WARNING: This story is SLASH and heavily features a (non-established) male/male, homosexual, man-loving relationship. If you do not like this, stop reading now. Thanks!

As usual, the A-Team had triumphed over the Bad Guys once again. And as usual, they were celebrating this victory with drinks at their residence du jour. As usual the third, Face was half-heartedly griping about the lack of feminine company and Hannibal was ignoring him. They just couldn't risk it, not in a town this small. Maybe somewhere bigger, with a population greater than 480, comprised of people from more than one family tree (or at least a tree with a few more branches), but here, they had to keep a low profile.

As low a profile as possible while running six thugs out of town with automatic rifles and a modified tank, of course. It was all about picking your battles.

So in spite of Face's usual grumblings about it being a sausage fest and BA's equally-typical complaints about having to deal with a drunk Murdock, the four of them celebrated this latest success by getting summarily toasted together.

Conversation and hard spirits flowed easily, as they tend to when people have known each other for nearly a decade and can say just about anything to each other. BA protested when Murdock tried to start a game of Truth Or Dare, but for all their volume, his shouts had no real bite. All of them floated merrily down the Rivers Jack, Bud and Vladko (the nostril-singeing cousin of vodka that Face had been persuaded to buy at the town's only liquor store) until well into the night. There may or may not have been singing at some point. BA and Hannibal would later deny it. Face and Murdock would see the glares on their larger teammates' faces and judiciously offer no comment.

Somewhere along the line, as often happens, the conversation turned salacious. Some might even say lewd. BA just groaned "Here we go again," into his glass. Leave Face and Hannibal (who was just as bad after a few drinks, no matter what he said) alone for a few minutes and they'd invariably end up talking smut like teenagers in a locker room.

"Seriously, it was so gross but it was almost magical," Face was saying over Hannibal's chuckles and the airplane sounds Murdock was making every time he spooned his Vladko lime and soda into his mouth (as was his custom). "It looked like… Okay you know the beard Brad Pitt grew after he started hanging out with Angelina Jolie?"

BA did not, because he didn't read fruity magazines at the salon while getting his foils done, but Hannibal apparently did because the old man nearly choked on his drink with a resurgence of uncontrollable laughter.

"Face, that's horrible," Hannibal coughed through tears.

"It's true!" insisted the blond. "I couldn't look away. It was like an enchanted forest."

"Would've been like kissing ZZ Top," observed Murdock, which sent Face and Hannibal into conniptions.

BA was mildly surprised – Crazy didn't often join in on the Terrible Two's cruder discussions. He wasn't sure why and didn't really want to think much about it. BA personally didn't tend to contribute because as much as he loved the guys and knew they were alright, these conversations could get a bit too close to what he'd call disrespectful. If BA was intimate with a woman, then he'd show her respect before, during and after the event. Even if he didn't know her name.

"ZZ Top," Face repeated, giggling and hiccupping slightly. He chewed on the curly straw he'd appropriated from somewhere. "You ever had a ZZ Top, Murdock? A Grizzly Adams?" He snorted at his own wit. "I'm not gonna bother asking Hannibal because he came into fruition in the 60s and we all know what that means."

Face was, mercifully, cut off from elaborating by Hannibal. "The 60s? How old do you think I am, Lieutenant?"

The conman appeared to consider it, putting a finger to his chin thoughtfully (missing the first two tries and finally getting there on the third). "Older than Jesus?" he answered innocently.

Even BA had to laugh at that.

"Old enough to put you over my knee, brat," growled Hannibal, but as with BA's threats to Murdock earlier, there was no menace to it.

"Sexy," Murdock drawled, making the obvious joke. "Can I watch?"

"Why Murdock, you kinky devil," exclaimed Face, putting one hand on his cheek like a scandalised damsel (he didn't miss this time, but he did slap himself harder than he would have if sober). "I had no idea!" His already-glassy eyes brightened as he had a thought. "Hey, what ARE you into, Murdock?" He pointed at the pilot with a lazy finger.

"Why?" asked Murdock, sucking on his spoon. "You making a list of things you haven't tried?"

Hannibal laughed and punched Face in the arm. Face nearly toppled off his chair. "He got you, Face."

The Lieutenant righted himself, more or less. "No, shush," he admonished Hannibal, which would never usually be tolerated but there were no ranks among Bros. "Murdock never joins in."

"Neither does BA," Murdock pointed out.

"Yeah, but." All eyes swivelled to BA. "He's scarier than you."

BA nodded solemnly. "Don't you forget it."

"I won't. Which is why I'm asking Murdock!" Face pointed to the pilot again, triumphantly. "Come on, buddy," he whined. "I've heard all of Hannibal's stories about women he met during the civil war." BA barked a laugh. "I'm sick of them. I want new ones. Come on, you never share. Pretty please?"

"I don't think I want to know what kind of stories Murdock has," commented Hannibal. BA clinked glasses with him in agreement.

"Is it because you haven't gotten laid in a while?" Face continued blithely. Murdock choked a little on his latest spoonful. "It's okay, we're all bros here." He made a broad sweep with his arm to indicate the Sharing Circle. "Oh. OH! I know what I'm gonna do. I'm gonna- We can go on a double date! Next time I meet a girl, I'll say, 'Do you have a hot friend or sister?' and she can bring her along and we can both get laid!"

"Can't imagine why I don't let you make all the plans, kid," Hannibal remarked, trying to figure out how to drink his scotch upside down to get rid of these meddlesome hiccups.

