katydidmischief: (boylove2)
[personal profile] katydidmischief posting in [community profile] cjs_own
disclaimer. Not mine and none of the events described here in have any basis in reality.
title. Find a Way
rating. R for Content.
pairing. Hannibal/Face, past & future.
summary. Face knows it shouldn't be this easy.
warnings. AU - Hooker!fic (Face).
notes. Written for this prompt at [livejournal.com profile] a_team_kink and is a sequel of sorts to my earlier fic, Insufficiently Fed.

"We will either find a way
or make one.

- Hannibal -

He hasn't done this in over a decade – sell his body to get what he needs – but in some ways, it's like riding a bicycle. (And in this case, he muses, he's the bicycle.) He hasn't forgotten how to get to that place in his head where he can block out the pain, block out the insults and the self-recriminations, nor has it been particularly hard to slip back into that mind set: the one where he's just a body to be used, nothing more.

Face knows it shouldn't be this easy. He should be more upset over the reality that he's back to square-fucking-one, scratching out a life for himself in sexual acts; he should be worried, too, because when Hannibal finds out... Face chooses not to think about that whenever the thought pops into his mind – Hannibal is hundreds of miles away, locked up in cell with no ability to get any information about or to his Lieutenant.

The block warden, Bob, is a nice guy and doesn't fall for Face's attempts. So Face stops trying to ply him with blowjobs, instead finding out that the man's son is in Afghanistan and manages to secure a safe return for the young soldier; it buys him Bob's loyalty when he hears that Josh is on his way home.

Kelly, the skinny brunette Captain that makes him think of Charissa in all the wrong ways, sleeps with him for nothing more than enjoyment. Face is all for that because, after all, he's in prison, but he's not dead.

It's the Warden and the night guards that take Face up on his offers, making deals with him in whispered secrets and mutters against his skin.

He secures a transfer for Murdock, getting him away from that dirty mexican mental ward and it's (Face thinks) horrifying treatments, away from the meds that Murdock had always complained made him feel dull and dizzy and disconnected. It takes a week of going down on his knees for the Warden and two nights of being fucked until he was sore, but he's told the morning of his second month in Pensacola that Murdock's on his way to Germany; Face nearly rejoices.

BA... BA, he tries to keep well-fed and well-read. The man, for all his anger and his bitterness, likes to read – Tolstoy, Shakespeare, Playboy. He'll read anything and Face knows that if there's one thing that'll help ground his friend for the moment, it's books. So he starts collecting anything he thinks BA might like from around the prison, blowing one guard for a copy of Penthouse and another he lets come on his face for a copy of the Dalai Lama's book. Slowly but surely he gets together a small library; lets Joe, the guard from C-block, fuck him against the bars of an unoccupied cell, in exchange for sending them north. He hears that BA will be transferred to another prison in a few months and squirrels that knowledge away.

Hannibal's the one he owes the most to – they may be in prison, but Hannibal got him off the streets, gave him somewhere to call home even if it was a nomadic life, gave him a purpose – and he needs to get him something that will help the old man. He can't get Hannibal moved, doesn't want to, since Hannibal's already in one of the better prisons, and he doubts the Boss would want books, movies, or candy (Murdock, he's been told, has been fashioning accessories from the candy Face has gotten for him).

It takes some doing, but he finds out through the grapevine that Pike's been spotted in Germany. Face is sure that Hannibal can do something if Face can just get that information to him, so he makes a deal with the Warden that he'll regret later, but for now and for Hannibal, it's worth the pain.

He hates being fucked over tables, hates being fucked with dildos more because goddamnit, no one does it right; he hates being used like someone's toy. He forces himself to push it away, push it down into his mind and go to that place. It's worth it, he chants every time, It's worth it.


There was no time for questions at first. Hannibal wa working too hard to clear their names to think about what he'd gleaned from his men or how Face had known about Pike before Hannibal had even told him. Then Face was working too hard to crucify Lynch, show Pike for who he really was.

Now, though, there's all the time in the world: they're wanted, but they're free.

They've picked a nice wooded area up north to stop for the night, deciding to stay in the truck BA's driven the entire way, but no one's even tempted to sleep. Even Face, usually capable of at least dozing no matter the conditions, can close an eye – he knows what Hannibal's been thinking about since they were taken into custody for the second time.

He knows Hannibal had seen the scars left on his hips, the faint bruises left behind by the Warden not so long ago, when the EMTs had checked Face over in the shipyard.

