Fic: Cellie

[serafina20]

Title: Cellie
Author: serafina20
Rating: Mature
Pairing: Michael/Mahone
Summary: Four months into his sentence for the murder of Oscar Shales, Alexander Mahone gets a new cellie.



"You know what would be awesome?" Michael said as he tossed the Frisbee to Alex.

The toss was a little off, and Alex had to jog a few steps to catch it. "What?" he asked. He returned the toss and adjusted his sunglasses.

The wind caught the Frisbee, sending it high. Michael had to leap to catch it, his body lithe and flexible in the afternoon sun. The shirt of his scrubs rode up, revealing his stomach. Alex found his eyes drawn to it and had to control the impulse to rush Michael, drop to his knees, and lick the tantalizing skin.

Michael landed and grinned. The grin lit up his face in a way Alex hadn't seen since before the attack. It warmed him and he couldn't help but return the smile.

"Kites."

"What?" Alex couldn't remember what they were taking about.

"Kites. It'd be awesome if we could have kites." He threw the Frisbee back. "I love flying kites."

"Really?" The Frisbee slapped into his hand and was returned with a quick flick of his wrist. "Why?"

Michael shrugged. "There's something relaxing about it. Once you get them up. When they're high up there and you're lying back on the grass, looking at them. It's just... they're free, you know?"

His toss went wide. Alex jumped after it, missed. Jogged to where it landed and back. "But they're on strings. Tethered."

"Yeah, well. Sometimes, the illusion in enough I guess." He caught the Frisbee. Held it, feeding it through his hands. "My mom used to take me to the park. A lot. I mean, you know. When she had the day off."

"Oh?" Alex walked over to Michael. Stopped in front of him, too close, but it's not like they'd ever fooled anyone anyway.

Michael nodded. "Those days, we'd wake up early. Walk to Dunkin' Donuts and we'd all get one. Linc and me would get milk and my mom would get coffee. Then we'd go to the park. Lincoln would wolf down his food so he could go play, but I couldn't do anything else until I got the kite in the air."

"Not even eat."

"Nope. I had to fly the kite. Sometimes it would take almost twenty minutes, but it didn't matter. Nothing was right until it was up there. Flying free." Michael smiled. "I had a Superman kite that I loved. And once it was in the sky, everything just seemed perfect."

He reached out and rubbed Michael's arm. "How long since you've flown a kite?"

He shook his head. Shrugged. "Uh, few years. Grown men flying kites aren't, you know." He shrugged again. "Unless it's one of those souped up racing type kites, but those aren't the same. Life already moves to fast for me. I just want something up."

"I'm sure Cameron would love you to take him kite flying."

Michael gave him that look. The, 'by the time we get out of here, Cameron will be in college,' look that Alex hated so much. At least this time he didn't have to hear the words. Michael just pulled away. "Gonna catch it?" he asked and he tossed the Frisbee.

Laughing, Alex ran after it. He had to dodge through a few other inmates as the Frisbee cut through the air uninhibited. It finally arced lazily down and landed on the grass. He picked it up and threw it back.

"You cheated," Michael called. "You were supposed to bring it back."

"What? We're playing fetch back?"

"It'll give you a good workout."

"Then why don't I throw and you fetch."

He shook his head. "That doesn't work for me."

"That doesn't work for you?" Alex laughed.

"I only run for important reasons. Like if someone has ice cream. From the law. That sort of thing."

"So, you're more of a cat than a dog, is that what you're telling me?"

Michael caught the Frisbee. "I generally think of myself as a human, but whatever turns you on."

"No, I mean, dogs fetch. Cats are too good for that. And fussy." The Frisbee snagged on his fingertips. "And beautiful."

"Such a charmer."

He tossed it back. "Seriously, though. Let's say we were out and decided to get one. A pet. What would you rater have, a cat or a dog?"

Michael bit his lip and titled his head. A thoughtful expression came over his face. And then a more serious one. He stayed silent for four more back-and-forths of the Frisbee.

"It's not that hard of a question," Alex finally said, worried. "And you can say both if you want."

He nodded. Tossed the Frisbee. Still took his time thinking.

This was wrong. Michael was thinking way too hard about his. It was just supposed to be some lighthearted, easy question. One Alex had asked on hundreds of dates when he was younger. Never had he had anyone think about it this hard.

