"Hold My Hands Down"
Title: "Hold My Hands Down"
Author: ariesjen
Fandom: Prison Break
Person/Pairing: Michael Scofield/Fernando Sucre
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1,860
Summary: Despite still having no clear idea how to handle his situation with T-Bag, Michael smiled for the first time in two months.
Warnings: AU/Profanity/Serious Slash Porn.
Notes: This became too long for the Drabble Challenges, so this is basically written for abmo using the scofield_sucre & the sweet_as_sucre Drabble Writing Challenges prompt 'hold my hands down'. This is also a continuation to "You're Not Alone" in my What You Owe series.
Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters nor do I have any affiliation with the show or its’ network. This was written for entertainment purposes only.
The jingle of keys and heavy boot steps made Sucre jump up and pull himself up into the upper bunk while Michael simply swung his legs back into bed and tossed the covers over his body.
Despite still having no clear idea how to handle his situation with T-Bag, Michael smiled for the first time in two months. His smile was brief, wiping it away and feigning sleep as the guard on duty stopped at their cell, pausing to check inside.
With Sucre lightly snoring in the top bunk and Michael breathing softly in the bottom bunk, the guard seemed satisfied, moving on, his keys jingling against his thigh as he walked.
Sucre waited until the jingling and boot steps were faint before he climbed down and sat on the edge of Michael’s bed. “So.”
Michael turned his head to look at Sucre. “So.”
Michael should have been taken aback with surprise when Sucre leaned over and kissed him, but he was concentrating on the sensation of Sucre’s mouth on his; lips slightly chapped, yet still soft and warm against Michael’s, reminding him of Janie Gibbons, the first girl who had kissed him back in elementary school.
Michael cupped Sucre’s cheek, his tongue sliding out and licking at Sucre’s lips, faintly tasting mint toothpaste before he slid it completely in Sucre’s mouth, feeling Sucre do the same to him.
Sucre placed his hand on Michael’s chest, his finger brushing against Michael’s nipple through his thin t-shirt. Feeling it begin to harden at the touch, he ran his fingers over it and around it, deftly teasing it further.
He kissed his way towards Michael’s jaw, licking and kissing a path across his throat and feeling the new stubble that was growing before rising back up and kissing Michael’s lips.
Michael’s hands roamed over Sucre’s back, lifting up his shirt and running his hands over Sucre’s skin, his hands gently dipping below the waistband of Sucre’s boxers and feeling the curve of his ass. He felt Sucre groan into his mouth before he relinquished the kiss.
“Let me feel your tattoos.” Sucre whispered, lightly kissing Michael’s chin.
With one move, Michael rolled Sucre onto his back and sat back on his legs. Grabbing the bottom of his t-shirt, he lifted it over his head and let it fall to the floor. He took Sucre’s hands and ran them over his chest, over his nipples and down his stomach.
Sucre followed suit, slipping off his shirt and tossing it next to Michael’s on the floor.
Michael nestled in between Sucre’s legs, rocking his hips and feeling his cock growing harder against Sucre’s groin. He closed his eyes, letting out a soft moan when Sucre’s hands traveled past his waistband and settled on the curve of his ass, squeezing gently as Sucre began grinding under him, his own erection pressing against Michael.
Feeling desperate, Michael sped up his pace, grinding faster and feeling his orgasm rising up in the pit of his stomach.
“Come here, Papi,” Sucre said, grabbing Michael by the back of the neck and bringing him down for a brief kiss before pushing Michael off of him.
“Wha-?” Michael reached down, slipping his hand in his boxers and stroking himself.
“Stop.” Sucre commanded.
“S-Sucre, please,” Michael pleaded, but stopped stroking himself. He pulled his hand out and rubbed his thigh.
“Lay down,” Sucre directed, lifting his hips up and slipping his boxers off and dropping them off to the floor before turning his attention to Michael.
Michael lay on his back, whimpering when Sucre slid his boxers off and his erection sprung free.
Sucre bent down, nuzzling his cheek against Michael’s thigh before kissing it.
“Let me taste you, baby.” Sucre licked a stripe up the underside of Michael’s cock.
Michael gasped, his legs shaking and his hands clutching at the sheets as Sucre licked another slow path up his cock, this time on the side. His hips bucked up, brushing against Sucre’s cheek.
