A Life Half Lived 10-11/?
Title: A Life Half Lived 10+11
Authors: bwitched83uk and jeyhawk
Series: Yes!
Rating: Overall NC17
Pairing: Michael/Lincoln
Genre: Angst, Romance, Erotica, AU, Slash.
Summary: A life lived in fear, is a life half lived.
Disclaimer: We do not own the characters of Michael Scofield, or Lincoln Burrows, nor are we any way associated with the series Prison Break, or Fox. This is a fictional story using someone else’s characters. Not true.
Feedback: Don’t make us beg.
Beta: clex_monkie89
Warnings: AU, Slash, Sexual Situations
Note: Just realized I was a little behind on the posting, or rather a lot. I suppose that is what you get for not being online very much.
Chapter 10
In the days after their ‘date’ that had stretched out over two days, Michael felt giddy and antsy in turns. He trusted Lincoln a whole lot more now and he knew that Lincoln wouldn’t push him into something he didn’t want to do, at least he wouldn’t do more than nudge him gently. Thinking of Lincoln made him feel all giddy and seeing him made wild butterflies dance around inside his stomach, something he didn’t much like but was unable to stop. He’d let himself fall for Lincoln and now he had to live with the fallout. He hadn’t seen Lincoln since he kissed him goodbye on Sunday afternoon and even though he was loath to admit it, Michael did miss him. He’d gotten so used to having Lincoln randomly showing up that not seeing him felt strange.
Michael wondered if he should be worried that Lincoln hadn’t made any contact for a couple of days, it was Wednesday now and he hadn’t seen or heard from him since Sunday. He really should be focusing on the work he’d brought home with him, but his brain kept pulling up the Lincoln files, making it impossible to focus on the task at hand. With a sigh he closed the folder he’d been reviewing and rubbed his hand over his eyes. He needed to focus on something else for a while.
He felt a brief moment of sadness wash over him that he didn’t have anyone in his life that he could call up and invite over, or go see a movie with. He didn’t have any family, and he didn’t really have any friends, none that he socialised with outside of work at least.
He could call Lincoln he supposed, but Lincoln was probably busy, that was why he hadn’t called. He would probably be down at the site now, as it was late afternoon, most likely finishing up for the day. If Michael were to go down to the site to… pick up his mug which he had left there, then it wouldn’t be like he was following Lincoln around, it was just that he really needed that mug.
He looked over at the couch and saw Jock McBear sitting there looking back at him. "I’m pathetic, aren’t I?"
The bear just looked back at him, his sewn on smile agreeing with Michael. "Damn," Michael muttered. "But just so you know, I really do like that mug." The bear just kept smiling that unnerving smile as Michael got up from the chair.
"I just want to see him that’s all," he said to the bear. "I don’t even have to talk to him. It’s just… We never did say anything about Friday… We should make plans, you know. Unless…" Michael’s face fell a little. "Unless he already has plans that don’t include me."
Michael paced back and forth nervously, debating with himself whether he really should go down to the site or not. Not going down certainly had its merits, as in he would not make a fool out of himself, but going down had its own rewards, such as seeing Lincoln.
"I’m going," he suddenly said to the bear having made up his mind. "The walk will do me good, straighten out my mind." He snickered a little. "Straighten…" When he glanced over at the bear it looked like it was embarrassed to know him.
~~~~~~~~~
By the time Michael arrived at the site they were packing up for the evening, just like he assumed they would be. He looked around but couldn’t see Lincoln, which was strange, seeing as he was the foreman and wasn’t supposed to leave early.
He walked slowly through the site, looking around in what he hoped was a casual manner. He nodded to a few of the workers who he had spoken to once or twice before and made his way over to the cabin. Perhaps Lincoln was in there which would be perfect as he could just walk right over to his mug and say hello to Lincoln as he was collecting it.
He stopped outside the door to the cabin when he heard laughing coming from inside. Pushing the door open slowly, Michael looked in and saw Lincoln perching on the desk talking closely with some man he didn’t recognise and laughing together.
At the sound of the door opening Lincoln turned to look and saw Michael standing there. "Hey boss," he said with a secretive smile.
"Um…Hi," Michael said, hesitantly stepping in to the cabin.
Suddenly he felt like a complete fool, getting his mug in front of Lincoln would have been fine, but doing it in front a stranger was an entirely different thing and what was Lincoln doing talking to that man anyway? Michael had never been jealous before and he discovered it felt suspiciously like having heartburn.
"Hi," the other man said. "I don’t believe we’ve met before. I’m Chuck, Lincoln’s right hand man."
Michael shook the offered hand trying hard not to think about its dirtiness. "I’m Michael…Scofield and I… um… designed the place."
Right hand man? What was that supposed to mean? Michael frowned slightly scanning the cluttered room for his precious mug.
"So we’re heading out for a couple of beers after work? Wanna tag along?" Chuck asked and Michael twitched slightly. It stung that Chuck was the one to offer and not Lincoln, maybe Lincoln didn’t want him to come.
Michael’s eyes locked with Lincoln’s for a moment and he saw nothing to suggest that Lincoln didn’t want him tagging along.
"Sure," he said, moving further into the trailer. "I just have to get my mug first." He tried not to let his inward cringe spread to the surface at his words.
Lincoln smirked a little and turned his face away from Michael. He hadn’t expected Michael to agree to go with them to a bar, what with his phobia of people, noise and unwashed floors.
He watched as Michael looked around for his mug and looked down at the one in his hand. It was black and it had ‘architecture is art you can walk through’ written on it in white italic font.
"Is this yours?" he asked, holding out the mug. Michael looked at it and felt himself get warmer. Lincoln was drinking out of his mug, Lincoln had subconsciously chosen Michael’s mug out of all the other mugs to drink from because his brain had probably unconsciously remembered seeing Michael drink from it some time.
"Sorry," Lincoln said walking over to the small sink and dumping out the rest of his coffee. "It was the only one that was clean."
"Oh," Michael said, feeling hurt with no real reason.
He watched as Lincoln washed the mug and dried it, accepting it when Lincoln handed it over. Somehow he didn’t really want it anymore; it was just a stupid mug. "Thanks," he murmured, staring at the floor.
Chuck stretched with a yawn. "I’m just gonna go make sure Eric followed my instructions regarding the wood, then I’m ready to head out."
"Sure," Lincoln said. "We’ll wait here."
Michael followed Chuck with his eyes as he walked out, somewhere his brain registered the fact that he looked good, slimmer build than Lincoln, but the same swagger in his step. He filed the information away in the useless folder, he didn’t care if Chuck looked good or not, the only important thing was whether Lincoln thought so or not.
"So are you bringing your mug to the bar?" Lincoln asked, when the door banged shut behind Chuck.
Michael looked at the cup in his hands, shrugging slightly. "I might just head home."
Lincoln looked at him hard and nodded. "All right, I mean, it’s probably not your thing anyway."
Michael’s head shot up and he looked at Lincoln as if he couldn’t quite believe he had said that.
"I uh, I kind of thought that I would see you down here on Monday," Lincoln said quietly as he moved a little closer to Michael. "But I guess you’ve been busy at the office, huh?"
Michael wasn’t quite sure what to say to that so he just shrugged again. "I guess you’ve been busy too."
Lincoln frowned and wracked his brain trying to figure out what was wrong with Michael when he was the one who had stayed away. "Look," he finally said. "Why don’t you come to the bar for a drink and then if the football talk gets too much for you we can go somewhere else."
Michael gave him a long look. "Okay," he said with a slight smile.
Lincoln wanted to kiss him, but he wasn’t sure how much time they had before Chuck came back and it might just make Michael uncomfortable. Prior to meeting Lincoln the architect had not even been out to himself so Lincoln supposed that Michael wouldn’t be thrilled if he were outed to people he didn’t know but had to work with. He wondered why Michael had really come down to the site; it wasn’t as if getting his coffee mug was anything urgent.
Looking at him he just looked uncomfortable and unhappy and Lincoln wondered why he’d said yes to Chuck in the first place, but since he really wanted Michael to come, he was not about to ask.
