PB Fic: How to Sin Successfully
Aug. 9th, 2010 12:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
out_thereTitle: How to Sin Successfully
Fandom: Prison Break
Pairing: Michael/Sara & Michael/Alex. Or maybe Sara/Michael/Alex is more accurate.
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 4,200
Notes: Thanks tooxoniensis for the beta and isagel for the encouragement to finish this. Set post-series and Jason-verse, so I'm ignoring the end of s4 and the movie. Worst summary in the world but I'm taking the easy way out today.
Summary: "You and Alex." Michael groans, and breathlessly adds, "Kissing."
Sara's always been ambitious, always wanted more. In high school, it was more votes (student president) and better grades (nearly perfect). In college, it was grades and fun (alcohol and drugs, boys and girls, staying up all night and sitting her exam in last night's make-up and her underwear left behind in someone's room). But it's always been about more.
It's always been about pushing boundaries. Going after what she wants, however misguided it used to be.
These days, she's more focused. Her wants are simpler and healthier. She wants the clinic to do well; she wants her home and her family to be safe. She wants to hear Jason laugh, to see Alex smile, and she wants to make Michael moan.
It's the last of these wants that has her crouched over Michael, hands on his shoulders as she nips down his throat. She can feel him twist under her, rubbing against the cotton sheets, aroused but letting her set the pace. It's ambition, that desire to push for more, that makes her say, "Talk."
Michael's hands -- always so gentle, always so careful -- slide over the arch of her back. Fingers brush over her spine, tracing faded scars she refuses to feel self-conscious about, but Michael stays quiet.
So Sara fights dirty, shifts her hips against him, rocks her clit against the heat of his cock. It's a tease, nothing more. "Say something, Michael."
In the dark of their room, she can't see his face but she knows the expression. The color high on his cheeks, his full lips softly parted and waiting to be kissed. "Why?" he asks, sounding deceptively calm.
It's something of a victory. Sara hides her smile against the line of his shoulder and says, "Because you never talk in bed."
"We talk," Michael says, and Sara twists her hips again just to hear his breath hitch.
"We discuss things. The house and the garden, Jason's next school concert, but you don't talk about sex. Ever." Before Michael can ask why again, before he tries to pull back and analyze the situation, Sara kisses him. Kisses the curve of his mouth, the smooth skin below his lower lip, the edge of his jaw. "Because I think it would be hot."
Michael makes a mh-hm noise that somehow manages to be both skeptical and affectionate.
It's strange, maybe, that Sara loves him for it. Loves him for thinking about it, for being willing to listen even if he's already sure of his own mind. "I think the idea of you talking about sex is hot. It doesn't have to be anything big or embarrassing. I just... I think dirty talk is sexy."
Pushing up onto her elbow, Sara flicks on the lamp and pulls back enough to be able to see Michael, to smile and wait for him to decide this isn't scary. He knows she wouldn't ask anything terrible of him -- not like this, not in their bed, not with her thighs against his hips and her breasts dragging against his skin -- and she thinks he'll agree. But she can wait.
Michael smoothes a hand up her skin, settles a wide stretch of warm fingers across the back of her shoulder blades. Then he says, "I wouldn't even..." and trails off with a half-hearted shrug.
"A fantasy. Something you think is hot. Something you think about when you jerk off."
"If you think between you and Alex--" Michael says, and there's a note of amazement amongst the embarrassment. "You're vastly overestimating me."
Sara laughs. She can't help it. She's seen the marks left on Michael's skin -- the occasional finger marks bruised into his hips or thighs, hickeys left on his collarbone, teeth marks over his spine -- and she's pretty sure she sometimes leaves marks of her own. It's a comforting reminder of Alex, a place where she can touch and kiss and hear Michael groan.
"Well, if you were going to," she says, "and you closed your eyes, what would you think about?"
"You," Michael says, eyes wide and so open. "I'd... you."
Sara swallows and leans up on her knees, just enough to slide against his cock. Slow, leisurely rhythm, the simple promise of skin against skin. "Really?"
"And Alex. You and Alex." Michael groans, and breathlessly adds, "Kissing."
Sara has to ask. "Kissing each other? You've thought about it? Imagined it?"
Michael nods, finishes the gesture with a light kiss against her shoulder. "Once or twice."
Sara licks her lips, smoothes a hand down his chest. She scratches lightly with fingernails as she says, "How did you imagine it, Michael? In the kitchen, Alex pressing me back against the bench? Or maybe on the couch, me straddling Alex, my hands in his hair and his arms around me? Is it desperate and fast, pulling at buttons and zips, trying to get to bare skin?"
Michael bucks up underneath her. Digs fingers in and says, "No, not-- Dressed. It was just kissing, not--"
"Just kissing, clothes on, Alex's mouth on mine. Is that what you were thinking?" Sara whispers the words against Michael's ear. She doesn't really expect a verbal response, not when Michael's holding onto her so tightly and arching up to rub against her. "What about you, Michael? Where are you in this scene? Who would you be touching?"
"No-one," Michael groans out, sounding lost and overwhelmed. It sends a thrill down Sara's spine to hear Michael like that, to know that he only lets go like this here: at home, where he's safe. "Just--"
"Just watching?" Reaching down, Sara wraps her hand around his cock, lets him set the pace. His hips move in time with his breathing, fast and shallow, and Sara knows he's close. "Sitting back, watching me and Alex touch and taste and--"
Michael yanks her head down, fuses his mouth to hers as he comes.
