Rescue and Revelations: Chapter 2, Turning the Tables
Author: HalfshellVenus
Category: Lincoln/Michael Incest/slash, very Alternate Universe. Mostly PWP.
Rating: R (for subject matter)
Summary: Lincoln doesn’t like not knowing what’s going on.
x-x-x-x-x Chapter 2: Turning the Tables x-x-x-x-x
Michael found Lincoln the next day during P.I., painting in the hallway.
“Feel better today?” he asked. The corners of his mouth quirked up, and his smile was not entirely innocent.
“Ye-es…” Lincoln said uncertainly. The look Michael was giving him made him uneasy.
He stepped closer, unwilling to be intimidated. “Michael,” he said. “Are you fucking with my head?”
He leaned around to look closer when Michael didn’t respond to that. “Michael!” he said again.
Michael had a dreamy look in his eyes, which disappeared as he jerked himself back to the present. “I’m sorry-my mind went someplace else when you said that.”
Lincoln frowned a little. “I’ll just bet,” he said.
Michael laughed a little. ‘You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“You don’t seem to have a problem with it,” Lincoln said. He wasn’t sure why, but it was true.
“Are you kidding?” Michael said. “I’ve been waiting my whole life to get a piece of you. Just too many other people standing in line.”
Lincoln just stared. Was he missing something here? Michael was either getting an enormous charge out of messing with him, or… he was serious.
Which was it?
Michael leaned into him, putting an arm around his waist. “I’m not sure why you’ve been so neglected in here-maybe the other prisoners are blind. But it doesn’t have to be that way.”
Lincoln was getting a little annoyed at being toyed with. Or teased. Or propositioned. Whatever the hell was going on here.
Fine, he thought. Two can play at that game.
He looked around for the guard, and then guided Michael around the corner.
“So you’re going to make it your personal mission to take care of me?” Lincoln asked. He stroked his hands up Michael’s sides.
Michael just looked at him for a second, eyes huge and dark. Then he launched himself at Lincoln, covering his mouth with hot kisses.
“Mmmph!” Lincoln found himself up against the wall with Michael writhing against him, and wondered just exactly what he had started. When Michael started to grind against his hips and lick the inside of his mouth, he stopped thinking altogether.
There was definitely no question of whether Michael wanted this. He clearly did. A lot.
Lincoln gave himself over to Michael’s kisses. God, this felt good. Not just having a warm, real body rubbing up against him, or the fact that Michael was an incredible kisser. Although, damn.
No, this had more to do with being desired by someone else. It had been a long time since Lincoln remembered that feeling. And god, life in prison was so lonely. Lonely both mentally and physically.
Lincoln growled deep in his throat, and his hands slid down and grabbed Michael’s ass. It was so muscular and tight and delicious.
He almost choked at that thought. He had never had thoughts like those until after the first six months in prison, and then only a few times-when he started to think about what he could choose rather than have taken from him. He wasn’t an easy guy to overpower, but with enough prisoners ganging up on him it had happened a couple of times. It was easier when it was mutual, when you could select your own partner.
Before he was confined to The Row, Lincoln’s short stint in GenPop had made him aware of what it is to be surrounded only by men, and to become so desperate over time that you started to separate the men into fuckable or not, into parts that were hot or not. Pretty soon, even he could spot a set of abs worth looking at, or a nice pair of shoulders, or most of all, a really nice ass.
There was no doubt about it-Michael had a world-class ass. And he was wrapped around Lincoln right now, kissing the life out of him and just waiting to worship him if only Lincoln would let him.
He knew he shouldn’t. But he loved Michael far too much. In those final years at home, he had denied Michael too much of his attention, preoccupied with other problems like a pregnant girlfriend and a growing drug habit.
He owed Michael the chance to be loved intimately, truly loved down to the center of his being. It wouldn’t make sense to anyone else, he knew, and the thought had shocked him the first time Michael had shown interest in it. But now he understood. They hadn’t had a normal life, and they weren’t about to start now. Rules be damned.
He held Michael tighter, and kissed him in passionate bursts as Michael began to shake. “I hate” kiss “being stuck here” kiss “in public all the time.” lick “I could” kiss “fuck you through the floor” kiss “right now.”
