johnnypenn (johnnypenn) wrote,
johnnypenn
johnnypenn

The Dogpatch - Chapter 13


Ya'll are gonna love me for this one. :)

You can find the song Face sings here, http://ingeb.org/songs/shesonly.html 
and the bold in this chapter is VERY IMPORTANT. So read that bit carefully. If it's not very clear then leave a comment and I'll explain it, but I tried to be very clear on what was going on before hand.

- --

The Dogpatch

 

Fandom – The A-Team

 

Rating – R/NC17

 

Pairing – H/F and BA/M

 

Disclaimer – I do not own the characters of The A-Team. I am not making any money off this bit of fiction. However, I am open to working on a book for the A-Team if the creators like what I have here…erm…slash is optional.

 

Summary – AU – Templeton Peck is a secret world famous spy who’s been accidentally (or not so much) captured by VC and exchanged into Colonel Hannibal’s hands. Now, he has to keep the man at arms length, otherwise risk something he’d much rather not.

 

A/N – Ahahaha, I am changing up the pairings. Instead of H-Bamf, I’m going for Hannibal/Face and BA/Murdock on the side. I hope no one minds but it works for this story.

 

 

Chapter 13 – A New Understanding

 

 

            I’m never getting out of here without setting off the alarm…Face sighed. He lent against the cold, stone wall to his right as he looked out at the German country side outside his window. There was a small balcony to sit on but the window was wired to an alarm. If it opened the alarm would go off and that was not good. He needed to get away clean.

 

            His room, though somewhat small was comfortable. The mattress was the best he’d ever slept in – and that was nothing to sneeze at. He’d spent plenty of nights on the most horrible mattresses in the world. It was nice, for once, to have a bed that he didn’t want to leave. The bathroom had no door, and that was Hannibal’s paranoia in play there. The fireplace was defunct as an escape rout – it had no access to the roof.

 

            Basically, he was stuck in this room till Hannibal thought otherwise. His skin was beginning to crawl from being cooped up for so long. Even sick he had that feeling to get up and go. It was a gilded cage. It was nice and comfortable; there were some books for him to read.

 

            Still, he was reminded of an old song one of the nuns used to sing. In a small, quiet voice – for he didn’t want the tune to carry – he started to sing just to fill the silence.

 

            “The ball room was filled with fashions throng,

            It shone with a thousand lights;

            And there was a Woman, who passed along,

            The fairest of all the sights.

            A girl to her lover then softly sighed;

            “There’s riches at her command,”

            “But she married for wealth, and not for love,” he cried,

            “Though she lives in a mansion grand!”

 

            From down the hallway Face could hear a door slam shut. These doors were old and heavy, it took a fair amount of force to open and shut. It wasn’t unusual for one to use extra force and announce to the household where one was located. He waited till he heard the steps pass his door and down the hallway before beginning again.

 

            “I stood in a church yard just at eve,

            When sunset adorned the west,

            And looked at the people who’d come to grieve,

            For loved one now laid at rest,

            A tall marble monument marked the grave,

            Of one who’d been fashions queen;

            And I thought; “she is happier here at rest.

            Then have people say when seen,”

 

            Face sighed and lent his head against the stone. He stood with a woolen blanket around his shoulders. His feet were bare and it was cold where carpet didn’t deflect skin against granite.

 

            “She’s only a bird in a gilded cage,

            A beautiful sight to see,

            You may think she is happy and free from care,

            She’s not though she seems to be,

            ‘Tis sad when you think of her wasted life,

            For youth cannot mate with age,

            And her beauty was sold,

            For an old mans gold,

            She’s a bird in a gilded cage…”

 

            He hadn’t heard the door opening behind him. “You have a lovely voice,”

 

            Face startled and turned to his visitor. Hannibal stood in the doorway. He wore trousers with a white, button down shirt that was un-tucked. He wasn’t smoking a cigar, yet. He’d pull one out eventually.

 

            “Thank you,” Face replied, he felt his cheeks flush.

