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serafina20Fic: Sona
Rating: Mature
Pairing: Michael/Mahone
Summary: Just another day in paradise for Michael and Alex.
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24, Part 25, Part 26, Part 27, Part 28, Part 29, Part 30, Part 31
Alex woke the next morning to find Tony curled on one side of him, snoring, and Michael, stiff as a board, staring at the ceiling on the other. Unusual. Tony usually slept next to Michael. Well. Curled up against his side, using Michael like a human teddy bear, drooling on his shoulder. But Michael, not him.
Also, Michael was usually asleep when Alex woke up. And after he'd been crawling through the other side of the prison all night, he needed the sleep more than Alex did.
He swallowed, trying to work moisture into his throat. "How'd it go last night?"
"Good. Fine. We need you tonight, though. Lots to do." He sat up and leaned against the wall. "How do you feel?"
Alex shrugged and sat up as well. "Okay, I guess. Better." He leaned over Michael to snag a bottle of water off the floor. "I'll no better once I've eaten. Do you know when breakfast is?"
Michael checked his wrist, which was devoid of a watch, then shrugged, making a face. "Soon, I think. But, here. We sort of hit the mother lode last night." He handed Alex a chocolate bar.
The growl that he made when he snatched the candy from Michael was embarrassing, but he couldn't help it. It was an honest to God candy bar. Chocolate. After days of fried crap and soggy crap, it was ambrosia.
"You don't have to gobble it. There's a lot more where it came from."
Alex raised an eyebrow at him, chewing.
"We found a storeroom or something," he said, voice low. "Under the first level is another one. Not as big, maybe about six cells put together. There's food, those packaged meals they eat in the army, water, and candy bars. Enough to survive for quite awhile. We just need something to carry them in."
"And a way out." He took another sip of water.
Michael grinned at him. Leaned closer. "Someone already started tunneling out of there. They had to stop because they were bracing it properly, but I know how to do it. We can get out."
"By digging?"
He nodded.
Alex sighed. Closed his eyes. "We're going to need something to dig with. Raoul have any spoons in his stash?"
"Some. We might be able to scramble up some shovels and stuff. They didn't clear anything out of that other side."
"You really think we can just dig our way out of here? It's a little… cinematic."
"What? You don't like movies?"
He opened his eyes and gave Michael a lopsided smile. "I have no desire to play Red to your Dufresne."
"I have no desire to be Andy Dufrense." He leaned in and kissed Alex. "Too dangerous. That's why I have you, right?" He moved in again.
Alex pulled away. "Michael."
"Alex, please." There was a note of desperation in Michael's voice, an undercurrent that hadn't been there before. Shaky and unhinged. His eyes were wide, sort of wild.
He still pulled away. Took another bite of his candy bar, finishing it off. "What's wrong?"
"What? Nothing. I just… nothing." He moved away from Alex. Hesitated. Licked his lips, then crawled off the mattress. "Nothing."
Alex watched him, frowning. Something was wrong, and Michael was the king of secrets when he wanted to be.
That was something Alex hadn't thought about before. As long as he fucked Michael, gave Michael what he wanted, he was happy. Relaxed. Open and more willing to share.
Cutting him off might keep them both safe from one another in the long run. Keep Michael from thinking he was falling in love with Alex, from thinking that his future with Sara was over.
Keep Alex from getting too used to feeling Michael's body against his and those sweet moans from ringing in his ears. From…
In the long run, it'd be safer. But in the short run, it put Michael on the defensive. Made it too easy for him to shut down, not share what he was thinking. Or what was wrong.
He rubbed his eyes. His head hurt. "Did something happen last night?"
"What do you mean?" Michael was across the cell now, digging through a bag and pulling out spoons.
"You seem a little distant. And Tony was cuddling me instead of you."
A furrow appeared on Michael's forehead. "Yeah. I don't know. He just crawled over to you when we came back last night. Didn't say why."
"Did you get in a fight?"
"No. He was a little bored at first, but once we started exploring it was fine. And he was happy when we found the candy."
"I don't blame him." Alex licked his fingers, searching for any hint of chocolate. "What about after that?"
Michael's cheeks turned red. He shrugged. "Nothing. We showered."
"Michael, Michael, Michael. Did you and our dear, sweet boy play around in the shower?" He grinned, anticipating the usual joy of needling the other man.
Michael merely blushed harder and shrugged. "You should go outside today. Get some fresh air. Sun."
The alarm for breakfast went off. Next to him, Tony groaned and rolled over.
"No get up," he moaned, pulling the thin sheet over his head.
Alex laughed. Rubbed Tony's back. "You want us to get you breakfast?"
"Chocolate."
"Maybe later. We'll get something healthy."
There was a snort under the blanket.
He laughed again, then leaned over and placed a kiss on the back of Tony's exposed neck. "Okay, so we'll get you something greasy, fried and only vaguely resembling edible food."
Tony rolled onto his back and gave Alex a sleepy smile. "You better?"
"Yeah. I'm better." He stroked his hand over Tony's hair, then ran his thumb across his forehead. "Okay. You going to stay and sleep?"
"Si. I tired."
"I am tired," he corrected.
Brown eyes rolled. "I am tired," he repeated. Then he rolled back onto his side and curled into a ball.
"So, we're on our own for breakfast," said Alex, turning back to Michael.
Who was giving him a look that seared Alex through. He couldn't quite decipher it: part hunger, part jealousy, part longing and all tinged with that frantic desperation that had been part of him all morning. His face was pale, yet strangely flushed, like he was overheated, and his hands were clenched tightly against his thighs.
What the hell?
"Let's join the throng," Alex suggested. He pulled his shoes on, then crossed the cell to Michael, who hadn't moved except to turn his head away from Alex.