***
Sara waits until Michael's breathing becomes slow and steady, until there's the soft rumble of a snore at the end of his inhalations, and then she eases out of bed. She sneaks across the room, listening to Michael breathe, and freezes when the sound stops for a moment. She stays still, only the toes of her right foot touching the ground and holds her breath until Michael rolls over and starts snoring again.
She's lucky. This is the only time she sneaks around these days: when she's trying not to wake people up. She remembers what it was like when the stakes were a lot higher, when being heard meant a gun waved in your face. This is much nicer (and easier on her adrenalin levels).
She tiptoes to the hallway and eases the bedroom door closed behind her. There's a yellow lava lamp on at the end of the hallway -- partly because Jason might need to go to the bathroom during the night, partly because Michael thinks lava lamps are cool, and there's no way she's agreeing to one anywhere else in the house. The hallway's bathed in soft, mustard-colored light. It makes the few steps to Alex's door easy to navigate.
Sara pushes the door open, wincing when the hinges squeak. The honeyed light cuts a thin line across the foot of his bed, catching on the deep red of his covers.
Of the three of them, Alex is the one most likely to be up late. She's found him at 3am with his lamp on, a book across his lap and his reading glasses perched at the end of his nose. She'd been hoping he'd be awake.
Sara pauses for a moment, about to leave, but then she hears the rustle of covers being folded back and Alex says, "Get in." He sounds half-asleep and his voice is rough, but Sara wants to talk. So she closes his door, feels her way over to the bed, and crawls in.
Alex yawns, stretching an arm and wrapping it around her shoulders, affectionate like he gets when he's half-asleep or more than half drunk. He smoothes a hand down her back, and stops suddenly. "Sara?"
"Who did you think it was?"
"Jason," Alex says, and then, "Spiders."
"Care to explain that to me?"
Alex stretches. This time, he sounds more awake. "We watched a documentary on spiders. Two years ago, Jason would have cried at the fly being caught and had nightmares. Now, he's wants to keep watching because the insect hasn't died yet."
Sara laughs and for a moment the conversation dies out. She's not sure how to bring the topic up, but maybe the obvious approach is best. "Have you ever thought about kissing me?"
"Only reason I've stayed this long is to try to get into your pants."
Sara snorts and elbows him for the deadpan delivery. "I'm serious."
"No, you're not. If a girl wants a guy to kiss her, she'd touch, she'd flirt, things would take care of themselves. If you ask about it, you're not here because you want to kiss me."
Sara pushes her hair off her forehead. Then she sits up in the bed. She feels like she needs to be up, needs to be awake, to talk about this. "I was thinking about fantasies. Has Michael ever told you...?"
"No," Alex says with a low chuckle. "Getting Michael to talk about sex? You're doing well to get a one word answer out of him."
"He said something. Tonight." Sara folds her hands in her lap and thinks about comfort zones. Talking about this stuff with Michael feels sexy and daring; talking about it with Alex is kind of embarrassing but in a friendly way, like she doesn't mind him knowing but it's still... not quite awkward, but something close.
"Huh," Alex says and while Sara's still trying to think of how to word it, he adds, "Guess it makes sense."
"What does?"
Alex tugs on the lamp string and sits up beside her. In the soft light, Sara can spot the signs of Alex thinking: eyes speculatively narrowed, mouth open and caught in a half-smile as he puts it together. "Michael's fantasy, or the only one he'd admit to, is for the two of us to kiss."
"And how does that make sense?"
"Fantasies are like fears. They're emotional. Instinctual, gut reactions. And they're usually linked."
"We're attracted to what we fear?" Sara asks. It's an odd conversation, but it's not odd for them. There are times -- times when Sara has nightmares, times when Alex has drunk his weight in coffee -- when they can't sleep. One of them will sneak out of bed, leaving Michael and his solid nine-hours-a-night sleeping pattern undisturbed, and go to the kitchen for a snack; the other will hear the footsteps and follow. They usually end up on the couch, sitting and talking, flicking through late night TV with the volume low. Sometimes, there are interviews on Letterman and they end up discussing movies or actors, occasionally politics. (Sara was surprised to find Alex is a staunch Republican. When he explained in terms of the armed forces and the right to own handguns, she almost understood.)
Sometimes, when they get caught up talking and forget to keep their voices low, there'll be footsteps on the stairs and they'll look up to find Jason rubbing his eyes or Michael yawning behind his hand. If it's Jason, he'll curl up on their laps and demand a bedtime story, and when he falls back asleep, Alex will carry him upstairs. If it's Michael, they'll make space between them on the couch and keep talking, huddled up close with hands on Michael's thigh or forearm, waiting for Michael's eyes to drift shut.
"You're talking basic reactions. Things that make your heart pound in your chest and get the adrenalin flowing. They're linked." Alex shrugs at her, and then adds, "Sex in public, that risk of getting caught, turns you on if you're scared of what other people think, of how they'll judge you. If you don't really fear it and just know life is easier without a public indecency arrest attached to your name, then the threat of getting caught is just a stupid risk."