 

            “Are you all right?” Hannibal asked, he stepped forward and closed the door behind him. Face sighed and sagged against the wall.

 

            “I…I’m sick of this room,” he shook his head.

 

            Hannibal smiled a bit as he came forward. He pulled Face to him and wrapped his large, strong arms around the smaller; and younger man. Hannibal was warm. Heat wavered off him in a slab and Face snuggled in. He hadn’t realized how very cold he’d been. He sighed again and closed his eyes. He’d come to expect touch from one of the men. Murdock was very touchy-feely, BA was more of a direction-touch sort of person but Hannibal was different. Hannibal had a strong hand Face had learned not to push, but he was always ready to wrap Face up in his arms and hold him for ages. Sometimes Face didn’t want to be held but Hannibal wouldn’t let him go. It was far easier just to accept.

 

            “I know,” Hannibal said into his hair.

 

            “If I were restrained somehow, couldn’t I sit on the terrace?” Face asked, he didn’t look up at Hannibal, afraid he’d be rejected. Instead he pushed his nose a bit into the heat of Hannibal’s neck. “I won’t complain and…” he gulped. He was so desperate just to be out of this room he was afraid how far he’d go with his captor.

 

            “I think I may have a ball and chain around…” Hannibal said, and then chuckled, it’d been a joke.

 

            Face held back another sigh. He couldn’t chance pissing Hannibal off. The best course of action was to accept and move on. He nodded his head but didn’t look up. Hannibal moved his arms. His hands went onto Face’s shoulders and pushed him away a bit.

 

            Face now looked up at Hannibal with a questioning blink.

 

            “I’ll let you go outside,” Hannibal said after a long silence. “I know it must be hard for you to be shut up in this room all the time. It wasn’t my intention,” Hannibal then started to steer Face towards the bed, “but, after you are healthy, I don’t want you to catch something,”

 

            Face climbed into bed and Hannibal pulled the covers up and started tucking him in; “Get some sleep and I’ll bring dinner up in an hour,”

 

            “Yes sir,” Face snuggled into bed. He might as well, there was nothing else much to do.

 

0-0-0

 

            West Berlin, Germany,

 

            Harry looked in the mirror. He and Angel were staying in a hovel. They’d get paid again at the end of the week but they still had to be careful with what they spent on their room and board. The bathroom he stood in was no bigger than a closet. The mirror was broken in places and pieces threatened to fall at any second.

 

            Slowly, Henry undid the write strips that’d swathed his face up until this moment. He hadn’t seen how bad the injury to his face and eye had been. He did know one thing though…he could no longer see out of his right eye. It was sobering, and then he felt that rush of fire through his veins. He was going to kill ‘Tuan Tu. If it was the last thing he’d do – he was going to torture and kill that man.

 

            The wrapped fell about his shoulders and neck and there the brand stood in livid red. The picture was unidentifiable. The folds of skin healed in such a random way couldn’t even begin to resemble ‘Tuan Tu’s hold on his life at this very moment. He’d have to live with people staring at him, recognizing him. Even laughing and pointing at him. He should know – he’d done it as a child and his mother hadn’t even told him to stop being rude to the poor man.

 

            Karma was a bitch.

 

           

0-0-0

 

            From the first day I saw you, I knew I had to keep you…the words echoed in his head. There he was, naked and wet with Hannibal so close. He could smell the man’s ever present cologne of cigar smoke. It was heady and he could feel Hannibal’s hard cock pressing to his front.

 

            Face awoke, that night felt as if it’d been ages ago. It was one of his early nights in Dogpatch. He’d just been punished and then the guys had given him a bath. BA announced how much he wanted to fuck Face – and Face had no doubts that BA could do it if he wanted. However, he and Murdock were waiting for their turn. Hannibal was to have him first.

 

            And Hannibal had never pushed the sex thing, but now…now was different. Face was dreaming of the man. It sucked. He’d woken up twice to a hard on he had to take care of with an impromptu cold shower or he’d brought himself to completion. Never on his bed though. Not only did he want to keep the sheets clean but he didn’t want Hannibal to know he was jerking off.

