Fic: Remember
Title:Remember
Author:etherealflaim
Rating:PG
Category:Slash, (slightly) AU
Fandom:Prison Break
Characters:Michael/Sucre
Summary:Michael cashes in a favor with Pope.
Warning:If you don't like slash, don't read this. Also, I don't own either of these awesome guys.
Author's Notes:Fic #3 for foxriver_fic February challenge:
- Prompt: #1 - moonlight and a melody
- Pairing: SLASH: Michael/Sucre (AU - they meet before Fox River)
He couldn't remember the last time he had even seen the stars.
Normally, the prisoners were kept inside at night. Obviously, it would be far too difficult to keep track of them outside in the dark. Michael, apparently, was above such petty restrictions.
"So, papi, how did you manage to score a ticket out here tonight? I thought Bellick had something bad up his sleeve with that grin on his face when he came to get us after count," Sucre asked the stars.
Michael laughed quietly, and Sucre felt his heart pull a little in the direction of his cellmate. "I told you I was building the Taj for Pope, right? Well, he gave it to his wife today. She loved it, and he asked me if there was anything he could do for me. I asked him if I could have some unsupervised time outside with you."
"Unsupervised?" Sucre asked, looking up at the lit infirmary windows, behind which Bellick stood with a grin on his face.
"I didn't say he granted my entire request." Michael's mouth turns up slightly at the obviousness of this answer, but continues. "Bellick won't talk, though. He knows that the Pope will fire him in a second if he says anything about this."
Sucre paused for a second to appreciate how well Michael Scoffield could manipulate people. He was so trusting, and so trustworthy. It boggled the mind how a man like that could end up here, using his extraordinary powers of intellect for such a futile endeavour.
They walked on in silence, enjoying each other's company for some time before Michael broke the silence.
"Do you remember?" he asked.
Sucre's head fell. He had wondered for some time whether or not his tatooed cell-mate had made the connection from so long ago. It seemed silly now to have entertained the possibiliy that he hadn't.
"I do, papi." he answered, looking up sheepishly at Michael's face in an attempt to read the other's reaction.
"Don't look at me like that, Sucre." Michael reached out his hand and cupped the side of the Puerto Rican's neck, lightly tracing his thumb against the mocha skin briefly before removing his hand to his shoulder and pulling his friend in for a hug. "I waited for you at the bar every night for a month, but you never came back."
Sucre closed his arms as tightly as he could, holding them closer than they had ever allowed themselves to be in front of the other prisoners. "I wanted to come back. I really did. I was just too scared to ad--"
Michael's velvet kiss against his lips punctuated the excuse before it finished. "It's okay. You had a girlfriend. You had your cross. You had your vying friends. There was never any place for me in that."
Sucre smiled, and allowed himself to be guided backward up against the fence. As Michael's confident, slow kiss descended on his neck, he remembered everything he had wanted so desperately to forget. How willingly Michael's lips had parted under his own in the uncomfortable booth at the back corner of the bar. How many times the bartender had rapped his fingers on the dirty table in front of them to remind them it's time to stop cuddling and get the hell out of my bar. How they both laughed every time a Cher song came on the juke box and there was a collective groan throught the bar. How desperately he had wanted Michael to invite him back to his apartment, and how scared he was of what he'd answer. How they had never even told each other their names. How he had whispered "I love you" and shocked himself by how true it was. How, when Michael finally asked to bring him home, he had suddenly remembered that he had forgotten to turn off his oven.
And how every night since then he had regretted it, and longed for this moment. Longed to be standing with Michael's lips pressed against his, his satin tongue unlocking every hidden facet of desire. He knew then that after their escape the following day, he and Michael would go their separate ways... Michael had his brother to take care of, and he did still love Maricruz.
But he would be leaving his heart behind again, right here in the moonlight.
EULA: By reading this fic, you agree to the below terms and conditions:
If you enjoy it and have enough time, you should comment and let the author know how much you enjoyed it! If you didn't, you should take the time to tell the author why. If you read it and have absolutely anything to say, the author would greatly appreciate your feedback.
- Prompt: #1 - moonlight and a melody
- Pairing: SLASH: Michael/Sucre (AU - they meet before Fox River)
He couldn't remember the last time he had even seen the stars.
Normally, the prisoners were kept inside at night. Obviously, it would be far too difficult to keep track of them outside in the dark. Michael, apparently, was above such petty restrictions.
"So, papi, how did you manage to score a ticket out here tonight? I thought Bellick had something bad up his sleeve with that grin on his face when he came to get us after count," Sucre asked the stars.
Michael laughed quietly, and Sucre felt his heart pull a little in the direction of his cellmate. "I told you I was building the Taj for Pope, right? Well, he gave it to his wife today. She loved it, and he asked me if there was anything he could do for me. I asked him if I could have some unsupervised time outside with you."
"Unsupervised?" Sucre asked, looking up at the lit infirmary windows, behind which Bellick stood with a grin on his face.
"I didn't say he granted my entire request." Michael's mouth turns up slightly at the obviousness of this answer, but continues. "Bellick won't talk, though. He knows that the Pope will fire him in a second if he says anything about this."
Sucre paused for a second to appreciate how well Michael Scoffield could manipulate people. He was so trusting, and so trustworthy. It boggled the mind how a man like that could end up here, using his extraordinary powers of intellect for such a futile endeavour.
They walked on in silence, enjoying each other's company for some time before Michael broke the silence.
"Do you remember?" he asked.
Sucre's head fell. He had wondered for some time whether or not his tatooed cell-mate had made the connection from so long ago. It seemed silly now to have entertained the possibiliy that he hadn't.
"I do, papi." he answered, looking up sheepishly at Michael's face in an attempt to read the other's reaction.
"Don't look at me like that, Sucre." Michael reached out his hand and cupped the side of the Puerto Rican's neck, lightly tracing his thumb against the mocha skin briefly before removing his hand to his shoulder and pulling his friend in for a hug. "I waited for you at the bar every night for a month, but you never came back."
Sucre closed his arms as tightly as he could, holding them closer than they had ever allowed themselves to be in front of the other prisoners. "I wanted to come back. I really did. I was just too scared to ad--"
Michael's velvet kiss against his lips punctuated the excuse before it finished. "It's okay. You had a girlfriend. You had your cross. You had your vying friends. There was never any place for me in that."
Sucre smiled, and allowed himself to be guided backward up against the fence. As Michael's confident, slow kiss descended on his neck, he remembered everything he had wanted so desperately to forget. How willingly Michael's lips had parted under his own in the uncomfortable booth at the back corner of the bar. How many times the bartender had rapped his fingers on the dirty table in front of them to remind them it's time to stop cuddling and get the hell out of my bar. How they both laughed every time a Cher song came on the juke box and there was a collective groan throught the bar. How desperately he had wanted Michael to invite him back to his apartment, and how scared he was of what he'd answer. How they had never even told each other their names. How he had whispered "I love you" and shocked himself by how true it was. How, when Michael finally asked to bring him home, he had suddenly remembered that he had forgotten to turn off his oven.
And how every night since then he had regretted it, and longed for this moment. Longed to be standing with Michael's lips pressed against his, his satin tongue unlocking every hidden facet of desire. He knew then that after their escape the following day, he and Michael would go their separate ways... Michael had his brother to take care of, and he did still love Maricruz.
But he would be leaving his heart behind again, right here in the moonlight.
EULA: By reading this fic, you agree to the below terms and conditions:
If you enjoy it and have enough time, you should comment and let the author know how much you enjoyed it! If you didn't, you should take the time to tell the author why. If you read it and have absolutely anything to say, the author would greatly appreciate your feedback.