Sara laughs at the way Alex rolls his eyes in distaste. When he thinks an idea is moronic, he's pretty damn obvious about it. "It's that simple?"
"Same for bondage. If you have a fear of losing control, then you'll find it exciting to give up that control. If it's not a big deal, handcuffs are a ridiculous prop." Alex's expression barely changes but Sara's seen the faint red marks that occasionally appear on his wrists. She worked at Fox River long enough to recognize those lines, to know how they're caused. As carefully as she's looked, she's never seen them on Michael. It's only Alex.
Described like that, it makes sense but she's not going to ask about it. She wouldn't want him to think she's making any judgments here.
"Same goes for taking control in the bedroom," Alex continues. "If you've felt disempowered before, if you have a fear of that, you might find it a turn-on to take charge. To be the one pushing things along."
Sara assumes he's talking about Michael. Then she sees the glint in Alex's eye, the touch of a smirk, and Sara realizes she's being teased. He's talking about her. "Sometimes, you just like seeing proof that you're trusted."
"But Michael doesn't have those issues," Alex says, and quick as that, he's switched back to agent-mode. This is the voice he uses when he's being serious, when he's putting together pieces of a puzzle, predicting a personality based on hints and history. It's easy to see why he was good at his job. "He has a history of abandonment and a low sense of self, and you've got to think that when this started, when we were first feeling our way, the biggest fear for a personality like that..."
It's funny that she knows him so well. Sara can spot the moment, the very second, when Alex decides not to say what he's thinking. "Say it."
Alex pauses for a moment, rubs a hand over his cheek as he thinks. Then he says slowly, "A personality like that is going to place more value on the people around him than on himself. To an extent, they would perceive that the most logical result of living with two other people is that each person would eventually recognize the difference in value. There would be a fear that they could lose their place in the relationship, that they could end up excluded." For all the careful pronoun use, the professional and objective language, the tone of Alex's voice makes it clear this is intensely personal.
"You really think Michael believes--"
"No," Alex says, so fast she knows he's telling the truth. "Michael's too smart to believe that would happen. But it doesn't mean it's not a deep-down fear."
Sara nods. There's quiet between them as they both think -- Sara with her arms wrapped around her chest, Alex with his hands clasped tightly in front of him -- and then Sara says, "We don't have to do this." They wouldn't be discussing it like this if they weren't thinking seriously about doing it; they're both impulsive in their individual ways, but when it comes to their family, when it comes down to protecting those they love, Sara knows whatever they agree to, they'll do.
It seems like an age before Alex acknowledges, "It's something Michael wants." He doesn't need to say that one of the many things they share is a desire to see Michael happy, that by extension this is something they want too.
"So we do it. We just make sure Michael knows it's about him."
"Yeah," Alex says, and then they get down to the business of planning.
***
It's funny when Sara thinks about it. Kissing is one of those things that they don't do often. It's not like she never kisses Michael, but it's never in public, it's never in front of Alex or Jason. He'll hug her, wrap an arm around her in the kitchen, let his forehead drop against her shoulder, but never a kiss on the lips. Occasionally, very occasionally, Michael might kiss her on the cheek but that seems to be his limit.
It's one of those things she's never questioned. She's never seen Michael kiss Alex, despite all the years they've lived together now, despite how handsy and affectionate Alex gets when he's had a few too many beers. It simply seems to be where Michael draws the line. Michael will turn his head or lean away, he'll make it clear that he isn't comfortable with the public display, and Sara has never seen a reason to push that limit.
Alex has noticed it too. She knows that by the way he says, "It needs to be light-hearted. It needs to feel fun, not like an ambush."
Sara sighs, nodding in agreement. "It's a pity we're too old to play Spin the Bottle."
Alex should laugh, but instead he pauses, watching her out of the corner of his eye. Then he says, "That could work."
***
…That's why they end up sitting around on Friday night, after Jason's been dropped off for a sleepover, Alex toying with an empty coke bottle between his fingers. "When I was a kid, we only got that excited for birthday parties."
"Because of the sugar?" Michael teases, settling on the armchair.
"Maybe Alex just liked playing Pin the Tail on the Donkey," Sara replies. "Or Hide and Seek."
"Or Spin the Bottle," Alex says, like the thought just occurred to him. He raises his hand, waves the bottle in the air. "Favorite game in junior high."
"I never played," Michael says. When Sara looks over, he shrugs and adds, "I studied a lot in high school. I wasn't the kind of kid that got invited to parties."
Sara nearly laughs. "Then you should play it."
"I think I'm a little old for it."
"We used to play in med school," Sara says. "Trust me, you can play at any age."
Michael smirks, like he's finding this funny. "But I don't know the rules."
"It's simple," Alex says beside her. There's a low rumble as he pushes the coffee table out of the way, clearing a space on the floor. Alex drops to his knees on the carpet, and waves a hand at Sara. "You'll pick it up soon enough."
Michael raises an eyebrow, but when Sara sits cross-legged on the floor, he shrugs and comes down to join them.
Alex looks across at her. It's a quick glance but it's so serious that for a moment she wonders if he'll lose his nerve. Then he places the glass bottle in the middle of their little triangle and says, "First step, spin the bottle." Alex flicks the bottle hard, and it twists on the carpet, round and round.
