Fic: Storm Before the Calm

[interpretthis]

Title: Storm Before the Calm

Fandom: Prison Break
Rating: NC-17

Category: Slash

Pairings: Lincoln/Michael, Mahone/Michael

Summary: Alcohol causes problems.  Problems lead to…

Beta: shinyboot
Notes: My fic for the pbfic_exchange2.  Requested by foxriverinmate, who wanted post-escape, “toys of a sexual nature” (I flubbed - handcuffs are as far as the kink goes here), and a storm.  Will be cross-posted all over - pbslash, michaelxmahone, fichtner_fans,  wallporn and prison_breakfic.  Title snagged from John Mayer's "Slow Dancing in a Burning Room".

                Michael rolled his forehead along the cool glass of the car’s window, occasionally banging it oh-so-softly against the translucent pane.  Twenty minutes.  Twenty goddamn minutes of cheap beer in a cheap bar on the outskirts of Albuquerque had been all it had taken to lose his inhibition completely.  Lincoln had been taking a piss in the back.  Michael had been sitting at the bar, slowly losing his mind to the soft amber liquid.  Cell phones were dangerous toys, Michael had discovered.  Alcohol and Low-Latent Inhibition only added to the risk.

 

                “Mahone.”

 

                “Alex…talk to me.  I want to hear your voice.  It’s so sexy.  Makes me so hot.”

 

                “Michael?” There was a smile in the agent’s voice.  “You’re drunk.”

 

                Michael ignored him, plunging on.

 

                “Alex.  I want you in me.  You know that.  I think you want it too.  I want you to find me.”

 

                Alex responded with a laugh, but when he spoke next, his voice with thick with arousal.

 

                “I will find you Michael.”

 

Ten minutes later, in sauntered Special Agent Alexander Mahone, FBI, looking slightly more disheveled than usual and sporting a knowing glint in his eye.  Five minutes later, Michael and Lincoln were situated soundly in the back of the agent’s cruiser, cuffed and dejected.  Michael should have known.  Even through his drunken haze he should have realized his call would be traced.  Mahone was always on their tails.  In Michael’s mind.  And now, what had to be four, maybe five hours later, the three of them were taking a lovely drive down the highway.  Wonderful.  Michael didn’t know where they were going.  Back to jail?  Maybe.  Hell?  More likely.  He brought his head to the window with a bit more force this time.

 

                “Michael?” Mahone.  Michael could hear a chuckle in his voice.  “Don’t beat yourself up.  It had to have happened sooner or later.  I made a promise to you that day in Gila, and I keep my promises.”

 

                Michael squeezed the edge of the seat, his fingers going white.  He turned to Lincoln next to him, trying to convey his apology through his eyes.  I’m sorry, goddamn it.  I’m so damn sorry.

 

                Lincoln pulled Michael’s fingers away from their grip on the seat to squeeze them lightly in his own cuffed hands.  He leaned down to feign a whisper in Michael’s ear.  Michael could see Mahone watching them in the rearview mirror and averted his gaze.

 

                Instead of speaking, Lincoln let his tongue flick out to graze his brother’s ear, sending a warm shiver down the younger man’s spine.  Michael flushed, wondering again if Mahone had noticed.  He wondered why he cared. 

 

                Michael let his head fall back to the cool windowpane, his eyes trailing listlessly over the landscape outside.  Brown, spiky brambles clutched at the roiling, gray sky above.  A solitary raindrop slid down the pane, followed almost instantly by a score more.  Michael blinked as lightening forked through the pouring sky, a bright slice of white light, gone before he could really see it.  He heard Mahone reach out to turn the windshield wipers on, heard him swear just minutes later as the spray from a puddle scattered across the car, making it look as though it was partaking in a giant, drive-through carwash.

 

                “Where are we going?” Lincoln’s voice was gruff.

 

                “In this weather?  We’ll be stopping for the night as soon as possible.”

 

                Half an hour later, the rain was still pounding as hard as ever, unrelenting on the cruiser’s roof.  Mahone turned into a gravel driveway set into the woods and pulled up to a small green kiosk a few yards in.  Michael heard him ask for the most remote cabin, saw him slip a tall, lanky kid in a baseball cap an extra bill folded into the wad of money.  The kid grinned, dropping a blue key labeled “ten” into Mahone’s palm.