“You like that, baby?” Sucre asked, licking his lips. “Can I taste you again?”
“Y-yes,” Michael gasped, his eyes closed and half-chewing his bottom lip in anticipation. “Please.”
“Last time,” Sucre said before licking up the other side and engulfing it into his mouth, sucking on the head and letting it slide out slick.
Michael writhed, struggling to keep the loud moan buried in his throat. “Sucre...fuck.” He growled.
Sucre crawled up, kissing a path up Michael’s torso until he settled at his neck. “You taste so good, baby.” Sucre whispered in Michael’s ear, gripping Michael’s pillow as he strained to ignore his own straining erection begging for action. He licked the edge of Michael’s ear, sucking on the lobe.
“Do you want me to suck you off?” Michael offered, practically begging as he wiggled underneath Sucre.
Sucre shuddered at the thought of Michael’s mouth wrapped around him. “No,” he said. “I want you to get on all fours.” Sucre rose up, sitting on his legs.
Hesitating for a moment, Michael turned around on his hands and knees, biting his lower lip in nervousness. “Sucre…”
“Don’t worry,” Sucre said as he got of the bed and reached inside his pillow. He pulled out a small tube of lube and two condoms. He went over to the toilet and unrolled some toilet paper. Michael watched, amazed.
“Where’d you get those?”
“I know a guy who knows a guy. He snuck it in for me.” Sucre ripped open the package, rolled the condom on and slicked himself with a generous amount of lube. He handed the other condom to Michael.
“Did you plan this?” Michael asked, ripping open and rolling on his own condom. He watched Sucre lube up a finger.
“What? Fucking you? Nah. I planned on using it on myself. The condom was so I didn’t have to be on the toilet all the time jerking it.”
“And what was the lube for?”
“So I could imagine I was making love to Maricruz. Now bend over and face front.”
Before Michael could ask another question, he felt something slide between his cheeks and poke his entrance. He hissed and bit his lip when he felt it enter him and burn.
“Relax, papi.” Sucre planted kisses up Michael’s spine, reaching around with his other hand and playing with Michael’s nipples.
Michael concentrated on relaxing and not on Sucre’s finger up his ass.
“Relax.”
Michael felt his muscles relaxing and before long, he got used to two and three fingers.
“Good.” Sucre took the toilet paper and wiped his fingers off.
Michael glanced back over his shoulder towards the cell bars. “What if we get seen? Don’t you want to put up the sheet?”
“Let ‘em enjoy the show,” Sucre groaned as he positioned himself behind Michael, grasping his cock and guiding it in gently.
Michael gasped at the intrusion, biting his lip and burying his face into his pillow to groan loudly as his muscles clenched around Sucre.
Sucre closed his eyes, enveloped in a heat around his cock he hadn’t felt since his last conjugal visit. He fought the urge to thrust forward until he felt Michael relax. “You gonna relax for me?”
Michael clenched his eyes shut, willing himself to relax. When he did, he felt Sucre slide in more. He grunted, opening his legs more and feeling his cock twitch.
“That’s it, baby.” Sucre reached around, wrapping his hand around Michael’s cock and stroking it slowly. He slid in and out Michael at his hand’s pace, letting Michael become used to the sensation. “You like that?”
“Y-yeah.” Michael grunted, breathing into his pillow and pressing his hips back into Sucre. “Go faster.”
Sucre didn’t need to be told twice. He sped up, both his hand and his thrusts. He could feel his orgasm coming, building in his stomach as he pumped Michael.
Michael buried his face in his pillow, moaning. Every time Sucre hit a certain spot, he bucked his hips backwards to get Sucre deeper, keeping his face in his pillow to keep from yelling out.
“Wait,” Sucre said, pulling out of Michael.
“What? Why’d you stop?” Michael hissed frantically.
“Wanna see you come. Turn around.” Sucre grabbed Michael by his hip and turned him onto his back. He lifted Michael’s legs over his shoulders and lifted his hips, sliding his cock back into him with a grunt and quick thrust. “Let me see you come, baby.” He held Michael by his hips, speeding up his thrusts and making the bed springs squeak rhythmically.
Whimpering with need, Michael fisted his cock, biting his lower lip and letting out little moans here and there. He was past caring whether anyone - inmate or guard - heard or saw Sucre fucking him into the mattress. He didn’t even care if Lincoln or T-Bag saw them. He closed his eyes, feeling his orgasm build and build.
