Categories > TV > Prison Break > Roles Reversed
Michael woke up to a loud sound, jerking a little in his sleeping bag the rocks digging into his forearms as he struggled from the confining space...his nephew was curled into the same sleeping bag as his brother Lincoln, and he smiled softly seeing them cuddled close together. The distant snores of Sucre and C-Note were heard as Michael eased himself from the tent that was stuffed with Abruzzi, his brother, and his nephew, having left T-bag to fend for himself in Sucre and C-note's tent.
T-bag himself was a very light sleeper, honed skill over a period of years. He could, almost literally, sleep with one eye open. He'd finally gotten tired of C-note trying to put his arm around him mid-dream and Sucre nuzzling into his hair, feeling oh-so violated by his tent-mates. He finally had the final straw when C-Note's hand brushed over his crotch, curling lightly - a yelp had left the southern man, a surprised sound that had briefly woken Sucre who yelled at T-bag to shut his mouth. The southern man scrambled from the tent, unable to sleep now from the nuzzling-nibbling-grope fest going on in there.
Michael peeked at the older man who was sitting at the fire, humming under his breath - a childhood rhyme - singing occasional verses as Theodore rubbed his face as if trying to scrub away the exhaustion. Michael's blue eyes watched the pedophiles movements, watched the way he stared up at the night sky and frowned. Michael stared hard at those lines etched in acid on T-bag's face the frown lines, the crinkles at the edge of his eyes which were more prominent when he smiled or glowered. The man's skin glowed orange by firelight as he continued to sing, and Michael caught sight of those white teeth, almost delicate in that foul mouth - little rows of ivory surrounded by a never depleating anger. The sight seemed to snap something in Michael and he spoke, dangerously soft.
"Do you mind shutting the fuck up, T-bag? Some of us are tryin' to sleep!" He snapped at the older man, jerking T-bag from whatever reverie he was lost in. A tongue flickered along chapped lips which curled into a snake's grin.
"Did I wake ya up from ya beauty sleep, Pretty? No' tha' ya need it, ya gorgeous enough as it is..." Came the mocking voice, and Michael stepped forward glaring coldly at him. This was it, his eyes spoke to T-bag and the older man stood up, still shorter than Michael still much more slender. Weak. The word exploded in Michael's brain and his brows furrowed, he was stronger than T-bag, and it was fear that made people think T-bag could kill them.
A smirk curled those beautiful lips.
"You don't scare me anymoe, Theodore.." The name was purred with mockery, as he began to walk towards the smaller man who stood there with a guarded, suspicious expression on his face. Michael's hips swayed gently as he walked...no...stalked towards Theodore - and those dark brown eyes widened in comprehension. T-bag was the prey now. Michael the predator.
Now that the roles were reversed, Theodre felt it - the panic. The fear. And he did what anyone would do...he turned and ran, fleeing into the thick forest with Michael hot on his heels. He knew if he stopped, if he stumbled and Michael got his hands on him that he'd have no help...and he'd die. Michael would kill him because Theodore no longer frightened him, no longer bothered him. And that was Theodore's saving grace in prison and this free world he had been unleashed in, his -only- saving grace was that he bothered the others, put them on edge, in fear of him in a little way.
And as Theodore's luck would have it, his karma catching up, his boot caught into a tree limb and spilled him to the ground, his forehead scraping against the dirt and rocks, causings sparks of agony so like a poker going through him to shoot through his body and he rolled over as Michael bore down on him as Theodore threw his hands up when he felt Michael's heavier weight slam onto his middle, holding him down. Flailing beneath the man who now held his wrists in a grip that Theodore couldn't break, he was helpless.
'You're vulnerable' screamed through Theodore's brain and that made him struggle harder. Screaming wouldn't do any good because there was no one to help him as the tears leaked down his cheeks unbidden and mixed with the soil which thirsty soaked up the salt crystals. He slowed his struggles and stared up at Michael with those now watery brown eyes, fear coursing through his body.
