Characters: Michael/Lincoln (Slash)
Summary: Post-Escape, established relationship. Soaring, plotless sensuality.
Author's Notes: Written for the fanfic100 challenge, where I have the slash pairing of Lincoln and Michael. This is for Prompt #38, “Touch.” This could be considered to follow after my "Paradise" fic. Originally intended to be the dreamSex portion of "Always, Chapter 2", the detail and length of it made it better suited to be a standalone fic.
A faint smell of the sea wisped through the air as Michael lay in bed, the late-afternoon sun filtering through the shades and setting an amber glow about the room. The air itself was silken, flowing across his waiting skin and drawing him into its touch, even as the door opened and Lincoln stood at its entrance.
Michael’s eyes moved over the crisp white shirt and tan pants, Lincoln’s darker skin adding to an effect that made him look like the cover for a magazine targeting tropical playboys. Lincoln’s lips parted slightly, his own eyes taking in the sight of Michael lying naked on the bed as if placed there for him alone. He stepped forward slowly, pulled toward that lean, supple body, and Michael felt his heart begin racing in anticipation. Lincoln’s knee was on the bed, and then he slid forward, stroking up Michael’s stomach as he went, kissing his way from navel to nipple to neck. Michael’s arms and legs came around him then, his head turning to capture Lincoln’s mouth. The longing twined through him, slow and deep and moving through every caress of his tongue against Lincoln’s.
The shirt scraped softly against Michael’s skin, and his legs rubbed down along the back of Lincoln’s, feeling the slight sharpness of the cotton pants between them. He rocked his hips from side to side, bucking Lincoln gently even as his hands were gently unbuttoning Lincoln’s shirt and drawing it down over those broad shoulders. Michael kissed every new place the departing shirt revealed, fingers stroking across Lincoln’s back and over the soft, secret places at the front of his waist. He nibbled at Lincoln’s neck, then sucked at his lower lip before sliding into his mouth again. Lincoln tasted like oranges and coconuts, and his chest against Michael’s was warm and strong and full.
Michael’s hand slid down the back of Lincoln’s pants, and Lincoln thrust up against him in response. They worked together to unfasten them, shoving them down with Lincoln’s underwear to join the forgotten sandals on the floor. Leaning and curving against one another, their hands roamed across skin, muscle, the satin hardness of arousal. Michael guided Lincoln onto his back, his hand gentle against Lincoln’s face as he kissed him thoroughly, lovingly, and moved languidly down his body. His hands trailed every place his mouth left, shaping and holding those shoulders, that chest, the firmness of Lincoln’s belly and the softness to the side below.
He kissed the inside of Lincoln’s thighs, teasing, as Lincoln’s grip on his shoulders tightened, and he smiled softly before slowly licking his way from the base of Lincoln’s cock to its tip, already angling upward and wet. “Oh, god,” Lincoln said, as Michael’s mouth closed around him, tongue swirling around the head as he took Lincoln deeper and deeper. Michael grasped Lincoln’s hips, fingers slipping underneath to caress the bottom of Lincoln’s cheeks as he moved over him, sucking and pulling Lincoln into sweet agony. Lincoln’s hips ground restlessly against the bed, and Michael rode him through it all, tasting and tantalizing him before finally focusing on making the ending good. Lincoln tried to still his thrusts as he got closer, and Michael moved in further as Lincoln’s head arched back and his body turned to granite. Michael’s groan vibrated through Lincoln’s climax, amping up the intensity until Lincoln felt a brief and surprising loss of gravity before coming back to himself, utterly spent and unable to move or think.
Michael laid his head against Lincoln’s stomach, something like victory or completion filling his chest. He couldn’t resist occasionally mouthing Lincoln’s taut skin, teasing the surface a little with the tip of his tongue, and before long Lincoln’s fingers were stirring against his shoulders. They moved down below his arms, pulling gently to urge Michael up. He complied, drawing himself along the length of Lincoln with feline grace, writhing up against him as he moved and then roiling against Lincoln’s hip as they kissed and touched. Lincoln was practically limp from the aftermath of pleasure, but he began to come alive under Michael’s mouth, hands finally beginning to move over Michael, legs snaking around him and his kisses growing hotter.
Lincoln cupped Michael’s ass with both hands, pushing upward until Michael raised his head to look at him.
Lincoln smiled at him lazily. “Right here,” he said, his eyes dropping down to his own chest. “I want to watch you.”
Michael groaned at the intensity of the heat those words created, angling himself forward until he was seated right before Lincoln, waiting, leaking slightly, and needing it now. Lincoln shoved the extra pillow behind his head to lift it up, and then took Michael in, moaning at the sensation, the fullness, the taste of it.
Michael was already shaking, so badly wanting to thrust, but he didn’t want to take advantage of what Lincoln was giving him. Lincoln’s stroking hands made lifting motions, and Michael raised himself slightly, letting Lincoln move him in and out of that warm, skillful mouth, teeth grazing just slightly here and there. Those hands explored Michael’s whole body now, Lincoln’s eyes following them, watching Michael’s eyes close as a slight look of pained pleasure drifted across his flushed face. Michael felt his legs weakening from the overload of sensations, and his arms fell forward, leaning into the wall for strength.
Lincoln pushed him more forcefully then, and Michael cried out suddenly, barely able to stay upright as he rode through the climax, perspiration breaking out across his shoulders and his eyes watering from the blinding, gorgeous relief.
“Oh,” he moaned softly, melting through his whole body and sliding down Lincoln before he crushed him. Lincoln held him, caressed him, kissing his temple, his lips, and teasingly, his nose.
“When you called,” Michael said, “I was so surprised. You said you’d be gone for a couple of hours.”
“That’s what I thought when I left.” Lincoln’s kiss was deep and satisfying, and so wonderfully real. He gazed into Michael’s eyes, still unfocused and half-closed from complete and glorious exhaustion.
“But then,” Lincoln said, “I remembered that I had something worth coming home early for.”
And Michael’s smile was like an ember becoming fire.
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