Fic: The Seven Deadly Sins
Oct. 30th, 2006 07:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
aeroport_artTitle: The Seven Deadly Sins
Pairing: Michael/Lincoln
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
aeroport_art
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: none
Word Count: 539
Disclaimer: Prison Break is not mine, obviously. And I am not making any money from this, obviously.
Notes: I'm having a major brain fart for Breathe Love, so here's this instead. Something completely different and much darker than I'm used to. Just in time for Halloween! Kinda got fascinated on the sense of taste so there's a lot of allusions to that. There may or may not be a countering sequel, depends on my mood. Hope y'all enjoy!
Summary: Seven short vignettes, Michael-centric.
Sloth.
Lincoln tells his parents he’s going out to the nearby library to study but really he’s going to the abandoned parking lot to have a smoke with his friends. Let me come, Linc. Let me come. When Lincoln lets him join the big boys, Michael never sticks around for homework or chores. He sucks the end of the filter and tastes tobacco and watches Lincoln inhale the secondhand smoke that came from him. Watches Lincoln take a little bit of Michael inside his lungs. Watches Lincoln, lazy, slow, beautiful.
Envy.
Lincoln is fifteen and Michael is eleven and their parents are dead, so Lincoln shoulders the responsibility and works for a living. Work hard, play hard, so they say, and Lincoln lives it like a mantra. Lincoln brings home older women more often than not. At night Michael listens to the sounds of groaning springs and rhythmic thumps and he wants something those women have, he doesn’t know what he wants but it’s in their bedroom, in between their sheets, on his tongue like the taste of sweat, and Michael just wants.
Lust.
When Michael is old enough, he figures out what it is that he requires. It’s Lincoln. It’s Lincoln and his frosted grey eyes, it’s Lincoln’s strong back and curved ass, it’s Lincoln’s soft mouth and callused hands and the way they’d feel on Michael’s cock. When Michael fists himself it’s Lincoln’s mouth instead. When Michael listens through the plaster wall it’s him screaming in ecstasy instead. When Lincoln leaves the shower dripping puddles behind him, it’s Michael ripping that towel off and on his knees but after Michael comes, it’s just his hand and mess instead. He doesn’t know what to make of it all but all he knows is that he requires Lincoln’s heat.
Pride.
When Michael finally breaks Lincoln in he feels a surge of pride. I did this, I won him, and when Lincoln chokes back a sob and sheathes his throbbing pole inside of Michael, it tastes like victory.
Anger.
Michael is a quiet man, quiet but not serene, no. Molten lava flows through Michael’s veins and beneath the thin veneer of tranquility, he burns. Michael burns with Lincoln’s body, Lincoln’s soul, so when Lincoln calls their relationship a mistake, when he calls their lovemaking fucking, Michael detonates. He sees red and nothing else and when he comes out of it, Lincoln is underneath him, lips shaped into an apology and devoured by Michael’s tongue.
Gluttony.
This is heaven Michael thinks as Lincoln comes in violent shudders, milky fluid squirting down Michael’s throat. This is heaven Michael thinks as he swallows greedily, overdosing on the euphoric heaviness of Lincoln’s semen in his stomach. Michael drinks and drinks and when there is nothing left (for now), he gorges himself on Lincoln’s relaxed, spent body. Michael traces his name with the tip of his tongue.
Greed.
Michael has Lincoln where he wants him. Michael has Lincoln by his side at day, in his bed at night, and on his hands and knees in between, but it isn’t enough. It can never be enough until Michael can see/smell/taste/touch nothing but Lincoln. Never enough, until more, more, more. Never enough until.
Pairing: Michael/Lincoln
Author:
aeroport_artRating: NC-17
Spoilers: none
Word Count: 539
Disclaimer: Prison Break is not mine, obviously. And I am not making any money from this, obviously.
Notes: I'm having a major brain fart for Breathe Love, so here's this instead. Something completely different and much darker than I'm used to. Just in time for Halloween! Kinda got fascinated on the sense of taste so there's a lot of allusions to that. There may or may not be a countering sequel, depends on my mood. Hope y'all enjoy!
Summary: Seven short vignettes, Michael-centric.
Sloth.
Lincoln tells his parents he’s going out to the nearby library to study but really he’s going to the abandoned parking lot to have a smoke with his friends. Let me come, Linc. Let me come. When Lincoln lets him join the big boys, Michael never sticks around for homework or chores. He sucks the end of the filter and tastes tobacco and watches Lincoln inhale the secondhand smoke that came from him. Watches Lincoln take a little bit of Michael inside his lungs. Watches Lincoln, lazy, slow, beautiful.
Envy.
Lincoln is fifteen and Michael is eleven and their parents are dead, so Lincoln shoulders the responsibility and works for a living. Work hard, play hard, so they say, and Lincoln lives it like a mantra. Lincoln brings home older women more often than not. At night Michael listens to the sounds of groaning springs and rhythmic thumps and he wants something those women have, he doesn’t know what he wants but it’s in their bedroom, in between their sheets, on his tongue like the taste of sweat, and Michael just wants.
Lust.