Michael whimpered against his mouth when he said that, and gasped in unexpected climax.
Damn, that was easy, Lincoln thought. But in a way, that part was kind of nice. He kissed Michael tenderly and rubbed his back, pulling Michael’s head down against his shoulder and letting him catch his breath. He held him quietly, just reveling in the simple pleasure of that embrace.
In a moment, Michael lifted his head up and gazed at Lincoln seriously. Lincoln smiled softly, and Michael’s eyes seemed to catch fire.
He unzipped Lincoln’s worksuit swiftly, and had his mouth wrapped around him before Lincoln realized what was happening. Michael’s hands came around to hold Lincoln’s hips and ass, clinging onto him like a drowning man as he tongued and sucked him desperately. Lincoln came suddenly, in a harsh moment of overwhelming sensation, and bent over Michael, stroking his head and trying not to fall over.
Michael pressed his face against Lincoln’s hip, inhaling the heat and the scent of arousal, then rose up and zipped Lincoln back together.
He laid his head on Lincoln’s chest for a moment, eyes closed and mouth curved in a blissful smile that took hold in Lincoln’s heart. God, I just love him, Lincoln thought. He leaned his head against Michael’s and rocked him a little, until Michael stood up again.
“Better get back,” Michael said, and Lincoln nodded regretfully. Michael gave him one last gentle kiss, then pushed a paint rag through a front belt loop and stepped around the corner.
Lincoln took a deep breath, looking around for inspiration.
There was a ladder. He took it, and maneuvered it carefully out into the main hall, making his face as bland as possible even as he felt the flush in his cheeks and the tingling that remained in his lips and groin.
He didn’t dare look at Michael. But he could feel him, even from across the hall, and the air between them felt charged with electrical pulses.
They were bound together now, more than ever before, and he felt a kind of apprehension at the thought of losing that.
The taste and smell of Michael lingered on Lincoln’s senses, a reminder of his presence and devotion.
He was an inescapable part of who Lincoln was.
He was imprinted now on Lincoln’s soul.
----- fin -----
Category: Lincoln/Michael Incest/slash, very Alternate Universe. Mostly PWP.
Rating: R (for subject matter)
Summary: Lincoln doesn’t like not knowing what’s going on.
x-x-x-x-x Chapter 2: Turning the Tables x-x-x-x-x
Michael found Lincoln the next day during P.I., painting in the hallway.
“Feel better today?” he asked. The corners of his mouth quirked up, and his smile was not entirely innocent.
“Ye-es…” Lincoln said uncertainly. The look Michael was giving him made him uneasy.
He stepped closer, unwilling to be intimidated. “Michael,” he said. “Are you fucking with my head?”
He leaned around to look closer when Michael didn’t respond to that. “Michael!” he said again.
Michael had a dreamy look in his eyes, which disappeared as he jerked himself back to the present. “I’m sorry-my mind went someplace else when you said that.”
Lincoln frowned a little. “I’ll just bet,” he said.
Michael laughed a little. ‘You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“You don’t seem to have a problem with it,” Lincoln said. He wasn’t sure why, but it was true.
“Are you kidding?” Michael said. “I’ve been waiting my whole life to get a piece of you. Just too many other people standing in line.”
Lincoln just stared. Was he missing something here? Michael was either getting an enormous charge out of messing with him, or… he was serious.
Which was it?
Michael leaned into him, putting an arm around his waist. “I’m not sure why you’ve been so neglected in here-maybe the other prisoners are blind. But it doesn’t have to be that way.”
Lincoln was getting a little annoyed at being toyed with. Or teased. Or propositioned. Whatever the hell was going on here.
Fine, he thought. Two can play at that game.
He looked around for the guard, and then guided Michael around the corner.
“So you’re going to make it your personal mission to take care of me?” Lincoln asked. He stroked his hands up Michael’s sides.
Michael just looked at him for a second, eyes huge and dark. Then he launched himself at Lincoln, covering his mouth with hot kisses.