"Michael?"

"Um. I don't know. I guess. Cat?"

"You don't sound too sure about that."

He shrugged. Held out his hands fore the Frisbee, but Alex wasn't throwing it to him. Everything was suddenly wrong: the light, the air, the breeze. Michael.

Michael sighed. "It's just. Dogs are big. And sloppy. They chew on things and drool. They get hair everywhere. They dig holes and they push you down. Sometimes they lick you, but sometimes they bite. And they smell. But cats shed, too. And they claw thing. The litter box is disgusting. The male cats spray and sometimes they drool. When you pet them, they smell. But, I guess that problem s averted if you get a female. And they are cuddly. Much neater than dogs. So. Cat."

Alex nodded. Frowned. Something wasn't right with Michael's answer. He just wasn't sure what. It'd taken too long to come up with for one thing. And Michael wasn't meeting his eyes. He was tugging on the hem of his scrubs, scratching lightly at the flakey, dried out blisters of his rash. Twitchy. Jittery.

So what was it? It was a good answer as far as Alex was concerned. Dogs were a mess, even the little ones. He couldn't get used to the smell and he hated picking up dog crap. Yes, they were loyal, but they were a hassle. While cats...

He blinked, a sudden realization hitting him. Michael's reasons weren't similar to Alex's for preferring cats over dogs; they were Alex's reasons.

"Were you trying to figure out what I'd say?" he asked.

"No," Michael said immediately, his cheeks flushing guiltily.

"You were." And it makes him so incredibly sad. Michael loved him and trusted him, but even Alex wasn't enough to undo years of damage. Years of Michael having to answer questions correctly or risk being sent away. Sent back to foster care or exiled or rejected by those who were supposed to take care of him.

And yet, at he same time, it infuriated him. Because he wanted to be enough. He wanted Michael to know that when Alex asked a question, he didn't expect a specific answer. That Michael could say whatever he liked and Alex would still love him.

He crossed the distance between them and shoved him backwards. "Goddamn it, Michael! I just asked a stupid, inconsequential question for fun. I don't give a flying fuck which you prefer, just tell me what *you* think. I know what I think."

Michael blinked, eyes huge and fearful. "I..."

Alex grabbed his shirt. Yanked him close. "Michael. When are you going to trust me?"

"I do."

"No, you don't. We're out here, playing around, I ask a stupid question, and you turn it into this big deal."

"No, you turn it into his big deal. You're the one throwing a fit. You're the one manhandling me." Michael pulled Alex's hands off him and stepped away. "A lot of my foster parents had dogs. And those dogs hated me. You know? Barked me into corners or into closets. In this one house, I didn't even have a bed. I had to sleep in the dog bed while the dog took mine. As for cats." Michael shrugged. "They're okay. Never had one, but they seem nice. I hate litter boxes, though. Freak out when I get near them. It's just... disgusting." Michael licked his lips. "I like birds."

"Birds?"

"Yeah." He smiled. "Like parakeets. Little birds you keep in a cage. And you can let them fly around inside. They're cute."

Alex shook his head. Smiled. "Birds."

"Yeah. I had some in my first apartment. Two. Pinky and the Brain." He grinned. "When I'd go to class, I'd leave a CD on for them. A few times, I taped them, because they would sing along." His face fell suddenly. "The tape got lost back when I was clearing the loft. I was going to save it, but..."

Alex rubbed his knuckles over Michael's cheek. "I know it's not the same, but we can get a couple birds. Tape them singing."

"That'd be nice." He licked his lips, leaning into the touch. "We could get a cat, too. As long as we don't let the birds out while its in the room." Michael gasped as Alex's fingers teased his earlobe. "Just don't make me clean the litter box."

"Never." He traced his fingers down the column of Michael's neck. He couldn't help but sway closer, wetting his lips as he did.

"Alex..."

"Hey! Loverboys!" a CO shouted. "Why don't you..." He was cut off by a loud electronic tone. It blasted three times, signaling everyone back in side double time.

Alex glanced at the chain link fence a few yards away. Between the special needs yard and the yard for Gen pop was a pathway and a partial building blocking the view. They had different yard times to prevent those in Gen Pop from screaming at the people who been transferred to get away from them. There were guards, though, running down the path, barking into walkie-talkies and definite movement over near the Gen Pop building.

