notjustaface | The Other Woman

The Other Woman

Charissa...

They met the officer's club, where else would he find a woman like her? She was passionate - intense, everything he wanted in a woman. It was easy to forget everything around her, everything about the man he was. She made it easy to turn a deaf ear on Hannibal's warnings about playing dangerous games and to turn a blind eye to the fact that Murdock was pulling away from him.

And it was all gone in an instant, the months together - the plans, the future.

They'd been lying in bed and he teased; "We're going to make such beautiful babies."

She laughed, at first. "How many of those beers have you had?"

"I mean it," and he really did, maybe it was time to settle down... do the family thing. "I'm being serious here."

Apparently she didn't feel the same. At least it sure as hell seemed that way when she walked out and stopped answering his calls and messages.

The second night alone he got a single text reply; "Don't call me again."

Well, that settles that. With a bottle of scotch alone in a dark room.

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He's only halfway down the bottle - and feeling pretty damn fine.

For a man who just doesn't give a shit anymore.

"Hmmm?" He groans, looking up at the door from the bed as the voice registers. Murdock is... well, not the last person he wants to see, but he's someone he can't face up and tell everything is fine.

Still, he tucks the bottle under his pillow and clears the rest of his glass before calling back; "Yeah... yeah, come on in."

He's not fooling anyone. Murdock knows his habits, and brought along supplies to curtail the inevitable consequences.

"How're you holdin' up?"

He also knows him well enough to not expect a straight answer to that question.

Word travels fast on a small base, and he's not shocked Murdock's already heard the news.

"Livin' the dream, man." He snorts, leaning back against the pillows. "Wanna go play some foosball? Heard the club's got a new table."

It's not too hard to notice when someone stops coming around.

"Maybe later ."

He takes a seat on the bed, setting the bag he brought between them.

"Talk to me, buddy."

Later, right. After a little heart to heart.

He snorts and shakes his head against the pillows, closing his eyes a long moment.

"Nothing to talk about."

It might do him some good, if he ever gets it through his skull that no one's going to think less of him because of what he's feeling.

"C'mon, just between the two of us."

They've never talked about the past much, but he's pieced together enough to know that Face doesn't deal well with being left behind.

He lets out a dry laugh and slips the bottle out from under his pillow - fuck it. As he pours himself another glass, he answers; "Let me tell you a little secret about women..."

He laughs again, bitter and a bit drunk. "Can I tell you?"

He hates seeing that bitterness, it makes him seem like a completely different person than the one he knows. He looks him in the eye resolutely.

"You can tell me anything."

He shakes his head, looking down into the drink in his hand. "Women... are..." the words are fading, slipping in and out of his head and he thinks he was going to say something about not knowing what they want, but what comes out is; "a pain in the ass."

He takes a long sip, feeling a little more sorted after.

"All the months I've wasted chasing something I'll never have." He holds out the bottle; "Drink?"

He shakes his head. One of them should really stay sober tonight.

"Did she say why?"

Face can be a real asshole sometimes, god knows, but he can't imagine leaving someone like that without at least giving them a reason.

"Suit yourself," he lets the bottle join the bag between them.

The question hits him like a kick in the chest and it's all he can do not to either break down or tear into him. But, it's Murdock... And he knows that he means well - it's genuine curiosity.

He replies being a swallow of scotch; "We didn't want the same thing." He lets out another bitter laugh; "For once I was the idiot that wanted something serious."

"Oh." and that makes sense, it really does. Face may be as commitment-shy as they come, but when he does decide he wants something real, he goes after it wholeheartedly.

"I'm sorry, man."

There's understanding and sympathy in his eyes as he scoots closer, but not pity. Neither of them have any use for pity.

The sympathy almost hurts as bad as pity would, so he forces a smile and huffs; "No big deal, it wouldn't have lasted anyway. I mean, me? Settled down?"

He sighs and sips his drink again, brain fuzzy and not exactly in a good place. "You know what? We should go pick up girls. Girls would be really nice right now."

"Gotta get back on that horse? So to speak."

He carefully wraps an arm around the other man's shoulder, knowing it's just as likely to get him punched in the face with the mood his friend is in. He just... needs him to know he's there.

"Tell you what, you still feel that way in an hour, we'll go out and you can chase all the girls you want. Just stay here with me a while first."

Hey, if not being enough of a player is what got him in this mess, what better way to celebrate his newfound singleness?

Still, after a moment of resistance, he relaxes against Murdock's shoulder and sets aside his drink. "I'm done with it, man. No more relationships."

"I hear ya, buddy."

His hand moves lower, rubbing gentle circles on Face's back.

"Brought some stuff to take your mind off things, if you want."

The touch conflicts his drunken mind, leaving him equal parts comforted and curious for more.

He tilts his chin to brush his lips against Murdock's cheek - feeling the missed sensation of skin against stubble.

"What kind of stuff?" He purrs.

He doesn't shy away from the kisses, letting Face take what he needs for the moment.

"Oh, you know.. games, music, movies."

He's prepared for other activities as well, though he'd rather not with Face in this condition.

"Anything you want."

Let it never be said he was one to turn down an offer...

"Anything?" He asks, letting an unsteady palm slide just inside Murdock's shirt.

If he's against the idea, it'll clearly have to be voiced given Face's state of mind.

"Mmhmm." He shivers at the hand on his side.

"But if you're lookin' for something physical, it'll have to wait 'til you're sober."

"Damn."

Managing open heavy eyes, he leaves his palm settled and attempts to negotiate; "I'm not that drunk..."

He probably is, because the room hasn't always been so warm and fuzzy.

"You kinda are," he replies quietly. And you're hurtin' and I'm not gonna take advantage of you like that, he thinks but doesn't say.

He knows he'll still be hurting in the morning. and probably for a good while after, even if he won't admit it, but he at least wants him to have a clear head before they go there again.

Even if they did, in the sober light of day he'd know that he wasn't the one who was taken advantage of.

He sighs, but there's no vitriol in it, and then pats Murdock's belly and pushes closer. "Yeah, I guess I kinda am."

He does want to think about it any more, doesn't want to think about her.

"Distract me?"

He holds him tighter, humming a soft tune as he rifles through his bag.

"Movie? We got Predator, Terminator 2, Point Break..."

Because making fun of Keanu Reeves is always good for a laugh.

"Anything you want," he murmurs with a soft smile.

And then; "Just stay a while, okay?"

He can't yet bring himself to say he doesn't want to be alone, but when his abandonment issues rear their ugly head all he really wants is to be wanted.

Even if it comes in the form of 'please fuck me.'

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