The door to the trailer opened and chuck peeked in. "Come along," he said. "Eric decided that he needed a beer as well."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Michael felt tiny and out of place as he walked down the street together with the other three men. Lincoln, Chuck and Eric were discussing someone they worked with who was going through a difficult divorce and since Michael didn’t even know who he was; he really had nothing to add. They all probably weighed twice as much as him and were wearing casual clothes and heavy boots. Michael felt like a peacock walking next to them in his designer suit and handmade Italian leather shoes.
The bar itself was quite noisy and smoke hung thickly in the air. Eric made his way over to the bar to order four bottles of beer, assuming that that’s what everyone would want.
Lincoln looked around the place, he had been there many times before but now he was trying to see it through Michael’s eyes. He kept glancing over at the younger man, making sure that he was okay.
"Pool table’s free," Chuck said as he grabbed the beer from Eric and led them all over to it.
"Doubles?" Eric asked, picking up a cue and chalking the end of it.
Lincoln looked over at Michael once more and raised an eyebrow. "Michael, do you wanna play?"
Looking round at the three men, Michael didn’t want to come off as an idiot, so he nodded and put his hand on Lincoln’s arm, making them hold back slightly while the other two went ahead.
"Just quickly tell me the rules," he said, hoping that Lincoln wouldn’t make fun of him for not already knowing.
The older man smiled and leaned in close. "Okay it’s like you said that time in the trailer, it is basically like snooker, except whoever pots either a stripe or a spot ball first can then only pot those balls. If you pot the white or the other player’s balls then it’s a foul… and if you pot the black ball then the game is over and the other guys win, unless you have already potted all your balls, only then can you pot the black… got it?"
Michael nodded immediately he never needed telling something more than once. "Got it," he said.
While they dallied Eric had set up the table and asked Michael if he wanted to break. Michael shook his head minutely. "I haven’t really play pool in a long time," he said. "Someone else start."
"Okay. Lincoln?"
"Sure," Lincoln answered grabbing a cue.
Michael watched as Lincoln broke up the pyramid sending the balls scattering all over the table. He pocketed a red spotted ball and glanced at Michael with a smile; Michael smiled back, his mind busy calculating angles and curves.
As they watched Lincoln move around the table, trying to decide which ball to go for, Eric rested his arm on Chuck’s shoulder casually and whispered something to him that made him snicker.
Lincoln, leaning over the table, glanced up just enough at them to glare at them for trying to distract him before he cracked the ball with his cue and potted another one.
By the time Michael’s turn came along, he had already mapped out the route of the ball he was going to aim for first and the force with which he would have to hit it. He concentrated hard, unaware of Lincoln’s eyes on him, watching him affectionately.
He hit the ball and it bounced off the edge and straight into the hole. In a rare moment of excitement, Michael punched his hand into the air and shouted, "Yeah!"
Lincoln and the others all laughed along with him and Lincoln gave him a high five.
"Nice shot Mikey," Eric said before looking over Michael’s shoulder at a person standing at the bar. "Hey Linc man, don’t look now but that crazy ass ex of yours just walked in."
Michael stiffened and looked at Lincoln who was wincing slightly, studiously not looking towards the bar.
"Great, what’s he doing here?" He muttered sourly. "I remember him saying he would never come within ten miles of my sadly vanilla ass again after the last time we met, or wait was that the court order?"
"Lincoln," a deep southern drawl purred and Michael turned his head sharply to look at the speaker. Lincoln's ex really did look nothing like Michael would have expected, first of all he was much older, or at least looked older and Michael didn’t find him all that good looking. The man turned his head and zeroed in on Michael a feral smile spreading over his face.
"Now what is this? Have you been holding out on me?" The last question was directed at Lincoln as the man moved steadfastly closer to Michael who felt suspiciously like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming train.
"Hey there pretty," the man murmured, the tone of his voice sending shivers down Michael’s spine, but he couldn’t tell if it was from repulsion or desire.
Lincoln moved closer to Michael and placed his arm around him. "You take my shot," he said softly, manoeuvring him towards the other two like he was in need of some kind of protection.
"Hello Theodore, I see they let you out of your padded cell," Lincoln said, his tone half teasing and half threatening, making Michael unsure of how Lincoln felt at this moment in time.
"Now come on Sink," the strange man said with a grin. "Padded? No, too soft. You know I like my cages with proper bars and everything."
Lincoln let out a weak laugh and shook his head. He saw that T-Bag was looking past him at Michael and he felt his blood begin to boil. T-Bag was part of his past, the past he had worked hard to forget. Michael was something good and beautiful and he didn’t want the likes of T-Bag even looking at him.
"You got yourself one pretty boy there Sink," T-Bag said as he tried to move past him but Lincoln put his arm up. He felt like the alpha male needing to mark his territory and make it clear that T-Bag was to stay away from Michael, but he didn’t want to embarrass Michael or make him uncomfortable.
"Oooh," T-Bag said, looking down at the arm blocking his way. "The bunny grew some teeth since I last saw him. Do you really wish to fight me boy?"
"I don’t wish to do anything with you," Lincoln said coldly. "Stay away from me and stay away from my friends."
T-Bag chuckled and slowly backed off, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. "You wound me with your words," he said dramatically, before nodding to Michael with a crooked smile. "I hope I’ll see you again Pretty. If you ever grow tired of the bunny, just ask around for Uncle Teddy and I’ll come save you."
Michael unconsciously moved in behind Lincoln, like his bulk would protect him from the other man’s animalistic magnetism and weirdly hypnotic voice. He heard the other man laugh as he moved away from them, but he didn’t care as he rested his forehead against Lincoln's back and drew his scent deep into his nostrils. Lincoln’s ex had unsettled him deeply in ways he didn’t fully understand.
How could someone like Lincoln have gone out with someone like T-Bag?
Eric and Chuck watched as the crazy bastard left, both suppressing a shudder, and looked over at Lincoln, seeing the way Michael rested against him. Eric raised an eyebrow at Chuck who smiled in return.
"Hell Linc, you could have told us you were getting bouncy with the boss, we wouldn’t have held it against you. Though I guess that would explain why you were put in charge," Chuck teased, dodging the cube of chalk that Lincoln threw at him.
He turned and placed his hands on Michael’s arms. "Are you all right?"
Michael looked up at him. He knew that Lincoln seemed imposing and possibly threatening on first appearances but Michael had gotten to know him now, and he knew that Lincoln was just a kind and sweet guy, he couldn’t imagine he and T-Bag together.
With a stiff nod, indicating to Lincoln that Michael was in fact not all right, Michael turned and picked up his cue. "My turn right?"
~~~~~~~~~~
"So it was a long time ago then?" Michael asked, unable to drop the subject as they walked back to Michael’s apartment.
"Michael, I have a past, one I’m not exactly proud of. I met people who were less than savoury… I… I was pretty messed up there for a while, but I turned my life around. I’m not that person anymore. Those things, well, they were just things that I did, not who I am."
Michael stopped outside the apartment block and turned to look at Lincoln. He believed him. Lincoln had shown him nothing but kindness and patience. "So what happened to make you change?"
Lincoln sighed. He hadn’t really wanted to bring this up but he wasn’t going to lie to Michael. "Someone I cared for died in front of me, they had accidentally overdosed on cocaine and I was due in court for… well a bunch of things… it all happened in the same week and when I was given a second chance by that judge, I took it. Which meant leaving all my old friends… leaving the old me."
"I’m sorry," Michael said, shuffling his feet slightly. "You’ve done well for yourself though. I mean… You’re a foreman now and the best one I’ve worked with…"
Lincoln smiled. "You only say that because you want to fuck me."
Michael twitched. "Not today, please," he said hurriedly, suddenly deathly afraid that Lincoln would want them to have sex right away.
Lincoln laughed. "Had you been anyone else, I would have considered myself dumped."
"No…no," Michael said quickly. "That came out wrong… I do want to…um…fuck you. I just…"
"Need more time," Lincoln supplied with a smile. "It’s okay."
"I’m sorry I’m so much trouble. I bet you wished you’d chosen someone more…" Michael thought about Theodore. "Forward."
