've got ten minutes now, and Face thinks maybe they should head towards the elevator at least.
"I have much better uses in mind." Hannibal's hands reach up to Face's elbows, sliding down to give Face's wrists a meaningful squeeze. There's a shudder through Face's body, and images flit through his mind, and he's really starting to hate this job just a little, and maybe Hannibal too. He's pulled towards the door of the suite by the front of his waistcoat, picking up the jacket as they pass.
"You are such a bastard." Face can't help but accuse, and Hannibal smirks at him as they head downstairs. Face seriously considers making out in the elevator.
The party is one of those painfully boring ones, where everyone is full of their own self importance and needs to throw that on everyone else. Face has spoken to three investment bankers he could swindle out of everything if he just put some charm into it, and three older women who know of a 'nice young girl' perfect for him. Face is sure than Hannibal lingers to hear this and then appears from no where to slide his hand over Face's ass and tell him that he just has to try these vol-au-vents. It's almost amusing to watch the colour drain from the old crones face before they blush scarlet and excuse themselves.
It's the only entertainment Face is getting.
Hannibal, as Mr Jones, is required to schmooze with the rest of the top dogs; the bankers, the CEO's, the hotel owners. Face hasn't been able to spot Wiltshire giving anyone special attention in the company, but he's pretty sure that if the boredom doesn't kill him, he'll catch the fish eventually.
"Ah, Templeton, may I call you Templeton?" Speak of the devil? Wiltshire has a grin on his face that only means one thing -the cat got the canary. Face is always great at playing this game.
"Naturally," since it was the only name Bennet or Wiltshire were given to call him by. Hannibal insisted on keeping his own name, although Face would've much rather used one of his aliases for this particular point. "Lovely party."
"Oh, these are all Calvin's scene; personally I prefer more intimate gatherings." And from the way Wiltshire runs his gaze over Face's well tailored form, Face doesn't doubt just how intimate Wiltshire likes his gatherings. "Dear Mr Jones appears to be neglecting you, however. Such a shame." The look he's given isn't anything Face hasn't seen before; it's a look he's given people himself, it's a look he's been given so many times before. Never before has it made his skin crawl so badly.
Patrick Wiltshire is not an unattractive man; he has all his own hair, straight teeth, acceptable skin and his hygiene appears to be above average. It's just the aura of the man, the slimy, greasy, less than appealing vibe the man gives. Face offers a stiff smile, glancing to where he knows Hannibal is standing and knowing full well that Hannibal has heard every word of the conversation so far.
"Well, business talk." Face shrugs his shoulder, because although their cover calls for him to be a part of Hannibal's so called company, he's definitely not got his hands in any honey pots. "Hannibal knows how my attention wanders." The wording seems to mean something else entirely to Wiltshire, by the way his face lights up and that smirk turns into a grin and Face wants to smack the man with a newspaper.
"Oh, of course, my business partner is the exact same," Wiltshire gives a nod towards another man, standing by Bennet and talking quietly and Face just nods, noticing that Hannibal has picked up on the slip. "I get terribly bored talking shop all day. Perhaps, while our associates deal with the business, you'd like to join me for a drink." Face isn't exactly given the option of declining, his elbow taken in a careful grasp as Wiltshire sort of directs him over to the bar. Face allows it, making sure he can see Hannibal from where he sits, and tells himself to just play nice with Wiltshire long enough for Hannibal to get some kind of information from the unknown partner.
It's just as dull talking to Wiltshire as it is mingling with the crowd, and it becomes fairly obvious that Wiltshire has ulterior motives fairly early into the conversation. It starts with the brush of fingers when Wiltshire passes Face his drink, then there's the standing too close, the invasion of personal space. Light touches and the attempts at light jokes almost have Face raising his eyebrow, because all of this is seduction for idiots, and Face is almost shocked that anyone is still using this crap.
Hannibal is conversing with the unknown partner when the final nail in Wiltshire's coffin is hammered in. Face sitting with the man at the bar, pretending to pay attention to anything he said, when the hand is oh-so-casually placed on his knee, sliding up towards his thigh. Face is quick to stop the hand, making sure to keep his grip deceptively loose as he lifts Wiltshire's hand and removes it from his leg. "I think you might've had too much to drink, Mr Wiltshire." There's a subtle warning in the tone, but Wiltshire doesn't seem to pick up on it.