When Michael is old enough, he figures out what it is that he requires. It’s Lincoln. It’s Lincoln and his frosted grey eyes, it’s Lincoln’s strong back and curved ass, it’s Lincoln’s soft mouth and callused hands and the way they’d feel on Michael’s cock. When Michael fists himself it’s Lincoln’s mouth instead. When Michael listens through the plaster wall it’s him screaming in ecstasy instead. When Lincoln leaves the shower dripping puddles behind him, it’s Michael ripping that towel off and on his knees but after Michael comes, it’s just his hand and mess instead. He doesn’t know what to make of it all but all he knows is that he requires Lincoln’s heat.
Pride.
When Michael finally breaks Lincoln in he feels a surge of pride. I did this, I won him, and when Lincoln chokes back a sob and sheathes his throbbing pole inside of Michael, it tastes like victory.
Anger.
Michael is a quiet man, quiet but not serene, no. Molten lava flows through Michael’s veins and beneath the thin veneer of tranquility, he burns. Michael burns with Lincoln’s body, Lincoln’s soul, so when Lincoln calls their relationship a mistake, when he calls their lovemaking fucking, Michael detonates. He sees red and nothing else and when he comes out of it, Lincoln is underneath him, lips shaped into an apology and devoured by Michael’s tongue.
Gluttony.
This is heaven Michael thinks as Lincoln comes in violent shudders, milky fluid squirting down Michael’s throat. This is heaven Michael thinks as he swallows greedily, overdosing on the euphoric heaviness of Lincoln’s semen in his stomach. Michael drinks and drinks and when there is nothing left (for now), he gorges himself on Lincoln’s relaxed, spent body. Michael traces his name with the tip of his tongue.
Greed.
Michael has Lincoln where he wants him. Michael has Lincoln by his side at day, in his bed at night, and on his hands and knees in between, but it isn’t enough. It can never be enough until Michael can see/smell/taste/touch nothing but Lincoln. Never enough, until more, more, more. Never enough until.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-10-31 04:02 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-10-31 05:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-10-31 04:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-10-31 05:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-10-31 04:43 am (UTC)mmm. just the tyop pff for the good day i have had!!!
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Date: 2006-10-31 05:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-10-31 08:13 am (UTC)*wiggles with you*
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Date: 2006-10-31 07:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-10-31 07:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-10-31 07:41 am (UTC)Wonderful
Date: 2006-10-31 07:36 am (UTC)Re: Wonderful
Date: 2006-10-31 09:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-10-31 01:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-10-31 06:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-10-31 01:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-10-31 08:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-10-31 09:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-11-02 06:45 am (UTC)in between their sheets, on his tongue like the taste of sweat, and Michael just wants.
So tangible. You can feel and understand exactly what Michael wants here.
it’s Lincoln’s soft mouth and callused hands and the way they’d feel on Michael’s cock. When Michael fists himself it’s Lincoln’s mouth instead.
Every bit as hot as the subject of this particular sin...
and beneath the thin veneer of tranquility, he burns.
I love this description. And it's often true of quiet people-- once you push them too far, they erupt into anger far greater than most people ever exhibit.
Never enough, until more, more, more. Never enough until.
Such wonderful desperation in "Greed" here, and all these run-together thoughts and half-finished sentences show that really well. That dangling final line just works, because "until" is everything, and the Universe does not need explaining.
Lovely job. Glad I've had a chance to read one of your stories now! :)
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Date: 2006-11-02 06:53 am (UTC)Thanks for pointing out all the things that made this tick for you! And I'm really glad the last line worked, I wasn't sure if it was too vague or what.
So I've just kind of been wondering if you've been following Breathe Love : x. Because your opinion means a lot to me and if the story hasn't really captured your attention, I would love to know why. I can take criticism, promise!
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Date: 2006-11-02 07:00 am (UTC)No, I loved it! I rarely use the broken-language convention in writing, but sometimes it just works. That whole section tumbles out like Michael's overdriven thoughts, and he's so fixated in it that the thought has already completed itself half-unspoken.
I haven't actually read "Breathe Love." I'm pretty terrible about getting into chapter fics, and usually I imagine that I'll wait until they're done, at which point I stare at the mass of them and *thud*. If you look into my "TO READ" memories you'll probably see what I mean. *sigh*
Sometimes it's enough for a single story to list 3000+ words and I already don't have the energy to read it (and most people complain about short pieces). It's because what with my job and a family and kids and then all of my own writing, where's the time to read? Short pieces are the only thing that save me. :0 (and I should totally be in bed right now instead of reading things on the Internet!)
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Date: 2006-11-02 07:23 am (UTC)Speaking of writing, I'm looking forward to the pb fic exchange XD.
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Date: 2006-11-02 06:38 pm (UTC)If only I could get some of the started ones to finish themselves! This is much more of a problem for me with Supernatural than with Prison Break. :(
Speaking of writing, I'm looking forward to the pb fic exchange XD.
Oh, me too! Although, gah-- that 25-writer matrix for assigning the fics is going to kick my butt! That's a lot of writers! Err, I mean... fantastic turnout. :D
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Date: 2006-11-02 07:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-04-30 03:27 pm (UTC)Michael is a quiet man, quiet but not serene, no. Molten lava flows through Michael’s veins and beneath the thin veneer of tranquility, he burns.
is Michael in a nutshell.
Thanks for a nice read - I'll go back to the present now ^_^
no subject
Date: 2008-04-30 05:05 pm (UTC)