notjustaface | Just Two Guys in Hammock

Just Two Guys in Hammock

Things have been going well, each mission the team seems a little closer - hell, they may as well be family... it's not like any of them have anyone else that would go out of their way to take care of them the way they take care of each other.

They're on standby in Borneo awaiting what Hannibal has assured them will be morning deployment working with another team of local boys that are sharing camp - after a few days it's a little more like a frat house on the beach than a half dozen tents and a couple APCs, nice and cozy complete with a campfire that never stops and free flowing local brew that comes in bright blue cans the size of an ankle and leaves behind a bitter aftertaste and substantial buzz after a few.

Relaxed, Face excuses himself from the circle of men around the campfire as Hannibal tells the story about the Venezuelan midgets to the rapt strangers and BA - he gives Murdock, who's hovering between the grill and the coolers, a nod - and then retires to his hammock just off the beach strung between a pair of tall, shaded trees.

He slings himself into the wide netting with a low, comfortable groan and downs the last of his beer before dropping the empty can where he can pick it up later.

"This is livin'..." At least as close to living as it gets when there's no solid roof over your head and the possibility of heavy artillery fire without notice.

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As far as downtime goes, it's definitely not bad. They've got kind of a cozy vibe going on.

After a few moments, he heads over to the hammock with a few more cans and a plate of cooked... something.

"Hey. Brought ya something to eat."

"Food?" He perks up, figuring at least some semblance of it. From the plate it looks like finger food - probably not actual fingers given the charred yellowish appearance.

"On a scale of one to ten, how likely is this stuff to end up with me in the latrine or on a medivac?"

Actual fingers are hard to obtain in the jungle. He's probably safe.

"Hmm." He tilts his head, seriously considering the question. "Maybe a five, dependin' on how much of that stuff you're plannin' to drink. Can I sit?"

A five is relatively safe... fifty/fifty he can handle. He's dodged worse.

Face leans back in the hammock, scooting aside just enough to leave a bit of room to join him - it's not the first time they've shared swinging arrangements, though it usually ends up with them more or less tangled and laughing their asses off until one of them falls out.

"Mmm, I think I have hit my limit of jungle booze... one of the local boys said it'll put hair on my chest and I'm already a bit itchy." He flashes a smile, reaching for the plate to test his luck.

"You're hairy enough already."

Let us not ponder how he knows this. (Other than Face's documented proclivity for not wearing shirts, of course.)

"Here, try one."

He carefully settles in next to him and holds out a piece for him to take.

Shirts are confining - nipples were meant to be bare... just let the wild nipples run free, Murdock.

He's a bit buzzed, and not wearing a shirt, so he glimpses down at his tanned pecs to confirm with a shrug. "You probably should have stopped before you started, monkey man..." he teases, waiting until the hammock is stable again before eyeing the piece of... something... warily.

With an almost lecherous grin, he leans forward and collects it with a sweep of his tongue and lips against Murdock's fingers - slowly tasting something reminiscent of both charcoal and bananas... with a bit of heat underneath.

"I'm getting curry..." he says, mouth still full as he slowly bites down into the nibble.

"Mmmhmm. New recipe."

Pushing aside the shiver that goes through him at the contact, he snuggles in a bit closer.

"More?"

"Banana?" He asks with a raise of the eyebrow, swallowing the lump with a curious tilt of his lips.

"Am I eating curried bananas?"

It's not bad, and probably won't destroy his system... he's in.

This time he picks up one of the lesser charred lumps for himself, licking his fingers after pushing it between his lips. "It's not bad..."

He idly reaches out with his foot and sets the hammock swaying gently, mindful of their rather precarious position.

"Was thinkin' of adding somethin' with a little more kick next time, but I figured I'd start off simple."

The gentle sway eases his slightly-fuzzy brain and he takes another piece and eats it readily before settling the plate on Murdock's lap to relax down fully on his back.

"Not too much kick, there or you won't taste the sweetness." He plucks a piece from the plate and offers it up to him; "Eat it slow and see what I mean."