When Alex brushed his fingers over Michael's neck, the other man inhaled sharply.
"You coming?"
"Yeah," Michael said, voice strangled. He pushed himself to his feet and fell a half-step behind Alex, trailing him.
"Michael! Alex," Felipe greeted them. Another man was with him, his cellmate presumably.
Michael hesitated behind him, step faltering. When Alex glanced back, he saw Felipe had clapped his hand on Michael's shoulder.
"Felipe," Alex said mildly. He wrapped his hand around Michael's wrist and gave a slight tug.
Felipe got the message and immediately lifted his hands off Michael's shoulder. "You feeling better today, Alex? You don't look sick like you did yesterday."
"Yes. I must have had the twenty-four hour Sona bug."
The other man gave him an confused look. Apparently, while he spoke English, some expressions weren't as well known. Alex just shrugged and shook it off.
"Anyway, this is Fernando. He doesn't speak English good, but he wants you to know that he's open to trade whatever for his drugs. Well, not whatever, but…" He glanced at Michael.
"No." Alex turned and began dragging Michael down the hall.
"Wait. Wait! Not just him. He'll take the kid, instead. Either one."
Alex rounded on Felipe. Backed him against the wall, in his face. "Touch the kid, touch Michael, and I'll slice off your dick and feed it to you. Got it?"
Felipe nodded. "Si. Si, we got it."
He pulled away, but Felipe grabbed him by the shirt. "We'll take whatever. Food, money, soap. Everyone knows Raoul had everything, and you guys took a bunch. And Michael has someone visiting him. He can bring in stuff from the outside."
"We don't want drugs."
The other man smirked. "I know a junkie when I see him, man. Maybe you're on a clean kick right now, but a few more days like yesterday, and you'll want something to tide you over. Just want to let you know, we're open to doing business with you."
Alex kneed him in the groin. "I'd get that looked at. Come on." He grabbed Michael's wrist again and stalked off.
Michael followed behind, slowly twisting his wrist in Alex's grip. Alex let him, opening his hand enough to allow movement, feeling skin against the palm of his hand.
And then, Michael opened his Goddamn mouth and ruined the moment.
"You know, since you're not bothering to take me, you might as well start pimping me out. Get some use out of me."
He rounded on Michael in an instant. Pushed him through a crowd of men. Michael turned away from the punch, moving with it. Stumbled back and hit the wall.
There were a few laughs and a couple of catcalls, but the men around them didn't rally or allow themselves to be drawn into a riot. Michael and Alex were recognized now, and the sight of someone disciplining his property wasn't exactly unusual around here.
Michael was smirking at him as Alex shoved him into the wall. Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth, a puffy bruise forming where Alex's fist had made contact.
"What the fuck is up with you?" Alex demanded in a hiss.
"I don't know what you mean, Alex." And there was that fucking impersonal tone Michael did so well. Those veiled eyes, the masked face. Except…. Except…
His pupils were blown and there were tremors running under his skin.
Alex forced himself to open his hand so he didn't punch Michael again. Instead, he put it around Michael's throat. Squeezed lightly.
Michael closed his eyes. Shuddered.
"What. The fuck. Is going on with you?"
"Nothing."
"I swear to God, if you say that one more time, I'm…"
"You'll what?" Michael's eyes snapped open. "You'll make me sleep in the corner? You'll ignore me? You'll do something else that makes us both miserable for our own good to prevent me from falling in love with you? What, Alex? What are you going to do?"
He clenched his jaw. "You have got to get over this. We had a couple of good fucks and now…"
"It's more than that and you know it." Michael fisted Alex's shirt. Shoved, turning them so he had Alex pinned to the wall, arm heavy across his chest. "It's more than that," he whispered, breath hot on Alex's skin. "It started long before we even spoke. In the cemetery. In the warehouse. On the phone. It's more than physical and it always has been. And you know what I think?"
"No, Michael, I…"
Michael bit his ear, shutting him up. "I think that you're the one using Sara as an excuse. You want me to hang everything on her, to be devoted to something that's never going to happen so you can pretend that you're not falling in love with me."
With that, Michael shoved Alex away from him.
Alex stumbled back, falling into someone. When he looked back up, Michael was gone.
He shook his head. Rubbed at his temple, headache pounding even harder.
"Well," a voice drawled in his ear.
Alex leapt away from the voice, revulsion crawling over his skin. He turned to find T-Bag, grinning at him like a Cheshire Cat.
"Wasn't that interesting? Seems your boy is a bit frustrated, sexual wise." He licked his lips. "I wonder which of us is gonna take care of that problem first."
"T-Bag," he said, stepping forward as menacingly as he could. "Don't you dare…"
His reflexes were slow, but he caught T-Bag's wrist just before the sharp glass shard slid into his stomach. As it was, the tip punctured the skin and slid along his stomach, tearing open flesh, as he fought T-Bag's arm.
Alex gasped in pain. Backhanded T-Bag across the face with his free hand.
He fell away from Alex, glass shard falling to the floor. Alex picked it up first, then delivered a swift kick to T-Bag's knees. "Stay away from Michael."
He got a sharks-grin in return. "I don't take orders, especially not from you. And believe me, the way you're denying that boy, got him all tied up in knots? He'll be coming to me, not the other way around." He licked his lips. Looked down Alex's torso. "I warned him. Warned him that your experience with your pants around your ankles, Guillermo's' cock in your ass would put you off, but he didn't listen. Guess he will now. Boy needs a man to take care of him, not a used up pussy." With that, he pushed himself to his feet and hobbled off.
Alex just watched him, feeling his shirt growing damp with blood.
Well. Shit.
* * *
Michael couldn't breathe.