"No," Lincoln said softly, leaning forward to give Michael an almost chaste kiss. "I don’t want anyone but you."
Michael’s smile trembled little at the edges as his stomach filled with a hundred happy butterflies. "I better go inside," he said. "But I’ll see you Friday… Right?"
Lincoln smiled. "Yeah, I’ll see you Friday."
"Good." Michael looked around furtively before darting in and giving Lincoln a quick kiss. "Bye."
"Bye," Lincoln said with a smile in his voice.
Michael wasn’t sure if he walked or floated to the door, his mind kept repeating the key phrase of the evening: I don’t want anyone but you.
To Be Continued
Chapter 11
The Internet was an incredible tool that enhanced many people’s lives. It was used to communicate with loved ones on the other side of the world. It was used to learn new things about anything and everything. Some people did their banking online and some sent nice online birthday cards.
Michael was currently looking at gay porn.
He swallowed nervously as he read the page about exactly how it all worked and the mechanics of it. He was starting to sweat. He loosened his tie and sipped a glass of water. Lincoln was picking him up in an hour and Michael was terrified, he needed to be prepared, that was all. After all, knowledge is power.
He clicked on the play button of the pornography he had downloaded. He wasn’t sure about this but he needed to see it for himself, reading up on it would only take him so far. He stared at the screen, caught between horror and interest as one man began fisting his own cock and moaning ridiculously.
"Oh come on, you just started touching yourself," he said to the man on the screen.
When another man, bigger and more Lincoln sized, walked in and caught his friend jerking off, Michael relaxed in his own skin a little more and watched as the scene unfolded. He tried picturing them as him and Lincoln but failed miserably, Lincoln looked much better than the man on the screen. At first it was fairly simple, the Lincoln-sized man gave the ridiculously moaning one a hand in the literal sense of the word, which of course made him moan and whimper even louder. The Lincoln-sized man made The Moaner turn over on his stomach and spread his cheeks. Michael winced at the close up of The Moaner’s hole afraid that it was a bit more than he could stomach before dinner. The Lincoln-sized man moved up behind him and Michael leaned closer thinking he was about to start the preparations he had read about.
The Lincoln-sized man did not start the preparations, he went down on his knees and licked The Moaners’ hole. Michael recoiled in horror, closing down the screen and just to be sure the entire computer. He couldn’t believe it, the Lincoln-sized man had licked there; put his tongue on The Moaner’s hole. Michael had seen it with his own eyes and the camera had been close enough for him to see the Lincoln-sized man’s saliva as it wetted the opening. It could only mean one thing, it was real; people actually did lick each other’s asses.
Michael popped the top button of his collar trying to wrap his mind around what he had seen. If Lincoln wanted to have his ass licked he would surely have to look elsewhere, Michael would never ever put his tongue there, such uncleanliness was unheard of. In his mind he had just barely come to terms with sucking cock, even though it did sound terribly unhygienic, so if Lincoln offered his ass for licking Michael would quite literally die in horror. He couldn’t expect that, could he?
Michael got up from his desk pacing the apartment nervously, his thoughts running around like the bulls of Pamplona.
"It can’t be common practice, can it?" He asked Jock who was watching him from his spot on the couch. "I mean, if everybody did it shouldn’t it have been on the page I read?"
And why the hell had The Moaner’s unrealistic moans made Michael’s own cock start to throb in his pants? It was just all so wrong. He would just have to sit Lincoln down and tell him exactly what he was comfortable with and what he wasn’t. Did all gay men have full anal penetrative sex anyway? Maybe there was a chance that Lincoln wouldn’t mind if they just occasionally did what they did that night in the hotel.
Defeated, Michael flopped down on the couch next to Jock, his tension headache started to surface again. He tried to control his breathing and he rolled his neck on his shoulders in an attempt to loosen it up.
Of course Lincoln would want to do it all, that was what he was used to. He was used to men like that T-Bag, men who probably wouldn’t think twice before licking someone’s asshole. If Michael wanted to keep Lincoln he was just going to have get used to it, or start drinking.
"That’s not a bad idea," he said, turning to look at Jock. He went into the kitchen and poured himself a double scotch and fished out a bar of chocolate from the fridge for his headache.
By the time Lincoln arrived at Michael’s door Michael was feeling so much better about everything. He smiled at Lincoln warmly and stepped forward to hug him, which was quite unusual for him.
"Are you drunk?" Lincoln asked with an amused smile.
"Drunk?" Michael responded like the entire concept was foreign to him.
"You smell like you’ve been drinking," Lincoln pointed out and stole himself a kiss. When Lincoln made to pull away Michael followed, keeping their mouths locked together and deepening the kiss, thinking that maybe the best of all would be to have things over with all at once.
After a few minutes of lazy kissing Lincoln pushed him away. "Now I know you’ve been drinking," he said with a smile, his voice just a little bit rougher than it had been before the kiss. "Want to tell me why?"
"Oh, I don’t know… I was thinking about sex and one thing led to another."
Lincoln made a sound like he’d just choked on his own tongue. "You thought about sex and took to drinking… That doesn’t sound very promising somehow."
"Oh I don’t know," he said airily, eyeing Lincoln up and down. "I’ve heard that a lot of people that lose their virginity are drunk when it happens."
Lincoln coughed. "I’ve heard a lot of them regret it too," he said.
The last thing Lincoln wanted was for Michael to feel so tightly wound about the whole thing that he wanted to get it over and done with. He sighed and took Michael in his arms. "You are certainly hard work Michael Scofield."
Michael shifted in his arms and pressed his face into Lincoln’s neck. "You smell good," he breathed huskily.
Lincoln felt a shiver run through him and he had to close his eyes and take a deep breath to stop himself from taking advantage of Michael’s current inebriated state.
"Come on," he said, pulling out of the hug. "You’ll feel better when you’ve got some food in you."
~~~~~~~~~~
Lincoln pulled out a chair and sat Michael down at the food bar. He had taken him to a sushi bar, thinking that Michael would appreciate it. However when he had made that decision he hadn’t been aware that it was karaoke night. He cringed as some woman murdered a George Michael song and sat down next to Michael.
"I’ll have a beer," Michael told the woman who approached them.
"Uh, maybe you should have a soft drink?" Lincoln suggested.
Michael turned and smiled at him reassuringly. "I’m fine, honestly. I think the car ride wore most of it off. I’m sorry… about earlier," he said, his eyes looking down.
Lincoln just smiled and reached out to stroke Michael’s hand, which rested on the table. It would be a lie to say that he hadn’t appreciated the change in Michael, it had been really nice to be welcomed with open arms instead of a weary look, but the fact that Michael had to be drunk to do it only proved to Lincoln that the architect still had a bit to go. He didn’t blame Michael for it though, Lincoln couldn’t even imagine how he would have felt when faced with sex and stuff if he’d never been involved in a relationship. God knew he’d been an idiot when he met T-Bag, but having grown up with his large family he had not been even a third as clueless as Michael. Lincoln had always been social, forward and outgoing. He’d surrounded himself with friends and been popular in school, in all essence he’d been the opposite of Michael. Frowning he wondered how much the younger man had gotten pushed around in school, the very thought made his fingers tighten around Michael’s.
Michael looked up and smiled shyly at Lincoln, before looking at the clasped hands on the table. Lincoln wondered if it made him uncomfortable to hold hands so publicly and he was just about to pull his hand away when Michael squeezed the fingers that were covering his own.
"It was nice to get welcomed with a hug," Lincoln said with a smile.
Michael blushed a little. "Hugging you is nice," he admitted and Lincoln couldn’t help but to wonder how much it cost him.
"You’re not like anyone else I’ve ever met," Lincoln said. "You’re special."
"Don’t say that," Michael said looking away and pulling his hand out from under Lincoln’s.
"Why not?" Lincoln asked, honestly confused.
"Because it means too much," Michael answered.
Before Lincoln had the chance to enquire as to what on earth he meant, their drinks arrived.
When all other topics seemed to fail with Michael, Lincoln always relied on work. It was safe and it was something that Michael felt comfortable talking about. So they sat and ate their food keeping the topic light.