“Sucre…oh fuck, Sucre…”
Sucre leaned over, grabbing Michael by his wrists and holding them down to the bed. Sucre pumped faster, moaning in Michael’s ear as he resumed fisting Michael’s cock.
“Do I feel good to you, baby?” Sucre’s breath was ragged in his ear.
“Y-yes.” Michael reached down and squeezed Sucre’s ass, feeling it clench with every thrust.
“Tell me I feel good.”
“Y-you feel so fucking good, baby!” Michael’s back arched up as he came, his hips bucking up as he felt it ripple through his body.
“FUCK!” Sucre came with a shudder, gently grinding against Michael as he filled his condom. He rose up and let Michael’s legs fall off his shoulders. He collapsed completely on top of Michael and kissed him, wiggling his hips.
“So much for keeping your reputation intact,” Michael smirked. “I told you should have put up the sheet.”
“All the noise you were making, we would have been found out anyway.” Sucre laughed as he slid out of Michael and, sitting on his legs, unrolled his condom, tying it off and unrolling Michael’s, tying his off before tossing them both - as well as the tissue - into the trash, burying both condoms under the crumpled sheets of paper. He slid back into bed with Michael, laying his arm around his waist and feeling the need for sleep overtaking him.
“You were the one screwing me into the mattress, knowing full well its’ tendency to squeak.” Michael turned to look at Sucre, a relaxed smile refusing to leave his face.
“You could have stopped me.” Sucre yawned, slowly drifting off to sleep. “I bet T-Bag’ll leave you alone now.”
Chuckling, Michael closed his eyes, though not to sleep. His mind raced. Had they been particularly loud? Michael was grateful no one had replaced the blown bulb in front of their cell, so seeing inside wasn’t a problem. But what if this got back to T-Bag?
The mere thought of his name brought a fear inside him.
“One of these days,” T-Bag had whispered during their last encounter. “I’m gonna use more than your mouth.”
If what happened between he and Sucre did get back to T-Bag, Michael doubted there would be much he could do to save himself, let alone find a way out of their arrangement.
The End.
© 2008
Author: ariesjen
Fandom: Prison Break
Person/Pairing: Michael Scofield/Fernando Sucre
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1,860
Summary: Despite still having no clear idea how to handle his situation with T-Bag, Michael smiled for the first time in two months.
Warnings: AU/Profanity/Serious Slash Porn.
Notes: This became too long for the Drabble Challenges, so this is basically written for abmo using the scofield_sucre & the sweet_as_sucre Drabble Writing Challenges prompt 'hold my hands down'. This is also a continuation to "You're Not Alone" in my What You Owe series.
Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters nor do I have any affiliation with the show or its’ network. This was written for entertainment purposes only.
The jingle of keys and heavy boot steps made Sucre jump up and pull himself up into the upper bunk while Michael simply swung his legs back into bed and tossed the covers over his body.
Despite still having no clear idea how to handle his situation with T-Bag, Michael smiled for the first time in two months. His smile was brief, wiping it away and feigning sleep as the guard on duty stopped at their cell, pausing to check inside.
With Sucre lightly snoring in the top bunk and Michael breathing softly in the bottom bunk, the guard seemed satisfied, moving on, his keys jingling against his thigh as he walked.
Sucre waited until the jingling and boot steps were faint before he climbed down and sat on the edge of Michael’s bed. “So.”
Michael turned his head to look at Sucre. “So.”
Michael should have been taken aback with surprise when Sucre leaned over and kissed him, but he was concentrating on the sensation of Sucre’s mouth on his; lips slightly chapped, yet still soft and warm against Michael’s, reminding him of Janie Gibbons, the first girl who had kissed him back in elementary school.
Michael cupped Sucre’s cheek, his tongue sliding out and licking at Sucre’s lips, faintly tasting mint toothpaste before he slid it completely in Sucre’s mouth, feeling Sucre do the same to him.
Sucre placed his hand on Michael’s chest, his finger brushing against Michael’s nipple through his thin t-shirt. Feeling it begin to harden at the touch, he ran his fingers over it and around it, deftly teasing it further.
He kissed his way towards Michael’s jaw, licking and kissing a path across his throat and feeling the new stubble that was growing before rising back up and kissing Michael’s lips.