Michael stared at the man beneath him, his heart thudding against his chest the desire to hurtbitebreak pouring through him, and he leaned down and caught those trembling lips in a kiss that made T-bag arch upwards beneath Michael, who was still holding him down fiercly not wanting to release this new-found power he had tapped into. Feeling Theodore struggle beneath him feebly thrilled him in darkly lit ways, made him feel like the shadows were parting and wrapping their tendrils of silk, satin and blood around his once pure soul. Tainted as he kissed T-bag. He pulled away and slapped T-bag, then got off him dragging the older man up with him and the shoved him onto his stomach, listening to the sudden expulsion of suprised air.
"Now...we'll see whose the bitch, won't we, Teddy?" Purred Michael, as he forcibly stripped the older man who was hard from the sheer fear of this sudden dominance. Michael's hands smoothed over Theodore's back tracing the grooves of muscle then he pressed his clothed dick to Theodore's ass lightly, groaning under his breath - this is what the power felt like, Michael realized. The power to cause fear, a fear so strong that it made you hard, made you writhe in abandon when you wanted to crawl away screaming. This is why T-Bag always wanted the younger cell mates.
Theodore was experiencing that fear right now. He knew he wouldn't let it be a lasting impression, but he let the younger man inflict this on him without realizing that he could fight back - he was so intimidated at the moment that he cringed when he heard Michael's zipper being pulled down, the sound of Michael spitting on his palm and lubing up his cock. Theodore bit his own arm to muffle his scream of agony as Michael's cock tore through him, feeling the younger push and push until Theodore was fully seated onto that thick shaft.
Michael swore heavily under his breath, trembling and waiting for the feeling of hurthimhurthimbitescratchbleedfuckharderkillkillkill to subside, and began to shove himself forward into the man who tried in vain to not scream but the cries amplified with each slammng thrust made by the younger man. Michael's eyes were shut, clenched tightly as he gripped Theodore's hips tightly spearing him onto his cock repeatedly, the tight almost velveteen heat around him making his head spin. Theodore was tighter than any woman Michael'd been with, and this was hotter and so much more perverted than anything Michael had experienced.
Theodore's eyes were wide open and his lips were parted by the gasps leaving him, as he couldn't help but meet Michael thrust for thrust the pain in his backside subsiding now as pleasure washed over him, moaning a little here and there. But soon as he whimpered Michael's pretty, pretty first name, he felt those long pianist fingers curl into his dark brown locks and tugged his head back until he made a noise of pain.
"No. No names. Not here, not with you. You don't..ughnn.." Michael paused his angry hiss for a moan, "You don't get a name. You're a thing to me. You don't mean shit!" He snapped into his head watching those brown eyes roll to peer into his own blue ones. He kept his grip on Theodore's hair, removing his other hand from that slender hip to wrap it around that aching dick between Theodore's thighs, he stroked the older man quickly biting down into his shoulder as the other began to jerk against him, cries expelling into the darkness as T-bag came hotly in Michael's fingers.
Michael's moans grew louder as the lava that was boiling in his abdomen grew and spiraled up his spine, and exploded into his brain causing him to tug roughly onto Theodore's hair, sending his seed deep inside the smaller man who was still quaking against him. He pulled out of Theodore and engaged him in a clash of tongues and teeth, ravishing his mouth ruthlessly feeling the rough and silken texture of Theodore's tongue against his own, Michael's tongue licking at Theodore's gums, teeth and the roof of his mouth before engaging in another battle of tongues with that deranged pervert.
Theodore's body was roaring with ecstasy and agony and a feeling of notenoughneedmorekillhimkillhimhardermoremoremore... His hands scrabbled at sweat slicked flesh, holding himself closer to that kiss, to that body desperate for more of the young man before the kiss was broken because of air necessity. Michael and Theodore sat there panting, until Michael watched Theodore stand and redress, albiet with more of a wince on his face, and Michael was shocked when T-Bag spoke next, the fright that was there gone.
"Don't think you've won, Prettyfish. This little wars just gone and gotten started..." drawled the southerner, staring at the younger man's naked cock, exposed and still dripping..."Don't think I'mma forget this little night, neither. It's called a Photographic memory, the kind of memory I have." He said tapping his temple, as he turned and walked back towards the campfire. Michael sat there for a moment longer, digesting this and the feeling that he knew he'd just lost.
