notjustaface | Boundaries

Boundaries

They were fugitives. Somehow just saving the fucking day wasn't enough - and sure, breaking out of prison was against the law but in Face's mind that didn't make it right to end up headed back into custody when they should be celebrating.

So they ran until the Colonel told them it was time to stop for a few days and get their bearings. Face was left with the distinction of scamming a place to stay - which led him to a small house by an oil refinery that had been on the market over a year with no takers.

A quick trip to the realtor's office to get the lockbox key led to a gorgeous new agent named Lynn or Linda or maybe Lori... But she was cute and unhappily married and fell right into Face's trap.

Dinner led to drinks and by the second martini he was feeling like his old self again. The Faceman... Smooth player that gets what he wants. The man that has no problem flirting, kissing her and when she starts leaning closer against him and touching his chest he's the man that leans in and murmurs against her ear; "We should go back to your place."

And two hours later, smelling of sex and cheap perfume mingled with cigarettes and gin, he lets himself out of her condo with the key and couple 'borrowed' fifties to pick up some burgers for the guys to make up for being late to their seven o'clock rendezvous.

"Dinner delivery," he grinned, knocking on the equally 'borrowed' van's sliding door.

"Took you long enough", Hannibal frowns as he takes his styrofoam box. "You're the only con who needs four hours to book a hotel room."

Face clicks his tongue, sliding in beside Murdock with a subconscious distance between them. "Hannibal, I'm hurt. Cons get you a two-star single occupancy..." He holds up the key with a self-satisfied smirk; "Artists get you a house."

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He huffs, pulling away from him.

"Y'know, forget it. Forget I even brought it up."

If it was someone he could walk away from, this would be a hell of a lot easier. As it is, he clenches his hand tight.

"No, I'm not going to forget it. Obviously this is a big deal for you and if it's a big deal we should address it. You thought I was out of line, I get that."

He shakes his head, looking back up him; "You want limits, I'm listening."

"I don't even know what I want anymore," he sighs.

"Don't give me that bullshit," he replies softly, shaking his head even harder.

"You know exactly what you want - you always have. Just spit it out."

He doesn't know why it's so hard. Whether it's the reminder of how often his feelings have been ignored in the past, or the fact that Face still doesn't get why he's so upset, but whatever patience he had left is pretty much gone.

"How about we start by talking about this like adults instead of trying to figure out who to blame?"

Talking. Always talking.

He closes his eyes a long moment and then nods slowly.

"All right, I can do that."

It's a start. And it's not any easier on his end of the conversation.

"For one thing, could you maybe clue me in when this might be happening so at least I'm not surprised when you come back smelling like cheap perfume?"

"It's not like I go out knowing that's the way it's going to happen... it's just one of those things that if everything lines up a certain way - hey, it happens."

He shrugs; "I'll try."

"I know. And I'm not askin' you to stop doing it."

He may hate it, but he knows that sometimes it is necessary.

"Just... promise you'll try."

He hates how needy he sounds, but he has to know he's taking this seriously.

"See... the problem is, when you say it like that it makes me think that you really do think I'm doing this for kicks." He chuckles halfheartedly; "And you know what, maybe sometimes I do but I mean it when I say I'm serious about this."

He hates to admit it, and maybe it sounds cheesy to do it in the middle of a fight, but it's true.

"I don't want to hurt you."

"See, you say stuff like that and it's really hard to stay mad at you."

He shakes his head.

"Almost makes me wonder if you do that on purpose."

Okay, he's a con-artist, and yeah... manipulation is sort of his bread and butter but it's not like that.

Not with Murdock.

"Christ..." he sighs, unlocking his hand and then curling it into another fist until he can feel the ache across his scarred knuckles.

"If you think I'd ever do that to you without a very, very good reason. One that's a hell of a lot better than a real estate agent with a failing marriage and a special key that means we don't have to commit breaking and entering..."

He takes his hand instinctively, running his thumb over the scars. He's always loved Face's hands.

"I know you don't mean to."

He never does - he's always known that Face would never intentionally hurt him in any way - but that doesn't make it any easier to deal with.

"... You said 'made love.'"

The touch grounds him again, brings him back to the reality of what they're actually talking about. They're both scared, they're both treading on new ground and it isn't like a mission where they can build on everything that's come before.

He lets out another sigh, not as frustrated as before, and shrugs. "What if I did?"

"You said it on the ship too."

He wonders, on some level, if it's Face's way of distinguishing what they do together from what he does with the girls he scams.

On another level he thinks that may be giving him too much credit.

Tensing unexpectedly, he pulls his hand away to cross his arms over his chest. It hadn't exactly been something he planned on saying, but his mouth doesn't always have time to commune with his brain when Murdock's around. Especially when he's in that warm fuzzy state of mind where all he wants to do is wrap him up in tender emotions that make him feel far more naked than being fucked.

After a long moment and several deep, slow breaths, he says; "Because when it's us it's not like some waitress or a guy in a bar." He looks away, anywhere but where he knows he should be looking. "Because when it's with you it matters."

He tugs at his hand again, trying to break through the shell of confused emotions.

"You couldn't say it at all before..."

Before their lives got shot to hell.

"Things change, Murdock." He replies somewhat bitterly. "Maybe knowing that I lost something I could have had years ago finally made it sink in."

He really doesn't know why it's easier now, just that the times when he doesn't have to try to make it happen are fewer and further between.... It just happens sometimes.

"Look, I'm not good at this whole.... Relationship thing. And it still freaks me out, just less than it did before."

"Maybe that's what scares me," he says quietly. "The whole 'absence makes the heart geow fonder' thing."

He shakes his head. "Hell, none of this makes any sense to me either."

"Not fonder." He corrects, letting Murdock's hand cling to his because it does feel good - even when he knows he's still not off the hook. Not fonder at all, just a little more willing to deal with it.

"It is what it is, right? And if it really hurts you... yeah, I'll try to be better about it, okay?"

"Wish I could say it didn't, but yeah... it does."

He squeezes his hand gently before pulling away.

"Might take the couch tonight. I need to think."

He turns his hand, gripping Murdock's fingers tight.

"No... don't... don't do that." He sighs, shaking his head. "Look, I know you're pissed at me but don't be like that."

"Don't be like what?"

It hurts a little, hearing the need and the fear in his voice, but he needs to know that his actions have consequences.

"It's just for tonight."

He's clinging, guilty and just a little desperate to be forgiven.

"Just... don't hate me, okay? I did my job and I guess I didn't really think about it. I'm thinking now."

"Did I say I hated you?"

He pulls him closer for a brief kiss on the head before letting go.

"One of these days we're gonna talk about why you're so scared of people leavin' you, but I said I wouldn't and I meant it. I just need some space right now."

Boundaries

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