"Scofield, Mahone. You deaf? Move it!"

"What's do you think is going?" Michael asked. He grabbed Alex's hand and tugged him toward the building.

Alex turned away, allowing Michael to lead him as he walked backwards. He was looking at the towers, watching the guards inside. Started when the rumbling of vehicles sounded, jeeps tearing down the path to the entrance. "A break?" He looked back up at the tower. "Or maybe something with the computers."

"Finally," Simms said when they made it inside. He took the Frisbee from Michael and whapped him on the head with it.

"Prison brutality," Michael protested.

Simms smiled. "We're on lockdown. Go line up outside your cell for count."

"What's going on?" asked Alex.

"A problem. Go line up." He smacked Michael on the bottom with the Frisbee and handed it to Alex. "Oh, and I'd stop holding hands. Travis has been in his cell crying all morning and you're in prison, not on vacation."

Alex tightened his grip on Michael's hand momentarily before he let it go.

"Maybe there was another riot," Michael suggested.

"I don't know that they'd put us on lockdown for that. They didn't last time."

"I thought they did. For the duration of it. Then we came off early because we're the good prisoners."

Alex, inspired by Simms, lightly thwaped Michael on the bottom as they entered the cell block.

"What?" Michael looked at him, blinking his doe eyes innocently. "We are good."

"Mmm. I don't know about that. You strike me as someone with a naughty streak."

They took their place on the line outside their cell. It was a few minutes before all the inmates were assembled, and even then the guards just sort of milled around talking to one another.

Alex glanced down the line to Travis. The kid did look like he'd been crying all morning, his eyes red and swollen, face blotchy. He wanted to go and talk to him, comfort him. Tell him that they were okay.

Except they really weren't. Alex had yet to talk to O'Connell about mediating for them, and he wasn't ready to face the kid alone. He didn't trust him.

"I almost feel bad for being jealous of him," Michael murmured. He turned away so his back was to Travis and looked passed Alex, deceptively casual. "I thought he was well adjusted. Happy. I guess I was wrong."

"It had to happen sometime." He brushed his fingers along the inside skin of Michael's wrist.

Michael shivered. His pupils dilated, eyes suddenly dark. "Could you not?" he whispered. He moistened his lips with the tip of his tongue.

Alex's heart picked up speed. His skin flushed, the air growing too warm. He wanted to drag Michael into their cell, but the fucking guards were still milling around with their thumbs up their asses. "Michael..."

"All right, listen up!" a guard shouted suddenly. "We're going on partial lockdown the rest of the day. No classes, no more yard time. We'll take you in shifts to dinner and showers. Go into your cells and behave."

"What's going on, boss?" Randall asked.

"None of you business, con. Move it."

"Boss," Alex heard O'Connell say as he and Michael headed into the cells. "A word?"

Michael hung back, looking at O'Connell. Alex wrapped his hand around Michael's wrist and tugged him inside. The sheet was down before the bars were even shut, but Alex didn't care. He had Michael against the bunk hands at Michael's neck while he hungrily devoured Michael's mouth. Tongue thrusting inside the hot, sweet mouth, tasting, stroking, playing.

"Alex," Michael gasped, breaking apart. His hands were scrabbling at Alex's clothes, pulling at his shirt, seeking skin. "I'm all scaly. Gross."

"No." He licked down Michael's neck, sucking and biting at the soft, smooth skin. "It's fine. You're fine."

"I'm disgusting."

"No, you're not." He pushed Michael's shirt up and fell to his knees. "Off," he ordered as his hands dropped to Michael's hips. He pressed his face against the blue-ink decorated stomach. Licked along the lines and patterns. Dropped a small scattering of kisses down his stomach. Slid his fingers underneath the elastic of Michael's scrubs and underwear. Glanced up.

Michael was panting, chest heaving with each breath. His head titled back, rested against the upper mattress. Eyes closed, lashes fanned over his cheeks. His mouth worked, soft words, little gasps. Arms thrown out on either side of him, digging into the blankets, arms trembling.

Slowly, Alex pulled Michael's pants and underwear down. Over lean thighs that Alex had to kiss as he followed the receding fabric. Nuzzling adorable kneecaps and nibbling at shins. Urging Michael to lift his feet, step out of the garments, leaving him almost completely naked.