What he'd lost he was not certain, maybe his sanity. Blue eyes stared at a retreated back until the darkness enclosed over that figure.
T-bag himself was a very light sleeper, honed skill over a period of years. He could, almost literally, sleep with one eye open. He'd finally gotten tired of C-note trying to put his arm around him mid-dream and Sucre nuzzling into his hair, feeling oh-so violated by his tent-mates. He finally had the final straw when C-Note's hand brushed over his crotch, curling lightly - a yelp had left the southern man, a surprised sound that had briefly woken Sucre who yelled at T-bag to shut his mouth. The southern man scrambled from the tent, unable to sleep now from the nuzzling-nibbling-grope fest going on in there.
Michael peeked at the older man who was sitting at the fire, humming under his breath - a childhood rhyme - singing occasional verses as Theodore rubbed his face as if trying to scrub away the exhaustion. Michael's blue eyes watched the pedophiles movements, watched the way he stared up at the night sky and frowned. Michael stared hard at those lines etched in acid on T-bag's face the frown lines, the crinkles at the edge of his eyes which were more prominent when he smiled or glowered. The man's skin glowed orange by firelight as he continued to sing, and Michael caught sight of those white teeth, almost delicate in that foul mouth - little rows of ivory surrounded by a never depleating anger. The sight seemed to snap something in Michael and he spoke, dangerously soft.
"Do you mind shutting the fuck up, T-bag? Some of us are tryin' to sleep!" He snapped at the older man, jerking T-bag from whatever reverie he was lost in. A tongue flickered along chapped lips which curled into a snake's grin.
"Did I wake ya up from ya beauty sleep, Pretty? No' tha' ya need it, ya gorgeous enough as it is..." Came the mocking voice, and Michael stepped forward glaring coldly at him. This was it, his eyes spoke to T-bag and the older man stood up, still shorter than Michael still much more slender. Weak. The word exploded in Michael's brain and his brows furrowed, he was stronger than T-bag, and it was fear that made people think T-bag could kill them.
A smirk curled those beautiful lips.
"You don't scare me anymoe, Theodore.." The name was purred with mockery, as he began to walk towards the smaller man who stood there with a guarded, suspicious expression on his face. Michael's hips swayed gently as he walked...no...stalked towards Theodore - and those dark brown eyes widened in comprehension. T-bag was the prey now. Michael the predator.
Now that the roles were reversed, Theodre felt it - the panic. The fear. And he did what anyone would do...he turned and ran, fleeing into the thick forest with Michael hot on his heels. He knew if he stopped, if he stumbled and Michael got his hands on him that he'd have no help...and he'd die. Michael would kill him because Theodore no longer frightened him, no longer bothered him. And that was Theodore's saving grace in prison and this free world he had been unleashed in, his -only- saving grace was that he bothered the others, put them on edge, in fear of him in a little way.
And as Theodore's luck would have it, his karma catching up, his boot caught into a tree limb and spilled him to the ground, his forehead scraping against the dirt and rocks, causings sparks of agony so like a poker going through him to shoot through his body and he rolled over as Michael bore down on him as Theodore threw his hands up when he felt Michael's heavier weight slam onto his middle, holding him down. Flailing beneath the man who now held his wrists in a grip that Theodore couldn't break, he was helpless.
'You're vulnerable' screamed through Theodore's brain and that made him struggle harder. Screaming wouldn't do any good because there was no one to help him as the tears leaked down his cheeks unbidden and mixed with the soil which thirsty soaked up the salt crystals. He slowed his struggles and stared up at Michael with those now watery brown eyes, fear coursing through his body.
Michael stared at the man beneath him, his heart thudding against his chest the desire to hurtbitebreak pouring through him, and he leaned down and caught those trembling lips in a kiss that made T-bag arch upwards beneath Michael, who was still holding him down fiercly not wanting to release this new-found power he had tapped into. Feeling Theodore struggle beneath him feebly thrilled him in darkly lit ways, made him feel like the shadows were parting and wrapping their tendrils of silk, satin and blood around his once pure soul. Tainted as he kissed T-bag. He pulled away and slapped T-bag, then got off him dragging the older man up with him and the shoved him onto his stomach, listening to the sudden expulsion of suprised air.