“Mmmph!” Lincoln found himself up against the wall with Michael writhing against him, and wondered just exactly what he had started. When Michael started to grind against his hips and lick the inside of his mouth, he stopped thinking altogether.
There was definitely no question of whether Michael wanted this. He clearly did. A lot.
Lincoln gave himself over to Michael’s kisses. God, this felt good. Not just having a warm, real body rubbing up against him, or the fact that Michael was an incredible kisser. Although, damn.
No, this had more to do with being desired by someone else. It had been a long time since Lincoln remembered that feeling. And god, life in prison was so lonely. Lonely both mentally and physically.
Lincoln growled deep in his throat, and his hands slid down and grabbed Michael’s ass. It was so muscular and tight and delicious.
He almost choked at that thought. He had never had thoughts like those until after the first six months in prison, and then only a few times-when he started to think about what he could choose rather than have taken from him. He wasn’t an easy guy to overpower, but with enough prisoners ganging up on him it had happened a couple of times. It was easier when it was mutual, when you could select your own partner.
Before he was confined to The Row, Lincoln’s short stint in GenPop had made him aware of what it is to be surrounded only by men, and to become so desperate over time that you started to separate the men into fuckable or not, into parts that were hot or not. Pretty soon, even he could spot a set of abs worth looking at, or a nice pair of shoulders, or most of all, a really nice ass.
There was no doubt about it-Michael had a world-class ass. And he was wrapped around Lincoln right now, kissing the life out of him and just waiting to worship him if only Lincoln would let him.
He knew he shouldn’t. But he loved Michael far too much. In those final years at home, he had denied Michael too much of his attention, preoccupied with other problems like a pregnant girlfriend and a growing drug habit.
He owed Michael the chance to be loved intimately, truly loved down to the center of his being. It wouldn’t make sense to anyone else, he knew, and the thought had shocked him the first time Michael had shown interest in it. But now he understood. They hadn’t had a normal life, and they weren’t about to start now. Rules be damned.
He held Michael tighter, and kissed him in passionate bursts as Michael began to shake. “I hate” kiss “being stuck here” kiss “in public all the time.” lick “I could” kiss “fuck you through the floor” kiss “right now.”
Michael whimpered against his mouth when he said that, and gasped in unexpected climax.
Damn, that was easy, Lincoln thought. But in a way, that part was kind of nice. He kissed Michael tenderly and rubbed his back, pulling Michael’s head down against his shoulder and letting him catch his breath. He held him quietly, just reveling in the simple pleasure of that embrace.
In a moment, Michael lifted his head up and gazed at Lincoln seriously. Lincoln smiled softly, and Michael’s eyes seemed to catch fire.
He unzipped Lincoln’s worksuit swiftly, and had his mouth wrapped around him before Lincoln realized what was happening. Michael’s hands came around to hold Lincoln’s hips and ass, clinging onto him like a drowning man as he tongued and sucked him desperately. Lincoln came suddenly, in a harsh moment of overwhelming sensation, and bent over Michael, stroking his head and trying not to fall over.
Michael pressed his face against Lincoln’s hip, inhaling the heat and the scent of arousal, then rose up and zipped Lincoln back together.
He laid his head on Lincoln’s chest for a moment, eyes closed and mouth curved in a blissful smile that took hold in Lincoln’s heart. God, I just love him, Lincoln thought. He leaned his head against Michael’s and rocked him a little, until Michael stood up again.
“Better get back,” Michael said, and Lincoln nodded regretfully. Michael gave him one last gentle kiss, then pushed a paint rag through a front belt loop and stepped around the corner.
Lincoln took a deep breath, looking around for inspiration.
There was a ladder. He took it, and maneuvered it carefully out into the main hall, making his face as bland as possible even as he felt the flush in his cheeks and the tingling that remained in his lips and groin.
He didn’t dare look at Michael. But he could feel him, even from across the hall, and the air between them felt charged with electrical pulses.
They were bound together now, more than ever before, and he felt a kind of apprehension at the thought of losing that.
The taste and smell of Michael lingered on Lincoln’s senses, a reminder of his presence and devotion.
He was an inescapable part of who Lincoln was.
He was imprinted now on Lincoln’s soul.
----- fin -----