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Title: Loser's Weepers
Author: neverendingview Fandom: Prison Break Pairing: Scofield/T-bag Rating: NC-17 Author's Notes:
T-bag catches a Fishie in his cell. This chapter was written before
the previous "Brotherly Love" but set, obviously, after it. Semi-one
sided Michael/T-bag.
“If we hurry….divided by seven--Damn I forgot about…,” Michael Scofield muttered to himself as he poked around T-bag’s cell. There was something about it that gave him the creeps, mostly because he could only imagine what’d gone on on the bed he was standing next to. But, a conversation was a conversation; T-bag had said they needed to have a little chat. Then a little chat they’d have. After ten minutes Michael gave up pacing and sat on the bed gingerly. It didn’t feel any different than his own bed. In fact, the sheets were clean. Everyone else was still out in the yard, what was T-bag playing at making him wait so damned long, and what was so damned private that he had to be in the other’s…quaint abode. Another ten minutes, the mattress was feeling soft. How many hours of sleep was he behind for this week--80. It would have been 84 but he’d grabbed a good solid 4 hours last night. Maybe a little lie down wouldn’t hurt, the sheets were clean and when T-bag showed up again he’d get back to thinking and working. “Well, well, what have I caught in my cage? A Scofield…” T-Bag’s rich voice said over the dull roar of GenPop filling up again. Michael slept on, oblivious to what was happening. He had a warm pillow and a soft bed; he didn’t feel the other’s fingers as T-bag ran his hand down the other’s back. T-bag smirked, Michael was a little older than what he normally went for, but it was his innocence that really cause Bagwell’s interest. Sure, he had a mind as quick as a firecracker, but Michael panicked easily, especially from threats. And he had a quiet handsomeness to him, cuteness really, that was only amplified when he got scared. “Let’s line ‘em up, fellas!” Bellick barked and T-bag pulled away from admiring the sleeping Scofield to stand outside of his cell. “Hey boss, lookie what I happen find,” T-bag said, tilting his head and stepping to the side to let Bellick see Scofield, curled up in a peaceful sleep, “He just wandered in here and fell asleep…do I get to apply my li’l rule?” Bellick thought about it for a minute, Scofield, he’d been wanting to get him some pay back for being so damned smart. Maybe a little romp with Bagwell would do just the trick. “Alright,” he said, “Finders keepers.” T-bag licked his teeth with a hungry glance back at the sleeping Michael, “Losers weepers.” The bars slammed and Michael jumped lightly. He hugged the pillow tightly and opened his eyes. Something wasn’t right, he was facing the wrong way to be in his own cell. “My, well, sleepin’ beauty finally woke up. How was your nap, Pretty?” T-bag asked, leaning against the wall opposite the bunk. Michael sat up in a scramble and looked around, “What the hell?” “You fell asleep in my cage…you see Cap’n Bellick and I have a little understanding. ‘Finder’s keepers, loser’s weepers’. So long as I ain’t forcing you to be here you get to stay the night,” T-bag smirked, leaning on the upper bed to put his face close to Michael’s, “And since you weren’t awake to protest…” Michael pushed against the older man’s chest, “You tricked me!” T-bag grabbed the arm and twisted it behind Michael’s back, pressing him against the opposite wall with mildly intimidating force, “Convict, Pretty, what’d you expect me to do? Send you an invitation on card stock?” “Stop it, that hurts,” Michael said through a clenched jaw trying to wriggle his arm free of T-bag grip. “Only if you promise to play nice. You see, I’m a gentleman. I ain’t gonna hurt you unless you gimme a reason,” T-bag leaned forward, pressing the fron tof his body and molding it along ‘college-boy’s spine, his breath hot against Michael’s ear, “And pushing me around is reason to fight back.” Michael swallowed nervously, closing his eyes. He could feel the ghost of T-bag’s lips on his neck as he talked. Fingers unraveled as T-bag slowly released him, and Michael looked around once more, the sheet was already hung, it might as well of been his death mask. “Sit down,” T-bag said, less of an order than a request. Michael rolled his shoulders back. He moved backwards towards the bed, his eyes transfixed on the other man. The mattress shoved the back of Michael’s knees as he backed into it and he sat. Michael focused on the other man, trying his hardest not to look the least bit nervous. He looked over T-bag noting everything about him; the way he managed to get his hair to