 

---

 

                The cabin was large, and more remote than Michael could have hoped.  Mahone brought the cruiser to a stop and let Michael and Lincoln out, marching them up to the porch, squelching through the mud.  He fitted the key into the lock easily and maneuvered the pair inside, flipping on the nearest light.

 

                The cabin held a comfortable woody smell and dulled the pounding of the rain until it was a mere muffled thump.  Mahone walked the pair up the stairs, turning into the large front bedroom and uncuffing them before flipping the cuffs onto his belt with one agile flick of the wrist. 

 

                “I’ll be in throughout the night to check on you.  I’m not about to take any shit at all from either of you.  If you pull something, it’ll be your asses on the line and no one else’s.  I’m not afraid to do what it takes to make you both unable to pull shit on anybody ever again.  You’re smart men.” He paused, his lips twitching slightly as he muttered something incoherent about alcohol.  He looked back up, eyes glittering with amusement.  “Use your brains and I won’t have to use…unnecessary force.”

 

                He stepped out with a soft chuckle, closing the door behind him.  Michael heard the lock click in the grove and turned to Lincoln, a muttered apology ready to fall from worry-bitten lips.  But the apology never made it out.  Lincoln’s eyes were black with desire.  His chiseled lips formed a snarl as he threw himself forward, crushing them to Michael’s soft red ones.  Lincoln pushed Michael into the bed’s footboard, his hungry lips working furiously, his tongue pillaging Michael’s mouth for all it was worth.  Michael gasped for breath, pulling at Lincoln’s collar, curling lithe, nimble fingers around his older brother’s thick neck to force him closer. 

 

                Lincoln growled, pushing Michael onto the bed and following closely, tearing his brother’s shirt at the buttons before pushing it off his shoulders in a rush to expose pale, silky white skin spidered with swirls of black ink.  All for him.  All for Lincoln.  It made him crazy with lust. 

 

                Lincoln slanted his lips across Michael’s cheek to snarl in his ear.

 

                “You’ve been a bad boy Michael.” Michael whimpered.  Lincoln pressed his hips to Michael’s, letting him feel his hard-on through their jeans.  Michael’s own erection met him full on.  “You like that, don’t you Michael?”

 

                Michael let out a moan, bucking his hips up in an effort to rub his aching, constrained cock again, craving the contact.  Lincoln maneuvered his hips out of the way, not ready to allow Michael the touch he needed.

 

                “You sweet on FBI?  You want him to fuck you instead of me?”  Lincoln bit Michael’s ear, then let his tongue trail out to lave at it.

 

                Michael’s head swam.  Small, breathy, wanton gasps escaped his parted lips in a blitz.

 

                “Who would you rather fuck, me or FBI?”  Lincoln’s teeth grazed down Michael’s pale column of a neck, leaving a long, red mark in their wake.

 

                “I want you to fuck me.”  Michael’s voice was strained, a low groan.  “Please.”

 

                Lincoln set his jaw, flipping Michael over in one swift movement.

 

                “Get on your hands and knees.”

 

                Michael obeyed quickly, pushing himself up off the bed.  He whimpered deep in his throat as Lincoln’s hands came around his waist to unbutton his jeans and jerk them off roughly.  Michael heard Lincoln shuck his own jeans, heard the rip of a condom.  He braced himself on his elbows, his bare milky ass facing upward, exercising every ounce of self control he possessed to keep from fisting himself into oblivion.  He moaned as Lincoln’s slick fingers slipped into his crack, readying him.  Lincoln positioned himself quickly before pushing inside roughly.  Michael cried out, his head falling back to let out one long, low moan of satisfaction.  Lincoln’s thick cock thrust in and out, brushing Michael’s prostate each time to send shivers of raw pleasure through the younger man. 

 

                “You like this, don’t you Mikey?” Lincoln’s voice was gruff with arousal.  Michael whimpered and squeezed his eyes shut.  “You’d rather have me fuck you than FBI?  Would you let him fuck you if I wanted to watch?  Would you suck him off?”