He pushed through people walking to the mess blindly, seeking air, seeking… something. He didn't even know at this point. Everything was wrong. It was so, so wrong and he didn't know what to do. How to fix it.
He didn't even understand exactly what was wrong or when it had gone so wrong. Just that it was.
All night, sleep eluded him. He and Tony had returned from the empty wing. Michael had felt as if his skin were moving, a prickling sensation all up and down his body. Heat pooled in his groin, flooded through him as he laid on the mattress next to Alex. Tony had avoided his touch, avoided him. He was obviously upset about something, and Michael didn't know what was wrong. How to fix it.
Not that his brain was working. It was clouded by lust. By the memory of Tony's water-slick skin under his. The soft mouth against, tongue in his mouth, against his.
Water had always been one of Michael's weaknesses. He'd seduced a lot of people, slept with them to keep them happy. The times he'd enjoyed best were when they'd both been wet, in a shower or pool. There was just something about the feel of wet, wet skin against his own, so many different sensations added onto the experience. He could lose himself in it.
Tony pulling away, while heartening in the abstract, was frustrating in the concrete. Worse, the person Michael really wanted would hardly even touch him.
He knew he overreacted about their fight, but, hell, that was their relationship. They fought and came to a truce, an understanding, and then fought again. He and Alex were too alike and too different and while in the real world they might be able to make it work, here there were two options: fuck and fight.
Alex had taken one option away. And Michael knew he was right about the reason. There was only one reason Alex wouldn't sleep with him anymore. Why he kept throwing Sara at his face. If Michael was falling for Alex, then the reverse was true.
Michael stumbled outside. The heavy, humid air was a slap against his face. He inhaled, soupy oxygen sliding into his lungs wetly. It was hardly any relief, but it was air and it didn't smell as sharply of piss as it did inside. In the center of the yard was a man cooking something over a metal trash can. He went over and, after a brief discussion with the man before trading a chocolate bar for the meat thing that was being cooked.
It was actually a lot better than the crap they were handing out in the mess. Michael had finished it before he found a seat under something that wished it was a tree and was valiantly casting a faint shadow on the ground.
He sighed. Let his head rest against the wanna be tree. Wished he knew what to do. This obsession with Alex was getting him nowhere. This was why he didn't do relationships. Didn't let himself get emotionally involved. When he did, he obsessed. Got distracted, unfocused. Sara had distracted him in prison somewhat, but it'd been manageable. There, it was just his head, just his emotions. This… Alex had everything. He had Michael completely enthralled, hopelessly addicted, and then…
Just cut him off.
Maybe it was revenge for not letting him do drugs. Effective. Michael was still right, and this punishment was completely unjustified. But, it was effective.
He just wish he knew what he'd done to make Tony angry at him. Or whatever had happened that made Tony pull away. Okay, yes, he was sixteen years old and Michael knew he had absolutely no right to touch one hair on Tony's head. Except in a non-sexual, cuddly way because Tony needed that. But he had no right to demand or except or even want sex from him.
And yet, having him pull away after getting Michael twisted into knots was kind of hard to take.
He closed his eyes, feeling a headache pressing at his forehead. He pulled his knees to his chest and pressed his head against them.
"Scofield. Vist..," a voice over the loudspeaker garbled, dying halfway through the word.
Assuming Lincoln had come early that day, Michael pushed himself to his feet and trudged to the visitor's yard. He really wasn't up to seeing Lincoln right now. He felt like crap, what with his skin being too small and his heart beating too fast and this… this hunger burning in his belly that had nothing to do with food.
He was so twisted around, so lost in his mind, that he was almost to the fence before the face he was seeing on the other side of the chain links registered.
Everything stopped: his breath, his mind, his heart. Everything. Except his feet, his traitorous feet, which forced him forward, stumbling in the dirt. He tripped. Caught himself on the fence.
Words rushed into his throat and became stuck. Too many and he couldn't breathe, couldn't think. He just shook his head, holding onto the fence, traffic jam of words in his mouth and something pressing behind his eyes and… No. No.
"Michael, I'm sorry," Sara said. Her voice was low, even. Hands half raised, palms out at her chest. "I'm sorry. I know you don't want me here, and I was going to honor your wishes, but something's happened and I had to come."
He got a breath in. Sharp. Loud. Painful. He swayed unsteadily on his feet.
"Okay, Michael, can you sit for me? Please? Just sit, okay. Down here." She lowered herself into a sitting position in front of the gate, eyes on him. "Just sit down, no problem. Everything is fine, we're just sitting." Her movements were slow and combined with the cadence of her voice, Michael felt himself respond. Felt his heart start again. Air come more easily.
He sat. Fell, the impact on the ground harder than he expected, jolting his brain in his skull. "What's wrong?"
"It's okay," Sara said. She offered him a smile. "Yesterday after Lincoln saw you, he went to the American Embassy again. They want to help, they do, but there's a problem. Lincoln's in the country illegally, and even though he's been exonerated back home, that doesn't change the fact that he's here without a passport or permission."
"Lincoln…"
"He's fine. He's still there and they said they'll try to work it out without him having to leave. In light of your arrest and everything. But it's going to take a few days, and I didn't want you to feel abandoned."
Michael shook his head. He couldn't look at her.
Sara sighed. "I brought some stuff for you. The guard has the bag. Toothbrushes, toothpaste. Soap, towels. I brought a safety razor, but they took it out. I wasn't sure what else you might need."
"Um." He cleared his throat. Tugged at his fingers. "Um, maybe liniment or something? We've all got a lot of bruises and the mattresses are really thing."
"Okay." Relief colored her voices, like just the fact he was speaking in complete sentences to her was a victory of some kind. "Okay, I'll see what I can do. Maybe some lotion or something? Your hands look rough."
