fic: Pier at Midnight
Title: Pier at Midnight
Fandom: Prison Break
Characters: Michael/Sara
Word Count: a bit under 400
Rating: PG probably, for kissing and groping and mushy stuff.
Warning: Big chunk of text; no paragraph breaks.
Notes: Written for the challenge "There's no place like home" at
pbhiatus_fic.
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.
It’s a windy night, with thunder and lightning in the distance. The spray from the waves hits their faces and feels like rain, but it isn’t raining yet. They’re waiting for it, standing on the wooden planks in shorts and bare feet, holding their sandals in their hands. They have no raincoat, no umbrella, and even with the cool Michigan water in the air they feel warm and sweaty from racing down the pier. It’s humid and when they breathe in they can feel the individual droplets of the water on their tongues. They’re breathless, and laughing, and holding hands or touching faces or brushing arms. They’re trying to keep quiet so the security guards don’t come down with their flashlights and tell them to leave since they’re not supposed to be there. They listen to the thunder trying to sneak up behind them, and catch the flashes of lightning in each other’s eyes. He kisses her, quickly, when it’s dark and the rain starts to fall. Soon they’re both drenched and laughing harder because it’s a downpour and they can barely hear over the rain drops hitting the planks and the waves hitting the beach and the pillars of the pier below. They press together and mouth words against each other’s lips and skin, and lap up rain water and lake water and the faint lingering salt from their sweat. Her hair is a waterfall, and he brushes his hand under it, letting streams of water and hair rush through his fingers. She traces the patterns on his arms with her fingertips, moving the stream of rain water in her wake. A particularly loud crash of thunder makes them jump, and they grasp onto each other with their free hands. They laugh again, and then hug tightly, and she lays her head against his chest where she can hear his heart beating. He strokes his fingers down her back and she shivers, but not because she’s wet or cold. She tips her head back and they kiss again. They let their lips linger and she closes her eyes against the rush of rain down her upturned face, but she can still see him there, behind her eyelids. They pull away slowly, smiling, then race back down the pier.
Fandom: Prison Break
Characters: Michael/Sara
Word Count: a bit under 400
Rating: PG probably, for kissing and groping and mushy stuff.
Warning: Big chunk of text; no paragraph breaks.
Notes: Written for the challenge "There's no place like home" at
pbhiatus_fic.
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.
It’s a windy night, with thunder and lightning in the distance. The spray from the waves hits their faces and feels like rain, but it isn’t raining yet. They’re waiting for it, standing on the wooden planks in shorts and bare feet, holding their sandals in their hands. They have no raincoat, no umbrella, and even with the cool Michigan water in the air they feel warm and sweaty from racing down the pier. It’s humid and when they breathe in they can feel the individual droplets of the water on their tongues. They’re breathless, and laughing, and holding hands or touching faces or brushing arms. They’re trying to keep quiet so the security guards don’t come down with their flashlights and tell them to leave since they’re not supposed to be there. They listen to the thunder trying to sneak up behind them, and catch the flashes of lightning in each other’s eyes. He kisses her, quickly, when it’s dark and the rain starts to fall. Soon they’re both drenched and laughing harder because it’s a downpour and they can barely hear over the rain drops hitting the planks and the waves hitting the beach and the pillars of the pier below. They press together and mouth words against each other’s lips and skin, and lap up rain water and lake water and the faint lingering salt from their sweat. Her hair is a waterfall, and he brushes his hand under it, letting streams of water and hair rush through his fingers. She traces the patterns on his arms with her fingertips, moving the stream of rain water in her wake. A particularly loud crash of thunder makes them jump, and they grasp onto each other with their free hands. They laugh again, and then hug tightly, and she lays her head against his chest where she can hear his heart beating. He strokes his fingers down her back and she shivers, but not because she’s wet or cold. She tips her head back and they kiss again. They let their lips linger and she closes her eyes against the rush of rain down her upturned face, but she can still see him there, behind her eyelids. They pull away slowly, smiling, then race back down the pier.