Alex kissed up Michael's leg. As he did, he let his hand idly trace patterns on the inside of Michael's thigh.

"Oh, God," Michael whispered.

"You okay?" He reached the juncture of Michael's thigh. Licked along the crease, drawing a moan from Michael.

"Fine," Michael whispered. Then he bit his lower lip, eyes squeezed tight, face scrunched.

"Relax." Alex pressed a soothing kiss against his skin. Then he turned his attention to Michael's cock.

He wasn't quite hard yet. Not completely limp, definitely interested. But Ale was going to have to work a bit.

No problem.

Alex wrapped his fingers around Michael's cock. Stroked in short, gentle movements. Base to tips, just his fingers. Caressed hot, silky skin, feeling blood rush to the member. Filling it. Hardening.

His heart picked up speed. Sounded in his ears. He's stroked Michael off before. Had experience. Stroked himself off numerous time.

Today was time for something new.

Swallowing back nervousness--Michael was part psychic and Alex didn't want him internalizing any of Alex's hesitation--Alex leaned forward. Took the head of Michael's cock in his mouth. Sucked.

Michael groaned. His hand went into his mouth, and he bit his fist.

So far, so good.

He pulled off the head. Licked. Head. Side. Other side. Up and down. Twirling around it. Down at the base. All the way up, drawing another strangled noise from Michael. He slid his mouth over Michael, sucking. Medium pressure, as much as he could take.

It was different. Different from going down on a woman. Hard and pulsing and filling. His hand was wrapped around the base of Michael's cock, and he stroked in twisting movements in time with the suction. Warm and salty with an almost metal tang.

And above him, Michael gasped and groaned. His hips twisted and jerked. His face bunched up and he was completely at Alex's mercy. Lost in sensation as Alex toyed with him. Caressed that silky flesh with his tongue. Teased the tender flesh in the juncture, trailing it down to fondle Michael's balls. Over Michael's perineum and back. Over his hip and stomach.

Alex pulled off Michael's cock. Rose slightly to nuzzle at his stomach again. Pressed a series of open, wet kisses over sweaty skin. Stroked Michael's cock, twisting his wrist.

"Alex," Michael gasped. "I'm too... I'm gonna..." His stomach tightened.

"Just relax, Michael. Give in." He moved back to take Michael in mouth. Licked first. Again. Dropped kisses over Michael's cock. Took it in again, sliding deeper. Deeper. Almost gagging, but he breathed through his nose, tried to relax and...

"Gah." Michael grunted. His back arched. He came. Hot spurts of spunk filled Alex's mouth.

He choked. Pulled away, trying to control the urge to spit. Swallowed what he had. Felt more hit him in the cheek, sticky-slick and hot.

Michael was trembling. Legs shook hard and gave out. He slumped to the floor, head lolling on the bed.

Alex wiped his cheek on his shirt. Leaned in and caught Michael's mouth in a gentle kiss.

It was returned languidly, Michael's mouth moving slowly. His eyes were half-lidded, a smile on his face.

"First time?" he mumbled. "Really?"

"Yeah." Alex kissed his jaw, trailed down to his chin. "Was I good?"

Michael nodded. His eyes shut, then jerked open. "Yeah." They shut again.

"Let's get you to bed," Alex said, realizing Michael was out of it. "Up." He slid his hands underneath Michael's arms. Heaved him onto the bed, getting no help from Michael at all. "Roll over."

Michael inhaled sharply. Opened his eyes again. "What? Huh?"

Alex climbed next to him. Pushed him gently, nudging him over on the bed.

"You didn't..." Michael's hand flopped loosely at Alex's hip. "I can," he started, but he trailed off with a soft snore.

He laughed. Kissed Michael's neck. Wrapped his arms around him. "Don't worry about," he said. "You can return the favor later." He kissed Michael again, feeling securely smug. Not only had he done a good job for his first time sucking another man off, but this was the most relaxed Michael had been in, well, forever. Not bad for a days work in his opinion.

Alex snuggled next to Michael, kissed his shoulder, despite it being the blister-scab-scaled covered one. Closed his eyes and breathed him in. He could feel muscles in his own shoulders unknotting, a feeling of languorous relaxation overtaking him.

Thank God for whatever had caused the lockdown. When he found out what had, Alex would be sure to send flowers.