It comes to a direct stop in front of Michael. If Sara didn't know better, she'd suspect Alex had practiced that move. (In fact, she does suspect but she knows better than to ask. Alex would never admit it.)
"Second step, kiss whoever the bottle points at," Alex says, and he leans up on his knees, reaches over towards Michael.
Sara doesn't miss the way Michael freezes, the way he glances at her, as if he's waiting for… And then she gets it. He's waiting for permission. Worried about jealousy or hurting her feelings, or some other Michael-specific concern. So she nods, smiles to let him know it's okay.
Michael relaxes, leans forward just enough. He leans in, clearly intending to kiss Alex on the cheek, but at the last moment, Alex turns his head, brushing his lips against Michael's. It's light, barely a touch and Alex doesn't drag it out. He doesn't press the advantage. Just drops a kiss against Michael's mouth and then sits back.
There's a flush to the edge of Michael's hairline and Sara watches him swallow before he speaks. "And that's it?"
"If you ever watched a teen movie, you'd know the answer," Alex says, knowing that Michael would rather spend four hours puzzling over the angle of a building or constructing a model than watch a high school comedy. Old fashioned slapstick, however, is a completely different story. "The person to your left takes a turn, kisses someone, rinse and repeat."
Michael's eyes flicker down to the bottle, but he doesn't reach for it. Sara knows he just needs a little time; Michael's thinking through consequences and possibilities, sorting through what ifs and maybes, trying to solve problems before they even happen. Sometimes, he needs time and Sara's happy to give it to him.
Alex, however, seems more impatient. "Need another demonstration there?"
Michael stares down at the bottle. When he looks up, there's a quirk to his lips. "Maybe."
"Maybe?" Alex questions.
"Maybe Sara should have a turn… 'demonstrating'," Michael says, and now there's a clear smile.
Sara picks the bottle up and twists it as hard as she can. It careens unevenly as it spins, moving a few inches across the carpet before it slows and points to the empty space between Alex and Michael. "I think that means someone has to claim the kiss."
"When I was a kid, it meant you had to kiss both people." Alex says it with such casual confidence that Sara can't tell if he's lying or not. It might not be a real rule, but it is a convenient one for their purpose.
"Both it is," she says, planting a hand on the carpet and bending over towards Michael. This time, Michael's already leaning closer, lips soft and parted. A hint of hesitation, that's all and then there's the warmth of Michael's mouth pressed to hers, the steadying weight of his hand resting against her shoulder. She licks against his mouth, tasting coke and something sugary, and it's long seconds before Michael pulls back and breaks the kiss. He stays close for a minute, face inches from hers, hand still on her shoulder, watching her.
Something changes. She's not sure what.
Michael sits back on his heels and looks to Alex. "Sara told you what I said," Michael says slowly. It's not a question, it's Michael thinking aloud. "That's what this is about. An excuse."
"Not an excuse," Alex says, tone a bit harsher than Sara would have chosen. "A way of introducing it without making it too serious."
"Without spooking me, you mean?" Michael doesn't say why they'd try to protect him against his fears or what those fears would be. He talks as if Alex already knows, as if Alex should be able to follow the conversation without those tedious details spelled out. Luckily, Alex can usually match Michael step for step, thought for thought. "So you could pretend it was nothing more than a game?"
"So we can keep it what it is: indulging a kink. That's all it is."
Michael makes a spluttering noise but before he can reply, Sara covers his hand with hers and says, "This wasn't an ambush. We weren't trying to make you uncomfortable. We just thought that we could have fun with this, all three of us."
Michael shakes his head but he doesn't pull away. "There are some lines you can't uncross once you've passed them. Doing this," Michael says, and he's so serious she thinks he might be afraid and hiding it, "might ruin what we have."
Alex snorts out a laugh. It's genuine and not meant to be cruel, but she's close enough to see the way Michael shuts down a little more.
Michael needs coaxing, needs time. Needs to know this is his choice to make, Sara thinks as she watches Michael's eyes flick from her to Alex. This isn't a decision they're making for him.
"This wouldn't wreck anything," Sara says. She takes a wild guess. "Do you really think if I kiss Alex, I'll stop wanting to kiss you? That's not going to happen."
"It's not that you wouldn't want to, it's just--"
Alex talks right over him. "This doesn't work without you. Never has, never would. This isn't a way of sidestepping you to get to each other. It's just a way of sharing you more obviously." Alex keeps his chin up, staring defiantly at Michael like this is a challenge, like he's ready to defend that declaration if he has to.
It's not the approach Sara would use, but it works.
***
Later, when they're a sweaty pile on the floor -- when Sara's ankle is lying across Alex's knee, and Alex's hand draws distracted patterns against her hip, and Michael is curled up, sleeping soundly between the two of them -- Alex says, "Do you think we should have tried the direct approach?"
"Just asked him outright?" Sara asks. "Or just ambush him in bed?"
Alex shrugs, as much as he can while lying on the carpet with Michael's shoulder tucked against his collarbone. "Both. Either."
"We'll try it next time."
Fandom: Prison Break
Pairing: Michael/Sara & Michael/Alex. Or maybe Sara/Michael/Alex is more accurate.
