Fic: Between Sheets, 1/1. Hannibal/Face.

[katydidmischief]

disclaimer. Not mine and none of the events described here in have any basis in reality.
title. Between Sheets
rating. NC-17
pairing. Hannibal/Face, first-time.
summary. It's the littlest things that give him away.
warnings. Virgin!Face.
notes. Written for this prompt at a_team_kink.

Between Sheets
It's the littlest things that give him away, the pauses and barely-there flinches that catch Hannibal's eye when Face is unaware he's being watched, and it takes Hannibal a while to figure out why it's been the focus of his fascination for so very long. After all, Face is a talented man, able to pull of the best cons the world over, and he's perfected his acts: who's the say those momentary pauses aren't just Face thinking?

Who's the say those flinches aren't Face drawing the mark in? The jumps, his nerves preparing for the fight?

But it's not any of that, Hannibal knows now. It's not Face being the best conman Hannibal's seen the world over. What it is, is Face struggling to maintain a part he doesn't really know; sex isn't in the younger man's repertoire, whether with women or with men and Hannibal figures this is why Sosa left Face in the end, not because of commitment issues. (He thinks, maybe, she wasn't ready to be Face's first, not after the reputation that Face has carefully, painstakingly created. Hannibal reminds himself to ask about that later, about why Face felt he needed that persona when he already had the respect of an entire camp.)

"Hannibal," Face whispers, blue eyes locked on Hannibal.

Face is tan right down to his waist, a perk of spending the last few days under strict orders to not wear anything confining per doctor's orders; Hannibal is not at all happy with the Colonel who'd borrowed Face for a rescue mission which had ultimately ended with Hannibal and his boys rescuing Face. Morrison has since agreed to not allow Face on any other team (to avoid Hannibal's wrath).

"Gonna be my first, boss?" Face smiles at Hannibal, who's kneeling above Face, and adds, "Figured it'd be you."

Hannibal chuckles a bit, amused at Face's declaration, and leans down, propping himself on his elbows as he kisses Face. Normally he's a lot rougher; Hannibal's fucked plenty of men, hard and fast in the showers, in humvees, behind the caravans when the camp is asleep. He's never really understood why, but he thinks now, maybe, it was to sate the urge in his gut that's pushed him toward Face.

Now, though, he tempers the need to push Face down, hold his hands above his head, and take – Face isn't some quick, dirty fuck, and Hannibal certainly isn't about to let Face think that's what he deserves. Seriously, the kid's got plenty of issues, the last thing he needs is to have a problem with sex. So Hannibal kisses him in long moments, then pulls away enough to press softer kisses to Face's forehead, his temples, the rise of his cheekbones.

When he stops, Hannibal tells Face, "And you'll be my last," with one hand splayed on the side of Face's head, thumb stroking a cheek.

"Boss?"

But Hannibal doesn't want to have to explain, not right now. He doesn't have the capacity to find the right words to tell Face what he needs to, so instead, he kisses Face again, sliding his knees back until Hannibal is flush against Face from chest to groin.

The moan Face lets out borders on the obscene, making Hannibal wish they were back in the hotel they'd been treated to when Face had been declared stable and they were waiting for transport back to base. At least then, Hannibal could have drawn the noises from Face, let him be loud, but here, in the camp, they face being heard and courtmartialed; Hannibal promises himself that at some point in the near future he'd get them a few days off, take Face to some nice place in France and pull the moans from him.

"Boss," Face whispers, hands scrabbling at Hannibal's back as his hips jerk up, into Hannibal's and he bites his lip. "How do we... I mean, is this... is this enough?"

Hannibal tries not to grin, committing this moment to his memory: He, Hannibal Smith, had reduced Face to stuttering.

"More than enough, kid, if this is what you want." Hannibal clamps down on his control, reminding himself that Face is in the driver's seat – kid's directing this particular show and they'll go at whatever speed he wants. Still, he can't help himself from saying, "Got lube, condoms. Tell me what you want, Face, and that's what we do."

