Characters: Michael/Lincoln (Slash)
Summary ("Paradise" Universe): When it was Lincoln, everything was different…
Author's Notes: A drabble meme offering for clair_de_lune, who wanted Michael/Lincoln and "candle."
Also for fanfic100, this is #58, "Dinner."
It was dark by the time Michael came in from walking on the beach. He'd stayed out purposefully, not just for the colors of the sunset but for what followed afterward, where the moon shone silent and silvery off the crests of the breakers. The beauty of it was abstract and unreal, the kind of thing that only happened in dreams.
Sometimes his whole new life felt like a dream, after all he and Lincoln had survived on the way to getting here. There were times Michael expected to wake up and find it had vanished like the tide slipping away from the silent shore.
The sea still gleamed in the distance when Michael opened the door of the little white house where he and Lincoln now lived. It was almost as dark inside as the night he'd left behind, and he wondered for a moment if Lincoln had gone into town. But then he noticed a faint glow, which led him to a candlelit dinner spread out on the table.
Now that was a surprise. It looked wonderful, and Michael nearly said so before deciding to feel out Lincoln's mood first. Better that than blurting out something that implied the setting was unusually romantic or thoughtful, or anything else out of the ordinary.
Lincoln carried a plate in from the kitchen. "Power's out," he commented.
Case in point. Michael was glad he'd kept quiet.
"So how did you make dinner, then?" Michael said as he sat down.
Lincoln pulled out a chair and joined him. "It was almost finished anyway. I just kept the oven closed and left it in a little longer."
Michael leaned forward and breathed in the combination of rosemary and roast chicken. "Nice."
"I think you'll like the fruit I picked out for dessert, too. Want some bread?"
The food was delicious, but it didn't compare to the golden curve of light against Lincoln's face, or the way the shadows couldn't begin to hide his smile. Michael had dined by candlelight in a couple of restaurants, always with some woman or other who should've mattered more to him than she did. Here, in the quiet privacy of the world he and Lincoln had made for themselves, every softly-lit image of his brother's beauty came to rest in the breathless spaces between words and thoughts.
"How long do you think the power will be out?" Lincoln said after a while, his voice low and husky.
"Could be hours," Michael replied, the corners of his mouth lifting in answer to Lincoln's suggestion.
"Good." Lincoln took Michael's hand and pulled him up, gathering the candle as he led the way to the bedroom. "I can think of five or six excellent ways for us to pass the time while we wait," he said. He smiled at Michael teasingly over his shoulder.
"If we're lucky, we might even get the chance to try them all."
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