"Nonsense, I think maybe you need a few more," and Face almost snorts at that. He's had no more than four drinks all evening, and he's been nursing his current drink for more than half an hour. "Drink up, sweetheart, maybe we can take this somewhere more comfortable." Really, the guy is slime through and through. Blackmailing and strong arming honest hard working families out of their business and now so unabashedly hitting on Face, the conman would laugh if it wouldn't attract too much attention.
"I really don't think so." Wiltshire doesn't appear to take too kindly to being told no.
"Well, I do. And it would be a terrible shame to lose such prosperous business with Mr Jones over such a trivial matter." They whole snare is enough to make Face smirk, even as Wiltshire's hand returns to his knee, giving a harsh squeeze as if it would convince him. Face is far less gentle about swatting the hand from his knee this time. His drink is placed on the table, Face sliding from the stool to stand, and being met with Wiltshire blocking any path he might take away from the bar. "Now, boy," the way it's said, the contempt and disregard behind it, it tells Face all he needs to know about the entire situation, even as Wiltshire hampers him in, backing him up against the bar and closing off the space with his own body, pressing it into Face's. "We'll take this to my room, and you'll not be arguing another point. I really don't think you'll be missed."
"I wouldn't be so sure," if there's one thing Face can say for Hannibal, it's that the old fox has excellent timing. It's like an art form with Hannibal; never a second too late. "Is there a problem?" It's fairly clear that Hannibal has heard all he needs to hear, the glare that's directed at Wiltshire, the way Hannibal's hand coils around Face's wrist, the fact that there is barely an inch between Hannibal's body and his own.
Wiltshire gives a sneer, ignoring Face's smirk and the way Hannibal has moved Face away from Wiltshire to press into Hannibal's side. "Not at all," and Face wonders just what Wiltshire had expected. There's a soft 'humph' from the man before he leaves, and Hannibal doesn't move a single inch away from Face.
"Come on," the hand around Face's wrist tugs him to walk, Hannibal giving a brief nod to the silent partner of Wiltshire's as he nears the elevator with Face, "we've got what we needed. The boys are finished and out. And we have a performance to make." Face's brain finally kicks back into gear with that.
"Performance? What performance?" He doesn't really like the way that sounds, and Hannibal has the good grace to stroke his fingers over Face's wrist in apology. Not that Hannibal will ever voice that as what it is.
"Sorry kid, but it's time to be really convincing." It takes all of two seconds for Face to understand it, as the elevator doors give a soft 'ding' to announce their arrival, Face's stomach does a flip-flop, even as he's pulled into the empty cart and pushed into the wall with Hannibal's body following to pin him in place.
He sort of knew this was coming. He sort of hoped it would too.
Hannibal uses his body to sort of shield them from the cameras in the elevator, pushing Face into the back of the box and crowding him in. It doesn't make Face as twitchy as it once would, because it's Hannibal, and they're in an elevator, where would the threat come from? But as Hannibal bites along his neck, hands running over Face's flanks, stroking round to cup his ass, Hannibal fills him in on the supposedly unfortunate turn of conversation he had with Bennet and Jameson -the previously unknown partner. "And when Wiltshire had his hands on you," there's a growl in Hannibal's voice, and Face needs to remind himself that this isn't Hannibal; it's Jones, it's the role and it's the job.
It doesn't stop the shiver that runs through his spine when Hannibal nips his earlobe.
Face isn't sure about the nerves; he's not exactly the stage fright sort of guy. But there's this edge to it, where Hannibal's hands slide to his waist, tugging him away from the wall and Face just goes along with it. He's never just gone along with it, not until now and it's remarkably easy to just follow Hannibal's lead. It's that hold on his waist that directs him to the suite. He's just a little surprised when Hannibal turns him, pushing him into the door of their suite, covering his body once again and kissing him, it's harder than Hannibal's kissed him previously, there's teeth and harder bites and Face is breathless against the onslaught. Because it's perfect, the way Hannibal grips to his hips, pushing him into the door and pressing the hard planes of his own body into Face's, the mouth that practically possesses Face's mouth, dominating so completely.
