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Just let it go

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The moment Face, exiting the dirty bathroom of the bar he had crashed in after a horrible day at the base, stumbled blindly in a muscular chest he instantly knew who the chest belonged to: John Smith. His CO, his friend, his ‘step-father’, his secret desire. Of all the men he could happen to meet that night, in that hole they still called “Blue Moon Bar”, he was the only one Face really didn’t want to see. The Colonel had been hard on him all day: claiming they were going to enjoy a new survival training, he deliberately kept on pushing the LT to his limits and further until finally he declared they were finished with the nonsense; at this point, Face was exhausted and hurting, his right shoulder was throbbing painfully, because of the physical activity of the day and because it was still a little tender after he had been shot a month ago on a mission. Because of that, Hannibal had insisted they should be more prepared and actually scheduled a full day of survival training per week; Face agreed with him, training was always good and it surely would help in case they were in dangerous situations; but the today session had been really hard on everybody. He was the one who actually complained about it, more than once, with the result Hannibal vexed him more than anyone.

“Problems, Lieutenant?” the older man asked, gripping Face’s biceps in a deathly grip, guiding him to the office in the back of the place. Face tried to resist but Hannibal didn’t let go of him and pushed him nothing but roughly in the open door, closing it behind him.

“Hannibal, what do think you’re doing?” Face asked, his tone menacingly calm.

“It’s Colonel to you, Lt! Are you drunk?” Hannibal barked in reply, taking a step closer to the younger man and noticing the blood on the once white shirt and the state the kid was in.

“What? I’m not drunk, Hannibal. What the fuck do you want from me?” Face hissed then, ignoring the order of referring to him using his formal ranking.

“You’ve got a black eye, your nose is bleeding and your shirt is torn. I want an explanation. Now!” the Colonel reiterated on the same tone.

“Fuck you, Hannibal! You’re not my father! What I do in my free time is just my business.” The LT spat out and tried to pass him, with no avail.

“I am not your father but I am your CO and you belong to me even in your free time! Was I clear? Now, I’m still waiting for an answer!”

Face knew when Hannibal was so pissed off there was no way to calm him down but really he didn’t do anything wrong, except talking with the girlfriend of a huge, drunk and very jealous soldier who decided to use him as his private punching ball.

“I didn’t do anything wrong, Colonel. You should talk to the guy who attacked me without any reason…”

“I saw him. He hit you pretty hard, are you sure you’re ok?” Hannibal’s tone changed in a worried one.

“I am fine, just a bruised ego. No need for you to worry, Sir!”

The Colonel sighed and looked at his LT in a strange way that made Face uncomfortable. As suddenly as it came, the day-dreaming expression changed and Hannibal resumed his usual manners. “You should get some rest. You’re staying with me tonight, kid.” He stated, leaving no room for other options.

Face was furious. He didn’t need anyone to look after him, it just happened he didn’t see the big guy because when he started to talk with his girlfriend he was on the outside smoking. “I don’t need a baby-sitter, Hannibal!” he tried to protest but it was useless; Hannibal was able to drag him to his home outside of the base by force if he wanted to and Face wanted to avoid the older man to touch him more than necessary.

Since the very beginning, the LT had always been fascinated by the Colonel, not only because he was a great officer but he was also gentle and caring and so damn ‘hot’! He had a brilliant mind and he was good at his work, very good. That was the reason for being assigned to his unit was the dream of every Ranger.

To Face, being part of John Smith’s A-Team was an honor, most of the times, and a core, other times: it was difficult to remain focused on a task when Hannibal’s arms were around him, like during their last mission, when he got shot and the Colonel had held him close to his chest, comforting him and actually embracing him until the R&S unit arrived.

He would never admit it with anyone but he thought he fell in love with the man since the first time he saw him: there was nothing in his muscular body that wasn’t perfect, even his nose, which Hannibal broke two times, but it gave him a clever look and Face loved that look. And those hands, so big, and his smell, a mix of tobacco and guns, so amazing!

And those hands where now helping him to sit in the jeep, then handing him his sunglasses - which Face put on so to cover the black eye – and finally stroking his hair before heading ‘home’. Once inside, the older man guided the LT in the bedroom where he actually started to undress. Face felt his heart thundering in his chest and he was sure the older man could hear it too; what game was the Colonel playing?

“Sit down, Face.” He ordered but Face still remained on his feet beside the door, looking clearly startled by the strange behaviour of his superior. “I just want to help you to relax, LT! How’s the shoulder?” he asked.

“Hurts a little…” the younger man admitted, blushing slightly when the Colonel removed his shirt and remained bare-chested.

“Come here! Come on, I’m not going to hurt you.” And Face actually came closer to the older man, sitting on the edge of the bed still fully dressed, looking at the floor. “You’ll have to remove your shirt if you want me to massage your back!” Hannibal explained and the younger man complied, not really wanting to go away but still ashamed of his feeling towards the other man.

Once they both were half-naked, Hannibal checked the kid’s nose, disinfected the cut on the kid’s bicep and dressed the wound with a clean bandage, then made Face lie on his stomach a inspected the kid’s shoulder starting to gently massage it, feeling the younger man melting under his touch.

“Feels good?” he asked, feeling guilty for having almost kidnapped his LT only to lay his hands on him. Face moaned in reply, sinking in the mattress even more: the LT was lost in his own world as Hannibal continued to rub his back and an unexpected cry of pleasure erupted from him just as he felt himself becoming hard. He hoped the older man hadn’t noticed it but when he opened his eyes Hannibal was watching him with the strange look and his hands were now trembling.

Looking down at the Colonel’s pants, Face saw the older man was hard too and released a nervous laugh.

“All this time wondering about you and now you tell me you gave me all those bullshits at the bar just to go away and to touch me, Colonel?”

Hannibal blushed slightly but soon recovered from his stupor. “It was a pretty stupid move, but kid, you should have seen yourself today, did they ever tell you how hot you are in fatigues?”

“You’re the first!”

“Do you want me to teach you a good relaxation technique?” Hannibal teased, reaching for the zipper of the LT’s pants and pulling it down.

Face moaned in pleasure and answered a weak “Sir, yes, Sir!” in reply. The Colonel didn’t waste time.

“I’ve wanted this for so long, Face!”

“Me too, Hannibal! Make love to me!”

“Sir, Yes, Sir!”.