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It was no secret that Murdock's mind traveled a hundred miles a second, it was no secret that he could never seem to stay still in one place for too long. Murdock liked crazy antics and he was a fool, B.A. knew. It was no secret, after all.
So one day he'd decided he had enough. He'd been tinkering with something or other, nothing really, but Murdock had been trying his best to be incredibly annoying and B.A. had been making a point of ignoring him. It never went well, that.
"Just what does it take for you to shut up?" B.A. had burst out, in the end.
Murdock had pondered the question at length. Murdock always did that, Murdock replied to rhetorical questions. "I don't know," he'd said with a shrug. "They tried gagging me once, but it didn't work."
B.A. had already tossed away his wrench in exasperation at that point, so his hands had been left with nothing to tighten their hold onto. Except Murdock.
He'd taken the few steps between the two of them and had grabbed Murdock's upper arm in a tight grip. "Listen, you fool-" he'd started, but trailed off after a moment.
Murdock had made a strange sound in the back of his throat, almost like a whimper. A small, surprised sound. He'd looked at B.A.'s fingers - tight around his arm, so tight it had to be hurting - and then at B.A. with big, round eyes. The thing that had given him pause was, it hadn't been fear.
"Oh," B.A. had whispered.
Murdock had licked his lips.
And that was what brought them here, B.A. guessed; although, not really. What brought them here was the years of acquaintance, the bickering, the trust, Murdock being Murdock and himself being himself. But that little sound - that small, wonderful sound - that had certainly been the catalyst.
Because right now, with B.A. shoving Murdock against the wall, his overalls down to his ankles and Murdock's pants lost somewhere near the workbench, he's trying to find that sound again. He shoved Murdock's face against the plaster, and he'd have worried about being too rough, except Murdock was moaning and babbling meaningless words, and his hand reached back blindly until it landed on B.A.'s hip and pulled.
And Jesus, yes- B.A. didn't need any more encouragement. He circled Murdock's shoulders and neck with one arm, and guided himself inside him with the other hand. It was a slow burn, like a shiver that runs down your neck and ends up behind your knees.
It was just like that. Maybe not enough lube to be painless, but Murdock made that sound again and B.A. buried his face in the hair at the back of his neck, curled and sweaty; their moans started separate and became one to finally die and be drowned in hot breaths, when he B.A. was fully inside Murdock.
"Murdock," B.A. said. "Murdock," and then he bit and licked at all the skin he could reach for fear of saying something foolish.
Murdock said nothing. He just opened his mouth a few times, soundlessly, and panted. After a few moments he moaned and pushed back against him and B.A. got it and he started moving.
Murdock didn't stay still, unless you held him down. And that wasn't totally true either.
But then again, B.A. liked it when he squirmed.