He glanced at them. They were rough. Fingers red and raw from clawing at the walls. The backs of his hands scraped, skin torn off, scratches everywhere else.
"Sure. Whatever." He rubbed the back of his neck, then tugged the index finger of his right hand. "You paying them?"
"Like twenty bucks. It's nothing. Really."
A pause. Michael scratched at the inside of his wrist. Cute poison. The formula for the corrosive that ate through the pipe under the infirmary.
Sara Tancredi. The doctor he'd flirted with while in said infirmary. Partly because he needed to for his plan, partly out of his habit of flirting with everyone in order to more easily manipulate them when needed, and partly because, once he started, he found her genuinely attractive. And after the escape, when Bellick had told him of her overdose, he'd called to assure her that it had been real.
And it had. But now…
"Michael. Michael, are you okay?"
He shook his head. Dragged his fingers up his arm, pain burning.
"I'm sorry you ended up in here. And if I could trade places with you, I would. I can. I…"
"No." He licked his lips. "Consider it a parting gift."
"Michael, please. I…"
"I'm sleeping with Alexander Mahone."
Another silence.
"I'm. I'm sorry?"
He glanced up at her. Looked away before he could meet her eyes. Focused on her knee. "I'm sleeping with Alex." Licked his lips. "Or, I was, until he decided I was falling in love with him and now he won't sleep with me. But that doesn't stop him from touching me or looking at me. Oh, he'll do that, but the minute I try to reciprocate, he's all, 'Oh, Michael, it's too dangerous,' or whatever."
"Oh. So. You're… what? Bisexual?"
"No."
She laughed, but it wasn't a happy laugh. One of those laughs people give when they can't quite believe what they're hearing. "No?"
He shook his head. Dug his fingers into his arm. "No. Yes. I don't know." Another glance up, then he focused on her shoulder. "I'm not gay. I'm not straight. I don't think about it because usually, I just sleep with people to get them to back off. Or if I want something from them. But you and Alex and…. I don't know." He pressed his fingers into his eyes.
"Okay. It's fine, Michael. It's fine. I can't even begin to imagine what you're going through. The stress you're under. So, if you've turned to Mahone for comfort, I can't really say anything." She put her hand on the fence. "What do you mean, he thinks it's dangerous?"
"Because I said I didn't want to be with you. Try to make it work after… And he's convinced that it's because I'm falling in love with him."
"Are you?"
"No. I don't know. I don't know anything except I want out, I want not to be raped by T-Bag or Raoul or anyone else, and I want Alex."
"Michael, are you all right? Because you look like hell. You look like you've been hurt really badly, and I have to know if you're okay."
He closed his eyes. Let out a long breath. "Yeah. Yeah, I think I am." He forced himself to look up at her. Still couldn't meet her eyes, but it was closer. "It was rough at first. But Alex and I have our own cell now. A reputation. He and I fight sometimes, but he wouldn't hurt me."
"This is the same man who wanted to kill you."
A smile curled his lips. "Yeah, well. It wasn't personal."
She laughed. "I know Lincoln was rather adamant that he wouldn't help Alex get out, but, well. I don't like the look of this place. And I do trust your judgment."
"I can't leave Tony."
"The boy? Does he have a last name?"
Michael swore. "I'll find out." He swallowed. "We may, uh. Have a way to, uh. Help ourselves. Out."
Sara nodded. "Well. Don't get caught. And keep us informed."
"Are you angry with me?"
"Michael, look at me. Please."
He closed his eyes. Clenched his jaw, then forced himself to meet her eyes.
They shone with compassion and love and understanding. Sara gave him a small, sad smile and shook her head. "I'm not angry with you. I love you. But what you're going through is something I can't fully understand. It's going to change you. Already has. I just want you to survive. And if sleeping with Mahone helps you do that… if falling in love with him helps you, then it's okay. I can't say I'm not disappointed, but…" She shrugged. Pushed hair from her face. "I guess that, what with everything that's happened, my feelings have changed somewhat, too."
Michael reached out and put his hand on the fence. "I'm sorry, Sara."
"Don't be sorry." She threaded her fingers through the links, through his fingers. "You saved my life. You sacrificed your freedom for me, and I will never forget that." She squeezed his fingers. "Survive this, Michael. Don't worry about me or Lincoln or anyone out here. Worry about yourself and Alex and Tony. Get through this, okay?"
"Okay."
"Promise?"
"I promise."
Rating: Mature
Pairing: Michael/Mahone
Summary: Just another day in paradise for Michael and Alex.
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24, Part 25, Part 26, Part 27, Part 28, Part 29, Part 30, Part 31
Alex woke the next morning to find Tony curled on one side of him, snoring, and Michael, stiff as a board, staring at the ceiling on the other. Unusual. Tony usually slept next to Michael. Well. Curled up against his side, using Michael like a human teddy bear, drooling on his shoulder. But Michael, not him.
Also, Michael was usually asleep when Alex woke up. And after he'd been crawling through the other side of the prison all night, he needed the sleep more than Alex did.
He swallowed, trying to work moisture into his throat. "How'd it go last night?"
"Good. Fine. We need you tonight, though. Lots to do." He sat up and leaned against the wall. "How do you feel?"
Alex shrugged and sat up as well. "Okay, I guess. Better." He leaned over Michael to snag a bottle of water off the floor. "I'll no better once I've eaten. Do you know when breakfast is?"
Michael checked his wrist, which was devoid of a watch, then shrugged, making a face. "Soon, I think. But, here. We sort of hit the mother lode last night." He handed Alex a chocolate bar.
The growl that he made when he snatched the candy from Michael was embarrassing, but he couldn't help it. It was an honest to God candy bar. Chocolate. After days of fried crap and soggy crap, it was ambrosia.