Just as a young man, with a fairly nice voice, began singing Frank Sinatra’s My Way, Lincoln’s cell phone went off and he excused himself to go outside so that he could hear the caller over the noise.
Michael was on his third beer of the night. He had never been much of a drinker and it had gone straight to his head. It felt nice, to quieten his brain for a while, to lock the filing cabinet and just focus on the here and now.
Outside, Lincoln opened his phone and looked at the display, he smiled when he saw that it was his son calling him.
"Hey Kiddo," he answered, wishing he had have brought his jacket out with him.
"Hey dad. Are you out?" LJ asked him, his voice sounding upset to Lincoln.
"Yeah, yeah. Is everything okay?" Lincoln asked concerned.
"I guess," LJ said, wishing his dad were home more often instead of always out with this new guy of his whenever he called. "I wanted to come over."
Lincoln felt like he had been punched in the gut at his son’s words. "I’m sorry LJ, but it’s not my night to have you, it’s your mom’s. Has something happened? Have you been fighting with Adrian again?"
"No," LJ said reluctantly. "But it’s disgusting. They’re all over each other right in front of me."
Lincoln chuckled. "Well Kiddo, that’s what newlyweds are like. Listen, how about you come over in the morning and we’ll do something. I’ll even buy you one of those skate board games you like… I just, I already made plans for tonight."
"With that guy again?"
"Yeah, with Michael."
"So…." LJ dragged the words out. "Are you two serious? You’ve been hanging out with him a lot."
"I’m not sure," Lincoln said. "He’s a bit different."
"But you like him a lot, yeah?"
"Yeah," Lincoln admitted, feeling all warm inside. "I do like him a lot."
"Yeah well… As long as you’re not all over him in front of meI suppose it’s all right."
Lincoln chuckled. "I gotta go kiddo. See you tomorrow."
"Bye dad. See you tomorrow."
Lincoln snapped his phone shut and pocketed it, heading back inside.
Inside the sushi bar, Michael applauded the man singing on stage as he finished his song and turned to smile at the waiter who was whipping down the counter. "Another beer please," he asked, his words only ever so slightly slurred.
The young waiter giggled at Michael and leaned casually against the counter. "I know for a fact that you have never been here before," he said out of the blue.
Michael frowned but smiled at the same time. "And how would you know that?"
"Because I would definitely remember you," the guy said, looking Michael up and down.
Michael couldn’t help but laugh at that. "Is that so? And what’s so special about me?" he asked, smiling at the guy slightly. Before the waiter could answer, Michael realised what it was he was doing. He was flirting, and successfully. That was a first. He sat up straighter in his chair.
"Well," the waiter said, leaning down so that he was much closer to Michael. "Let’s just say we don’t get a lot of hot guys coming in here… especially not on karaoke night."
Michael laughed. "You think I’m hot?"
The waiter made a show of looking him up and down again. "I think you already know how hot you are."
"Well maybe I need to be reminded," Michael responded batting his eyelashes.
He couldn’t wait for Lincoln to get back so that he could tell the other man how much better he’d become at socialising since he met him. He was rather successfully flirting with another guy, the fact that he had no intention what so ever at doing anything with the guy in question was irrelevant. At least he managed to go through the motions without trying to hide under his chair and he called that a success. Of course the amount of alcohol in his system might have something to do with his new forwardness, if the same thing happened to him when sober chances were he would not even realize the guy was trying to flirt.
"Do you have a name?" The bartender asked.
"Yeah," Michael said with a secretive smile.
"Care to tell me?"
"Only if you tell me yours."
Michael began to wonder what he had started, flirting was all fine, but how did he put an end to it before they exchanged phone numbers. The guy behind the bar might be good looking enough, but he certainly was no Lincoln.
The guy laughed and was about to tell Michael his name when he felt a rather imposing figure standing behind him, drilling holes in the of his back with his eyes.
Michael looked over the guy’s shoulder and smiled at Lincoln who for some reason didn’t look very happy.
"Michael," Lincoln told the waiter, glaring at the man and making him wonder if he was about to get punched. "His name is Michael."
Michael grinned at the waiter and picked up and eggroll and began eating it.
"I um, I have to get back to work," the guy said, turning and fleeing as fast as he could. Lincoln watched him leave and then turned his glare onto Michael.
"What the hell was that?" he asked, making Michael frown in confusion.
"That was the waiter… hey, I asked him for a beer," Michael said, trying to look for the waiter again.
"Why don’t you go find him then? I’m sure he’ll give you a whole lot more than a beer if you ask him nicely."
Michael gave Lincoln a worried look. "Did something happen? You sound so… annoyed."
"Here I was thinking that you were this shy little thing that needed a lot of wooing and soft words… It turns out you’re the neighbourhood slut, excuse me if I get a little pissed."
"What?" Michael gasped, feeling cold inside. "I was just talking to him."
"Talking? Michael my dear, you where one step away from blowing him behind the bar."
Michael made a disgusted face. "No I wasn’t. What’s wrong with you? I thought we were having a good time."
"Well you are apparently having a good time. I better go and leave you with your new friend over there. I’m sure he’d just love a chance to walk you home."
Michael watched, open-mouthed, as Lincoln made his way over tot he coatstand and retrieved his jacket. He couldn’t believe how Lincoln had just acted. He was jealous. Michael had actually managed to make someone jealous. He was hurt by Lincoln’s words and by his lack of trust, but he was also slightly impressed that he had managed to make someone jealous.
He had to fix it. He couldn’t just let Lincoln walk out of his life, not now, not after everything that they had over come. He stood up and went to follow him but instead his eyes were drawn to the empty stage. He needed to make a grand gesture to let Lincoln know how sorry he was, before it was too late.
Lincoln grabbed his jacket off the rack and walked over to the counter by the door to settle the bill. He couldn’t believe Michael, that just wasn’t like him. He replayed the words he had spoken to the younger man and he felt like a bastard. No matter what he had done, Michael saw certainly not a slut. He was good and kind.
He sighed deeply and handed over some money to he woman behind the counter. Behind him someone was singing a Barry Manalow song, badly, and he listened to the words while he waited for the receipt, wondering if he should go back in and talk things through with Michael.
"Oh Lincoln, when you came and you gave without taking," the voice on the stage sang. "But I sent you away, Oh Lincoln."
Lincoln turned round in disbelief and looked at the man on the stage singing to him. "Oh my God, Michael."
"Oh Lincoln, when you kissed me and stopped me from shaking," Michael sang, feeling extremely drunk and a little bit sick.
Lincoln was drawn to the stage as if Michael had been magnetic and maybe in a way he was. Michael kept singing, terribly off key and with little respect for the actual lyrics, and without any music to accompany him, but to Lincoln it was the most beautiful song he had ever heard. Their eyes locked and a smile spread over Michael’s face.
"I’m really sorry, Linc," he said. "Please say I don’t have to sing anymore."
Lincoln smiled brightly, it was the first time Michael had called him Linc. "You don’t have to sing anymore," Lincoln promised, spreading his arms wide, uncaring of the people who were staring at them both like they were a couple of freaks.
Michael was off the stage and into his arms in a time that would have made an Olympic sprinter impressed. "I’m so sorry," Michael murmured. "I was just so proud that I could do it… I didn’t think."
"I’m sorry too," Lincoln said and pressed a kiss to Michael’s lips even though he was aware that the eyes of the entire restaurant were on them. "I overreacted."
Michael pressed closer to him for a second then he pulled away violently. "I’m gonna be sick," he said his face having taken on a greenish tint.
By the time Lincoln got Michael back to his apartment he had had to stop twice so that Michael could throw up, something the younger man very much disliked.
He pulled the covers up over Michael, placing a tall glass of water and some aspirin on the bed side table.
"Stay with me," Michael asked him, his eyes already closed.
Lincoln only had to think about it for a minute before he pulled of his shirt and pants and slid in beside him.
"You saw me throw up," Michael whispered, disgusted by himself.
Lincoln only chuckled and pulled him in to his arms. "Yeah I did... and I didn’t run away." He pressed a soft kiss to Michael’s check and closed his eyes.