"I don't need you to get me laid, Face," was Murdock's amused reply. "Thanks though."

"No, don't be a spoilsport!" Face was fixated now. "Come on, it'll be fun. You never get laid."

Murdock's mouth dropped open. The spoon fell out. "Wha… Yes I do!" The protesting way he said it didn't help his case very much.

"No you don't," retorted Face childishly. "I never see it."

"What, you want me to do it in front of you?"

BA guffawed. "I can picture that. Faceman standing in the corner, taking notes."

"Holding up scorecards," agreed Hannibal.

"Extra points for a good dismount."

The two laughed loudly and clinked glasses again.

Face was looking petulant. He hated it when everyone ganged up on him. "No, you know what I mean." He turned back to Murdock. "I never see you pick up anyone, or go on dates. Even BA goes on dates!"

BA looked up. "Hey! Remember, I'm scarier than him."

"Are you shy?" Face asked Murdock, who looked like he was deciding whether or not to start getting offended. "Is it the crazy thing – do girls not like that? Oh! Is it your meds? Because, you know, I can get some pills to help with that if it's ever a probluuuurk."

The "uuuurk" wasn't part of Face's planned speech, but rather the result of Murdock standing up, grabbing the blond by his collar and hauling him bodily out of his chair. Without pausing or saying a word, Murdock continued out of the living room and down the hallway towards the bedrooms, dragging a startled Lieutenant behind him.

Hannibal and BA roared with laughter. "You're in for it now, Lieutenant," called Hannibal as the two younger men disappeared down the corridor.

"He's gonna beat your ass!" agreed BA.

Murdock's bedroom door slammed shut.

Face was pushed onto the bed so hard that he bounced. Murdock locked his door and kicked off his shoes swiftly, advancing for the bed with a strange look in his eyes.

Face sat up, trying to scramble backwards. "Hey man, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to maaah."

Yet again, the (usually) smooth-talking blond's words were cut off by Murdock. The pilot had grabbed the flailing conman's ankle and tugged sharply, halting Face's crabwalk towards the headboard. Face unbalanced, falling onto his back once more. Before he could sit up, Murdock was on top of him, straddling his hips and pinning Face's hands above his head.

Face had barely registered how strange yet erotic the position was when Murdock practically smothered him with a brutal kiss.

Face wasn't one to be easily dominated. It was all about the fight, the chase, the catch. But oh, how he'd secretly longed to find someone who could honestly catch him. Someone strong and powerful he could fight against with all his might and still be pinned beneath. Face had the fleeting thought that maybe Murdock could read minds, as he'd claimed to a few months ago during a Uri Gellar phase, before all but the most primal parts of his brain shut down under the bruising grip on his wrists and wet heat of Murdock's tongue in his mouth.

After all, Face was a hedonist at heart (and on his sleeve). He didn't care where pleasure was coming from, even if it was as unexpected a source as his mentally-quirky pilot.

One of Murdock's hands released Face's wrists, rubbing up and down his side briefly before fisting in his hair and tugging Face's head back. The angle was awkward, but exposed the curve of Face's neck. The conman arched into Murdock as the hand left his hair, groaning as his friend interspersed the kiss with nips to Face's lips and jawline. Every time Face thought he was getting into the rhythm of the kiss, Murdock would change it or switch tactics. He licked a hot, slow stripe up Face's throat. Kissed him for a few seconds then bit almost viciously at the junction of Face's neck and shoulder. Nibbled his ear. Peppered his jaw with kisses. Sucked on his tongue. Slow and fast, teasing and taking, Face couldn't keep up with what Murdock was doing. As Murdock leaned back slightly to pull off Face's t-shirt, the conman decided to just go with it.

As if sensing this change in attitude (Mindreader! thought Face accusingly), Murdock relaxed his one-handed grip on Face's wrists. Raising himself off the other man just enough to allow him to move, he pushed firmly on Face's shoulders, urging him to scoot back towards the headboard.

Murdock leaned around him, leaving the conman eye to eye with the Spongebob Squarepants on the front of his t-shirt. There was a tug on Face's left wrist and he craned his neck to see what was going on. Murdock slapped him lightly on the cheek in reproach, and Face shivered. He felt a tug on his other wrist and pulled at them experimentally. They were restrained but there was no bite.

As Murdock settled back, sitting on his thighs, Face looked at his friend. "Leather cuffs?"

The pilot grinned. "Couldn't tear up your delicate skin with the big boy ones, could I?"

The teasing tone brought some of Face's blood back to his brain, and he hazily remembered the conversation that had resulted in him being dragged into this room. A stab of disappointment caused Face's gut to clench slightly but he pushed it aside. He'd been cockteased by much prettier people, he assured himself, and one more night of solo action wasn't going to kill him. He kind of deserved it for being a dick, no matter how well-intended his comments were.

"Alright, you got me," he sighed, forcing a smooth smirk onto his face. "I concede: You know about sex. You don't need any help from me. You da man."

But Murdock was still straddling his legs, arching his back as he pulled off his cartoon t-shirt to reveal a muscled, scarred, Ranger's torso. It was easy to forget that Murdock wasn't fifteen sometimes, with his slender frame, baseball cap, cartoons and oh god. Murdock had cupped Face's erection through his jeans and squeezed, not too hard. Not nearly too hard.

Face whined. Murdock giggled (asshole) and squeezed again.

"Aw, Facey," he drawled, leaning in close. "I'm nowhere near done showing you what I know."