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 4,200
Notes: Thanks to
oxoniensis for the beta and isagel for the encouragement to finish this. Set post-series and Jason-verse, so I'm ignoring the end of s4 and the movie. Worst summary in the world but I'm taking the easy way out today.Summary: "You and Alex." Michael groans, and breathlessly adds, "Kissing."
Sara's always been ambitious, always wanted more. In high school, it was more votes (student president) and better grades (nearly perfect). In college, it was grades and fun (alcohol and drugs, boys and girls, staying up all night and sitting her exam in last night's make-up and her underwear left behind in someone's room). But it's always been about more.
It's always been about pushing boundaries. Going after what she wants, however misguided it used to be.
These days, she's more focused. Her wants are simpler and healthier. She wants the clinic to do well; she wants her home and her family to be safe. She wants to hear Jason laugh, to see Alex smile, and she wants to make Michael moan.
It's the last of these wants that has her crouched over Michael, hands on his shoulders as she nips down his throat. She can feel him twist under her, rubbing against the cotton sheets, aroused but letting her set the pace. It's ambition, that desire to push for more, that makes her say, "Talk."
Michael's hands -- always so gentle, always so careful -- slide over the arch of her back. Fingers brush over her spine, tracing faded scars she refuses to feel self-conscious about, but Michael stays quiet.
So Sara fights dirty, shifts her hips against him, rocks her clit against the heat of his cock. It's a tease, nothing more. "Say something, Michael."
In the dark of their room, she can't see his face but she knows the expression. The color high on his cheeks, his full lips softly parted and waiting to be kissed. "Why?" he asks, sounding deceptively calm.
It's something of a victory. Sara hides her smile against the line of his shoulder and says, "Because you never talk in bed."
"We talk," Michael says, and Sara twists her hips again just to hear his breath hitch.
"We discuss things. The house and the garden, Jason's next school concert, but you don't talk about sex. Ever." Before Michael can ask why again, before he tries to pull back and analyze the situation, Sara kisses him. Kisses the curve of his mouth, the smooth skin below his lower lip, the edge of his jaw. "Because I think it would be hot."
Michael makes a mh-hm noise that somehow manages to be both skeptical and affectionate.
It's strange, maybe, that Sara loves him for it. Loves him for thinking about it, for being willing to listen even if he's already sure of his own mind. "I think the idea of you talking about sex is hot. It doesn't have to be anything big or embarrassing. I just... I think dirty talk is sexy."
Pushing up onto her elbow, Sara flicks on the lamp and pulls back enough to be able to see Michael, to smile and wait for him to decide this isn't scary. He knows she wouldn't ask anything terrible of him -- not like this, not in their bed, not with her thighs against his hips and her breasts dragging against his skin -- and she thinks he'll agree. But she can wait.
Michael smoothes a hand up her skin, settles a wide stretch of warm fingers across the back of her shoulder blades. Then he says, "I wouldn't even..." and trails off with a half-hearted shrug.
"A fantasy. Something you think is hot. Something you think about when you jerk off."
"If you think between you and Alex--" Michael says, and there's a note of amazement amongst the embarrassment. "You're vastly overestimating me."
Sara laughs. She can't help it. She's seen the marks left on Michael's skin -- the occasional finger marks bruised into his hips or thighs, hickeys left on his collarbone, teeth marks over his spine -- and she's pretty sure she sometimes leaves marks of her own. It's a comforting reminder of Alex, a place where she can touch and kiss and hear Michael groan.
"Well, if you were going to," she says, "and you closed your eyes, what would you think about?"
"You," Michael says, eyes wide and so open. "I'd... you."
Sara swallows and leans up on her knees, just enough to slide against his cock. Slow, leisurely rhythm, the simple promise of skin against skin. "Really?"
"And Alex. You and Alex." Michael groans, and breathlessly adds, "Kissing."
Sara has to ask. "Kissing each other? You've thought about it? Imagined it?"
Michael nods, finishes the gesture with a light kiss against her shoulder. "Once or twice."
Sara licks her lips, smoothes a hand down his chest. She scratches lightly with fingernails as she says, "How did you imagine it, Michael? In the kitchen, Alex pressing me back against the bench? Or maybe on the couch, me straddling Alex, my hands in his hair and his arms around me? Is it desperate and fast, pulling at buttons and zips, trying to get to bare skin?"
Michael bucks up underneath her. Digs fingers in and says, "No, not-- Dressed. It was just kissing, not--"
"Just kissing, clothes on, Alex's mouth on mine. Is that what you were thinking?" Sara whispers the words against Michael's ear. She doesn't really expect a verbal response, not when Michael's holding onto her so tightly and arching up to rub against her. "What about you, Michael? Where are you in this scene? Who would you be touching?"
"No-one," Michael groans out, sounding lost and overwhelmed. It sends a thrill down Sara's spine to hear Michael like that, to know that he only lets go like this here: at home, where he's safe. "Just--"
"Just watching?" Reaching down, Sara wraps her hand around his cock, lets him set the pace. His hips move in time with his breathing, fast and shallow, and Sara knows he's close. "Sitting back, watching me and Alex touch and taste and--"
Michael yanks her head down, fuses his mouth to hers as he comes.
