Prison Break - All due Thanks
Title: All due Thanks
Author: clair-de-lune
Fandom: Prison Break
Characters: Michael/Sara/Lincoln
Categories: Het, mild slash
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~ 740
Disclaimer: Not mine. Just borrowing them for a while.
Summary/ Prompt by yoruichiyoshi12 in comment_fic: The brothers’ way of saying thank you, Michael/Lincoln/Sucre or Michael/Lincoln/Sara. This one is for Michael/Lincoln/Sara. (Post-series, non-epilogue compliant.)
Author’s Note: The Michael/Lincoln aspect is relatively tame but please proceed with caution if the pairing bothers you.
Many thanks to foxriverinmate for the beta.
They never did say ‘thank you’ for the infirmary door or Kim or dozens of small and not so small things. After, though, when everything is over, they do express their appreciation in an interesting manner.
Lincoln reaching over her shoulder to pull Michael in for a positively not-brotherly kiss makes her blink, but it’s too fast and shocking for Sara to assimilate what the brothers just did. She’s trapped between them, squeezed in the nicest way, the heat of their bodies adding to the warm air of the late afternoon. Because of the overwhelming closeness, her mind has been spinning for a while; the unexpected kiss is the last straw. She leans against Michael’s chest, lets her head loll back on his shoulder and stops thinking altogether.
With Michael’s hand on his neck, and his obvious blessing, Lincoln kisses a silent and thorough line of ‘thank you’ from the hollow of her throat to the curve of her inner thighs. Her thin green dress is hardly a hindrance, buttons popping open under his mouth and fingers, and not a curve or a swell is left out of his attentions. His stubble leaves, between her breasts and on her belly, a tingling that holds promises of too many memories; she can’t bring herself to care. Michael is whispering it in her ear anyway - “Let it happen, let us take care of you” - while her shoulders, neck and lips are offered to his ministrations. By the time Lincoln is kneeling at her feet and Michael is stroking every part of her that he can reach, she feels as though her whole body is aflame, and yearning is threatening to consume her. She’s in no mood to contradict them. It’s not as if they hadn’t anything to thank her for, right?
From this standpoint, Michael’s hand stealing from his brother’s neck to her groin is one way to say thanks. As are his fingers fondling her and opening her for Lincoln, his kisses becoming deeper and hotter or his other hand wandering over her and feeding the tiny fires burning beneath her skin. Her knees buckle, but the two men catch her and hold her between them without giving her a second to gather her thoughts. They’re merciless in their drive to pleasure her, even with each other. Lincoln’s tongue fights his brother’s hand out of its way, wanting more of her, more slick flesh to explore and arouse. The flurry of movements, the silk of Lincoln’s tongue sliding between Michael’s fingers make her feel as if her skin is suddenly too tight to contain her. She’s almost thrown over the edge and tipping; they quit the so-called struggle as her breath gets caught in her throat. Bastards.
Michael moves his hand up, whispers to Lincoln to push his tongue into her now, and brushes a finger on her clit. Just one finger, a too light touch. Panting, she begs for a kiss and a less featherlike caress. She should remember to never let him know what drives her wild as he won’t have any qualm to enforce it upon her - granted... to her utmost pleasure.
She swears and flails when Michael circles his finger in synchronization with Lincoln’s licking; whimpers fall from her lips at an increasing pace. Lincoln looks up from his kneeling position, an affectionate smirk curving his mouth.
“We just wanna say thanks, Sara,” he says, as falsely dead-serious as one can be.
She throws him a nasty glance, shoves his head back between her legs, and latches onto Michael’s mouth. Their hands reach for her breasts; interestingly enough, while Lincoln strokes gently, Michael pinches her nipple with a roughness that has her twist in earnest between the two of them. It’s an inconsistency she’ll address later. For now, she’s too busy enjoying the bothers’ way of saying thank you. She comes rubbing down onto Lincoln’s face, her moans swallowed by Michael’s mouth, all shreds of decency long forgotten. She shivers as they tenderly kiss and pet her. Even after her breathing has started to slow down and her body has stopped arching into their touch, remnants of the blaze they’ve ignited are still glowing.
She’s hardly surprised when Michael tears himself from her mouth to take Lincoln’s and savor her taste on his brother’s lips.
Nor when they strip her of what’s left of her dress, lay her down on the couch and explain to her they have many, many other things to thank her for.