Michael’s hands roamed over Sucre’s back, lifting up his shirt and running his hands over Sucre’s skin, his hands gently dipping below the waistband of Sucre’s boxers and feeling the curve of his ass. He felt Sucre groan into his mouth before he relinquished the kiss.
“Let me feel your tattoos.” Sucre whispered, lightly kissing Michael’s chin.
With one move, Michael rolled Sucre onto his back and sat back on his legs. Grabbing the bottom of his t-shirt, he lifted it over his head and let it fall to the floor. He took Sucre’s hands and ran them over his chest, over his nipples and down his stomach.
Sucre followed suit, slipping off his shirt and tossing it next to Michael’s on the floor.
Michael nestled in between Sucre’s legs, rocking his hips and feeling his cock growing harder against Sucre’s groin. He closed his eyes, letting out a soft moan when Sucre’s hands traveled past his waistband and settled on the curve of his ass, squeezing gently as Sucre began grinding under him, his own erection pressing against Michael.
Feeling desperate, Michael sped up his pace, grinding faster and feeling his orgasm rising up in the pit of his stomach.
“Come here, Papi,” Sucre said, grabbing Michael by the back of the neck and bringing him down for a brief kiss before pushing Michael off of him.
“Wha-?” Michael reached down, slipping his hand in his boxers and stroking himself.
“Stop.” Sucre commanded.
“S-Sucre, please,” Michael pleaded, but stopped stroking himself. He pulled his hand out and rubbed his thigh.
“Lay down,” Sucre directed, lifting his hips up and slipping his boxers off and dropping them off to the floor before turning his attention to Michael.
Michael lay on his back, whimpering when Sucre slid his boxers off and his erection sprung free.
Sucre bent down, nuzzling his cheek against Michael’s thigh before kissing it.
“Let me taste you, baby.” Sucre licked a stripe up the underside of Michael’s cock.
Michael gasped, his legs shaking and his hands clutching at the sheets as Sucre licked another slow path up his cock, this time on the side. His hips bucked up, brushing against Sucre’s cheek.
“You like that, baby?” Sucre asked, licking his lips. “Can I taste you again?”
“Y-yes,” Michael gasped, his eyes closed and half-chewing his bottom lip in anticipation. “Please.”
“Last time,” Sucre said before licking up the other side and engulfing it into his mouth, sucking on the head and letting it slide out slick.
Michael writhed, struggling to keep the loud moan buried in his throat. “Sucre...fuck.” He growled.
Sucre crawled up, kissing a path up Michael’s torso until he settled at his neck. “You taste so good, baby.” Sucre whispered in Michael’s ear, gripping Michael’s pillow as he strained to ignore his own straining erection begging for action. He licked the edge of Michael’s ear, sucking on the lobe.
“Do you want me to suck you off?” Michael offered, practically begging as he wiggled underneath Sucre.
Sucre shuddered at the thought of Michael’s mouth wrapped around him. “No,” he said. “I want you to get on all fours.” Sucre rose up, sitting on his legs.
Hesitating for a moment, Michael turned around on his hands and knees, biting his lower lip in nervousness. “Sucre…”
“Don’t worry,” Sucre said as he got of the bed and reached inside his pillow. He pulled out a small tube of lube and two condoms. He went over to the toilet and unrolled some toilet paper. Michael watched, amazed.
“Where’d you get those?”
“I know a guy who knows a guy. He snuck it in for me.” Sucre ripped open the package, rolled the condom on and slicked himself with a generous amount of lube. He handed the other condom to Michael.
“Did you plan this?” Michael asked, ripping open and rolling on his own condom. He watched Sucre lube up a finger.
“What? Fucking you? Nah. I planned on using it on myself. The condom was so I didn’t have to be on the toilet all the time jerking it.”
“And what was the lube for?”
“So I could imagine I was making love to Maricruz. Now bend over and face front.”
Before Michael could ask another question, he felt something slide between his cheeks and poke his entrance. He hissed and bit his lip when he felt it enter him and burn.
“Relax, papi.” Sucre planted kisses up Michael’s spine, reaching around with his other hand and playing with Michael’s nipples.
Michael concentrated on relaxing and not on Sucre’s finger up his ass.
“Relax.”