The door is opened and Hannibal pushes Face through, turning them again and slamming Face back against the door as it closed. Hannibal pushes his hips into Face's, both of them groaning at the contact of hard cock against hard cock. It's with fumbling fingers that Face starts pushing Hannibal's clothes off, the jacket buttons slipping through the holes easily, Face tugging the tie from its knot. Hannibal returns the favour, using Face's jacket to pull him away from the door before it's pushed from his shoulders. Both jackets are tossed over the back of the chair by the desk, Hannibal's tie dropped to the floor, as they back their way over to the bed.
It's around there that Face realises the whole situation is utterly insane, he's about to have sex with his CO for a job, and it's on camera. Face is starting to think far too much when Hannibal pushes him down onto the bed, leaning over and pressing a softer kiss to Face's lips, "Stop thinking," it's a whisper of a comment against his lips, and Face gives a nod as he attempts to shut off his brain. He's not really sure how he's meant to do it, forcing his fingers to work with him, to not tremble as he works on Hannibal's shirt buttons while Hannibal quickly takes the links out the cuffs, dropping them to the bedside table. The urgency lights in Face's blood as Hannibal discards his shirt, Face's hands running over muscled abs, around to stroke along ribs and then sliding along Hannibal's back. There's a mewl stuck in Face's throat as Hannibal slides their hips together again, and Face knows that their pants will be creased to shit, but he can't summon the energy to care. Lips trail along Face's jaw, nipping lightly where his jaw meets ear and making him arch up under Hannibal, hands working on Face's waistcoat and shirt while Face gets to work on Hannibal's belt and pants.
"whose great idea was it for the three piece fucking suit?" Hannibal's words are growled out against Face's skin, the shirt and waistcoat open and Hannibal bites directly over Face's heart. There's a shudder and jerk through Face's body at the sharp sting of it, but his cock twitches appreciatively in his pants and Face groans and pushes into Hannibal's erection. The thinking has definitely stopped, and all Face wants is more; more skin, more mouth, more contact, more anything.
"Yours," Face gasps, lifting his hips as Hannibal tugged his pants down, "they were all your idea." Hannibal gets Face's pants around his ankles, boxers going at the same time, and Face kicks his shoes off to pull his legs out of the clothes. Hannibal is just as quick removing the rest of his own clothes, taking something from the drawer of the bedside table before moving back to cover Face. There's skin on skin, and Hannibal's hand slides into Face's hair to pull him into a kiss, Face's mouth opening with a groan as Hannibal's erection slides along side his own, hips jerking up for more pressure.
"Because they look so damn good on you," Hannibal's hands run down Face's neck, stroking the shirt and waistcoat still hanging on Face's torso. Face tries to sit up, to take them off, but Hannibal shakes his head. "Leave them." Teeth biting at Face's jaw, and Face isn't even sure what way is up anymore. There's just too much around him; heat and pleasure, hands stroking, teeth biting and that glorious friction of skin against skin. There's the barest second of wonder when Hannibal's hand slides along his thigh, hand pulling under Face's knee and directing him to spread his legs, and Face wonders how the hell they could've let it get this far. And then there's the press of a finger, cool and slick and pressing past the muscle and stroking inside and the only thing Face can wonder is when Hannibal picked up lube.
"Fuck," it's been too long, and the edge has been there since that morning, where all Face wanted was more. Hannibal's other hand strokes soothingly over Face's stomach, teeth worrying at Face's neck and then there's the press of a second finger. There's a burn, and a stretch and it's a little too much too soon, but Face doesn't say anything -supposedly he was fucked that morning. He cants his hips, pressing onto Hannibal's finger, biting down on the wince from the burn, twisting against Hannibal's body. And then there's shots of pleasure along his spine, Hannibal curling his fingers and pressing right there and Face's back arches off the bed. "Oh, fuck Hannibal." He's beyond glad that he doesn't have a fake name to remember right then, as he rocks back and the shots fire through him again and he moans, gripping to Hannibal's shoulder and side.