"You don't have to gobble it. There's a lot more where it came from."
Alex raised an eyebrow at him, chewing.
"We found a storeroom or something," he said, voice low. "Under the first level is another one. Not as big, maybe about six cells put together. There's food, those packaged meals they eat in the army, water, and candy bars. Enough to survive for quite awhile. We just need something to carry them in."
"And a way out." He took another sip of water.
Michael grinned at him. Leaned closer. "Someone already started tunneling out of there. They had to stop because they were bracing it properly, but I know how to do it. We can get out."
"By digging?"
He nodded.
Alex sighed. Closed his eyes. "We're going to need something to dig with. Raoul have any spoons in his stash?"
"Some. We might be able to scramble up some shovels and stuff. They didn't clear anything out of that other side."
"You really think we can just dig our way out of here? It's a little… cinematic."
"What? You don't like movies?"
He opened his eyes and gave Michael a lopsided smile. "I have no desire to play Red to your Dufresne."
"I have no desire to be Andy Dufrense." He leaned in and kissed Alex. "Too dangerous. That's why I have you, right?" He moved in again.
Alex pulled away. "Michael."
"Alex, please." There was a note of desperation in Michael's voice, an undercurrent that hadn't been there before. Shaky and unhinged. His eyes were wide, sort of wild.
He still pulled away. Took another bite of his candy bar, finishing it off. "What's wrong?"
"What? Nothing. I just… nothing." He moved away from Alex. Hesitated. Licked his lips, then crawled off the mattress. "Nothing."
Alex watched him, frowning. Something was wrong, and Michael was the king of secrets when he wanted to be.
That was something Alex hadn't thought about before. As long as he fucked Michael, gave Michael what he wanted, he was happy. Relaxed. Open and more willing to share.
Cutting him off might keep them both safe from one another in the long run. Keep Michael from thinking he was falling in love with Alex, from thinking that his future with Sara was over.
Keep Alex from getting too used to feeling Michael's body against his and those sweet moans from ringing in his ears. From…
In the long run, it'd be safer. But in the short run, it put Michael on the defensive. Made it too easy for him to shut down, not share what he was thinking. Or what was wrong.
He rubbed his eyes. His head hurt. "Did something happen last night?"
"What do you mean?" Michael was across the cell now, digging through a bag and pulling out spoons.
"You seem a little distant. And Tony was cuddling me instead of you."
A furrow appeared on Michael's forehead. "Yeah. I don't know. He just crawled over to you when we came back last night. Didn't say why."
"Did you get in a fight?"
"No. He was a little bored at first, but once we started exploring it was fine. And he was happy when we found the candy."
"I don't blame him." Alex licked his fingers, searching for any hint of chocolate. "What about after that?"
Michael's cheeks turned red. He shrugged. "Nothing. We showered."
"Michael, Michael, Michael. Did you and our dear, sweet boy play around in the shower?" He grinned, anticipating the usual joy of needling the other man.
Michael merely blushed harder and shrugged. "You should go outside today. Get some fresh air. Sun."
The alarm for breakfast went off. Next to him, Tony groaned and rolled over.
"No get up," he moaned, pulling the thin sheet over his head.
Alex laughed. Rubbed Tony's back. "You want us to get you breakfast?"
"Chocolate."
"Maybe later. We'll get something healthy."
There was a snort under the blanket.
He laughed again, then leaned over and placed a kiss on the back of Tony's exposed neck. "Okay, so we'll get you something greasy, fried and only vaguely resembling edible food."
Tony rolled onto his back and gave Alex a sleepy smile. "You better?"
"Yeah. I'm better." He stroked his hand over Tony's hair, then ran his thumb across his forehead. "Okay. You going to stay and sleep?"
"Si. I tired."
"I am tired," he corrected.
Brown eyes rolled. "I am tired," he repeated. Then he rolled back onto his side and curled into a ball.
"So, we're on our own for breakfast," said Alex, turning back to Michael.
Who was giving him a look that seared Alex through. He couldn't quite decipher it: part hunger, part jealousy, part longing and all tinged with that frantic desperation that had been part of him all morning. His face was pale, yet strangely flushed, like he was overheated, and his hands were clenched tightly against his thighs.
What the hell?
"Let's join the throng," Alex suggested. He pulled his shoes on, then crossed the cell to Michael, who hadn't moved except to turn his head away from Alex.
When Alex brushed his fingers over Michael's neck, the other man inhaled sharply.
"You coming?"
"Yeah," Michael said, voice strangled. He pushed himself to his feet and fell a half-step behind Alex, trailing him.
"Michael! Alex," Felipe greeted them. Another man was with him, his cellmate presumably.
Michael hesitated behind him, step faltering. When Alex glanced back, he saw Felipe had clapped his hand on Michael's shoulder.
"Felipe," Alex said mildly. He wrapped his hand around Michael's wrist and gave a slight tug.
Felipe got the message and immediately lifted his hands off Michael's shoulder. "You feeling better today, Alex? You don't look sick like you did yesterday."
"Yes. I must have had the twenty-four hour Sona bug."
The other man gave him an confused look. Apparently, while he spoke English, some expressions weren't as well known. Alex just shrugged and shook it off.
"Anyway, this is Fernando. He doesn't speak English good, but he wants you to know that he's open to trade whatever for his drugs. Well, not whatever, but…" He glanced at Michael.
"No." Alex turned and began dragging Michael down the hall.
"Wait. Wait! Not just him. He'll take the kid, instead. Either one."
Alex rounded on Felipe. Backed him against the wall, in his face. "Touch the kid, touch Michael, and I'll slice off your dick and feed it to you. Got it?"