fluff in front without the aid of gel, the tilt of his smirk, the way he was standing; just his shoulders against the wall, leaving his hips about two feet from it. T-bag studied back. It was cute how hard Michael was trying not to be scared, it only made him look all the more vulnerable. He looked over his forearms, the parts of the tattoo that made him lick his teeth in anticipation. “You said you needed to talk to me,” Michael said finally, trying to keep his stoic expression and defensive glare from his position on the bed. T-bag undulated his back, standing straight without the wall now, “Yes, you see I’ve been thinking about your li’l promise you made me take to leave a certain little Fishie alone.” “Tweener? If you so much as touched him I’ll tell Bellick what really happened to that C.O. an--,” Michael said moving to stand up. “Now now, let’s not get all excited, I’ve been good…” T-bag said leaning forward on the top bunk, putting his face in Michael’s again, “If you haven’t noticed, however, I’ve been a little snappy lately. And I can mellow out for everyone I just need a little….relief, if you know what I’m sayin’, Pretty.” “Go fuck yourself,” Michael said not daring to push T-bag out of his face again, he liked not having a broken arm. “That’s just it,” T-bag retorted, licking his teeth, “It just ain’t doin’ it for me…I need a little po-larity of you against me to really…satisfy my desires.” Michael’s breath started to reflect his realizations; the more he looked around the more he saw how trapped he was. The only way out of this cell was through the bars which were shut tight till seven am the next day. His pale eyes flickered back to T-bag who still wore his lopsided smirk. “I suppose you realize you’re stuck here with me,” T-bag tilted his head, trying to look sympathetic, “Poor little college boi. Thought he’d get away without a scratch…mmm, well. If you follow directions I promise to go easy on you. They teach you that in school right, following directions?” T-bag sat on the bottom bunk next to Michael. Michael’s eyes shut softly, trying to clear his mind of thoughts of things he’d be asked to do. Things he’d have to do to get through the night unscathed. Michael felt hands caress up the sides of his arms. Hot air as T-bag’s lips were nearly pressed against his neck. Michael made a noise, a mix of surprise and helplessness. “There’s something about the ears,” The voice said against Michael’s neck, as a hot tongue traced the top rim of his right ear, “One kiss sends a shiver to all the right places if you do it perfectly…” T-bag’s hot mouth engulfed Michael’s earlobe for a second, sucking it. Michael made another noise, a whimper as he felt a tingle shoot from the top of his head to his inner thighs. He tilted his head, exposing his neck out of reflex. “Tell me, you ever…kiss a man before, Pretty?” T-bag questioned as he dragged a finger down Scofield’s spine, his head still comfortably perched on the younger man’s shoulder. Michael sat up straighter feeling the finger. He nodded, eyes still closed as he spoke, “A few times…on dares…in high school..” “I said men, you’re talking about boys,” T-bag said with a soft laugh, “Let me ask you again, you ever kiss a man before?” Michael took a deep breath and shook his head, “No.” “Well then, you’re in for a little treat aren’t you, Pretty?” T-bag said, tongue grazing his bottom lip. Cold, delicate fingers wrapped around Michael’s chin and turned his head. T-bag’s warm forehead pressed against his and Michael tried to make his mind disappear. The kiss was passionate, yet teasingly gentle all at once. Hot tongue flickered across his while teeth tugged at his bottom lip. The scruff of a beard against his soft chin was less painful, more alluring. Michael shivered as he felt himself relax into the first kiss and frowned as he offered his own after it. “Mmm, aren’t we feisty, Pretty?” T-bag whispered gently against Michael’s lips and pinned him between the mattress and the wall. His hands moved up Michael’s thighs, pulled the hem of his pants down to expose the hip bones that jutted out. The cold fingers danced over them, feeling swirls against the flesh. “There’s just something about men’s hips that drive me wild…” T-bag said, fingers tracing the bone as he spoke, “The curve, the soft skin…I could just eat it. Right. Up.” Michael’s eyes were still closed, his lower lip quivering. The more T-bag’s fingers toyed with the waist of his pants the more Michael squirmed like he was about to die from terror and tension. Theodore found it delicious. “W-w-w-…what are you doing?” Michael asked finally, not daring to open his eyes as he felt his pants sink even lower down his