To Be Continued.
Authors: bwitched83uk and jeyhawk
Series: Yes!
Rating: Overall NC17
Pairing: Michael/Lincoln
Genre: Angst, Romance, Erotica, AU, Slash.
Summary: A life lived in fear, is a life half lived.
Disclaimer: We do not own the characters of Michael Scofield, or Lincoln Burrows, nor are we any way associated with the series Prison Break, or Fox. This is a fictional story using someone else’s characters. Not true.
Feedback: Don’t make us beg.
Beta: clex_monkie89
Warnings: AU, Slash, Sexual Situations
Note: Just realized I was a little behind on the posting, or rather a lot. I suppose that is what you get for not being online very much.
Chapter 10
In the days after their ‘date’ that had stretched out over two days, Michael felt giddy and antsy in turns. He trusted Lincoln a whole lot more now and he knew that Lincoln wouldn’t push him into something he didn’t want to do, at least he wouldn’t do more than nudge him gently. Thinking of Lincoln made him feel all giddy and seeing him made wild butterflies dance around inside his stomach, something he didn’t much like but was unable to stop. He’d let himself fall for Lincoln and now he had to live with the fallout. He hadn’t seen Lincoln since he kissed him goodbye on Sunday afternoon and even though he was loath to admit it, Michael did miss him. He’d gotten so used to having Lincoln randomly showing up that not seeing him felt strange.
Michael wondered if he should be worried that Lincoln hadn’t made any contact for a couple of days, it was Wednesday now and he hadn’t seen or heard from him since Sunday. He really should be focusing on the work he’d brought home with him, but his brain kept pulling up the Lincoln files, making it impossible to focus on the task at hand. With a sigh he closed the folder he’d been reviewing and rubbed his hand over his eyes. He needed to focus on something else for a while.
He felt a brief moment of sadness wash over him that he didn’t have anyone in his life that he could call up and invite over, or go see a movie with. He didn’t have any family, and he didn’t really have any friends, none that he socialised with outside of work at least.
He could call Lincoln he supposed, but Lincoln was probably busy, that was why he hadn’t called. He would probably be down at the site now, as it was late afternoon, most likely finishing up for the day. If Michael were to go down to the site to… pick up his mug which he had left there, then it wouldn’t be like he was following Lincoln around, it was just that he really needed that mug.
He looked over at the couch and saw Jock McBear sitting there looking back at him. "I’m pathetic, aren’t I?"
The bear just looked back at him, his sewn on smile agreeing with Michael. "Damn," Michael muttered. "But just so you know, I really do like that mug." The bear just kept smiling that unnerving smile as Michael got up from the chair.
"I just want to see him that’s all," he said to the bear. "I don’t even have to talk to him. It’s just… We never did say anything about Friday… We should make plans, you know. Unless…" Michael’s face fell a little. "Unless he already has plans that don’t include me."
Michael paced back and forth nervously, debating with himself whether he really should go down to the site or not. Not going down certainly had its merits, as in he would not make a fool out of himself, but going down had its own rewards, such as seeing Lincoln.
"I’m going," he suddenly said to the bear having made up his mind. "The walk will do me good, straighten out my mind." He snickered a little. "Straighten…" When he glanced over at the bear it looked like it was embarrassed to know him.
~~~~~~~~~
By the time Michael arrived at the site they were packing up for the evening, just like he assumed they would be. He looked around but couldn’t see Lincoln, which was strange, seeing as he was the foreman and wasn’t supposed to leave early.
He walked slowly through the site, looking around in what he hoped was a casual manner. He nodded to a few of the workers who he had spoken to once or twice before and made his way over to the cabin. Perhaps Lincoln was in there which would be perfect as he could just walk right over to his mug and say hello to Lincoln as he was collecting it.
He stopped outside the door to the cabin when he heard laughing coming from inside. Pushing the door open slowly, Michael looked in and saw Lincoln perching on the desk talking closely with some man he didn’t recognise and laughing together.
At the sound of the door opening Lincoln turned to look and saw Michael standing there. "Hey boss," he said with a secretive smile.
"Um…Hi," Michael said, hesitantly stepping in to the cabin.
Suddenly he felt like a complete fool, getting his mug in front of Lincoln would have been fine, but doing it in front a stranger was an entirely different thing and what was Lincoln doing talking to that man anyway? Michael had never been jealous before and he discovered it felt suspiciously like having heartburn.
"Hi," the other man said. "I don’t believe we’ve met before. I’m Chuck, Lincoln’s right hand man."
Michael shook the offered hand trying hard not to think about its dirtiness. "I’m Michael…Scofield and I… um… designed the place."
Right hand man? What was that supposed to mean? Michael frowned slightly scanning the cluttered room for his precious mug.
"So we’re heading out for a couple of beers after work? Wanna tag along?" Chuck asked and Michael twitched slightly. It stung that Chuck was the one to offer and not Lincoln, maybe Lincoln didn’t want him to come.
Michael’s eyes locked with Lincoln’s for a moment and he saw nothing to suggest that Lincoln didn’t want him tagging along.
"Sure," he said, moving further into the trailer. "I just have to get my mug first." He tried not to let his inward cringe spread to the surface at his words.
Lincoln smirked a little and turned his face away from Michael. He hadn’t expected Michael to agree to go with them to a bar, what with his phobia of people, noise and unwashed floors.
He watched as Michael looked around for his mug and looked down at the one in his hand. It was black and it had ‘architecture is art you can walk through’ written on it in white italic font.
"Is this yours?" he asked, holding out the mug. Michael looked at it and felt himself get warmer. Lincoln was drinking out of his mug, Lincoln had subconsciously chosen Michael’s mug out of all the other mugs to drink from because his brain had probably unconsciously remembered seeing Michael drink from it some time.
"Sorry," Lincoln said walking over to the small sink and dumping out the rest of his coffee. "It was the only one that was clean."
"Oh," Michael said, feeling hurt with no real reason.
He watched as Lincoln washed the mug and dried it, accepting it when Lincoln handed it over. Somehow he didn’t really want it anymore; it was just a stupid mug. "Thanks," he murmured, staring at the floor.
Chuck stretched with a yawn. "I’m just gonna go make sure Eric followed my instructions regarding the wood, then I’m ready to head out."
"Sure," Lincoln said. "We’ll wait here."
Michael followed Chuck with his eyes as he walked out, somewhere his brain registered the fact that he looked good, slimmer build than Lincoln, but the same swagger in his step. He filed the information away in the useless folder, he didn’t care if Chuck looked good or not, the only important thing was whether Lincoln thought so or not.
"So are you bringing your mug to the bar?" Lincoln asked, when the door banged shut behind Chuck.
Michael looked at the cup in his hands, shrugging slightly. "I might just head home."
Lincoln looked at him hard and nodded. "All right, I mean, it’s probably not your thing anyway."
Michael’s head shot up and he looked at Lincoln as if he couldn’t quite believe he had said that.
"I uh, I kind of thought that I would see you down here on Monday," Lincoln said quietly as he moved a little closer to Michael. "But I guess you’ve been busy at the office, huh?"
Michael wasn’t quite sure what to say to that so he just shrugged again. "I guess you’ve been busy too."
Lincoln frowned and wracked his brain trying to figure out what was wrong with Michael when he was the one who had stayed away. "Look," he finally said. "Why don’t you come to the bar for a drink and then if the football talk gets too much for you we can go somewhere else."
Michael gave him a long look. "Okay," he said with a slight smile.
Lincoln wanted to kiss him, but he wasn’t sure how much time they had before Chuck came back and it might just make Michael uncomfortable. Prior to meeting Lincoln the architect had not even been out to himself so Lincoln supposed that Michael wouldn’t be thrilled if he were outed to people he didn’t know but had to work with. He wondered why Michael had really come down to the site; it wasn’t as if getting his coffee mug was anything urgent.
Looking at him he just looked uncomfortable and unhappy and Lincoln wondered why he’d said yes to Chuck in the first place, but since he really wanted Michael to come, he was not about to ask.