***
Sara waits until Michael's breathing becomes slow and steady, until there's the soft rumble of a snore at the end of his inhalations, and then she eases out of bed. She sneaks across the room, listening to Michael breathe, and freezes when the sound stops for a moment. She stays still, only the toes of her right foot touching the ground and holds her breath until Michael rolls over and starts snoring again.
She's lucky. This is the only time she sneaks around these days: when she's trying not to wake people up. She remembers what it was like when the stakes were a lot higher, when being heard meant a gun waved in your face. This is much nicer (and easier on her adrenalin levels).
She tiptoes to the hallway and eases the bedroom door closed behind her. There's a yellow lava lamp on at the end of the hallway -- partly because Jason might need to go to the bathroom during the night, partly because Michael thinks lava lamps are cool, and there's no way she's agreeing to one anywhere else in the house. The hallway's bathed in soft, mustard-colored light. It makes the few steps to Alex's door easy to navigate.
Sara pushes the door open, wincing when the hinges squeak. The honeyed light cuts a thin line across the foot of his bed, catching on the deep red of his covers.
Of the three of them, Alex is the one most likely to be up late. She's found him at 3am with his lamp on, a book across his lap and his reading glasses perched at the end of his nose. She'd been hoping he'd be awake.
Sara pauses for a moment, about to leave, but then she hears the rustle of covers being folded back and Alex says, "Get in." He sounds half-asleep and his voice is rough, but Sara wants to talk. So she closes his door, feels her way over to the bed, and crawls in.
Alex yawns, stretching an arm and wrapping it around her shoulders, affectionate like he gets when he's half-asleep or more than half drunk. He smoothes a hand down her back, and stops suddenly. "Sara?"
"Who did you think it was?"
"Jason," Alex says, and then, "Spiders."
"Care to explain that to me?"
Alex stretches. This time, he sounds more awake. "We watched a documentary on spiders. Two years ago, Jason would have cried at the fly being caught and had nightmares. Now, he's wants to keep watching because the insect hasn't died yet."
Sara laughs and for a moment the conversation dies out. She's not sure how to bring the topic up, but maybe the obvious approach is best. "Have you ever thought about kissing me?"
"Only reason I've stayed this long is to try to get into your pants."
Sara snorts and elbows him for the deadpan delivery. "I'm serious."
"No, you're not. If a girl wants a guy to kiss her, she'd touch, she'd flirt, things would take care of themselves. If you ask about it, you're not here because you want to kiss me."
Sara pushes her hair off her forehead. Then she sits up in the bed. She feels like she needs to be up, needs to be awake, to talk about this. "I was thinking about fantasies. Has Michael ever told you...?"
"No," Alex says with a low chuckle. "Getting Michael to talk about sex? You're doing well to get a one word answer out of him."
"He said something. Tonight." Sara folds her hands in her lap and thinks about comfort zones. Talking about this stuff with Michael feels sexy and daring; talking about it with Alex is kind of embarrassing but in a friendly way, like she doesn't mind him knowing but it's still... not quite awkward, but something close.
"Huh," Alex says and while Sara's still trying to think of how to word it, he adds, "Guess it makes sense."
"What does?"
Alex tugs on the lamp string and sits up beside her. In the soft light, Sara can spot the signs of Alex thinking: eyes speculatively narrowed, mouth open and caught in a half-smile as he puts it together. "Michael's fantasy, or the only one he'd admit to, is for the two of us to kiss."
"And how does that make sense?"
"Fantasies are like fears. They're emotional. Instinctual, gut reactions. And they're usually linked."
"We're attracted to what we fear?" Sara asks. It's an odd conversation, but it's not odd for them. There are times -- times when Sara has nightmares, times when Alex has drunk his weight in coffee -- when they can't sleep. One of them will sneak out of bed, leaving Michael and his solid nine-hours-a-night sleeping pattern undisturbed, and go to the kitchen for a snack; the other will hear the footsteps and follow. They usually end up on the couch, sitting and talking, flicking through late night TV with the volume low. Sometimes, there are interviews on Letterman and they end up discussing movies or actors, occasionally politics. (Sara was surprised to find Alex is a staunch Republican. When he explained in terms of the armed forces and the right to own handguns, she almost understood.)
Sometimes, when they get caught up talking and forget to keep their voices low, there'll be footsteps on the stairs and they'll look up to find Jason rubbing his eyes or Michael yawning behind his hand. If it's Jason, he'll curl up on their laps and demand a bedtime story, and when he falls back asleep, Alex will carry him upstairs. If it's Michael, they'll make space between them on the couch and keep talking, huddled up close with hands on Michael's thigh or forearm, waiting for Michael's eyes to drift shut.
"You're talking basic reactions. Things that make your heart pound in your chest and get the adrenalin flowing. They're linked." Alex shrugs at her, and then adds, "Sex in public, that risk of getting caught, turns you on if you're scared of what other people think, of how they'll judge you. If you don't really fear it and just know life is easier without a public indecency arrest attached to your name, then the threat of getting caught is just a stupid risk."
Sara laughs at the way Alex rolls his eyes in distaste. When he thinks an idea is moronic, he's pretty damn obvious about it. "It's that simple?"