Michael felt his muscles relaxing and before long, he got used to two and three fingers.
“Good.” Sucre took the toilet paper and wiped his fingers off.
Michael glanced back over his shoulder towards the cell bars. “What if we get seen? Don’t you want to put up the sheet?”
“Let ‘em enjoy the show,” Sucre groaned as he positioned himself behind Michael, grasping his cock and guiding it in gently.
Michael gasped at the intrusion, biting his lip and burying his face into his pillow to groan loudly as his muscles clenched around Sucre.
Sucre closed his eyes, enveloped in a heat around his cock he hadn’t felt since his last conjugal visit. He fought the urge to thrust forward until he felt Michael relax. “You gonna relax for me?”
Michael clenched his eyes shut, willing himself to relax. When he did, he felt Sucre slide in more. He grunted, opening his legs more and feeling his cock twitch.
“That’s it, baby.” Sucre reached around, wrapping his hand around Michael’s cock and stroking it slowly. He slid in and out Michael at his hand’s pace, letting Michael become used to the sensation. “You like that?”
“Y-yeah.” Michael grunted, breathing into his pillow and pressing his hips back into Sucre. “Go faster.”
Sucre didn’t need to be told twice. He sped up, both his hand and his thrusts. He could feel his orgasm coming, building in his stomach as he pumped Michael.
Michael buried his face in his pillow, moaning. Every time Sucre hit a certain spot, he bucked his hips backwards to get Sucre deeper, keeping his face in his pillow to keep from yelling out.
“Wait,” Sucre said, pulling out of Michael.
“What? Why’d you stop?” Michael hissed frantically.
“Wanna see you come. Turn around.” Sucre grabbed Michael by his hip and turned him onto his back. He lifted Michael’s legs over his shoulders and lifted his hips, sliding his cock back into him with a grunt and quick thrust. “Let me see you come, baby.” He held Michael by his hips, speeding up his thrusts and making the bed springs squeak rhythmically.
Whimpering with need, Michael fisted his cock, biting his lower lip and letting out little moans here and there. He was past caring whether anyone - inmate or guard - heard or saw Sucre fucking him into the mattress. He didn’t even care if Lincoln or T-Bag saw them. He closed his eyes, feeling his orgasm build and build.
“Sucre…oh fuck, Sucre…”
Sucre leaned over, grabbing Michael by his wrists and holding them down to the bed. Sucre pumped faster, moaning in Michael’s ear as he resumed fisting Michael’s cock.
“Do I feel good to you, baby?” Sucre’s breath was ragged in his ear.
“Y-yes.” Michael reached down and squeezed Sucre’s ass, feeling it clench with every thrust.
“Tell me I feel good.”
“Y-you feel so fucking good, baby!” Michael’s back arched up as he came, his hips bucking up as he felt it ripple through his body.
“FUCK!” Sucre came with a shudder, gently grinding against Michael as he filled his condom. He rose up and let Michael’s legs fall off his shoulders. He collapsed completely on top of Michael and kissed him, wiggling his hips.
“So much for keeping your reputation intact,” Michael smirked. “I told you should have put up the sheet.”
“All the noise you were making, we would have been found out anyway.” Sucre laughed as he slid out of Michael and, sitting on his legs, unrolled his condom, tying it off and unrolling Michael’s, tying his off before tossing them both - as well as the tissue - into the trash, burying both condoms under the crumpled sheets of paper. He slid back into bed with Michael, laying his arm around his waist and feeling the need for sleep overtaking him.
“You were the one screwing me into the mattress, knowing full well its’ tendency to squeak.” Michael turned to look at Sucre, a relaxed smile refusing to leave his face.
“You could have stopped me.” Sucre yawned, slowly drifting off to sleep. “I bet T-Bag’ll leave you alone now.”
Chuckling, Michael closed his eyes, though not to sleep. His mind raced. Had they been particularly loud? Michael was grateful no one had replaced the blown bulb in front of their cell, so seeing inside wasn’t a problem. But what if this got back to T-Bag?
The mere thought of his name brought a fear inside him.
“One of these days,” T-Bag had whispered during their last encounter. “I’m gonna use more than your mouth.”
If what happened between he and Sucre did get back to T-Bag, Michael doubted there would be much he could do to save himself, let alone find a way out of their arrangement.
The End.
© 2008