The door to the trailer opened and chuck peeked in. "Come along," he said. "Eric decided that he needed a beer as well."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Michael felt tiny and out of place as he walked down the street together with the other three men. Lincoln, Chuck and Eric were discussing someone they worked with who was going through a difficult divorce and since Michael didn’t even know who he was; he really had nothing to add. They all probably weighed twice as much as him and were wearing casual clothes and heavy boots. Michael felt like a peacock walking next to them in his designer suit and handmade Italian leather shoes.
The bar itself was quite noisy and smoke hung thickly in the air. Eric made his way over to the bar to order four bottles of beer, assuming that that’s what everyone would want.
Lincoln looked around the place, he had been there many times before but now he was trying to see it through Michael’s eyes. He kept glancing over at the younger man, making sure that he was okay.
"Pool table’s free," Chuck said as he grabbed the beer from Eric and led them all over to it.
"Doubles?" Eric asked, picking up a cue and chalking the end of it.
Lincoln looked over at Michael once more and raised an eyebrow. "Michael, do you wanna play?"
Looking round at the three men, Michael didn’t want to come off as an idiot, so he nodded and put his hand on Lincoln’s arm, making them hold back slightly while the other two went ahead.
"Just quickly tell me the rules," he said, hoping that Lincoln wouldn’t make fun of him for not already knowing.
The older man smiled and leaned in close. "Okay it’s like you said that time in the trailer, it is basically like snooker, except whoever pots either a stripe or a spot ball first can then only pot those balls. If you pot the white or the other player’s balls then it’s a foul… and if you pot the black ball then the game is over and the other guys win, unless you have already potted all your balls, only then can you pot the black… got it?"
Michael nodded immediately he never needed telling something more than once. "Got it," he said.
While they dallied Eric had set up the table and asked Michael if he wanted to break. Michael shook his head minutely. "I haven’t really play pool in a long time," he said. "Someone else start."
"Okay. Lincoln?"
"Sure," Lincoln answered grabbing a cue.
Michael watched as Lincoln broke up the pyramid sending the balls scattering all over the table. He pocketed a red spotted ball and glanced at Michael with a smile; Michael smiled back, his mind busy calculating angles and curves.
As they watched Lincoln move around the table, trying to decide which ball to go for, Eric rested his arm on Chuck’s shoulder casually and whispered something to him that made him snicker.
Lincoln, leaning over the table, glanced up just enough at them to glare at them for trying to distract him before he cracked the ball with his cue and potted another one.
By the time Michael’s turn came along, he had already mapped out the route of the ball he was going to aim for first and the force with which he would have to hit it. He concentrated hard, unaware of Lincoln’s eyes on him, watching him affectionately.
He hit the ball and it bounced off the edge and straight into the hole. In a rare moment of excitement, Michael punched his hand into the air and shouted, "Yeah!"
Lincoln and the others all laughed along with him and Lincoln gave him a high five.
"Nice shot Mikey," Eric said before looking over Michael’s shoulder at a person standing at the bar. "Hey Linc man, don’t look now but that crazy ass ex of yours just walked in."
Michael stiffened and looked at Lincoln who was wincing slightly, studiously not looking towards the bar.
"Great, what’s he doing here?" He muttered sourly. "I remember him saying he would never come within ten miles of my sadly vanilla ass again after the last time we met, or wait was that the court order?"
"Lincoln," a deep southern drawl purred and Michael turned his head sharply to look at the speaker. Lincoln's ex really did look nothing like Michael would have expected, first of all he was much older, or at least looked older and Michael didn’t find him all that good looking. The man turned his head and zeroed in on Michael a feral smile spreading over his face.
"Now what is this? Have you been holding out on me?" The last question was directed at Lincoln as the man moved steadfastly closer to Michael who felt suspiciously like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming train.
"Hey there pretty," the man murmured, the tone of his voice sending shivers down Michael’s spine, but he couldn’t tell if it was from repulsion or desire.
Lincoln moved closer to Michael and placed his arm around him. "You take my shot," he said softly, manoeuvring him towards the other two like he was in need of some kind of protection.
"Hello Theodore, I see they let you out of your padded cell," Lincoln said, his tone half teasing and half threatening, making Michael unsure of how Lincoln felt at this moment in time.
"Now come on Sink," the strange man said with a grin. "Padded? No, too soft. You know I like my cages with proper bars and everything."
Lincoln let out a weak laugh and shook his head. He saw that T-Bag was looking past him at Michael and he felt his blood begin to boil. T-Bag was part of his past, the past he had worked hard to forget. Michael was something good and beautiful and he didn’t want the likes of T-Bag even looking at him.
"You got yourself one pretty boy there Sink," T-Bag said as he tried to move past him but Lincoln put his arm up. He felt like the alpha male needing to mark his territory and make it clear that T-Bag was to stay away from Michael, but he didn’t want to embarrass Michael or make him uncomfortable.
"Oooh," T-Bag said, looking down at the arm blocking his way. "The bunny grew some teeth since I last saw him. Do you really wish to fight me boy?"
"I don’t wish to do anything with you," Lincoln said coldly. "Stay away from me and stay away from my friends."
T-Bag chuckled and slowly backed off, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. "You wound me with your words," he said dramatically, before nodding to Michael with a crooked smile. "I hope I’ll see you again Pretty. If you ever grow tired of the bunny, just ask around for Uncle Teddy and I’ll come save you."
Michael unconsciously moved in behind Lincoln, like his bulk would protect him from the other man’s animalistic magnetism and weirdly hypnotic voice. He heard the other man laugh as he moved away from them, but he didn’t care as he rested his forehead against Lincoln's back and drew his scent deep into his nostrils. Lincoln’s ex had unsettled him deeply in ways he didn’t fully understand.
How could someone like Lincoln have gone out with someone like T-Bag?
Eric and Chuck watched as the crazy bastard left, both suppressing a shudder, and looked over at Lincoln, seeing the way Michael rested against him. Eric raised an eyebrow at Chuck who smiled in return.
"Hell Linc, you could have told us you were getting bouncy with the boss, we wouldn’t have held it against you. Though I guess that would explain why you were put in charge," Chuck teased, dodging the cube of chalk that Lincoln threw at him.
He turned and placed his hands on Michael’s arms. "Are you all right?"
Michael looked up at him. He knew that Lincoln seemed imposing and possibly threatening on first appearances but Michael had gotten to know him now, and he knew that Lincoln was just a kind and sweet guy, he couldn’t imagine he and T-Bag together.
With a stiff nod, indicating to Lincoln that Michael was in fact not all right, Michael turned and picked up his cue. "My turn right?"
~~~~~~~~~~
"So it was a long time ago then?" Michael asked, unable to drop the subject as they walked back to Michael’s apartment.
"Michael, I have a past, one I’m not exactly proud of. I met people who were less than savoury… I… I was pretty messed up there for a while, but I turned my life around. I’m not that person anymore. Those things, well, they were just things that I did, not who I am."
Michael stopped outside the apartment block and turned to look at Lincoln. He believed him. Lincoln had shown him nothing but kindness and patience. "So what happened to make you change?"
Lincoln sighed. He hadn’t really wanted to bring this up but he wasn’t going to lie to Michael. "Someone I cared for died in front of me, they had accidentally overdosed on cocaine and I was due in court for… well a bunch of things… it all happened in the same week and when I was given a second chance by that judge, I took it. Which meant leaving all my old friends… leaving the old me."
"I’m sorry," Michael said, shuffling his feet slightly. "You’ve done well for yourself though. I mean… You’re a foreman now and the best one I’ve worked with…"
Lincoln smiled. "You only say that because you want to fuck me."
Michael twitched. "Not today, please," he said hurriedly, suddenly deathly afraid that Lincoln would want them to have sex right away.
Lincoln laughed. "Had you been anyone else, I would have considered myself dumped."
"No…no," Michael said quickly. "That came out wrong… I do want to…um…fuck you. I just…"
"Need more time," Lincoln supplied with a smile. "It’s okay."
"I’m sorry I’m so much trouble. I bet you wished you’d chosen someone more…" Michael thought about Theodore. "Forward."
