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Happiness Is A Warm Gun	By : Stiney Category: 1 through F > A-Team, The (2010) > A-Team, The (2010) Views: 1169 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do NOT own the A-Team or any of its characters. I do not make any money off of ANY these stories.

Chapter List
- 1-Happiness Is A Warm Gun
- 1
WARNING: Language, explicit rough sex (Face/Murdock),dark and sadomasochistic themes, kinky consensual sexual violence and last but not least, gun play.

The second the door to the shitty motel closed Face was slammed against it hard enough to make it creak. He grinned and bucked as a hot mouth ran over his skin while fingers deftly unbuttoned his shirt.

The conman cried out at the sharp sting of teeth on nipple, a rough tongue barely soothing.

When Murdock looked up at him, eyes dark and dangerous, Face knew there’d be no slow tonight, no love making full of laughter. That this was something they could have, that they both understood, needed it to hurt sometimes, made him shudder.

*****

It hadn’t always been like this, even if it was there right under the surface. Murdock with his biting, Face and the occasional restraints, neither of them fully admitting to the exhilaration from pain.

When they were in Iraq the adrenaline rush from all the hiding and lying, trying to find whatever little space together had been enough.

But things had changed when they were screwed over not once, but twice. Being forced to go on the run had been frenzied, difficult and the only option was to adapt whether they could or not.

It wasn’t the life any of them wanted to live but for two years that’s exactly what they had been doing. They spent half their time hoping they’d find jobs and when they did that they wouldn’t go to shit. The other half was spent running from the military; none of them willing to go back when they knew what was waiting if they did.

Hannibal dealt with the pressure by coming up with new plans and finding them constant jobs.

B.A. would tear things apart, cars, electronics, anything he could get his hands on just so he could put it back together.

Face and Murdock took a more animalistic approach to the stress. They fucked. The worse the situation was at any given moment, the more rough and violent they became.

Finger indentations left on the pilot’s neck where Face pressed into his windpipe as Murdock writhed under the conman’s harsh thrusts. Or Face not able to sit properly for three days when Murdock’s punishing blows to his ass had broken skin and neither of them had noticed because they were both too focused on Face’s gasps and screams for more.

They knew the activity didn’t go unnoticed by their teammates but they didn’t care. Especially in the mornings with bruises and welts taking the edge off whatever stress there’d been beforehand. The two of them would be relaxed and practically melting into one another, all the manic energy fiercely sated by the same hands that in the sunlight only soothed gently.

Hannibal and B.A. never said anything when there was swelling that hadn’t been there the night before or the occasional hisses of pain from the pair. Even after the job six months ago where they didn’t get paid and they’d barely slipped away from the MPs.

It had been a particularly vicious night, one that resulted in a split lip for the pilot and various deep bite marks that Face hadn’t even tried to cover when they’d joined their teammates in the kitchen the following day.

B.A. had averted his eyes and taken his breakfast to the garage but Hannibal had stood his ground as Murdock happily hummed while digging around in the fridge.

Face met the Colonel’s gaze, daring him to say something but when Murdock reverently ran a hand over a teeth-shaped weal on the conman’s upper arm, Hannibal backed down and the pair were left to do as they pleased when it came to their bedroom activities, no matter how aggressive.

*****

Murdock lunged forward, yanking at Face’s hair as he crashed their mouths together. The kiss all teeth, painful and biting until the pilot let go and went quickly to his knees. His hand ran forcefully over the front of Face’s trousers while the other searched underneath the conman’s sports coat.

He started again with teeth and Face grabbed his hair, wondering briefly if it wouldn’t be better, safer to shove Murdock down onto the bed and fuck him into the mattress.

With a wicked, razor edged smile the pilot shifted back as he let his tongue run along the barrel of the Glock he’d taken from Face’s shoulder holster.

“Fuck.” Face growled; fingers tightening in shaggy locks as Murdock lapped lazily at the pistol’s muzzle. He stood transfixed, heart thumping as Murdock continued his obscene exploration of the weapon.

A glimpse of green eyes before they fell shut when the pilot slid the barrel into his mouth had Face’s hips swaying. Murdock kept one hand on the gun as he reached for Face, nimbly undoing his zipper and delving beneath fabric to wrap around hot hardness.

Murdock moaned as his finger teased against the trigger before he pulled off the Glock, the barrel shiny with spit.

“Give it to me.” Face demanded and tugged the pilot against his crotch when the pistol was placed in his hand. “You wanna suck on something, have at it.”

Murdock snickered lightly and Face usually would have joined in with the laughter, at the ridiculousness of his words but not tonight.

Things were too close, too claustrophobic, making Face feel like he needed to fight his way out and if that was with Murdock, then so be it. They’d done it plenty of times before and would most assuredly do it again.

Neither of them truly had control over even the simplest things in their lives, but this was something the military, drug dealing thugs or even the sometimes tenuous grasp on reality couldn’t take. There wasn’t much, but they could use the brutality to ground each other. The agony to haul themselves back from the edge when jumping seemed such an easier option.

“Did I tell you to fucking laugh?” Face growled, pressing the muzzle firmly against Murdock’s temple.

The pilot looked up; smirking as he gave Face’s cock a rough twist. “Nope.” Tongue sliding along the leaking slit.

Face bit the inside of his cheek, trying to keep himself composed.

“Then shut the fuck up and suck my cock.” Another jab with the pistol and Murdock complied with a wanton moan, taking his lover in.

Face yanked Murdock against his pelvis and the sound of the pilot gagging had him giving a deep thrust just to hear it again. As Murdock continued with strong, wet suction Face ran the pistol against the pilot’s cheek and along his lasciviously working throat.

Murdock shifted, fumbling with his own pants and Face knew the second the pilot laid a hand on himself as his moan reverberated through the conman’s entire body.

“Fuck, you’re filthy. What’s got you tugging your cock so hard? The fact you’re sucking mine or this?” Face pressed the muzzle solidly to Murdock’s hollowed cheek and could feel it as his cock slid in and out of the pilot’s mouth. He left it in place, knowing it would most certainly leave a bruise that both of their teammates would recognize.

“Yeah, oh fuck, that’s it.” Face panted, feeling heat race down his spine as his orgasm washed over him.

Murdock reached up and guided the pistol back to his temple as he frantically nodded his head. Face pulled the trigger and Murdock released him, rocking back with a wail. Cum and spit dripped down the pilot’s chin as his hips bucked chaotically towards his own completion.

Face continued with the clicks of an empty pistol until Murdock shakily slumped forward, hands digging into the disgusting motel carpet as his back heaved with the effort of breathing.

Face reholstered the pistol then sank to the floor, reaching to bring his lover close, but his heart fell and his stomach roiled when Murdock shoved him away and asked...

“Why’d you empty it?”
- 1
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Happiness Is A Warm Gun