"Yeah, kid, that's it." Hannibal sounds just as out of breath as Face feels, leaning over Face, resting on an elbow while his hand brushes along Face's throat. "C'mon, tell me what you want." Face thinks Hannibal might be getting some kind of kick out of this, it's a cruel, cruel practice, even as Hannibal leans down to bite and nip along his throat and Face automatically tips his head to allow more access to his throat.
"More, Hannibal, please, I need more." As cruel as Hannibal could be with this, Face is utterly desperate, show or no show, Hannibal or not, he just needs it. Even if it's the first time and the only time, he's well aware that it's Hannibal that makes it all the more powerful, its Hannibal wringing every ounce of pleasure out of him and that just makes Face want it all the more.
"More?" The third finger slips in, stretching further and Face's head falls back to the mattress as he pushes against the intrusion, gasping for air and hissing out a breath. "Or more?" Hannibal presses in against Face's thigh, rubbing his cock against the crease of Face's leg and the shudder runs from Face's spine to his toes.
"Christ, Hannibal, fuck me. Please, just fuck me." He's pretty sure that he's wanted it for longer than just today, but Face really can't take the time out to have an in-depth crisis of that kind, not with Hannibal fucking him on his hand, and Face desperate for something else. It doesn't stop the whine from Face's throat when Hannibal withdraws his hand. Absently, while Hannibal tore the condom wrapper open, shifting between Face's thighs, which spread out instantly for him, Face's heart beat kicked up again. His hand slid around his own cock, stroking slowly as Hannibal pressed in between Face's legs.
"God, look at you." The pressure returned to Face's hole, Hannibal steadying himself with a grip on Face's hip while Face brought a leg up to offer more space, his hand still lazily stroking his cock. "Spread out like this," the head of Hannibal's cock slips inside and Face moans low and drawn out, biting on his bottom lip and squeezing his cock. "Fucking gorgeous." Hannibal pushes Face's hand from his own cock, Hannibal's fingers wrapping around and stroking at the exact same time he pushes all the way into Face. There's a moment when Face wants to cry out, biting it down to a groan only just, even as he presses back onto Hannibal. The burn is there, and sore, but fuck the pleasure from the stroking hand on his cock, the heavy weight of Hannibal over him. Face is still trying not to think too hard on the whole thing and failing miserably.
"Hannibal," he can barely get the word out, hands pulling at Hannibal's hips, arching up into the slow draw out and press in. He needs so much more than that slow pace Hannibal's keeping to, the almost soft stroking on his cock. "Fuck, please Hannibal, more." He's sure that he'll always be asking for more, regardless of what he gets. Hannibal answers his breathless pleas with a faster pace, sliding in with a snap of his hips and drawing out just quicker than before. Face grips one hand to Hannibal's elbow, the other twisting in the sheets for something to hold onto, bucking up into each thrust.
Hannibal's hand leaves Face's cock to grip his hip, pulling him to meet every thrust harder, the pace quickening again and Face seeing sparks as every thrust nudges his prostate with just not enough pressure. Face moves to take his cock in hand again, the move halted by Hannibal. "Oh no, no. Just like this, you're going to come, just like this." His hips angle better, and Face does cry out as Hannibal finds the right angle, hitting right on Face's prostate with every thrust, building more power with every inward thrust, Face's back arching as he gasps with every movement Hannibal makes. "Just like this," Hannibal bends over Face, not altering the angle at all, "so, fucking good," the kisses are pressed along his jaw, Hannibal's lips moving to just below Face's ear, biting at the lobe just right. "So good, Face."
It's that one word that sparks Face's release, his name; his from Hannibal's lips right then and Face is gone. Muscles clench, and his entire world tightens in on that one moment where there's nothing but bliss rolling through his body as he shudders and comes between their bodies, his hand on Hannibal's arm tightening it's hold and nails digging into skin. Hannibal just grunts against Face's ear, hips stuttering in pace, bucking into Face before he stiffens and jerks through orgasm, nuzzling into Face's neck. All Face can hear is the thump of his heartbeat, Hannibal's breathing against his ear, and then the soft sound of Hannibal kissing along his throat again. Hannibal releases his hip to stroke a hand over his cheek, tipping his head and kissing him and Face can't tell for sure but it feels like just Hannibal -no pretence, no show, no role. Just Hannibal kissing him and meaning it and Face just leans into it and sighs.
