Prison Break - Mind’s Eye
Title: Mind’s Eye
Author: clair-de-lune
Pairing: Michael/Sara, fantasy Michael/Sara/Mahone
Categories: Het, slash
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~ 1580
Summary: Michael wouldn’t back off on this. Sara asked; she got her answer. (Post-series, alternate canon.)
Author’s Note: Loosely based on a prompt by zagzagael.
I asked for prompts and zagzagael offered the following: Michael/Alex/Sara. Michael knows he's got limited time left, wants Alex/Sara when he's gone. I can’t write dying Michael, though, and my OT3-self is a brat who doesn’t like Mahone in the first place and won’t write Michael/Sara/Mahone. So, um, I did my best? My less bad? At least, there’s some kind of Michael/Sara/Mahone ;)
Also written for the wild card (fantasies) of my second kink_bigo card.
Many thanks to kisahawklin for the beta.
“Alex.”
Sara blinked and a hint of smile lifted the corner of her mouth.
“You’d like to watch me with Alex?”
“Not for real.”
“I get that. That’s the whole point of fantasies. Still. Alex?”
Michael ensconced himself into the pillows, settled comfortably between Sara’s knees, and nodded. He wouldn’t back off on this. She asked; she got her answer.
She didn’t seem too shocked, to be fair. But then, she had asked. Not if he’d like to watch her with someone else, but with whom. She demanded an answer, and it wasn’t something he could refuse her, not when she was straddling him and taking him deep, smoldering eyes and wild hair, soft breasts tantalizing him and slow roll of her hips driving him insane.
Sara wasn’t very much into fairness in moments like those.
He could picture it; picture them together. At least, Alex would put those smart fingers and tongue of his to good use for once. The bastard had done despicable things - and crazy-stupid-bold ones to make up for those - but Michael could admit, if only to himself, that he had a mind unlike any other. That was a not totally unexpected turn-on. It also gave him the certitude that Sara would be taken care of, mercilessly licked and stroked and fucked until she was panting with pleasure. Alex would understand what she liked, wanted and needed. It was all that mattered; it was another turn-on, Sara’s pleasure. Alex would...
“Close your eyes,” Sara told him.
He complied readily. Beneath his eyelids, Alex’s lean and strong body blanketed Sara’s. Alex wasn’t teasing her: he settled on top of her and started with sure kisses and carefully aimed touches. Michael had a hunch Alex wasn’t the teasing kind. He was the intent, focused, devoted kind, and before Sara knew it, she would be writhing, gasping, moaning and begging for more; messy hair, flushed neck and legs wide open. Michael’s stomach clenched at the mental picture.
“What are you doing while Alex is kissing me?” His eyelids fluttered as instinct pushed him to open his eyes; Sara quickly put her hand over them. “Shh.”
“I’m watching. I’m sitting by the bed and I’m watching you two. You’re beautiful and Alex can’t keep his hands off you.”
She kissed him, deep and wet, her teeth grazing his lower lip and tugging on it. The move brought her closer to him, her breasts pressed into his chest, but her hips lifted so high he almost slid all the way out of her. He thrust up and felt her smile against his mouth. Unlike Alex, she teased.
“Just watching?” she asked dubiously. A sensation of warmth rushed to his cheeks at the implication. “Not stroking yourself? Not wishing you could join us?”
“I... I like to watch.”
‘Sex by proxy, Michael?’ Alex would say with the smugness marred by the softness he sometimes displayed when he talked to Michael. ‘You picture me with your wife, but all three of us know what you actually want, don’t we?’ His hand would close around Michael’s and guide it into his jeans, maybe dig into them too, and...
Sara straightened up, sank down, tightened around him - one way to say ‘don’t give me that crap.’
“I know you do,” she said tenderly.
He thought of all the times she straddled him and he could watch her to his heart’s content, or of those moments when he sat back and just stared as her hand traveled down her stomach and between her thighs. He liked to watch. He liked to watch her.
“But playing is fun too, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Come on, then. Come with us.”
He followed her voice, leaned into her touch, basked in Alex’s warmth, and fell into the bed with them. They didn’t stop what they were doing, only slowed down for a few seconds to acknowledge him. Then Sara was throwing her head back in ecstasy and Alex was smiling with satisfaction, that small enigmatic smile he had when he was pleased with himself. Michael groaned, in his fantasy as well as in reality.
