Drabble: In the Cards
Title: In the Cards
Author: interpretthis
Fandom: Prison Break
Pairing: Michael/Sucre
Rating: Mature
Genre: Slash
Requested by: bm_shipper
Notes: *hugs* for beings so fabulously patient with me.
The thin, flimsy mattress sank under their weight, leaving the cards nearest the middle to slip across the bedding and into the low dip. They didn’t much care - the floor was too cold a surface and the only one available in the tiny cell. And it wasn’t as if they were focused much on the game to begin with.
Sucre’s lips curled up into a feline grin as he pulled his conquered pair of cards to his mounting pile.
“Better luck next time fish.”
Michael’s own smile, quiet and enigmatic, shivered across his lips.
“Who needs luck when you’ve got war?”
Their shiny black aces met at the corners as Michael leaned across the growing mattress-abyss to meet Sucre’s lips in a fierce kiss. His cellie’s heat was welcome in the chill room, and there was no doubt his company was infinitely better than that of…well, just about anyone else in the place.
Michael groaned and leaned further into him, shifting position and slipping on a wayward pile of cards. Sucre stifled a laugh as Michael fell against him, his lips a scorching, becoming red.
“Guess the game’s over then.”
“On the contrary.” Michael’s eyes jumped feverishly with his low voice. “There’s always Slap…Jack. Or…” he ran a cool hand along the band of Sucre’s pants. “Go Fish?”
Sucre gave a soft, rather maniacally delighted laugh.
“You know what they say Papi…”
Michael grinned, closing in.
“What’s that?”
“Make love…”
Michael snorted softly and mouthed the last bit against Sucre’s lips.
“Not war.”