Face lets out a breath and one corner of his lips goes up, then they're rolling on the bed, shifting until Hannibal is on his back and Face is seated on him, Hannibal's cock nestled against Face's ass. He's got a full smile on his face now, and Hannibal grins in response; he settles his hands against Face's hips, and grunts when he thrusts up – he's got good leverage in this position, better for his knees, and Face has some control.

Hannibal slides one hand forward then, wrapping calloused fingers around Face's cock. He gives it a slow, firm pull, flicking one nail over the head and twists the fist he's made at the tip; Face tangles his hand with Hannibal's after a minute of this and Hannibal is quick to realize that Face gets more pleasure from having a wet finger rub over the spot under the head, the edge of pain caused by a nail being pressed into the slit.

"God, Hannibal."

"You feel good?"

Face nods.

"Good." Hannibal wants that, wants to know that Face feels the endorphin rush that comes from this kind of attention; he wants Face to get used to it, because he has no intention of letting Face get away from him after this.

He reaches for the lube with his other hand, pulling it from the drawer of the bedside table, grabs a strip of condoms after, and assures Face, "Not for tonight," with a laugh. "Just not easy to tear one from them all without both hands."

The first moment of panic dealt with, Hannibal turns his attention back to Face. It's not easy to keep himself in that position – Hannibal on his back – when all he wants to turn them over and map each inch of Face's skin with his mouth. An entirely, disgustingly romantic idea, but it's in his head anyway and Hannibal tells himself, later, as he rubs his thumb against Face's perineum and pops the lube open with the other hand.

He wets only his fingertips, then slides them over Face's cock from base to tip, over and over. He knows how it feels, how the lube is cooler than the untouched skin and how oddly pleasant the sensation is; Face's eyes are closed, his mouth dropped open, and Hannibal draws one finger over Face's balls.

Assured that Face is relaxed, Hannibal picks up the open tube and adds more to his fingers. He keeps attention on Face's cock as he does so, wanting Face to be focused on the pleasure than the awkward, odd feeling of being breached.

Two fingers rub Face's perineum this time and Face lifts his hips to give Hannibal more skin to touch, enjoying the little sparks that flutter behind his eyes; Hannibal keeps it up for a few minutes before pulling Face forward, arranging him so Face is on his hands and knees above Hannibal. He adds more lube and kisses Face as he slips one fingertip over Face's ass, gently pushing into him.

Face jumps, then goes completely tense.

Hannibal backs off, hand returning to Face's cock, and makes a split second decision. He wants to be inside Face, feel him and mark him, but Hannibal isn't going to last long enough to work Face up enough to want it; he needs to be eased into it and that's okay, Hannibal's going to get a lot of enjoyment out of blowing Face, fingerfucking him... Just not today.

"Okay," Hannibal whispers.

He wipes the lube left on his hand onto Face's thighs, slicks more onto himself, and pulls Face down fully. He grunts when Face gets with the program and closes his legs, cock pushed into Hannibal's pecs.

"Templeton," he murmurs, purposefully using Face's proper name.

"God, Hannibal." Face tries to stifle the groan as Hannibal thrusts, burying his face into the older man's shoulder and riding the wave of euphoria as Hannibal presses into his perineum again, thumb rubbing over Face's ass. "Fuck."

"Feels good, right, kid?" Hannibal asks, not expecting an answer, and turns his head to catch Face's mouth. It's sloppy and wet and Face pulls away, clamping both hands onto Hannibal's arms as he comes; the blush the spreads over his cheeks a minute later is adorable (Hannibal will never admit this outloud, though he does think it.)

"Sorry," Face says.

Hannibal pulls him in for another kiss and tells Face, "Lasted longer than I did the first time."

Face nods, a little smile on his lips, then kneels up. Hannibal's cock slides against his ass, drawing another grunt from Hannibal, and Face's smile turns to a smirk.

"Maybe we can work on my stamina then."

"You and me between the sheets
It just doesn't get better than this"
- Imogen Heap, Between Sheets -