Felipe nodded. "Si. Si, we got it."
He pulled away, but Felipe grabbed him by the shirt. "We'll take whatever. Food, money, soap. Everyone knows Raoul had everything, and you guys took a bunch. And Michael has someone visiting him. He can bring in stuff from the outside."
"We don't want drugs."
The other man smirked. "I know a junkie when I see him, man. Maybe you're on a clean kick right now, but a few more days like yesterday, and you'll want something to tide you over. Just want to let you know, we're open to doing business with you."
Alex kneed him in the groin. "I'd get that looked at. Come on." He grabbed Michael's wrist again and stalked off.
Michael followed behind, slowly twisting his wrist in Alex's grip. Alex let him, opening his hand enough to allow movement, feeling skin against the palm of his hand.
And then, Michael opened his Goddamn mouth and ruined the moment.
"You know, since you're not bothering to take me, you might as well start pimping me out. Get some use out of me."
He rounded on Michael in an instant. Pushed him through a crowd of men. Michael turned away from the punch, moving with it. Stumbled back and hit the wall.
There were a few laughs and a couple of catcalls, but the men around them didn't rally or allow themselves to be drawn into a riot. Michael and Alex were recognized now, and the sight of someone disciplining his property wasn't exactly unusual around here.
Michael was smirking at him as Alex shoved him into the wall. Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth, a puffy bruise forming where Alex's fist had made contact.
"What the fuck is up with you?" Alex demanded in a hiss.
"I don't know what you mean, Alex." And there was that fucking impersonal tone Michael did so well. Those veiled eyes, the masked face. Except…. Except…
His pupils were blown and there were tremors running under his skin.
Alex forced himself to open his hand so he didn't punch Michael again. Instead, he put it around Michael's throat. Squeezed lightly.
Michael closed his eyes. Shuddered.
"What. The fuck. Is going on with you?"
"Nothing."
"I swear to God, if you say that one more time, I'm…"
"You'll what?" Michael's eyes snapped open. "You'll make me sleep in the corner? You'll ignore me? You'll do something else that makes us both miserable for our own good to prevent me from falling in love with you? What, Alex? What are you going to do?"
He clenched his jaw. "You have got to get over this. We had a couple of good fucks and now…"
"It's more than that and you know it." Michael fisted Alex's shirt. Shoved, turning them so he had Alex pinned to the wall, arm heavy across his chest. "It's more than that," he whispered, breath hot on Alex's skin. "It started long before we even spoke. In the cemetery. In the warehouse. On the phone. It's more than physical and it always has been. And you know what I think?"
"No, Michael, I…"
Michael bit his ear, shutting him up. "I think that you're the one using Sara as an excuse. You want me to hang everything on her, to be devoted to something that's never going to happen so you can pretend that you're not falling in love with me."
With that, Michael shoved Alex away from him.
Alex stumbled back, falling into someone. When he looked back up, Michael was gone.
He shook his head. Rubbed at his temple, headache pounding even harder.
"Well," a voice drawled in his ear.
Alex leapt away from the voice, revulsion crawling over his skin. He turned to find T-Bag, grinning at him like a Cheshire Cat.
"Wasn't that interesting? Seems your boy is a bit frustrated, sexual wise." He licked his lips. "I wonder which of us is gonna take care of that problem first."
"T-Bag," he said, stepping forward as menacingly as he could. "Don't you dare…"
His reflexes were slow, but he caught T-Bag's wrist just before the sharp glass shard slid into his stomach. As it was, the tip punctured the skin and slid along his stomach, tearing open flesh, as he fought T-Bag's arm.
Alex gasped in pain. Backhanded T-Bag across the face with his free hand.
He fell away from Alex, glass shard falling to the floor. Alex picked it up first, then delivered a swift kick to T-Bag's knees. "Stay away from Michael."
He got a sharks-grin in return. "I don't take orders, especially not from you. And believe me, the way you're denying that boy, got him all tied up in knots? He'll be coming to me, not the other way around." He licked his lips. Looked down Alex's torso. "I warned him. Warned him that your experience with your pants around your ankles, Guillermo's' cock in your ass would put you off, but he didn't listen. Guess he will now. Boy needs a man to take care of him, not a used up pussy." With that, he pushed himself to his feet and hobbled off.
Alex just watched him, feeling his shirt growing damp with blood.
Well. Shit.
* * *
Michael couldn't breathe.
He pushed through people walking to the mess blindly, seeking air, seeking… something. He didn't even know at this point. Everything was wrong. It was so, so wrong and he didn't know what to do. How to fix it.
He didn't even understand exactly what was wrong or when it had gone so wrong. Just that it was.
All night, sleep eluded him. He and Tony had returned from the empty wing. Michael had felt as if his skin were moving, a prickling sensation all up and down his body. Heat pooled in his groin, flooded through him as he laid on the mattress next to Alex. Tony had avoided his touch, avoided him. He was obviously upset about something, and Michael didn't know what was wrong. How to fix it.
Not that his brain was working. It was clouded by lust. By the memory of Tony's water-slick skin under his. The soft mouth against, tongue in his mouth, against his.
Water had always been one of Michael's weaknesses. He'd seduced a lot of people, slept with them to keep them happy. The times he'd enjoyed best were when they'd both been wet, in a shower or pool. There was just something about the feel of wet, wet skin against his own, so many different sensations added onto the experience. He could lose himself in it.
Tony pulling away, while heartening in the abstract, was frustrating in the concrete. Worse, the person Michael really wanted would hardly even touch him.
He knew he overreacted about their fight, but, hell, that was their relationship. They fought and came to a truce, an understanding, and then fought again. He and Alex were too alike and too different and while in the real world they might be able to make it work, here there were two options: fuck and fight.