He pressed against their joined bodies and kissed the slope of Sara’s shoulder. He could taste Alex on her skin, salty and a bit tangy. He wanted - needed - more. His mouth slid to Alex’s neck and down his spine. He lingered at the small of Alex's back, where the muscles were tight and bunched as he was thrusting into Sara, slow and easy.
“I’m not the one in the middle, right now, huh?” Sara asked. Her voice was low, her tone amused and complicit.
He squeezed his eyes and shook his head against the pillow. Any other moment, any other person, he would have been embarrassed, both because of the fantasy itself and because his partner knew about it. But this was Sara; Sara who was saying things like ‘Alex feels so good - almost as good as you’ or ‘Show him, show us.’ He rubbed against Alex’s ass, his erection pressing between the hard buttocks. The other man growled and whispered something into Sara’s ear, who threw a challenging glance at Michael. They got along, those two. Or rather, they understood each other; they had an armed peace, a cautious peace, but they understood each other, and each of them knew what they owed the other one.
“Do you want to take him?”
He stilled at the question and at his answer to it.
He did, so much that the need and its intensity choked him. He wanted that part of Alex; he wanted to make him shaky and breathless with want; and to pleasure Sara through him. He wanted the tight warmth of Alex’s body and the twisted pleasure of driving him into Sara. The urge had been there since Sara and he started this little game tonight, lying low and growing. It sprang in full force with Sara’s question and sent a jolt of pleasure to his belly.
He bit his lip and didn’t say anything.
“Do it,” Sara demanded and added, deliberately lewd, “Fuck him. He wants it as much as you do.”
Alex kissed her hard to shut her up, but he didn’t refute her assertion. It wasn’t a surprise to Michael. Of course Alex wanted it. Any manifestation of vulnerability, anything that would help him understand how Michael’s brain ticked was good to take.
Michael looked down and closed his hands around the narrow hips. He had done this before a couple of times - experiment, the right person at the right moment, all that jazz, nothing original. He knew how it felt. He was surprised how easy it was to remember it, summon and feel it, as if something in his brain or in his loins had been waiting for it.
Velvet and gripping warmth and sweat smelling too strong to be Sara’s. He was half kneeling and half sprawling across Alex’s back, searching for Sara’s mouth above the other’s man shoulder and holding onto him for dear life.
Alex said something sharp and witty about Michael fucking the same way he thought and planned, methodical and all-encompassing yet wild and damn crazy. Why wouldn’t he? Michael wondered while delivering a harsh jab. Alex fucked as he thought too, after all, sneaky and looking for the smallest weakness to use it and undo Michael.
Michael didn’t always mind being undone.
He slapped his hips into Alex’s and pushed him deeper into Sara. Matching minds, matching bodies. They groaned in unison, came in unison, were reduced to feeling and not-thinking in unison.
* *
Here and now, Sara leaned down and swallowed his shout of pleasure with delight.
* *
He gently flipped her onto her back as soon as he’d come back to his senses. Still breathless, still vibrating with pleasure, mindful of her. She arched into him, burning hot, supple and feeling almost liquid against him in her eagerness. The last minutes, he guessed, had been satisfying for her, but not quite satisfying enough. He pushed a damp lock of hair plastered to her cheek and kissed her.
“I love you.”
He didn’t say it to her often, it occurred to him. He showed her, but the simple act of saying it? Not often. He slid down her body, pausing only briefly to lick her nipples and her breastbone, kiss the delicate and secretive underside of a breast. Alex wouldn’t have teased, and he wouldn’t either. He would settle between her thighs and give her exactly what she needed - and hopefully a bit more.
Her nails dug into his shoulders - he could see, in his mind’s eye, how her nails had dug into Alex’s and drew blood when she came. Reality hadn’t totally caught up to the fantasy yet and he had to bring her there; was eager to, mouth watering and heart thumping at the idea.
His chin resting on the smooth skin of her inner leg, he looked up and called her name, waited until she opened her eyes and squinted at him impatiently.
“Now,” he said with mischief, “let me return you the question. With whom would you picture me, Tancredi?”
He flicked his tongue at her, tasted her and drank in her flavor as much as in her pleading whimper and desperate roll of hips. She grumbled under her breath, but kept her head high - mostly - grabbed the bars headboard for support and gave him a devious look.
“Tell me what was going on with Sucre behind that sheet.”