legs. T-bag laughed at that, moving to kiss the other’s neck, “Can’t you guess? Or are you the sort who likes narrative in the sack?” Michael whimpered lightly, giving up his fear and opening his eyes. He grabbed at the other’s arms, prying them off his hips. A brief flurry of sheets and bodies and Michael found himself face down in the bed, straddled with his arms twisted painfully behind his back. “Now, Pretty,” T-bag hissed through gritted teeth, “I coulda sworn I told you to play nice or we’ll play hard. You don’t want to play hard, do you?” Michael felt the other’s hips press into his back with a particular hardness. He pretended he didn’t know what could possibly be so stiff and shook his head, “No…no I don’t…to tell the truth I don’t want to play at all.” A laugh, “Aw, poor baby…he doesn’t like this game…you liked it before. Maybe you just need another kiss to change your mind, hm?” Michael just took a ragged breath as T-bag slowly let his arms go, turning him over underneath him. Another kiss, Michael let his lips part and a serpent of a tongue entered his mouth. More tingling shots darted to his thighs and out of reflex his hips pressed up into the older man’s. Pulling away from Michael’s lips, T-bag left kisses down Michael’s throat, pulling the young man’s shirt easily over his head and off his body. Barely-there abdominal muscles but P.I. had toned Michael’s arms well. His hands continued their exploration, going back to the pants, slipping them lower still. Michael started to fidget, a whine crawling out of his throat. More kisses to distract him, a cold hand caressing over his newly freed erection. As the kisses faded away another sound escaped his throat, a gentle moan. Michael hardly noticed as T-bag undressed and rolled him on his side. “Promise not to scream,” T-bag murmured, his voice now smooth velvet that poured into Michael’s ear, “And I’ll give you a count down…all you have to do is relax…and nod your head. Promise?” Michael let out a nervous noise as he nodded his head. His fingers grabbed the sheet tightly. His head pressed firmly into the pillow. “Relax…3.…” Michael swallowed and exhaled. “2...” His fingers let go of the sheet and he took a deep, deep breath. “1...” The cold fingers curled around his hip bones from behind. Michael let his mind escape to the feelings… “OH fuck!” Michael gasped, body tensing as he felt the older man stretch him. He sniffled uselessly and clawed at the sheets. He heard a noise, hissing--no--shushing. “Shhh shhh…hush…Relax, Pretty. Mmph,” T-bag said with his own quiet moan, “Forget about it…just let yourself relax.” Cold fingers spiraled their way up Michael’s shaft, gently caressing the head before wrapping around to start strokes even with the pace from behind. T-bag sucked on the other’s earlobe, kissed down his neck and tilted his head back. Relieving the pressure of the escape felt so wonderful. Especially with college boy, especially when college boy liked it. Michael’s hips were moving against the hand. The more he relaxed, the better the shaft inside of him felt…good. He moaned slightly, nerves that weren’t used to stimulation saying their gratitude to T-bag for finally getting a piece of the action. The cold fingers made things stiffer, even if the friction did warm them up. The more the two moved, the more the both of them allowed the moment to take them. Their bodies moved in perfect time, hands frantically tried to guide action, search for something to hold on to or simply explore a different body. No matter how Michael had tried to ignore it, it felt amazing. T-bag’s tempo changed suddenly, moaned getting caught in the back of his throat as he struggled to pace himself. Michael let out a squeak, his body tensing all over. That made it too much for the older man; a forceful push fully inside Michael. Michael felt his body heat up from the inside and gasped at that. His lip quivered and his breath hitched. A pause as he fought it for a moment, just a moment before releasing with a sigh. Bodies shifted, the two men laid on the backs for a moment, panting. T-bag rolled out of bed after a second and began to wash up. The sound of running water didn’t snap Michael out of his lightheaded relief. He opened his eyes hearing the spring squeak and saw T-bag sitting next to him, watching him with a gentle gaze. Michael buried his face in his pillow and choked on a sob. T-bag frowned, rubbing his tattooed back softly. “Aw, Pretty…what’s there to cry about, game’s over…” he said, pulling the sheet up around Michael softly, stretching out next to him. “Finder’s keepers, Loser’s weepers,” Michael whispered softly, letting out a ragged breath and drifting off to sleep. |