"Now...we'll see whose the bitch, won't we, Teddy?" Purred Michael, as he forcibly stripped the older man who was hard from the sheer fear of this sudden dominance. Michael's hands smoothed over Theodore's back tracing the grooves of muscle then he pressed his clothed dick to Theodore's ass lightly, groaning under his breath - this is what the power felt like, Michael realized. The power to cause fear, a fear so strong that it made you hard, made you writhe in abandon when you wanted to crawl away screaming. This is why T-Bag always wanted the younger cell mates.
Theodore was experiencing that fear right now. He knew he wouldn't let it be a lasting impression, but he let the younger man inflict this on him without realizing that he could fight back - he was so intimidated at the moment that he cringed when he heard Michael's zipper being pulled down, the sound of Michael spitting on his palm and lubing up his cock. Theodore bit his own arm to muffle his scream of agony as Michael's cock tore through him, feeling the younger push and push until Theodore was fully seated onto that thick shaft.
Michael swore heavily under his breath, trembling and waiting for the feeling of hurthimhurthimbitescratchbleedfuckharderkillkillkill to subside, and began to shove himself forward into the man who tried in vain to not scream but the cries amplified with each slammng thrust made by the younger man. Michael's eyes were shut, clenched tightly as he gripped Theodore's hips tightly spearing him onto his cock repeatedly, the tight almost velveteen heat around him making his head spin. Theodore was tighter than any woman Michael'd been with, and this was hotter and so much more perverted than anything Michael had experienced.
Theodore's eyes were wide open and his lips were parted by the gasps leaving him, as he couldn't help but meet Michael thrust for thrust the pain in his backside subsiding now as pleasure washed over him, moaning a little here and there. But soon as he whimpered Michael's pretty, pretty first name, he felt those long pianist fingers curl into his dark brown locks and tugged his head back until he made a noise of pain.
"No. No names. Not here, not with you. You don't..ughnn.." Michael paused his angry hiss for a moan, "You don't get a name. You're a thing to me. You don't mean shit!" He snapped into his head watching those brown eyes roll to peer into his own blue ones. He kept his grip on Theodore's hair, removing his other hand from that slender hip to wrap it around that aching dick between Theodore's thighs, he stroked the older man quickly biting down into his shoulder as the other began to jerk against him, cries expelling into the darkness as T-bag came hotly in Michael's fingers.
Michael's moans grew louder as the lava that was boiling in his abdomen grew and spiraled up his spine, and exploded into his brain causing him to tug roughly onto Theodore's hair, sending his seed deep inside the smaller man who was still quaking against him. He pulled out of Theodore and engaged him in a clash of tongues and teeth, ravishing his mouth ruthlessly feeling the rough and silken texture of Theodore's tongue against his own, Michael's tongue licking at Theodore's gums, teeth and the roof of his mouth before engaging in another battle of tongues with that deranged pervert.
Theodore's body was roaring with ecstasy and agony and a feeling of notenoughneedmorekillhimkillhimhardermoremoremore... His hands scrabbled at sweat slicked flesh, holding himself closer to that kiss, to that body desperate for more of the young man before the kiss was broken because of air necessity. Michael and Theodore sat there panting, until Michael watched Theodore stand and redress, albiet with more of a wince on his face, and Michael was shocked when T-Bag spoke next, the fright that was there gone.
"Don't think you've won, Prettyfish. This little wars just gone and gotten started..." drawled the southerner, staring at the younger man's naked cock, exposed and still dripping..."Don't think I'mma forget this little night, neither. It's called a Photographic memory, the kind of memory I have." He said tapping his temple, as he turned and walked back towards the campfire. Michael sat there for a moment longer, digesting this and the feeling that he knew he'd just lost.
What he'd lost he was not certain, maybe his sanity. Blue eyes stared at a retreated back until the darkness enclosed over that figure.
Sign up to rate and review this story