-End-
Author: clair-de-lune
Pairing: Michael/Sara, fantasy Michael/Sara/Mahone
Categories: Het, slash
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~ 1580
Summary: Michael wouldn’t back off on this. Sara asked; she got her answer. (Post-series, alternate canon.)
Author’s Note: Loosely based on a prompt by zagzagael.
I asked for prompts and zagzagael offered the following: Michael/Alex/Sara. Michael knows he's got limited time left, wants Alex/Sara when he's gone. I can’t write dying Michael, though, and my OT3-self is a brat who doesn’t like Mahone in the first place and won’t write Michael/Sara/Mahone. So, um, I did my best? My less bad? At least, there’s some kind of Michael/Sara/Mahone ;)
Also written for the wild card (fantasies) of my second kink_bigo card.
Many thanks to kisahawklin for the beta.
“Alex.”
Sara blinked and a hint of smile lifted the corner of her mouth.
“You’d like to watch me with Alex?”
“Not for real.”
“I get that. That’s the whole point of fantasies. Still. Alex?”
Michael ensconced himself into the pillows, settled comfortably between Sara’s knees, and nodded. He wouldn’t back off on this. She asked; she got her answer.
She didn’t seem too shocked, to be fair. But then, she had asked. Not if he’d like to watch her with someone else, but with whom. She demanded an answer, and it wasn’t something he could refuse her, not when she was straddling him and taking him deep, smoldering eyes and wild hair, soft breasts tantalizing him and slow roll of her hips driving him insane.
Sara wasn’t very much into fairness in moments like those.
He could picture it; picture them together. At least, Alex would put those smart fingers and tongue of his to good use for once. The bastard had done despicable things - and crazy-stupid-bold ones to make up for those - but Michael could admit, if only to himself, that he had a mind unlike any other. That was a not totally unexpected turn-on. It also gave him the certitude that Sara would be taken care of, mercilessly licked and stroked and fucked until she was panting with pleasure. Alex would understand what she liked, wanted and needed. It was all that mattered; it was another turn-on, Sara’s pleasure. Alex would...
“Close your eyes,” Sara told him.
He complied readily. Beneath his eyelids, Alex’s lean and strong body blanketed Sara’s. Alex wasn’t teasing her: he settled on top of her and started with sure kisses and carefully aimed touches. Michael had a hunch Alex wasn’t the teasing kind. He was the intent, focused, devoted kind, and before Sara knew it, she would be writhing, gasping, moaning and begging for more; messy hair, flushed neck and legs wide open. Michael’s stomach clenched at the mental picture.
“What are you doing while Alex is kissing me?” His eyelids fluttered as instinct pushed him to open his eyes; Sara quickly put her hand over them. “Shh.”
“I’m watching. I’m sitting by the bed and I’m watching you two. You’re beautiful and Alex can’t keep his hands off you.”
She kissed him, deep and wet, her teeth grazing his lower lip and tugging on it. The move brought her closer to him, her breasts pressed into his chest, but her hips lifted so high he almost slid all the way out of her. He thrust up and felt her smile against his mouth. Unlike Alex, she teased.
“Just watching?” she asked dubiously. A sensation of warmth rushed to his cheeks at the implication. “Not stroking yourself? Not wishing you could join us?”
“I... I like to watch.”
‘Sex by proxy, Michael?’ Alex would say with the smugness marred by the softness he sometimes displayed when he talked to Michael. ‘You picture me with your wife, but all three of us know what you actually want, don’t we?’ His hand would close around Michael’s and guide it into his jeans, maybe dig into them too, and...
Sara straightened up, sank down, tightened around him - one way to say ‘don’t give me that crap.’
“I know you do,” she said tenderly.
He thought of all the times she straddled him and he could watch her to his heart’s content, or of those moments when he sat back and just stared as her hand traveled down her stomach and between her thighs. He liked to watch. He liked to watch her.
“But playing is fun too, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Come on, then. Come with us.”
He followed her voice, leaned into her touch, basked in Alex’s warmth, and fell into the bed with them. They didn’t stop what they were doing, only slowed down for a few seconds to acknowledge him. Then Sara was throwing her head back in ecstasy and Alex was smiling with satisfaction, that small enigmatic smile he had when he was pleased with himself. Michael groaned, in his fantasy as well as in reality.
