Prison Break - A Smudge of Darkness
Title: A Smudge of Darkness
Author: clair-de-lune
Fandom: Prison Break
Characters: Michael/Lincoln
Category: Slash
Rating: R
Warning: Incest
Disclaimer: Not mine. Just borrowing them for a while.
Summary: There’s no light for them at the end of this road. (Season 2)
Author’s note: Written for Porn Battle XIV for the prompt Michael/Lincoln, Darkness
Many thanls to foxriverinmate for the beta.
There’s no light.
The night has fallen, pitch black and velvety, hardly any stars at all, and there’s no light. Michael smells like sweat and dirt and tastes like life under Lincoln’s mouth. Lincoln kisses him deep, deep, deeper as if he wants to devour him. His hand slides down to Michael’s groin, directly and without hesitation, because it’s been too long since they’ve done this and, sure, he wants to make it right, he wants to make it last, he wants to make it good, he wants a shower and a large fresh bed to savor it, he wants to kiss, lick and stroke Michael until Michael pants and surrenders, but there’s no way all that happens for now.
For now, they have the dirt, the road in the middle of Nowhere, Colorado, the battered car, and barely enough stars above their heads to allow Lincoln to make out the crazy patterns of the tattoos when he opens Michael’s shirt.
Michael kisses back and holds onto him, gripping him tight like he’s afraid Lincoln will vanish. Lincoln knows ‘cause he feels the same. How can you be sure, in that obscurity, that the other one isn’t going to dissolve and disappear? It’s been so close, could still happen if the cops, the FBI, the world catch up to them.
Michael grasps his ass and kneads, moves onto his hips and tries to turn him around, bend him over the hood of the old car, lay him down... Lincoln resists and shakes his head, a single ‘no’ that he’s not sure Michael can even see. He gets it, he knows what Michael wants, how he wants to do it. But not this time. Not like that. Not in the name of some macho man-ism, so-called dominance or whatever absurd reason, but because Michael has sinned enough to save him, to love him. If one of them has to take responsibility for what they’re about to do, take the blame, it will be Lincoln.
Michael struggles, fights him off, but at the same time, he lies face down on the car and cants his hips up; offers himself to whatever Lincoln wants to do to him.
Saliva is all that Lincoln has to ease his way in and he doesn’t even bother using much of it. It hurts, though not as much as it could because need and urgency are powerful enablers, but that’s okay. It’s not meant to be about pleasure.
Michael rears up beneath him and whispers a breathless “Harder.” Lincoln smiles darkly. He’s always liked it rough and deep, his baby brother - to give as well as to take it rough and deep - so Lincoln obliges him, delivers on what he wants and needs. He snaps his hips fast and brisk and blankets him, buries himself to the hilt into Michael’s heat, and bites the side of his neck.
Lincoln keeps moving in him as long as he stays hard, even after both of them have come; even as Michael begs him to stop, yet does nothing to make him stop, and relaxes in his embrace.
Michael turns his head to the side. All Lincoln can see is his eyes, shiny wet in the dark.
In a few hours, the morning will come back, and with it the sun that will bathe everything in a hot, implacable light. They’re free and they’re alive, and that belongs to the light - but no light shines clear and bright enough to dispel the smudge of darkness within them.
Neither of them cares to dissipate it.
FIN
--Feedback is always welcomed and appreciated :)
Author: clair-de-lune
Fandom: Prison Break
Characters: Michael/Lincoln
Category: Slash
Rating: R
Warning: Incest
Disclaimer: Not mine. Just borrowing them for a while.
Summary: There’s no light for them at the end of this road. (Season 2)
Author’s note: Written for Porn Battle XIV for the prompt Michael/Lincoln, Darkness
Many thanls to foxriverinmate for the beta.
There’s no light.
The night has fallen, pitch black and velvety, hardly any stars at all, and there’s no light. Michael smells like sweat and dirt and tastes like life under Lincoln’s mouth. Lincoln kisses him deep, deep, deeper as if he wants to devour him. His hand slides down to Michael’s groin, directly and without hesitation, because it’s been too long since they’ve done this and, sure, he wants to make it right, he wants to make it last, he wants to make it good, he wants a shower and a large fresh bed to savor it, he wants to kiss, lick and stroke Michael until Michael pants and surrenders, but there’s no way all that happens for now.
For now, they have the dirt, the road in the middle of Nowhere, Colorado, the battered car, and barely enough stars above their heads to allow Lincoln to make out the crazy patterns of the tattoos when he opens Michael’s shirt.
Michael kisses back and holds onto him, gripping him tight like he’s afraid Lincoln will vanish. Lincoln knows ‘cause he feels the same. How can you be sure, in that obscurity, that the other one isn’t going to dissolve and disappear? It’s been so close, could still happen if the cops, the FBI, the world catch up to them.
Michael grasps his ass and kneads, moves onto his hips and tries to turn him around, bend him over the hood of the old car, lay him down... Lincoln resists and shakes his head, a single ‘no’ that he’s not sure Michael can even see. He gets it, he knows what Michael wants, how he wants to do it. But not this time. Not like that. Not in the name of some macho man-ism, so-called dominance or whatever absurd reason, but because Michael has sinned enough to save him, to love him. If one of them has to take responsibility for what they’re about to do, take the blame, it will be Lincoln.
Michael struggles, fights him off, but at the same time, he lies face down on the car and cants his hips up; offers himself to whatever Lincoln wants to do to him.
Saliva is all that Lincoln has to ease his way in and he doesn’t even bother using much of it. It hurts, though not as much as it could because need and urgency are powerful enablers, but that’s okay. It’s not meant to be about pleasure.
Michael rears up beneath him and whispers a breathless “Harder.” Lincoln smiles darkly. He’s always liked it rough and deep, his baby brother - to give as well as to take it rough and deep - so Lincoln obliges him, delivers on what he wants and needs. He snaps his hips fast and brisk and blankets him, buries himself to the hilt into Michael’s heat, and bites the side of his neck.
Lincoln keeps moving in him as long as he stays hard, even after both of them have come; even as Michael begs him to stop, yet does nothing to make him stop, and relaxes in his embrace.
Michael turns his head to the side. All Lincoln can see is his eyes, shiny wet in the dark.
In a few hours, the morning will come back, and with it the sun that will bathe everything in a hot, implacable light. They’re free and they’re alive, and that belongs to the light - but no light shines clear and bright enough to dispel the smudge of darkness within them.
Neither of them cares to dissipate it.
FIN
--Feedback is always welcomed and appreciated :)