Prison Break Slash Fic: "None So Blind" (Michael/Lincoln, PG-13)
Title: None So Blind
Author: HalfshellVenus
Characters: Michael/Lincoln (Slash)
Rating: PG-13
Summary (Pre-Series to S2): Someone might be getting used, but which of them is it?
Author's Notes: An Australian Flood Auction story for clair_de_lune. This one's a little dark and tortured, but I hope that's okay.
Also for fanfic100, this is Dark
x-x-x-x-x
If Lincoln was fire, then Michael was the river that soothed him, calming him all through the long drive to Utah whenever freedom and adrenaline kicked off the return of Lincoln's unquenchable inferno of need.
It was an old pattern, as well-worn as the restless teenaged frustration that had started it, all those years ago. Ten years later, sometimes even the slightest thing could wind up setting it off.
Letting off steam-that's what they called it. It sounded so much better than bending your brother over the table and fucking him so hard that you both finally forgot the quadrant of the rising sun.
In the beginning, Lincoln had always been distant afterwards. Racked with remorse, he'd shot out the door and wandered the streets until he knew Michael would have already gone to bed.
"Stay," Michael whispered one day. He had no other words for the tsunami of emotions inside him, only the knowledge that he wanted to keep Lincoln close, no matter what form that took.
A hard-won lifetime later, Lincoln still hadn't realized that Michael had never been doing him any favors.
The heated kisses (they'd crossed that line half a lifetime ago) hadn't made him see it, and neither did the looks Michael gave him on lonely roads or in the late hours of the bleakest nights. Instead, Michael was stuck waiting for those rare moments when Lincoln burned with such need that there was no chance he'd ever escape that slow, inevitable loss of control.
For all of Lincoln's blindness to just how badly Michael wanted him, he was also incredibly consistent.
After ten years of repeating the same stubborn steps of denial, Lincoln had also never noticed how often-and how expertly-Michael fed his frustrations and then just kept pushing until the two of them went right over the edge.
-------- fin --------
Author: HalfshellVenus
Characters: Michael/Lincoln (Slash)
Rating: PG-13
Summary (Pre-Series to S2): Someone might be getting used, but which of them is it?
Author's Notes: An Australian Flood Auction story for clair_de_lune. This one's a little dark and tortured, but I hope that's okay.
Also for fanfic100, this is Dark
x-x-x-x-x
If Lincoln was fire, then Michael was the river that soothed him, calming him all through the long drive to Utah whenever freedom and adrenaline kicked off the return of Lincoln's unquenchable inferno of need.
It was an old pattern, as well-worn as the restless teenaged frustration that had started it, all those years ago. Ten years later, sometimes even the slightest thing could wind up setting it off.
Letting off steam-that's what they called it. It sounded so much better than bending your brother over the table and fucking him so hard that you both finally forgot the quadrant of the rising sun.
In the beginning, Lincoln had always been distant afterwards. Racked with remorse, he'd shot out the door and wandered the streets until he knew Michael would have already gone to bed.
"Stay," Michael whispered one day. He had no other words for the tsunami of emotions inside him, only the knowledge that he wanted to keep Lincoln close, no matter what form that took.
A hard-won lifetime later, Lincoln still hadn't realized that Michael had never been doing him any favors.
The heated kisses (they'd crossed that line half a lifetime ago) hadn't made him see it, and neither did the looks Michael gave him on lonely roads or in the late hours of the bleakest nights. Instead, Michael was stuck waiting for those rare moments when Lincoln burned with such need that there was no chance he'd ever escape that slow, inevitable loss of control.
For all of Lincoln's blindness to just how badly Michael wanted him, he was also incredibly consistent.
After ten years of repeating the same stubborn steps of denial, Lincoln had also never noticed how often-and how expertly-Michael fed his frustrations and then just kept pushing until the two of them went right over the edge.
-------- fin --------