A Matter of Taste (1/1)
Title: A Matter of Taste (1/1)
Fandom: Prison Break
Characters: Michael Scofield, Lincoln Burrows
Pairing: None
Genre: Gen, canon
Length: 200 words (a double drabble!)
Summary: Clothes may make the man, but personal taste is quite a different matter. Vague spoilers for "Manhunt", but that's it.
Rating: G
Author's Note: For the Clothes Make The Man (and Woman) challenge at pbhiatus_fic. It's just an odd little plotbunny that's been bouncing around for a while, so all concrit is very welcome. *g*
~*~
“So, which one of us did you buy the hat for?”
Michael looks at him as though he’s asked to be driven straight back to Fox River. “What hat?”
“That godawful hat you gave Sucre to wear.” Lincoln tugs at the collar of his business shirt. “All those clothes, you bought them for you and me, right?”
Michael darts a narrow gaze into the rearview mirror, then changes lanes. “Right.”
“Please tell me you didn’t buy that hat for me.”
His brother gives him an amused look, the first smile he’s seen on his face in hours. “You didn’t like it?”
Lincoln shakes his head at the memory of Sucre jamming the old-fashioned tweed cap onto his head. “No offence, man, but not even if I was eighty would I have worn that thing.”
“No offence taken.”
Lincoln studies his brother. He’s not sure, but he’d almost swear Michael used to have the exact same suit hanging in his closet at home. “Why the suits, man?”
“Makes it easier to blend into the crowd.”
They drive a while in silence, then Lincoln tries again, needing a distraction. “Well? Did you buy that hat for me?”
His brother grins. “Maybe.”
"Sonofabitch."
~*~
Fandom: Prison Break
Characters: Michael Scofield, Lincoln Burrows
Pairing: None
Genre: Gen, canon
Length: 200 words (a double drabble!)
Summary: Clothes may make the man, but personal taste is quite a different matter. Vague spoilers for "Manhunt", but that's it.
Rating: G
Author's Note: For the Clothes Make The Man (and Woman) challenge at pbhiatus_fic. It's just an odd little plotbunny that's been bouncing around for a while, so all concrit is very welcome. *g*
~*~
“So, which one of us did you buy the hat for?”
Michael looks at him as though he’s asked to be driven straight back to Fox River. “What hat?”
“That godawful hat you gave Sucre to wear.” Lincoln tugs at the collar of his business shirt. “All those clothes, you bought them for you and me, right?”
Michael darts a narrow gaze into the rearview mirror, then changes lanes. “Right.”
“Please tell me you didn’t buy that hat for me.”
His brother gives him an amused look, the first smile he’s seen on his face in hours. “You didn’t like it?”
Lincoln shakes his head at the memory of Sucre jamming the old-fashioned tweed cap onto his head. “No offence, man, but not even if I was eighty would I have worn that thing.”
“No offence taken.”
Lincoln studies his brother. He’s not sure, but he’d almost swear Michael used to have the exact same suit hanging in his closet at home. “Why the suits, man?”
“Makes it easier to blend into the crowd.”
They drive a while in silence, then Lincoln tries again, needing a distraction. “Well? Did you buy that hat for me?”
His brother grins. “Maybe.”
"Sonofabitch."
~*~