They take their own sweet time drawing apart, even as they start to stick to one another. Hannibal deals with the condom and gets a cloth, while Face finally pulls off his waistcoat and shirt, tossing them to the floor with the other clothes. Hannibal runs the cloth over Face's stomach, standing behind and pressing his chest into Face's back, lips pressing to the back of Face's neck. The cloth joins the clothes on the floor and Hannibal turns Face around, catching his lips in another kiss; firm and possessing, but lacking the hardness from earlier. Face feels himself being drawn to the bed, the comforter being thrown away and they slide under the sheets and Hannibal pulls Face in against him.
He doesn't have a clue what any of it means, but it can wait until morning for him to figure out.
Face isn't sure what he expects when he wakes up; he knows that he didn't expect to be alone in bed though, that's for sure. Hannibal is sitting at the desk; fully dressed in what Face decides is his 'Hannibal' clothes and not Mr Jones. Which means they'll be wrapping up the case today. Face isn't sure if he's relieved or not. He stretches out the knots in his back, wincing just a little when discomfort is made known and catching Hannibal's attention from whatever it is he's reading.
"Hey," Face can tell the difference between Hannibal's moods well enough to tell that something is wrong, although he's not really sure what.
"Hey." His hands run through his hair, trying to sort out the mess of bed head, but he's sure it's a wasted attempt. Hannibal just sits and watches Face try to sort his hair without sitting up, Face isn't all that sure about moving just yet, because he's perfectly comfortable and it's still rather early. What he'd really like is another hour's sleep, but he doesn't see it happening, not with Hannibal fully dressed and apparently ready to go. "What's on the agenda?"
"You've got another hour or so," which means shower for a good long time if he can manage it. "Then," Hannibal gets up from his seat, moving over to the bed, and leaning over, "you'll be drawing Wiltshire over to the construction site." Face would really rather have no dealing with Wiltshire at all, but this is part of the job and hopefully it'll be easy to just lure him there. "I'll have Jameson there without problem, B.A and Murdock will be waiting and it'll be an easy wrap up." Hannibal's always sure of the wrap up, but Face thinks that this time it's with good reason. They know why Jameson and Wiltshire want the contract for the construction now, it'll be easy to draw out a confession of the underhanded, dirty dealings they're pulling. It'll be easy to wrap it up this time.
"Great, I can shower for an hour first." Since the next time they had this kind of set up could be ages away. Face wants to make good use of it while it's there. He would be getting up, he would be heading towards the shower, but Hannibal is just sitting there, leaning just slightly over Face and one hand stroking slightly through Face's hair before dropping to the pillow.
"I'll be heading out before you finish," because they both know that Face will take as long as possible. Face just nods, he's not really sure what Hannibal means, although he knows what it all means -the job is pretty much over, the roles are pretty much over and they can slot into their own skin again. There's an absent pang that Face feels, he's not about to look into it right then though, if he has to he'll do it later, but right then he'd like nothing more than to slip into the shower and ignore everything. "I'll see you at the site." It's strange that Hannibal leans in for a final kiss -at least Face thinks it's a final kiss. The way that Hannibal keeps it light, almost barely there as his fingers thread into Face's hair and stroke along his skull. He's sure that Hannibal is just messing his hair up further but it hardly matters at that point, as Face leans into the kiss, feeling the goodbye in it even though there isn't a need for it.
Hannibal draws back slowly, and Face feels the tension weigh him down, he's never really been good with tension, "I have morning breath." It feels like the easiest way to break it, with Hannibal, and there's a small smile on the Colonel's face as he nods just a little.
"Yeah, you do." Hannibal strokes his fingers through Face's hair one more time, leaning up and pressing a kiss to Face's forehead before drawing away completely and moving across the room. Face feels suddenly very self conscious about being completely naked and he can't figure out why. It's not like it's the first time he's been naked around Hannibal; last night wasn't even the first time. But as he sits up, slides his feet to the ground and sits on the edge of the bed, he's acutely aware of his own nakedness and Hannibal's completely dressed state. "I left you the grey suit, everything else has been packed out." Hannibal slips into his jacket, turning to look over and Face and Face twists to watch Hannibal. "Mind your time."