Alex had taken one option away. And Michael knew he was right about the reason. There was only one reason Alex wouldn't sleep with him anymore. Why he kept throwing Sara at his face. If Michael was falling for Alex, then the reverse was true.
Michael stumbled outside. The heavy, humid air was a slap against his face. He inhaled, soupy oxygen sliding into his lungs wetly. It was hardly any relief, but it was air and it didn't smell as sharply of piss as it did inside. In the center of the yard was a man cooking something over a metal trash can. He went over and, after a brief discussion with the man before trading a chocolate bar for the meat thing that was being cooked.
It was actually a lot better than the crap they were handing out in the mess. Michael had finished it before he found a seat under something that wished it was a tree and was valiantly casting a faint shadow on the ground.
He sighed. Let his head rest against the wanna be tree. Wished he knew what to do. This obsession with Alex was getting him nowhere. This was why he didn't do relationships. Didn't let himself get emotionally involved. When he did, he obsessed. Got distracted, unfocused. Sara had distracted him in prison somewhat, but it'd been manageable. There, it was just his head, just his emotions. This… Alex had everything. He had Michael completely enthralled, hopelessly addicted, and then…
Just cut him off.
Maybe it was revenge for not letting him do drugs. Effective. Michael was still right, and this punishment was completely unjustified. But, it was effective.
He just wish he knew what he'd done to make Tony angry at him. Or whatever had happened that made Tony pull away. Okay, yes, he was sixteen years old and Michael knew he had absolutely no right to touch one hair on Tony's head. Except in a non-sexual, cuddly way because Tony needed that. But he had no right to demand or except or even want sex from him.
And yet, having him pull away after getting Michael twisted into knots was kind of hard to take.
He closed his eyes, feeling a headache pressing at his forehead. He pulled his knees to his chest and pressed his head against them.
"Scofield. Vist..," a voice over the loudspeaker garbled, dying halfway through the word.
Assuming Lincoln had come early that day, Michael pushed himself to his feet and trudged to the visitor's yard. He really wasn't up to seeing Lincoln right now. He felt like crap, what with his skin being too small and his heart beating too fast and this… this hunger burning in his belly that had nothing to do with food.
He was so twisted around, so lost in his mind, that he was almost to the fence before the face he was seeing on the other side of the chain links registered.
Everything stopped: his breath, his mind, his heart. Everything. Except his feet, his traitorous feet, which forced him forward, stumbling in the dirt. He tripped. Caught himself on the fence.
Words rushed into his throat and became stuck. Too many and he couldn't breathe, couldn't think. He just shook his head, holding onto the fence, traffic jam of words in his mouth and something pressing behind his eyes and… No. No.
"Michael, I'm sorry," Sara said. Her voice was low, even. Hands half raised, palms out at her chest. "I'm sorry. I know you don't want me here, and I was going to honor your wishes, but something's happened and I had to come."
He got a breath in. Sharp. Loud. Painful. He swayed unsteadily on his feet.
"Okay, Michael, can you sit for me? Please? Just sit, okay. Down here." She lowered herself into a sitting position in front of the gate, eyes on him. "Just sit down, no problem. Everything is fine, we're just sitting." Her movements were slow and combined with the cadence of her voice, Michael felt himself respond. Felt his heart start again. Air come more easily.
He sat. Fell, the impact on the ground harder than he expected, jolting his brain in his skull. "What's wrong?"
"It's okay," Sara said. She offered him a smile. "Yesterday after Lincoln saw you, he went to the American Embassy again. They want to help, they do, but there's a problem. Lincoln's in the country illegally, and even though he's been exonerated back home, that doesn't change the fact that he's here without a passport or permission."
"Lincoln…"
"He's fine. He's still there and they said they'll try to work it out without him having to leave. In light of your arrest and everything. But it's going to take a few days, and I didn't want you to feel abandoned."
Michael shook his head. He couldn't look at her.
Sara sighed. "I brought some stuff for you. The guard has the bag. Toothbrushes, toothpaste. Soap, towels. I brought a safety razor, but they took it out. I wasn't sure what else you might need."
"Um." He cleared his throat. Tugged at his fingers. "Um, maybe liniment or something? We've all got a lot of bruises and the mattresses are really thing."
"Okay." Relief colored her voices, like just the fact he was speaking in complete sentences to her was a victory of some kind. "Okay, I'll see what I can do. Maybe some lotion or something? Your hands look rough."
He glanced at them. They were rough. Fingers red and raw from clawing at the walls. The backs of his hands scraped, skin torn off, scratches everywhere else.
"Sure. Whatever." He rubbed the back of his neck, then tugged the index finger of his right hand. "You paying them?"
"Like twenty bucks. It's nothing. Really."
A pause. Michael scratched at the inside of his wrist. Cute poison. The formula for the corrosive that ate through the pipe under the infirmary.
Sara Tancredi. The doctor he'd flirted with while in said infirmary. Partly because he needed to for his plan, partly out of his habit of flirting with everyone in order to more easily manipulate them when needed, and partly because, once he started, he found her genuinely attractive. And after the escape, when Bellick had told him of her overdose, he'd called to assure her that it had been real.
And it had. But now…
"Michael. Michael, are you okay?"
He shook his head. Dragged his fingers up his arm, pain burning.
"I'm sorry you ended up in here. And if I could trade places with you, I would. I can. I…"
"No." He licked his lips. "Consider it a parting gift."
"Michael, please. I…"
"I'm sleeping with Alexander Mahone."
Another silence.
"I'm. I'm sorry?"