"Same for bondage. If you have a fear of losing control, then you'll find it exciting to give up that control. If it's not a big deal, handcuffs are a ridiculous prop." Alex's expression barely changes but Sara's seen the faint red marks that occasionally appear on his wrists. She worked at Fox River long enough to recognize those lines, to know how they're caused. As carefully as she's looked, she's never seen them on Michael. It's only Alex.
Described like that, it makes sense but she's not going to ask about it. She wouldn't want him to think she's making any judgments here.
"Same goes for taking control in the bedroom," Alex continues. "If you've felt disempowered before, if you have a fear of that, you might find it a turn-on to take charge. To be the one pushing things along."
Sara assumes he's talking about Michael. Then she sees the glint in Alex's eye, the touch of a smirk, and Sara realizes she's being teased. He's talking about her. "Sometimes, you just like seeing proof that you're trusted."
"But Michael doesn't have those issues," Alex says, and quick as that, he's switched back to agent-mode. This is the voice he uses when he's being serious, when he's putting together pieces of a puzzle, predicting a personality based on hints and history. It's easy to see why he was good at his job. "He has a history of abandonment and a low sense of self, and you've got to think that when this started, when we were first feeling our way, the biggest fear for a personality like that..."
It's funny that she knows him so well. Sara can spot the moment, the very second, when Alex decides not to say what he's thinking. "Say it."
Alex pauses for a moment, rubs a hand over his cheek as he thinks. Then he says slowly, "A personality like that is going to place more value on the people around him than on himself. To an extent, they would perceive that the most logical result of living with two other people is that each person would eventually recognize the difference in value. There would be a fear that they could lose their place in the relationship, that they could end up excluded." For all the careful pronoun use, the professional and objective language, the tone of Alex's voice makes it clear this is intensely personal.
"You really think Michael believes--"
"No," Alex says, so fast she knows he's telling the truth. "Michael's too smart to believe that would happen. But it doesn't mean it's not a deep-down fear."
Sara nods. There's quiet between them as they both think -- Sara with her arms wrapped around her chest, Alex with his hands clasped tightly in front of him -- and then Sara says, "We don't have to do this." They wouldn't be discussing it like this if they weren't thinking seriously about doing it; they're both impulsive in their individual ways, but when it comes to their family, when it comes down to protecting those they love, Sara knows whatever they agree to, they'll do.
It seems like an age before Alex acknowledges, "It's something Michael wants." He doesn't need to say that one of the many things they share is a desire to see Michael happy, that by extension this is something they want too.
"So we do it. We just make sure Michael knows it's about him."
"Yeah," Alex says, and then they get down to the business of planning.
***
It's funny when Sara thinks about it. Kissing is one of those things that they don't do often. It's not like she never kisses Michael, but it's never in public, it's never in front of Alex or Jason. He'll hug her, wrap an arm around her in the kitchen, let his forehead drop against her shoulder, but never a kiss on the lips. Occasionally, very occasionally, Michael might kiss her on the cheek but that seems to be his limit.
It's one of those things she's never questioned. She's never seen Michael kiss Alex, despite all the years they've lived together now, despite how handsy and affectionate Alex gets when he's had a few too many beers. It simply seems to be where Michael draws the line. Michael will turn his head or lean away, he'll make it clear that he isn't comfortable with the public display, and Sara has never seen a reason to push that limit.
Alex has noticed it too. She knows that by the way he says, "It needs to be light-hearted. It needs to feel fun, not like an ambush."
Sara sighs, nodding in agreement. "It's a pity we're too old to play Spin the Bottle."
Alex should laugh, but instead he pauses, watching her out of the corner of his eye. Then he says, "That could work."
***
…That's why they end up sitting around on Friday night, after Jason's been dropped off for a sleepover, Alex toying with an empty coke bottle between his fingers. "When I was a kid, we only got that excited for birthday parties."
"Because of the sugar?" Michael teases, settling on the armchair.
"Maybe Alex just liked playing Pin the Tail on the Donkey," Sara replies. "Or Hide and Seek."
"Or Spin the Bottle," Alex says, like the thought just occurred to him. He raises his hand, waves the bottle in the air. "Favorite game in junior high."
"I never played," Michael says. When Sara looks over, he shrugs and adds, "I studied a lot in high school. I wasn't the kind of kid that got invited to parties."
Sara nearly laughs. "Then you should play it."
"I think I'm a little old for it."
"We used to play in med school," Sara says. "Trust me, you can play at any age."
Michael smirks, like he's finding this funny. "But I don't know the rules."
"It's simple," Alex says beside her. There's a low rumble as he pushes the coffee table out of the way, clearing a space on the floor. Alex drops to his knees on the carpet, and waves a hand at Sara. "You'll pick it up soon enough."
Michael raises an eyebrow, but when Sara sits cross-legged on the floor, he shrugs and comes down to join them.
Alex looks across at her. It's a quick glance but it's so serious that for a moment she wonders if he'll lose his nerve. Then he places the glass bottle in the middle of their little triangle and says, "First step, spin the bottle." Alex flicks the bottle hard, and it twists on the carpet, round and round.
It comes to a direct stop in front of Michael. If Sara didn't know better, she'd suspect Alex had practiced that move. (In fact, she does suspect but she knows better than to ask. Alex would never admit it.)
"Second step, kiss whoever the bottle points at," Alex says, and he leans up on his knees, reaches over towards Michael.
