Imagine

Title: Imagine
Author: froggy
Fandom: Prison Break
Pairing: various
Rating: NC-17
Author's Notes: For your pleasure and my twisted mind. This might be updated from time to time as I find more scenarios to occupy my mind with during history lessons ;)

Imagine...

... T-Bag, wearing a leather jacket and faded denim jeans, sitting astride a gigantic black motorbike with chrome details, roaring the engine and offering you an empty pocket. “Wanna go for a ride, pretty?”

... Sucre biting down hard on his lip to keep from making noise as Michael's mouth takes him in, inch by inch. The sheet is shielding them but Sucre can still hear T-Bag call, “Ain't fair to stash all the goodies on one shelf, Bellick!” and he comes in Michael's mouth, T-Bag's voice in his ears.

... T-Bag, a shank to his throat, readily opening his mouth to the demanding tongue of John Abruzzi. They're alone in the gardening shed and T-Bag knows forgiveness can take many shapes.

... the final visitations room where Michael is whimpering with need as Lincoln thrusts against him, whispering in his ear, large hands everywhere on tattooed skin. “Forget what they're accusing me of, Mike... Just remember this. Remember us.”

... Michael lying on T-Bag's bunk, arms tied behind his back while T-Bag licks his way slowly up his right thigh. Only bitches and faggots suck cock, but T-Bag doesn't think about that as he takes Pretty into his mouth. The younger man is moaning softly, making T-Bag hard and he thinks, being someone's bitch can't be that bad.

... a battle of giants; Abruzzi and Lincoln in a bruising kiss, struggling for dominance as they wrestle each other to the ground, ripping at clothes and grinding against each other.

... Abruzzi as he wakes up and finds himself tied up, spread-eagled, on a bed, a blindfold stealing his sight. He struggles angrily against his bonds until a southern drawl caresses his ear: “Easy, boy; ain't nothin' you can do 'bout this so just take it easy...” and John Abruzzi friezes in panic, realising he's naked.

... Michael's calculating half-smile as he leaves Abruzzi's cell during a riot, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. There are more ways than violence to ensure a man's discretion and he knows Abruzzi would rather die now than tell anyone he's acquainted with Michael; the mobster is just too focused on his pride for that.