 

                Michael curled his fist into a ball and bit down on his white knuckles to keep from crying out.  He grabbed a hold of his swollen cock, stroking himself in time with Lincoln’s thrusts, imagining Alex fucking him as Lincoln watched, jerking himself off to the sight.  Michael felt the warmth pooling in his abdomen, spreading, bursting as he came, shooting the sheet and his hand with his slick come.  Lincoln’s own orgasm followed seconds later, filling him as he groaned and shook above Michael, gasping his satisfaction into Michael’s ear.  He fell to rest beside Michael, panting, utterly spent.

 

                The key turned in the lock seconds later, a grating of metal on metal.  Mahone walked in, shutting the door behind him.  Lincoln jerked the sheet up to cover Michael, glaring daggers at Mahone, who sat down in the chair next to the bed.  He looked unsurprised.  Michael flushed. 

 

                “What the fuck do you think you’re doing here?” Lincoln’s eyes were menacing.

 

                “Checking up.”  Mahone didn’t even make a move to hide his arousal, his eyes training on Michael, positively smoldering with invitation.  Michael hesitated, his eyes wide.  He looked silently to Lincoln for permission.  Lincoln looked from Mahone to Michael, his eyes guarded and wary, before nodding at his younger brother.  Michael jumped from the bed, still naked, to kneel in front of Alex.  Alex’s eyes sparked with wanton lust as Michael’s eyes met his own, a devious glint in them.  Michael’s deft fingers went immediately to Alex’s fly, slipping it down with a slow, trying pace, letting the older man’s cock spring free.  Michael smirked, reaching for the base, but Alex was faster.  He grabbed both of Michael’s wrists, refitting the handcuffs over them and snapping them shut with one dexterous move.  Michael was caught unawares, but a slow smile spread over his face with realization.  He heard Lincoln groan on the bed behind him, shifting his weight.

 

                “Kinky,” Michael’s voice was smooth, delighted.  He lowered his head to take the head of Alex’s cock into his mouth, swilling the precum with the tip of his tongue.  Alex moaned, letting his head fall back against the cabin wall.  Michael hummed and grinned, his lips curling into a smile around Alex’s erection.  He felt his own cock begin to harden at the agent’s lusty response and lifted his cuffed hands to trail eager fingers over aching, fiery balls.  He let one finger slip inside the agent, stretching the cuffs to their full extent to pump the base of his cock as well, the cool metal gliding against Alex’s inner thigh.  Michael could hear Lincoln groaning on the bed just feet behind him and knew he was touching himself.  He grew even harder, if possible. 

 

Michael let his tongue trail up the length of Alex’s cock, flitting across the slit at its head.  Alex drew in a sharp breath, his eyes falling shut in ecstasy, fingers gripping the arms of the chair tightly.

 

“I’ve waited so long for this Michael.” His voice was rough.  “I brought myself off in the car today after you called me.  I would have been there even sooner if I hadn’t been so fucking hard.  If you hadn’t made me so fucking hard.”

 

Michael moaned against Alex’s cock, taking it all the way into his mouth.  He heard Lincoln come just behind him, felt the warm spray of his brother’s seed splatter his left arm just as Alex gave an immense shudder, coming into Michael’s mouth with a groan.  Michael bucked his hips forward instinctively before lowering his cuffed hands to pull at his own cock.  He came instantly, falling against Alex’s knees.  The room fell silent, save for the labored panting of the men, spiraling down from their orgasms.  Michael noticed the storm for the first time since they had arrived, pounding the windows, rattling them harshly.  The occasional bolt of lightening jolted through the sky.

 

Alex slipped to the floor, pushed the chair away, slipped his arm around Michael’s shoulder and pulled him against his chest, leaning back against the wall.  Lincoln joined them silently, taking his place at Michael’s other side, gripping his brother’s hand.  The three of them watched as the storm raged outside the window, whipping trees around in the soft, comfortable darkness.  No one spoke.  They all had questions, but none of them seemed especially pressing at the moment.  They were safe from the storm for now.  Safe from the world.  With time, their eyes slipped shut one by one as each fell into a contented sleep.  What would come would come.  Tomorrow.

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Dear god yes - all three of them. Do I even have to start with that?! Yeah, I thought not. Thanks very much! :)