Sara doesn't miss the way Michael freezes, the way he glances at her, as if he's waiting for… And then she gets it. He's waiting for permission. Worried about jealousy or hurting her feelings, or some other Michael-specific concern. So she nods, smiles to let him know it's okay.
Michael relaxes, leans forward just enough. He leans in, clearly intending to kiss Alex on the cheek, but at the last moment, Alex turns his head, brushing his lips against Michael's. It's light, barely a touch and Alex doesn't drag it out. He doesn't press the advantage. Just drops a kiss against Michael's mouth and then sits back.
There's a flush to the edge of Michael's hairline and Sara watches him swallow before he speaks. "And that's it?"
"If you ever watched a teen movie, you'd know the answer," Alex says, knowing that Michael would rather spend four hours puzzling over the angle of a building or constructing a model than watch a high school comedy. Old fashioned slapstick, however, is a completely different story. "The person to your left takes a turn, kisses someone, rinse and repeat."
Michael's eyes flicker down to the bottle, but he doesn't reach for it. Sara knows he just needs a little time; Michael's thinking through consequences and possibilities, sorting through what ifs and maybes, trying to solve problems before they even happen. Sometimes, he needs time and Sara's happy to give it to him.
Alex, however, seems more impatient. "Need another demonstration there?"
Michael stares down at the bottle. When he looks up, there's a quirk to his lips. "Maybe."
"Maybe?" Alex questions.
"Maybe Sara should have a turn… 'demonstrating'," Michael says, and now there's a clear smile.
Sara picks the bottle up and twists it as hard as she can. It careens unevenly as it spins, moving a few inches across the carpet before it slows and points to the empty space between Alex and Michael. "I think that means someone has to claim the kiss."
"When I was a kid, it meant you had to kiss both people." Alex says it with such casual confidence that Sara can't tell if he's lying or not. It might not be a real rule, but it is a convenient one for their purpose.
"Both it is," she says, planting a hand on the carpet and bending over towards Michael. This time, Michael's already leaning closer, lips soft and parted. A hint of hesitation, that's all and then there's the warmth of Michael's mouth pressed to hers, the steadying weight of his hand resting against her shoulder. She licks against his mouth, tasting coke and something sugary, and it's long seconds before Michael pulls back and breaks the kiss. He stays close for a minute, face inches from hers, hand still on her shoulder, watching her.
Something changes. She's not sure what.
Michael sits back on his heels and looks to Alex. "Sara told you what I said," Michael says slowly. It's not a question, it's Michael thinking aloud. "That's what this is about. An excuse."
"Not an excuse," Alex says, tone a bit harsher than Sara would have chosen. "A way of introducing it without making it too serious."
"Without spooking me, you mean?" Michael doesn't say why they'd try to protect him against his fears or what those fears would be. He talks as if Alex already knows, as if Alex should be able to follow the conversation without those tedious details spelled out. Luckily, Alex can usually match Michael step for step, thought for thought. "So you could pretend it was nothing more than a game?"
"So we can keep it what it is: indulging a kink. That's all it is."
Michael makes a spluttering noise but before he can reply, Sara covers his hand with hers and says, "This wasn't an ambush. We weren't trying to make you uncomfortable. We just thought that we could have fun with this, all three of us."
Michael shakes his head but he doesn't pull away. "There are some lines you can't uncross once you've passed them. Doing this," Michael says, and he's so serious she thinks he might be afraid and hiding it, "might ruin what we have."
Alex snorts out a laugh. It's genuine and not meant to be cruel, but she's close enough to see the way Michael shuts down a little more.
Michael needs coaxing, needs time. Needs to know this is his choice to make, Sara thinks as she watches Michael's eyes flick from her to Alex. This isn't a decision they're making for him.
"This wouldn't wreck anything," Sara says. She takes a wild guess. "Do you really think if I kiss Alex, I'll stop wanting to kiss you? That's not going to happen."
"It's not that you wouldn't want to, it's just--"
Alex talks right over him. "This doesn't work without you. Never has, never would. This isn't a way of sidestepping you to get to each other. It's just a way of sharing you more obviously." Alex keeps his chin up, staring defiantly at Michael like this is a challenge, like he's ready to defend that declaration if he has to.
It's not the approach Sara would use, but it works.
***
Later, when they're a sweaty pile on the floor -- when Sara's ankle is lying across Alex's knee, and Alex's hand draws distracted patterns against her hip, and Michael is curled up, sleeping soundly between the two of them -- Alex says, "Do you think we should have tried the direct approach?"
"Just asked him outright?" Sara asks. "Or just ambush him in bed?"
Alex shrugs, as much as he can while lying on the carpet with Michael's shoulder tucked against his collarbone. "Both. Either."
"We'll try it next time."
no subject
Date: 2010-08-09 04:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-09 04:47 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-10 11:13 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-10 10:40 pm (UTC)I've edited it now, so hopefully that works?
no subject
Date: 2010-08-11 09:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-11 11:24 pm (UTC)Thank you. The idea for this AU has been sitting in the back of my head for a while, so I guess it developed a bit of a life of it's own -- details and bits and pieces that never made it to the story because it wasn't needed, but was still sort of *there*, around the edges. I'm glad that came through on the story.