 

            And…he wasn’t ready to admit that he wanted Hannibal inside him. How that had come about and why he even accepted it of himself, he didn’t know. But the thought had him in day dreams of various scenarios of him and Hannibal. He was always on the bottom though, mostly because Hannibal was total Alpha-male and had all ready exercised his power over Face.

 

            He imagined them in various fantasies that hinged on bondage as well. He didn’t think it was very kosher. And if he were a very devout Catholic he’d be running the other way so fast he’d leave a dust cloud in his wake. However, and surprisingly, he was fine with it. It came over him so suddenly – in the shower – and it had stayed. Hannibal was treating him decently, he wasn’t going to rape him so that showed the man was dedicated enough to hold up good principles in life.

 

            All in all, he was technically dead to the army. So why not? Where else had he to go anyway? He should embrace it.

 

            Face sat up in bed and pushed the covers away. He turned to put the pillows in place before laying back on them. He was naked, it was the middle of the night and damn it all, he was hard. He wrapped a hand around himself and closed his eyes.

 

            In his minds eye he and Hannibal were in the shower, alone. Hannibal pushed him up against the shower wall and latched onto his neck, Face let his head gently fall against the wall. Slowly he squeezed his erection and thumbed the head. Hannibal softly rubbed their cocks together. Face moaned – long and softly – he turned into Hannibal and caught his lover’s lips with his. Their tongues battled for dominance and Face gave a token struggle before giving up to Hannibal. He gasped as his ejaculation became harder to bear. Hannibal moaned as he swept his tongue around Face’s mouth, feeling every crevice of tooth and his own essence. Face gave the most awesome blow jobs. He gently pumped his cock. He was so close. He was going to let it splatter all over so that when Hannibal came to him in the morning, he’d see and know. Then, there was something at his entrance. Hannibal hadn’t used any lube. Face gasped and tried to relax as much as possible. It hurt, but in a good way.

 

            He moaned. A few more minutes…and…

 

            Hannibal started thrusting in and out shallowly; each and every time he hit Face’ prostate; Face shuddered and moaned and then he begged. His words were a babbling brook of consonants that made absolutely no sense to the human mind. He gasped, and then..

 

            He came all over the bed.

 

            Face sighed and opened his eyes. The smell of his seamen filled the air. He cringed. What had possessed him to do that? Now the sheets were dirty and the room smelled as if he’d just had sex. He rolled out of bed and went to the bathroom. He grabbed a wash cloth and gave himself a sponge bath. Then he hit the lights in his room. He took a wet cloth to the sheets to try and clean up most of the seamen. He’d have to ask for new sheets in the morning.

 

            Once he was done he laid down the biggest towels he could find in the never ending cupboard of towels, and then crawled back into bed. He readjusted his pillows. Seconds later, heedless of the wet spots on his bed, that smelled of lavender soap thank goodness, he was fast asleep.

 

0-0-0

 

            In the room across the hall, Hannibal gasped and spurted all over his own sheets. He’d been imagining Face giving him he best blow job he could imagine. He hoped that soon he’d be able to fuck that boy because he was just delicious in all the right ways and he’d been waiting for what felt like ages.

 

            However, it was only the beginning of the second week since they’d left Vietnam. Yes, he decided, it was high time to make the boy understand where he belonged.


Tags: ba, dogpatch, faceman, fan fiction, germany, hannibal, murdock, the a-team, vietnam
Subscribe

  • Good Writer's Only, please!

    What the fuck. No, seriously. I was at the BBC Sherlock meme and some Anon-idiot is posting prompts like crazy. Only they add a rather horrible…

  • Once more, and more...

    I do believe, that as the English Language changes with all the influx of odd things - that I shall never get over the palpitations my heart does…

  • What to do now?????

    I used five question marks in my title because I feel that number sufficiently illustrates my utter lack of muse on TMCOSH <-- "The Many Cumming's…

  • Post a new comment

    Error

    Anonymous comments are disabled in this journal

    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded 

  • 1 comment