There's a nod, and Hannibal heads out the door. Face just sits for a minute before shaking his head and moving into the shower, he stops half way there, turning around and taking the suit, in its plastic sheet protection and then going into the bathroom. He's through with giving people the free show.
The only problem with the long shower is the length of time it gives Face to think. There are a few aches that he definitely needs to work out of his body, the tightness in cramped muscles that need the hot spray to work out the tension, and Face has always enjoyed long showers. He'd like this one far more if it could clear his head, but he's stuck thinking on far too many things. Number one being Hannibal, and just what this whole thing is going to do to them. He'd like to think it'll change nothing, that he and Hannibal can slip back into just what they had before. He'd also like to think that they'll one day be cleared and reinstated with clean records but the likelihood of that is slim to none. Realistically, he knows that he and Hannibal will never be able to slip back; Hannibal might, there's the definite chance if this morning was anything to go by, that Hannibal has already started to slip back.
Face isn't sure he'll manage it.
There's too much he's had to admit, at least to himself, too much he's been forced to acknowledge. Like how simple it is to just give in to Hannibal, like how fucking easy it is to slot himself right in there, to play the part of something other than friend and comrade and subordinate. Like how much he liked it. It's impossible to scrub that feeling away; it's too difficult to lock it all away again, to pretend that it's not there when it so blatantly is.
Even taking the time to wash out his hair, thinking back to the fact that Hannibal used his nickname, not his name, not the alias for the con, but his name for all intents and purposes. It's enough to tell him that Hannibal didn't remove himself from it all, didn't use the excuse of the job, even if he was just a little distant in the morning. It could be the subordinate thing; even though they were officially stripped of rank and dishonourably discharged, meaning he wasn't technically Hannibal's second anymore. But he knows Hannibal, knows just how Hannibal thinks sometimes. And with the Colonel, they'll always be his unit, his team, his boys. It might be the biggest reason for Hannibal pulling back, it might be the reason Face needs to push it all away.
He just doesn't know if he wants that reason.
He still doesn't have time for the internal freak out that he thinks he deserves. They have a job to finish and he has a car to rent -because he is not spending the morning in a cab with a sore ass.
Getting Wiltshire to the construction site is amazingly easy. Face spends two minutes at the front desk of the hotel, getting a rental car for the morning. He knows exactly why Hannibal left him the grey suit; if it wasn't getting the job done he'd be offended. Wiltshire was trying to be inconspicuous, watching from behind a newspaper while the clerk gets Face the paper work for his car, and then as Face draws out from the hotel, Wiltshire follows behind and Face ends up having to slow down just to keep the guy on his tail.
Murdock and B.A are waiting at the site, and Face can only assume that Hannibal has some kind of plan already in place. There's a sign of him to follow, in Murdock's very own brand of pictogram, leading him to a crude form of a parking space underneath the structure. He can hear Wiltshire following, and Face takes the stairs to the main deck of the construction site three at a time, catching a glimpse of Murdock at the far end of the site as he moves across the floor.
"What are you doing here?" The sound echoes around the place, it's a little eerie and Face can distantly make out B.A and Murdock's hissed whisperings.
"I could ask you the exact same thing." Face turns, watching Wiltshire expectantly. They still don't have a lot on intel on this guy -other than he's a scumbag that Face thinks deserves everything he gets. But Face knows that Murdock and B.A are nearby, so he's not worried about that. He's worried about not knowing what Hannibal's plan is.
"Well, in a matter of days, I'm going to own this site," Wiltshire has his cocky smirk in place, looking around the site and attempting to look as sure of himself as he'd like. But Face sees the cracks, sees the uncertainty. Face sees the way that Wiltshire is looking for someone as he tries his hardest to be intimidating.
"Oh, well, I own it right now." Face slides his hands into the pockets on his pants, shoulders loose, posture relaxed. He knows there's nothing more frustrating for people like Wiltshire than mouthy little assholes who don't act intimidated when they should. "So we might have a little problem, because I don't think I'm selling."
