Prison Break - She would have not
Title: She would have not
Author: clair-de-lune
Fandom: Prison Break
Characters: Michael/Sara
Category: Het
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~ 605
Disclaimer: Not mine. Just borrowing them for a while.
Summary: Sara started it, really. (Post-series, non-epilogue compliant)
Author’s Note: Because of one of Michael’s remarks, let’s say this is set in the same universe as Rubber Band.
Many thanks to foxriverinmate for the beta and the plot bunny.
Sara started it, really.
She’s watching him with eyes sparking with anticipation, her lips parted and her breathing shallow, as he bows his head. After he’d recklessly admitted having nurtured a few fantasies back in Fox River - he’s a man, a red-blooded one, after all, isn’t he - she asked him, with a crooked smile and a lifted eyebrow, what he would have done if he could have.
She started it; he took up the challenge, sweet and cute, with a not too-saucy response. As he whispers his answers against her skin and nuzzles his way from her hand to her neck, the thought strikes him that she may not be as nice when her turn comes; it’s a thought he can live with.
He kisses the inside of her wrist, where the skin is almost paler, thinner and softer than anywhere else on her body - and God knows he’s checked and explored the various possibilities. He imagined doing this a few times, back in Fox River, when she let him hold her hand. Well... when he caught her hand and kept it in his for a couple of seconds before she slipped out of his hold. Today, he takes his time to savor the moment and the smoothness of her skin. He flicks his tongue across her pulse; she swallows hard.
He slides up the inside of her forearm, up to the tender hollow of her elbow. Her flesh is warmer, here, and more sensitive if the shiver that runs through her is any indication. He smiles at the small gasp she exhales, at the way she presses her arm into his face, silently demanding more. He dreamed of such a reaction, back in Fox River. He means, he actually dreamed of it. It made his next trip to the infirmary something between awkward and interesting. She chuckles at the confession; he nibbles her elbow in retaliation.
Up again, along the delicate line of her biceps and to the spot where her arm meets her torso. The swell of her breast, the skin even paler, thinner and softer than that of her wrist’s, slightly stretches the fabric of her blue tank top. He pushes the flimsy material with his nose and kisses the luscious curve. Now, this is something he always tried to avoid thinking about, back in Fox River. Way, way too troublesome. To be honest, he didn’t always manage successfully.
Her hand steals to the back of his skull and presses his face into her chest with an intensity he’s all too happy to inspire.
“Now,” he says when she lets him back away a few inches and look up, “what would you have done if you could have?”
“Fishing for compliments, Scofield?”
“Someone told me I should beef up my self-esteem. Following Doctor’s orders, Doc.”
He’s almost positive she grumbles smartass. With a smirk and more strength than someone looking that delicate should have, she rolls him under her on the large couch of the living room and settles on top of him, chest to chest, knees squeezing his hips. Her hair falls like a curtain around them.
“I don’t think you had enough room on the exam bed to do that...” he points out.
She shuts him up with a kiss and shimmies against him. She’s probably lying to his face. She was a professional: she would have not pressed him down into that narrow exam bed, pushed his arms above his head and kissed him that deep... and shamelessly rubbed herself against him... and...
He groans; she grins.
She would have not, but who cares about blatant lies when she actually does it now?
-End-
--Feedback is always welcome.
Author: clair-de-lune
Fandom: Prison Break
Characters: Michael/Sara
Category: Het
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~ 605
Disclaimer: Not mine. Just borrowing them for a while.
Summary: Sara started it, really. (Post-series, non-epilogue compliant)
Author’s Note: Because of one of Michael’s remarks, let’s say this is set in the same universe as Rubber Band.
Many thanks to foxriverinmate for the beta and the plot bunny.
Sara started it, really.
She’s watching him with eyes sparking with anticipation, her lips parted and her breathing shallow, as he bows his head. After he’d recklessly admitted having nurtured a few fantasies back in Fox River - he’s a man, a red-blooded one, after all, isn’t he - she asked him, with a crooked smile and a lifted eyebrow, what he would have done if he could have.
She started it; he took up the challenge, sweet and cute, with a not too-saucy response. As he whispers his answers against her skin and nuzzles his way from her hand to her neck, the thought strikes him that she may not be as nice when her turn comes; it’s a thought he can live with.
He kisses the inside of her wrist, where the skin is almost paler, thinner and softer than anywhere else on her body - and God knows he’s checked and explored the various possibilities. He imagined doing this a few times, back in Fox River, when she let him hold her hand. Well... when he caught her hand and kept it in his for a couple of seconds before she slipped out of his hold. Today, he takes his time to savor the moment and the smoothness of her skin. He flicks his tongue across her pulse; she swallows hard.
He slides up the inside of her forearm, up to the tender hollow of her elbow. Her flesh is warmer, here, and more sensitive if the shiver that runs through her is any indication. He smiles at the small gasp she exhales, at the way she presses her arm into his face, silently demanding more. He dreamed of such a reaction, back in Fox River. He means, he actually dreamed of it. It made his next trip to the infirmary something between awkward and interesting. She chuckles at the confession; he nibbles her elbow in retaliation.
Up again, along the delicate line of her biceps and to the spot where her arm meets her torso. The swell of her breast, the skin even paler, thinner and softer than that of her wrist’s, slightly stretches the fabric of her blue tank top. He pushes the flimsy material with his nose and kisses the luscious curve. Now, this is something he always tried to avoid thinking about, back in Fox River. Way, way too troublesome. To be honest, he didn’t always manage successfully.
Her hand steals to the back of his skull and presses his face into her chest with an intensity he’s all too happy to inspire.
“Now,” he says when she lets him back away a few inches and look up, “what would you have done if you could have?”
“Fishing for compliments, Scofield?”
“Someone told me I should beef up my self-esteem. Following Doctor’s orders, Doc.”
He’s almost positive she grumbles smartass. With a smirk and more strength than someone looking that delicate should have, she rolls him under her on the large couch of the living room and settles on top of him, chest to chest, knees squeezing his hips. Her hair falls like a curtain around them.
“I don’t think you had enough room on the exam bed to do that...” he points out.
She shuts him up with a kiss and shimmies against him. She’s probably lying to his face. She was a professional: she would have not pressed him down into that narrow exam bed, pushed his arms above his head and kissed him that deep... and shamelessly rubbed herself against him... and...
He groans; she grins.
She would have not, but who cares about blatant lies when she actually does it now?
-End-
--Feedback is always welcome.