He glanced up at her. Looked away before he could meet her eyes. Focused on her knee. "I'm sleeping with Alex." Licked his lips. "Or, I was, until he decided I was falling in love with him and now he won't sleep with me. But that doesn't stop him from touching me or looking at me. Oh, he'll do that, but the minute I try to reciprocate, he's all, 'Oh, Michael, it's too dangerous,' or whatever."
"Oh. So. You're… what? Bisexual?"
"No."
She laughed, but it wasn't a happy laugh. One of those laughs people give when they can't quite believe what they're hearing. "No?"
He shook his head. Dug his fingers into his arm. "No. Yes. I don't know." Another glance up, then he focused on her shoulder. "I'm not gay. I'm not straight. I don't think about it because usually, I just sleep with people to get them to back off. Or if I want something from them. But you and Alex and…. I don't know." He pressed his fingers into his eyes.
"Okay. It's fine, Michael. It's fine. I can't even begin to imagine what you're going through. The stress you're under. So, if you've turned to Mahone for comfort, I can't really say anything." She put her hand on the fence. "What do you mean, he thinks it's dangerous?"
"Because I said I didn't want to be with you. Try to make it work after… And he's convinced that it's because I'm falling in love with him."
"Are you?"
"No. I don't know. I don't know anything except I want out, I want not to be raped by T-Bag or Raoul or anyone else, and I want Alex."
"Michael, are you all right? Because you look like hell. You look like you've been hurt really badly, and I have to know if you're okay."
He closed his eyes. Let out a long breath. "Yeah. Yeah, I think I am." He forced himself to look up at her. Still couldn't meet her eyes, but it was closer. "It was rough at first. But Alex and I have our own cell now. A reputation. He and I fight sometimes, but he wouldn't hurt me."
"This is the same man who wanted to kill you."
A smile curled his lips. "Yeah, well. It wasn't personal."
She laughed. "I know Lincoln was rather adamant that he wouldn't help Alex get out, but, well. I don't like the look of this place. And I do trust your judgment."
"I can't leave Tony."
"The boy? Does he have a last name?"
Michael swore. "I'll find out." He swallowed. "We may, uh. Have a way to, uh. Help ourselves. Out."
Sara nodded. "Well. Don't get caught. And keep us informed."
"Are you angry with me?"
"Michael, look at me. Please."
He closed his eyes. Clenched his jaw, then forced himself to meet her eyes.
They shone with compassion and love and understanding. Sara gave him a small, sad smile and shook her head. "I'm not angry with you. I love you. But what you're going through is something I can't fully understand. It's going to change you. Already has. I just want you to survive. And if sleeping with Mahone helps you do that… if falling in love with him helps you, then it's okay. I can't say I'm not disappointed, but…" She shrugged. Pushed hair from her face. "I guess that, what with everything that's happened, my feelings have changed somewhat, too."
Michael reached out and put his hand on the fence. "I'm sorry, Sara."
"Don't be sorry." She threaded her fingers through the links, through his fingers. "You saved my life. You sacrificed your freedom for me, and I will never forget that." She squeezed his fingers. "Survive this, Michael. Don't worry about me or Lincoln or anyone out here. Worry about yourself and Alex and Tony. Get through this, okay?"
"Okay."
"Promise?"
"I promise."
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-09-07 08:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-08 03:45 am (UTC)Thanks!
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Date: 2008-09-07 08:55 pm (UTC)Awesome !!!
Love it, love it, love it !!!
You made my day again !!!
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Date: 2008-09-08 03:45 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-07 11:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-08 03:45 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-07 11:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-08 03:45 am (UTC)Thanks!
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Date: 2008-09-08 02:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-08 03:45 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-08 06:33 am (UTC)Now Michael has to convince Alex before something else happens to them.
I hope Alex is ok!
I really enjoy these chapters, and I'm looking forward to seeing what happens next to the three of them, and especially how Michael and Alex's relationship progresses!
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Date: 2008-09-09 03:05 am (UTC)Sara still loves him, but she's realistic. At the very least, she can see that he's falling apart and there's something/someone who can keep him together. She's more concerned with him surviving than him remaining "faithful".
Plus, it opens a lot for me to do with her, so... :)
Thanks!!
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Date: 2008-09-08 08:35 pm (UTC)But no thanks for letting me high and dry (like poor Mikey, too) behind (again)... :( - Maybe I should tug Alex' ear a bit, LOL!
And again thank you for the cutest Tony-image evar, dear *Serafina*, ah how sweet your description for the boy's use of Michael "LIKE A HUMAN TEDDY-BEAR..." :O) :O)
Finally, let me say, I love YOUR Sara much more then the resurrected one from the show...
*nods**nods*
Thankx a lot for posting and sharing, my Dear One!
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Date: 2008-09-09 03:06 am (UTC)I think we should all get in line and do it until he agrees to do Michael for us. Agreed? :)
Thank you so much!
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Date: 2008-09-14 04:39 am (UTC)Myself , I am probably the only person in the PB fandom that truly dislikes Sara ( all my woman-oriented likings are related to Gretchen whom I love and adore but that's where it ends).But reading this chapter I almost liked her a bit.It's just a bit , but it's a big thing , which proves again what a good writer you are.
The Third Stone
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Date: 2009-01-11 05:32 am (UTC)Also, you had mentioned there being a sequel to "Cellie";are you still planning on doing that?
We need more Alex/Michael stories!
I miss your fics! (Not meaning to pressure you-this is meant as a compliment :) )
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Date: 2009-01-13 04:51 am (UTC)The Cellie sequel probably will happen. However, I'm really sort of interested in writing an AU for PB where Alex was Michael's cellmate instead of Sucre So, we'll see.
Thanks.
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Date: 2009-01-14 07:15 am (UTC)I like your idea of a story where Alex was Michael's cellmate. That sounds interesting.
Of course I hope you also still do the sequel to Cellie :)