"No you don't," there's a shake of a laugh in Wiltshire's voice, as he tries to keep his composure. "Some low grade little company own it, Mansun or Mandles or,"
"Mandelson Construction, yeah. I know." Face grins, watching as the cracks deepen and Wiltshire starts to glance around, looking for something that he's probably not going to find. "Something wrong?" There's this sort of panicked look about Wiltshire, as if he expects the cops to jump from the rafters, and Face is a little wary.
Just as Wiltshire is about to open his mouth, another car pulls up, Hannibal stepping out the moment the car stops. Only he's not stepping, he's nearly running. "Move kid!" Face is stunned for long enough to see two of Jameson and Wiltshire's other associates follow from the car with semi-automatic weapons. Face doesn't waste any more time to get behind something and out of the line of fire. Jameson is shouting something at Hannibal, and Face is pretty sure that Hannibal is responding, but Face is too caught up in the near constant clinking of bullets against the metal frame he's trying to duck behind.
He's pretty sure that it's B.A and Murdock that make the point when the car that Jameson and Hannibal rode up in blows up. Murdock stepping out from his hiding spot with a gun in hand and pointing towards the group. "Alrighty, folks. Hands up and feet down, ain't no funny stuff." The guns are dropped, and Hannibal steps out from his spot and Face takes the moment to lean against the metal beam that is now dotted with ricochet marks.
It takes another five minutes for Nick and Marsha to arrive, and Murdock and Face have gotten the weapons off the two gun men and cuffed the four of them around a beam to wait for the couple to call the cops. Hannibal hands over a sheet of paper and a tape recorder, telling the pair that everything they need is there and it should be the end of their troubles. "But we'll check in on you in a few weeks, just to be sure." It's the sound of the sirens that get them moving and Face heads back towards the lower level where the rental is parked. "Face?"
"Rental, I'll catch up." Hannibal looks like he's about to argue, or send Murdock with him before he just nods and follows B.A to the surveillance van he and Murdock acquired for the job.
They take on another job in less than a week, and Hannibal doesn't mention a thing about the Mandelson Construction case, so Face doesn't either. It's easy to get back into his old role, easy to slip into his own skin. But it still feels like a con and he's a little off his game and it's confusing. He can't see any difference with Hannibal, so it's just him, out of sync with the team for the first time, possibly ever. He's done his part for this job, gotten the fire-engine, got the insurance policies, got the building rental. But it's all on auto pilot, he's just coasting, and if anyone noticed there was no flair to the whole thing, no one said anything.
It was a struggle just to forget. There are moments when Hannibal looks at him and the world zones in on that one look at Face is thrown back to the job a week ago. He's trying to find his feet all over again, and the first time was bad enough; unsure how to act around Hannibal, not sure what to say, it's all throwing him for a loop and he'd rather it was all just sorted out.
He's pretty sure that Murdock knows that something is wrong, but Face doubts that Murdock could really figure it out. Which is a good thing. "Something on your mind?" Face hates that Hannibal can still sneak up on him after all this time.
"Yeah, no. I'm good." He's sitting on the bed, staring at the blank screen of the television, it's clear that he's far from good, but Hannibal just nods at him. He just stands there, leaning against the wall, watching Face and it's wholly unnerving and Face fights the urge to fidget under the gaze. "What's up?" It gets to the point where the silence is just too heavy and Face can't put up with it.
"You should go out," they're in the middle of a job, and Hannibal usually hates when Face goes 'out' in the middle of a job, because it's just another way to say that Face has found a girl to hook up with. "You're too tense." It's pretty much all the information Face needs right there.
"Yeah, you know, you're right." He pushes himself from the bed, grabbing his jacket and the key for the room and forcing a wide grin on his face. "Thanks boss," he slaps an open hand to Hannibal's chest, as he passes, sliding it away like it's nothing and opening the door. "Don't wait up." The slam of the hotel room door has never felt so final before.
Disclaimer: The A-Team does not belong to me, they belong to themselves and their writers. I did not make money from this. For shame.