He pressed against their joined bodies and kissed the slope of Sara’s shoulder. He could taste Alex on her skin, salty and a bit tangy. He wanted - needed - more. His mouth slid to Alex’s neck and down his spine. He lingered at the small of Alex's back, where the muscles were tight and bunched as he was thrusting into Sara, slow and easy.
“I’m not the one in the middle, right now, huh?” Sara asked. Her voice was low, her tone amused and complicit.
He squeezed his eyes and shook his head against the pillow. Any other moment, any other person, he would have been embarrassed, both because of the fantasy itself and because his partner knew about it. But this was Sara; Sara who was saying things like ‘Alex feels so good - almost as good as you’ or ‘Show him, show us.’ He rubbed against Alex’s ass, his erection pressing between the hard buttocks. The other man growled and whispered something into Sara’s ear, who threw a challenging glance at Michael. They got along, those two. Or rather, they understood each other; they had an armed peace, a cautious peace, but they understood each other, and each of them knew what they owed the other one.
“Do you want to take him?”
He stilled at the question and at his answer to it.
He did, so much that the need and its intensity choked him. He wanted that part of Alex; he wanted to make him shaky and breathless with want; and to pleasure Sara through him. He wanted the tight warmth of Alex’s body and the twisted pleasure of driving him into Sara. The urge had been there since Sara and he started this little game tonight, lying low and growing. It sprang in full force with Sara’s question and sent a jolt of pleasure to his belly.
He bit his lip and didn’t say anything.
“Do it,” Sara demanded and added, deliberately lewd, “Fuck him. He wants it as much as you do.”
Alex kissed her hard to shut her up, but he didn’t refute her assertion. It wasn’t a surprise to Michael. Of course Alex wanted it. Any manifestation of vulnerability, anything that would help him understand how Michael’s brain ticked was good to take.
Michael looked down and closed his hands around the narrow hips. He had done this before a couple of times - experiment, the right person at the right moment, all that jazz, nothing original. He knew how it felt. He was surprised how easy it was to remember it, summon and feel it, as if something in his brain or in his loins had been waiting for it.
Velvet and gripping warmth and sweat smelling too strong to be Sara’s. He was half kneeling and half sprawling across Alex’s back, searching for Sara’s mouth above the other’s man shoulder and holding onto him for dear life.
Alex said something sharp and witty about Michael fucking the same way he thought and planned, methodical and all-encompassing yet wild and damn crazy. Why wouldn’t he? Michael wondered while delivering a harsh jab. Alex fucked as he thought too, after all, sneaky and looking for the smallest weakness to use it and undo Michael.
Michael didn’t always mind being undone.
He slapped his hips into Alex’s and pushed him deeper into Sara. Matching minds, matching bodies. They groaned in unison, came in unison, were reduced to feeling and not-thinking in unison.
* *
Here and now, Sara leaned down and swallowed his shout of pleasure with delight.
* *
He gently flipped her onto her back as soon as he’d come back to his senses. Still breathless, still vibrating with pleasure, mindful of her. She arched into him, burning hot, supple and feeling almost liquid against him in her eagerness. The last minutes, he guessed, had been satisfying for her, but not quite satisfying enough. He pushed a damp lock of hair plastered to her cheek and kissed her.
“I love you.”
He didn’t say it to her often, it occurred to him. He showed her, but the simple act of saying it? Not often. He slid down her body, pausing only briefly to lick her nipples and her breastbone, kiss the delicate and secretive underside of a breast. Alex wouldn’t have teased, and he wouldn’t either. He would settle between her thighs and give her exactly what she needed - and hopefully a bit more.
Her nails dug into his shoulders - he could see, in his mind’s eye, how her nails had dug into Alex’s and drew blood when she came. Reality hadn’t totally caught up to the fantasy yet and he had to bring her there; was eager to, mouth watering and heart thumping at the idea.
His chin resting on the smooth skin of her inner leg, he looked up and called her name, waited until she opened her eyes and squinted at him impatiently.
“Now,” he said with mischief, “let me return you the question. With whom would you picture me, Tancredi?”
He flicked his tongue at her, tasted her and drank in her flavor as much as in her pleading whimper and desperate roll of hips. She grumbled under her breath, but kept her head high - mostly - grabbed the bars headboard for support and gave him a devious look.
“Tell me what was going on with Sucre behind that sheet.”
-End-