-End-
--Comments are always welcome.
Author: clair-de-lune
Fandom: Prison Break
Characters: Michael/Sara/Lincoln
Categories: Het, mild slash
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~ 740
Disclaimer: Not mine. Just borrowing them for a while.
Summary/ Prompt by yoruichiyoshi12 in comment_fic: The brothers’ way of saying thank you, Michael/Lincoln/Sucre or Michael/Lincoln/Sara. This one is for Michael/Lincoln/Sara. (Post-series, non-epilogue compliant.)
Author’s Note: The Michael/Lincoln aspect is relatively tame but please proceed with caution if the pairing bothers you.
Many thanks to foxriverinmate for the beta.
They never did say ‘thank you’ for the infirmary door or Kim or dozens of small and not so small things. After, though, when everything is over, they do express their appreciation in an interesting manner.
Lincoln reaching over her shoulder to pull Michael in for a positively not-brotherly kiss makes her blink, but it’s too fast and shocking for Sara to assimilate what the brothers just did. She’s trapped between them, squeezed in the nicest way, the heat of their bodies adding to the warm air of the late afternoon. Because of the overwhelming closeness, her mind has been spinning for a while; the unexpected kiss is the last straw. She leans against Michael’s chest, lets her head loll back on his shoulder and stops thinking altogether.
With Michael’s hand on his neck, and his obvious blessing, Lincoln kisses a silent and thorough line of ‘thank you’ from the hollow of her throat to the curve of her inner thighs. Her thin green dress is hardly a hindrance, buttons popping open under his mouth and fingers, and not a curve or a swell is left out of his attentions. His stubble leaves, between her breasts and on her belly, a tingling that holds promises of too many memories; she can’t bring herself to care. Michael is whispering it in her ear anyway - “Let it happen, let us take care of you” - while her shoulders, neck and lips are offered to his ministrations. By the time Lincoln is kneeling at her feet and Michael is stroking every part of her that he can reach, she feels as though her whole body is aflame, and yearning is threatening to consume her. She’s in no mood to contradict them. It’s not as if they hadn’t anything to thank her for, right?
From this standpoint, Michael’s hand stealing from his brother’s neck to her groin is one way to say thanks. As are his fingers fondling her and opening her for Lincoln, his kisses becoming deeper and hotter or his other hand wandering over her and feeding the tiny fires burning beneath her skin. Her knees buckle, but the two men catch her and hold her between them without giving her a second to gather her thoughts. They’re merciless in their drive to pleasure her, even with each other. Lincoln’s tongue fights his brother’s hand out of its way, wanting more of her, more slick flesh to explore and arouse. The flurry of movements, the silk of Lincoln’s tongue sliding between Michael’s fingers make her feel as if her skin is suddenly too tight to contain her. She’s almost thrown over the edge and tipping; they quit the so-called struggle as her breath gets caught in her throat. Bastards.
Michael moves his hand up, whispers to Lincoln to push his tongue into her now, and brushes a finger on her clit. Just one finger, a too light touch. Panting, she begs for a kiss and a less featherlike caress. She should remember to never let him know what drives her wild as he won’t have any qualm to enforce it upon her - granted... to her utmost pleasure.
She swears and flails when Michael circles his finger in synchronization with Lincoln’s licking; whimpers fall from her lips at an increasing pace. Lincoln looks up from his kneeling position, an affectionate smirk curving his mouth.
“We just wanna say thanks, Sara,” he says, as falsely dead-serious as one can be.
She throws him a nasty glance, shoves his head back between her legs, and latches onto Michael’s mouth. Their hands reach for her breasts; interestingly enough, while Lincoln strokes gently, Michael pinches her nipple with a roughness that has her twist in earnest between the two of them. It’s an inconsistency she’ll address later. For now, she’s too busy enjoying the bothers’ way of saying thank you. She comes rubbing down onto Lincoln’s face, her moans swallowed by Michael’s mouth, all shreds of decency long forgotten. She shivers as they tenderly kiss and pet her. Even after her breathing has started to slow down and her body has stopped arching into their touch, remnants of the blaze they’ve ignited are still glowing.
She’s hardly surprised when Michael tears himself from her mouth to take Lincoln’s and savor her taste on his brother’s lips.
Nor when they strip her of what’s left of her dress, lay her down on the couch and explain to her they have many, many other things to thank her for.
-End-
--Comments are always welcome.