"No," Lincoln said softly, leaning forward to give Michael an almost chaste kiss. "I don’t want anyone but you."
Michael’s smile trembled little at the edges as his stomach filled with a hundred happy butterflies. "I better go inside," he said. "But I’ll see you Friday… Right?"
Lincoln smiled. "Yeah, I’ll see you Friday."
"Good." Michael looked around furtively before darting in and giving Lincoln a quick kiss. "Bye."
"Bye," Lincoln said with a smile in his voice.
Michael wasn’t sure if he walked or floated to the door, his mind kept repeating the key phrase of the evening: I don’t want anyone but you.
To Be Continued
Chapter 11
The Internet was an incredible tool that enhanced many people’s lives. It was used to communicate with loved ones on the other side of the world. It was used to learn new things about anything and everything. Some people did their banking online and some sent nice online birthday cards.
Michael was currently looking at gay porn.
He swallowed nervously as he read the page about exactly how it all worked and the mechanics of it. He was starting to sweat. He loosened his tie and sipped a glass of water. Lincoln was picking him up in an hour and Michael was terrified, he needed to be prepared, that was all. After all, knowledge is power.
He clicked on the play button of the pornography he had downloaded. He wasn’t sure about this but he needed to see it for himself, reading up on it would only take him so far. He stared at the screen, caught between horror and interest as one man began fisting his own cock and moaning ridiculously.
"Oh come on, you just started touching yourself," he said to the man on the screen.
When another man, bigger and more Lincoln sized, walked in and caught his friend jerking off, Michael relaxed in his own skin a little more and watched as the scene unfolded. He tried picturing them as him and Lincoln but failed miserably, Lincoln looked much better than the man on the screen. At first it was fairly simple, the Lincoln-sized man gave the ridiculously moaning one a hand in the literal sense of the word, which of course made him moan and whimper even louder. The Lincoln-sized man made The Moaner turn over on his stomach and spread his cheeks. Michael winced at the close up of The Moaner’s hole afraid that it was a bit more than he could stomach before dinner. The Lincoln-sized man moved up behind him and Michael leaned closer thinking he was about to start the preparations he had read about.
The Lincoln-sized man did not start the preparations, he went down on his knees and licked The Moaners’ hole. Michael recoiled in horror, closing down the screen and just to be sure the entire computer. He couldn’t believe it, the Lincoln-sized man had licked there; put his tongue on The Moaner’s hole. Michael had seen it with his own eyes and the camera had been close enough for him to see the Lincoln-sized man’s saliva as it wetted the opening. It could only mean one thing, it was real; people actually did lick each other’s asses.
Michael popped the top button of his collar trying to wrap his mind around what he had seen. If Lincoln wanted to have his ass licked he would surely have to look elsewhere, Michael would never ever put his tongue there, such uncleanliness was unheard of. In his mind he had just barely come to terms with sucking cock, even though it did sound terribly unhygienic, so if Lincoln offered his ass for licking Michael would quite literally die in horror. He couldn’t expect that, could he?
Michael got up from his desk pacing the apartment nervously, his thoughts running around like the bulls of Pamplona.
"It can’t be common practice, can it?" He asked Jock who was watching him from his spot on the couch. "I mean, if everybody did it shouldn’t it have been on the page I read?"
And why the hell had The Moaner’s unrealistic moans made Michael’s own cock start to throb in his pants? It was just all so wrong. He would just have to sit Lincoln down and tell him exactly what he was comfortable with and what he wasn’t. Did all gay men have full anal penetrative sex anyway? Maybe there was a chance that Lincoln wouldn’t mind if they just occasionally did what they did that night in the hotel.
Defeated, Michael flopped down on the couch next to Jock, his tension headache started to surface again. He tried to control his breathing and he rolled his neck on his shoulders in an attempt to loosen it up.
Of course Lincoln would want to do it all, that was what he was used to. He was used to men like that T-Bag, men who probably wouldn’t think twice before licking someone’s asshole. If Michael wanted to keep Lincoln he was just going to have get used to it, or start drinking.
"That’s not a bad idea," he said, turning to look at Jock. He went into the kitchen and poured himself a double scotch and fished out a bar of chocolate from the fridge for his headache.
By the time Lincoln arrived at Michael’s door Michael was feeling so much better about everything. He smiled at Lincoln warmly and stepped forward to hug him, which was quite unusual for him.
"Are you drunk?" Lincoln asked with an amused smile.
"Drunk?" Michael responded like the entire concept was foreign to him.
"You smell like you’ve been drinking," Lincoln pointed out and stole himself a kiss. When Lincoln made to pull away Michael followed, keeping their mouths locked together and deepening the kiss, thinking that maybe the best of all would be to have things over with all at once.
After a few minutes of lazy kissing Lincoln pushed him away. "Now I know you’ve been drinking," he said with a smile, his voice just a little bit rougher than it had been before the kiss. "Want to tell me why?"
"Oh, I don’t know… I was thinking about sex and one thing led to another."
Lincoln made a sound like he’d just choked on his own tongue. "You thought about sex and took to drinking… That doesn’t sound very promising somehow."
"Oh I don’t know," he said airily, eyeing Lincoln up and down. "I’ve heard that a lot of people that lose their virginity are drunk when it happens."
Lincoln coughed. "I’ve heard a lot of them regret it too," he said.
The last thing Lincoln wanted was for Michael to feel so tightly wound about the whole thing that he wanted to get it over and done with. He sighed and took Michael in his arms. "You are certainly hard work Michael Scofield."
Michael shifted in his arms and pressed his face into Lincoln’s neck. "You smell good," he breathed huskily.
Lincoln felt a shiver run through him and he had to close his eyes and take a deep breath to stop himself from taking advantage of Michael’s current inebriated state.
"Come on," he said, pulling out of the hug. "You’ll feel better when you’ve got some food in you."
~~~~~~~~~~
Lincoln pulled out a chair and sat Michael down at the food bar. He had taken him to a sushi bar, thinking that Michael would appreciate it. However when he had made that decision he hadn’t been aware that it was karaoke night. He cringed as some woman murdered a George Michael song and sat down next to Michael.
"I’ll have a beer," Michael told the woman who approached them.
"Uh, maybe you should have a soft drink?" Lincoln suggested.
Michael turned and smiled at him reassuringly. "I’m fine, honestly. I think the car ride wore most of it off. I’m sorry… about earlier," he said, his eyes looking down.
Lincoln just smiled and reached out to stroke Michael’s hand, which rested on the table. It would be a lie to say that he hadn’t appreciated the change in Michael, it had been really nice to be welcomed with open arms instead of a weary look, but the fact that Michael had to be drunk to do it only proved to Lincoln that the architect still had a bit to go. He didn’t blame Michael for it though, Lincoln couldn’t even imagine how he would have felt when faced with sex and stuff if he’d never been involved in a relationship. God knew he’d been an idiot when he met T-Bag, but having grown up with his large family he had not been even a third as clueless as Michael. Lincoln had always been social, forward and outgoing. He’d surrounded himself with friends and been popular in school, in all essence he’d been the opposite of Michael. Frowning he wondered how much the younger man had gotten pushed around in school, the very thought made his fingers tighten around Michael’s.
Michael looked up and smiled shyly at Lincoln, before looking at the clasped hands on the table. Lincoln wondered if it made him uncomfortable to hold hands so publicly and he was just about to pull his hand away when Michael squeezed the fingers that were covering his own.
"It was nice to get welcomed with a hug," Lincoln said with a smile.
Michael blushed a little. "Hugging you is nice," he admitted and Lincoln couldn’t help but to wonder how much it cost him.
"You’re not like anyone else I’ve ever met," Lincoln said. "You’re special."
"Don’t say that," Michael said looking away and pulling his hand out from under Lincoln’s.
"Why not?" Lincoln asked, honestly confused.
"Because it means too much," Michael answered.
Before Lincoln had the chance to enquire as to what on earth he meant, their drinks arrived.
When all other topics seemed to fail with Michael, Lincoln always relied on work. It was safe and it was something that Michael felt comfortable talking about. So they sat and ate their food keeping the topic light.