"Look, Boss," he starts, wanting to get this over with as quickly as he can.

Hannibal narrows his eyes, a warning Face is well-acquainted with, and Face quickly shuts his mouth. "I thought you had more faith in me, Face."

That throws Face for a loop and he knows the confusion shows. He's always trusted Hannibal, always had faith in the old man.

"I told you once that you'd never have to do that again, Face," Hannibal goes on, "I told you never to let someone use you like that again and you did. Did you think I wasn't going to come through?"

"What? No, Boss, I knew you'd get us out."

"Then why, Face?" he asks, brow furrowed. "Face..."

"It's what I am, all right? I'm a whore – been one since I was sixteen years old – and for once, I could actually do something to benefit someone instead of just laying there and taking it. I got Murdock away from that fucking overdosing moron, kind backfired with BA but at least he didn't spend his entire incarceration racking up assault charges, and I got you Pike." He sighs, rubbing his eyes, and when he looks at the three of them again, he says, "I'm a whore, guys. Can put me in fatigues and send me into the field... doesn't change that."

There's a few moments of silence, then Hannibal reaches out and pulls Face in by the collar of his shirt. He's holding in his temper; he has always known that Face thinks of himself in lesser terms, compares himself to Murdock and BA and somehow comes out at the bottom. It enrages Hannibal for so many reasons, but he knows it's not going to mean jackshit to Face to try to argue the point.

So Hannibal does the only thing he can: he lets go of Face and tells him, "Then if you're a whore, you're our whore," and watches as Murdock and BA nod. He knows they'll agree, knows that they'll be watching Face for the next few months in case he dares to let someone use him like that again, and he approves; Face, evidently, had thought about helping everyone but himself, and they'll make sure he puts himself a little higher on the priorities list.

Face is back to himself in the next instant. He laughs, sprawling against the seat he's commandeered in the van, and shakes his head, saying, "Well, we are in a van in the middle of the woods and it wouldn't be the first time..."

"Man, Face, you're almost as whacked as Murdock," BA remarks and settles into his bedding on the floor below Face. He's almost tempted to move, put himself between Face's makeshift bed and the sliding door, but he's too tired and BA knows that if Face were to try something, Hannibal would be on the younger man in thirty seconds flat.

BA snorts – if only Face knew – and falls sleep to the noise of Murdock chattering on.


Hannibal's always up first, always the one to wake the others, so it doesn't surprise Face when he gets up the next morning and Hannibal isn't in the van.

He manages to get out of the van without waking BA or Murdock, following the scent of cigar smoke a few yards away. There, standing beside a gently flowing creek, Hannibal stands, smoke curling around his head. Hannibal looks pensive and a little exhausted, like he's spent most of the night thinking rather than sleeping; Face wouldn't be surprised if the old man has – they need a plan and Face did promise Murdock he'd leave the planning to Hannibal.

"Hey, Boss," Face greets.

Hannibal doesn't turn around. "Kid."

Face is tempted to ask if he's done something wrong but he's not that needy twenty-something anymore, the guy who was searching for approval from anyone who crossed his path. He's Templeton Peck, a strong, well-trained Ranger under Hannibal Smith's command, not Ryan with no last name, waiting for the next guy to come along and pay him to spread his legs.

"I mean it, Face," Hannibal says when Face stays quiet for too long. "You want to fuck someone, it's because you choose to."


"You're worth more than you think." Hannibal snubs out the cigar and pockets it. "I put my career on the line that night, because I saw something in you, Face, and I came back because once I left, I knew what it was I saw. Face, I got you off that street because you should never have been there and I find out you let someone abuse you like that again..."

Face holds up both hands. "Hannibal, you don't have to... I mean, Boss, come on, who doesn't know about me, huh? Who doesn't know what I used to do and come looking for a turn? Why not get something out of the deal when I have the chance to?"

Hannibal's hand clenched, the other tight around the strap of his holster. "Because you're important. Face, you're important."

It shouldn't be so surprising, given their history, but Face is shocked when Hannibal leans in and kisses him, and for a few moments, he isn't sure what he should be doing. Then his brain re-engages and Face is kissing back, his eyes closed as his hands come up to clench at Hannibal's arm, his side.

When they break apart, Face is panting and Hannibal looks slightly guilty. After all, he'd long ago promised himself that he'd never do this, never take advantage of Face, not again.

The guilt recedes a few moments later when Face laughs and lets his head fall forward onto Hannibal's neck, muttering, "What if I'm your whore, Hannibal?"

"That works, kid."
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