So I wrote fanfic.
No, not *that* fanfic. Although there will, indeed be more McShep-Eighties-AU coming along shortly. Also, if anyone has any title suggestions? Give them here. I was originally going to call it "The Boys Of Summer" after the Don Henley song, but someone else used it first. I don't like to feel as though I'm plagiarizing.
Here's what I wrote.
Title: Number One With A Bullet
Author: Redheaded Firecracker
Fandom: Prison Break
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Lincoln / Michael
Spoilers: none
Warnings: m/m slash, incest, underage sex
Summary: They’d always had each other.
They’d always had each other when they never had anyone else, and maybe that was something that should have seemed strange, but it wasn’t.
The first time they fooled around, Lincoln was seventeen and Michael was eleven.
Lincoln was a hulking brute, big for his body and his age and uncomfortable in his own skin.
Michael was a skinny kid, precocious and awkward, all knees and elbows and big eyes in his flushed face.
Lincoln remembers the surprise on Michael’s face as they touched each other, the startled sounds of pleasure and the shocked gasps as they each came, fingers twisted together around their hard cocks, first Michael and then Lincoln.
They didn’t speak of it again for four years.
The second time they fooled around, Lincoln was twenty-one and Michael had just turned sixteen.
Lincoln was old enough to know better, old enough to stop, and he *should* have stopped, but he just couldn’t.
Michael was still too thin, gangling and clumsy, but slowly becoming accustomed to the recent growth spurt that made him taller than his older brother, the same way a puppy grows into its paws.
Lincoln had topped out at about five-ten, and years of working out had put him more at ease with his own strength.
Still, he was careful with Michael, more careful than he’d ever been with anyone else, because for all of his maturity, Michael was more fragile than anyone Lincoln had ever known.
So when Lincoln closed his lips around Michael’s cock and watched through half-closed eyes as his brother broke apart beneath his mouth, he was gentle the way no one had ever been with him.
And when Michael returned the favor, scant minutes later, hesitant and delighted, Lincoln came harder and faster than ever before.
The night, two years later, that Michael slipped into Lincoln’s bed, slick and eager and ready, seemed like the natural denouement to something that had been building gradually to this point for so many years.
As if, perhaps, refusing to make love to his brother would have been more wrong than actually doing so.
The two of them, apart, felt more wrong than the two of them together.
And if Lincoln were honest with himself, he had to admit that he didn’t fight too hard against what he really wanted anyway.
Being inside Michael felt like coming home, because Michael was the only home Lincoln had ever known.
Lincoln has had a lot of time to think, and he thinks now that maybe, if he had just had the strength, the very first time, all those years ago, to turn Michael away, maybe they wouldn’t be where they are now.
Michael turns over and presses up against Lincoln, warm and solid and truly terrible in his devotion.
“No one else will ever love you like I do,” Michael promises, sleepy and intense, eyes gleaming in a vaguely frightening way. “We’ll always have each other.”
Lincoln strokes his brother’s cheek.
“I know.”
It’s all there is to say.
END
Here's what I wrote.
Title: Number One With A Bullet
Author: Redheaded Firecracker
Fandom: Prison Break
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Lincoln / Michael
Spoilers: none
Warnings: m/m slash, incest, underage sex
Summary: They’d always had each other.
They’d always had each other when they never had anyone else, and maybe that was something that should have seemed strange, but it wasn’t.
The first time they fooled around, Lincoln was seventeen and Michael was eleven.
Lincoln was a hulking brute, big for his body and his age and uncomfortable in his own skin.
Michael was a skinny kid, precocious and awkward, all knees and elbows and big eyes in his flushed face.
Lincoln remembers the surprise on Michael’s face as they touched each other, the startled sounds of pleasure and the shocked gasps as they each came, fingers twisted together around their hard cocks, first Michael and then Lincoln.
They didn’t speak of it again for four years.
The second time they fooled around, Lincoln was twenty-one and Michael had just turned sixteen.
Lincoln was old enough to know better, old enough to stop, and he *should* have stopped, but he just couldn’t.
Michael was still too thin, gangling and clumsy, but slowly becoming accustomed to the recent growth spurt that made him taller than his older brother, the same way a puppy grows into its paws.
Lincoln had topped out at about five-ten, and years of working out had put him more at ease with his own strength.
Still, he was careful with Michael, more careful than he’d ever been with anyone else, because for all of his maturity, Michael was more fragile than anyone Lincoln had ever known.
So when Lincoln closed his lips around Michael’s cock and watched through half-closed eyes as his brother broke apart beneath his mouth, he was gentle the way no one had ever been with him.
And when Michael returned the favor, scant minutes later, hesitant and delighted, Lincoln came harder and faster than ever before.
The night, two years later, that Michael slipped into Lincoln’s bed, slick and eager and ready, seemed like the natural denouement to something that had been building gradually to this point for so many years.
As if, perhaps, refusing to make love to his brother would have been more wrong than actually doing so.
The two of them, apart, felt more wrong than the two of them together.
And if Lincoln were honest with himself, he had to admit that he didn’t fight too hard against what he really wanted anyway.
Being inside Michael felt like coming home, because Michael was the only home Lincoln had ever known.
Lincoln has had a lot of time to think, and he thinks now that maybe, if he had just had the strength, the very first time, all those years ago, to turn Michael away, maybe they wouldn’t be where they are now.
Michael turns over and presses up against Lincoln, warm and solid and truly terrible in his devotion.
“No one else will ever love you like I do,” Michael promises, sleepy and intense, eyes gleaming in a vaguely frightening way. “We’ll always have each other.”
Lincoln strokes his brother’s cheek.
“I know.”
It’s all there is to say.
END