You Know What They Say About Warm Hands PG Prison Break T-Bag/Abruzzi sort of slash
Kind of a teaser. T-Bag wants to make it up with Abruzzi.
You Know What They Say About Warm Hands
"We can be friends. John," T-Bag added his name softly.
It had been a while since he had tried this on a man like Abruzzi. The technique was a little different. Giving his usual procedure a little twist, and there you go, a whole new thing. It was sort of thrilling - the sword hanging down over his head dripping aphrodisiac off the tip.
"John." Such a simple name, but you say it just right, and it holds a world of possibilities, like a dark room and a locked door.
"You can save me. Show me how to find the light that you found." T-Bag turned his face up to Abruzzi, his eyes hard with determined sincerity.
"You have to see what I've seen," Abruzzi told him. He pointed up and behind T-bag. T-Bag didn't dare turn and let him out of his sight. Why was it that every word coming from a man whose throat you sliced sounded so sinister?
"I am repentant. A moment of panic and the Devil got in me," T-Bag explained. There had been a slip. A mistake was made.
"You welcome the Devil," Abruzzi reminded him.
"No. No. He overtook me in my weakness. But I prayed, John. I prayed that my moment of panic could be reversed. That I could atone. I prayed for you." The earnest, striving words slid out as if greased. T-Bag inched closer to his John. The danger of proximity was putting real passion in his voice. Real passion. Don't Abruzzi heave real pretty eyes.
"John. I prayed and you recovered. And you gave me your hand. I don't doubt you. I don't doubt His power. Not no more."
He was right in the danger zone now, right under the big knife. T-Bag spread his arms. Hadn't there been an embrace? It ended badly, but it held such possibilities. Why is it that you couldn't kill me, John?
"Show me what to do," T-Bag demanded now that he couldn't get any closer to the man. T-Bag's hands clutched at his clothes. His fingers crept around but found nothing sharp yet.
"You know what to do," Abruzzi told him, his words thick and hard. He put a heavy hand on T-Bag's shoulder.
"Pray."
T-Bag kneeled - Abruzzi's hand insisted on it.
The End
You Know What They Say About Warm Hands
"We can be friends. John," T-Bag added his name softly.
It had been a while since he had tried this on a man like Abruzzi. The technique was a little different. Giving his usual procedure a little twist, and there you go, a whole new thing. It was sort of thrilling - the sword hanging down over his head dripping aphrodisiac off the tip.
"John." Such a simple name, but you say it just right, and it holds a world of possibilities, like a dark room and a locked door.
"You can save me. Show me how to find the light that you found." T-Bag turned his face up to Abruzzi, his eyes hard with determined sincerity.
"You have to see what I've seen," Abruzzi told him. He pointed up and behind T-bag. T-Bag didn't dare turn and let him out of his sight. Why was it that every word coming from a man whose throat you sliced sounded so sinister?
"I am repentant. A moment of panic and the Devil got in me," T-Bag explained. There had been a slip. A mistake was made.
"You welcome the Devil," Abruzzi reminded him.
"No. No. He overtook me in my weakness. But I prayed, John. I prayed that my moment of panic could be reversed. That I could atone. I prayed for you." The earnest, striving words slid out as if greased. T-Bag inched closer to his John. The danger of proximity was putting real passion in his voice. Real passion. Don't Abruzzi heave real pretty eyes.
"John. I prayed and you recovered. And you gave me your hand. I don't doubt you. I don't doubt His power. Not no more."
He was right in the danger zone now, right under the big knife. T-Bag spread his arms. Hadn't there been an embrace? It ended badly, but it held such possibilities. Why is it that you couldn't kill me, John?
"Show me what to do," T-Bag demanded now that he couldn't get any closer to the man. T-Bag's hands clutched at his clothes. His fingers crept around but found nothing sharp yet.
"You know what to do," Abruzzi told him, his words thick and hard. He put a heavy hand on T-Bag's shoulder.
"Pray."
T-Bag kneeled - Abruzzi's hand insisted on it.
The End