Just as a young man, with a fairly nice voice, began singing Frank Sinatra’s My Way, Lincoln’s cell phone went off and he excused himself to go outside so that he could hear the caller over the noise.
Michael was on his third beer of the night. He had never been much of a drinker and it had gone straight to his head. It felt nice, to quieten his brain for a while, to lock the filing cabinet and just focus on the here and now.
Outside, Lincoln opened his phone and looked at the display, he smiled when he saw that it was his son calling him.
"Hey Kiddo," he answered, wishing he had have brought his jacket out with him.
"Hey dad. Are you out?" LJ asked him, his voice sounding upset to Lincoln.
"Yeah, yeah. Is everything okay?" Lincoln asked concerned.
"I guess," LJ said, wishing his dad were home more often instead of always out with this new guy of his whenever he called. "I wanted to come over."
Lincoln felt like he had been punched in the gut at his son’s words. "I’m sorry LJ, but it’s not my night to have you, it’s your mom’s. Has something happened? Have you been fighting with Adrian again?"
"No," LJ said reluctantly. "But it’s disgusting. They’re all over each other right in front of me."
Lincoln chuckled. "Well Kiddo, that’s what newlyweds are like. Listen, how about you come over in the morning and we’ll do something. I’ll even buy you one of those skate board games you like… I just, I already made plans for tonight."
"With that guy again?"
"Yeah, with Michael."
"So…." LJ dragged the words out. "Are you two serious? You’ve been hanging out with him a lot."
"I’m not sure," Lincoln said. "He’s a bit different."
"But you like him a lot, yeah?"
"Yeah," Lincoln admitted, feeling all warm inside. "I do like him a lot."
"Yeah well… As long as you’re not all over him in front of meI suppose it’s all right."
Lincoln chuckled. "I gotta go kiddo. See you tomorrow."
"Bye dad. See you tomorrow."
Lincoln snapped his phone shut and pocketed it, heading back inside.
Inside the sushi bar, Michael applauded the man singing on stage as he finished his song and turned to smile at the waiter who was whipping down the counter. "Another beer please," he asked, his words only ever so slightly slurred.
The young waiter giggled at Michael and leaned casually against the counter. "I know for a fact that you have never been here before," he said out of the blue.
Michael frowned but smiled at the same time. "And how would you know that?"
"Because I would definitely remember you," the guy said, looking Michael up and down.
Michael couldn’t help but laugh at that. "Is that so? And what’s so special about me?" he asked, smiling at the guy slightly. Before the waiter could answer, Michael realised what it was he was doing. He was flirting, and successfully. That was a first. He sat up straighter in his chair.
"Well," the waiter said, leaning down so that he was much closer to Michael. "Let’s just say we don’t get a lot of hot guys coming in here… especially not on karaoke night."
Michael laughed. "You think I’m hot?"
The waiter made a show of looking him up and down again. "I think you already know how hot you are."
"Well maybe I need to be reminded," Michael responded batting his eyelashes.
He couldn’t wait for Lincoln to get back so that he could tell the other man how much better he’d become at socialising since he met him. He was rather successfully flirting with another guy, the fact that he had no intention what so ever at doing anything with the guy in question was irrelevant. At least he managed to go through the motions without trying to hide under his chair and he called that a success. Of course the amount of alcohol in his system might have something to do with his new forwardness, if the same thing happened to him when sober chances were he would not even realize the guy was trying to flirt.
"Do you have a name?" The bartender asked.
"Yeah," Michael said with a secretive smile.
"Care to tell me?"
"Only if you tell me yours."
Michael began to wonder what he had started, flirting was all fine, but how did he put an end to it before they exchanged phone numbers. The guy behind the bar might be good looking enough, but he certainly was no Lincoln.
The guy laughed and was about to tell Michael his name when he felt a rather imposing figure standing behind him, drilling holes in the of his back with his eyes.
Michael looked over the guy’s shoulder and smiled at Lincoln who for some reason didn’t look very happy.
"Michael," Lincoln told the waiter, glaring at the man and making him wonder if he was about to get punched. "His name is Michael."
Michael grinned at the waiter and picked up and eggroll and began eating it.
"I um, I have to get back to work," the guy said, turning and fleeing as fast as he could. Lincoln watched him leave and then turned his glare onto Michael.
"What the hell was that?" he asked, making Michael frown in confusion.
"That was the waiter… hey, I asked him for a beer," Michael said, trying to look for the waiter again.
"Why don’t you go find him then? I’m sure he’ll give you a whole lot more than a beer if you ask him nicely."
Michael gave Lincoln a worried look. "Did something happen? You sound so… annoyed."
"Here I was thinking that you were this shy little thing that needed a lot of wooing and soft words… It turns out you’re the neighbourhood slut, excuse me if I get a little pissed."
"What?" Michael gasped, feeling cold inside. "I was just talking to him."
"Talking? Michael my dear, you where one step away from blowing him behind the bar."
Michael made a disgusted face. "No I wasn’t. What’s wrong with you? I thought we were having a good time."
"Well you are apparently having a good time. I better go and leave you with your new friend over there. I’m sure he’d just love a chance to walk you home."
Michael watched, open-mouthed, as Lincoln made his way over tot he coatstand and retrieved his jacket. He couldn’t believe how Lincoln had just acted. He was jealous. Michael had actually managed to make someone jealous. He was hurt by Lincoln’s words and by his lack of trust, but he was also slightly impressed that he had managed to make someone jealous.
He had to fix it. He couldn’t just let Lincoln walk out of his life, not now, not after everything that they had over come. He stood up and went to follow him but instead his eyes were drawn to the empty stage. He needed to make a grand gesture to let Lincoln know how sorry he was, before it was too late.
Lincoln grabbed his jacket off the rack and walked over to the counter by the door to settle the bill. He couldn’t believe Michael, that just wasn’t like him. He replayed the words he had spoken to the younger man and he felt like a bastard. No matter what he had done, Michael saw certainly not a slut. He was good and kind.
He sighed deeply and handed over some money to he woman behind the counter. Behind him someone was singing a Barry Manalow song, badly, and he listened to the words while he waited for the receipt, wondering if he should go back in and talk things through with Michael.
"Oh Lincoln, when you came and you gave without taking," the voice on the stage sang. "But I sent you away, Oh Lincoln."
Lincoln turned round in disbelief and looked at the man on the stage singing to him. "Oh my God, Michael."
"Oh Lincoln, when you kissed me and stopped me from shaking," Michael sang, feeling extremely drunk and a little bit sick.
Lincoln was drawn to the stage as if Michael had been magnetic and maybe in a way he was. Michael kept singing, terribly off key and with little respect for the actual lyrics, and without any music to accompany him, but to Lincoln it was the most beautiful song he had ever heard. Their eyes locked and a smile spread over Michael’s face.
"I’m really sorry, Linc," he said. "Please say I don’t have to sing anymore."
Lincoln smiled brightly, it was the first time Michael had called him Linc. "You don’t have to sing anymore," Lincoln promised, spreading his arms wide, uncaring of the people who were staring at them both like they were a couple of freaks.
Michael was off the stage and into his arms in a time that would have made an Olympic sprinter impressed. "I’m so sorry," Michael murmured. "I was just so proud that I could do it… I didn’t think."
"I’m sorry too," Lincoln said and pressed a kiss to Michael’s lips even though he was aware that the eyes of the entire restaurant were on them. "I overreacted."
Michael pressed closer to him for a second then he pulled away violently. "I’m gonna be sick," he said his face having taken on a greenish tint.
By the time Lincoln got Michael back to his apartment he had had to stop twice so that Michael could throw up, something the younger man very much disliked.
He pulled the covers up over Michael, placing a tall glass of water and some aspirin on the bed side table.
"Stay with me," Michael asked him, his eyes already closed.
Lincoln only had to think about it for a minute before he pulled of his shirt and pants and slid in beside him.
"You saw me throw up," Michael whispered, disgusted by himself.
Lincoln only chuckled and pulled him in to his arms. "Yeah I did... and I didn’t run away." He pressed a soft kiss to Michael’s check and closed his eyes.
To Be Continued.