See, now that's just not fair. He's already eaten several during the cooking process, but he takes the offered treat anyway, chewing slowly while he tries to process the thoughts going through his head.

"Hmm. Yeah, you might be right."

Face has never been one to play fair, consciously or not... he plays to win.

His lips stretch into a smile at the wet brush of somewhat less-than-graceful lips against his fingertips, warmed to a soft and unexpected flush.

"Of course I'm right." He replies, lowering his hand but letting it rest on Murdock's chest comfortably.

"Cocky bastard," he replies fondly as he settles in closer, letting his head rest on Face's shoulder. A soft breeze rustles the trees above them.

"This's nice."

"You say that like's a bad thing," he murmurs in reply, the momentary thought of another can of beer warming in the sand passes through his brain but is quickly replaced with the fact that yeah... it's pretty fucking nice.

Peaceful, comfortable. The gentle sway of the hammock under them and solid body curled against him don't exactly hurt. Part of him supposes it should be awkward what with the whole possibility of immanent danger and Murdock being Murdock and not the hot Malaysian officer that was definitely not into him if the knife to his throat the day before was to be believed - but it's not bad at all.

Edited (CAN OF BEAR. THAT'S WHY IT PUTS HAIR ON YOUR NUTS.) 2013-03-05 04:38 (UTC)

The thing about questionable sanity is that it's often easy to chase all those pesky details of reality away. He could easily stay like this for the foreseeable future.

"So.. you do this often?"

He's more or less used to Murdock's questions by now... but no less puzzled by what they're actually referring to.

"Mmm? Drink beer and lay in a hammock in the rain-forest? I wish..." he chuckles under his breath, wiggling just a little closer to get comfortable. "You know what I do, man."

At least when he's not busy trying to get into trouble... and succeeding.

He sighs, but welcomes the additional closeness.

"Yeah... that's what I figured."

The sigh raises an eyebrow, but he lets it go in favor of plucking another banana bit to savor.

"You got something on your mind?" He finally asks after a drawn silence; "Worried about this mission?"

He's never known Murdock to be worried about anything Hannibal plans - and there's been some pretty insane plans over the years - but he figures there's something up or he wouldn't be so quiet.

He shakes his head.

"I'm talking about this." He nudges Face gently with his shoulder. "Two guys."

Platonic pseudo-cuddling? Not so much... but his buzzed mind takes it a little bit further than that.

Awkwardly, his grin stretches and he picks up another piece of charred banana, holding it up for his friend. "Is that an offer?" He purrs; "Or just curiosity? Because... you know... don't ask, don't tell, man."

He doesn't mean to come off as flirty, but everything about his answer probably answers anything underlying that question.

"What would you say if it was?"

He's a lot quieter than usual, his typical exuberance toned down as he looks at the man beside him.

Maybe it's the beer talking - he'll believe firmly it's the beer talking - but that shy little question is probably the single most adorable thing he's ever heard.

And mostly unexpected. Mostly, as he's always worked under the impression most people have at least a latent attraction to whatever angle he's working. Undermined by the fact that sober he'd know he doesn't work an angle when it's just them.

A little stunned he laughs awkwardly and lowers his eyes, licking his lips before he says; "I'd say that I'm very flattered."

"But not interested?"

It's somewhere between a question and a statement. It doesn't stop him from leaning against him further.

"It's okay, you can say so. Just between us, right?"

His response is part instinct to comfort someone he cares about, part instinct to take advantage of a situation that he thinks might be beneficial to him... and he's not really sure yet at what ratio.

Rolling toward him, letting the plate tip between them and spill burned curried bananas on the ground, he tilts Murdock's chin up to meet his waiting lips without comment.

The warm brush of lips against lips is comment enough in his mind.

Even though he's not really sure if he is or not.

The surprised noise he makes quickly turns into a pleased sigh as he dares to move in and deepen the kiss, his hand resting on Face's bare chest. After a moment of exploration, he pulls back. There's more than metaphorical swaying going on... a hammock in Borneo probably wasn't the best place to be making this discovery.

"Just so I have a baseline, how drunk are you right now?"

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