Warnings: Slashy incest
Summary: Michael and LJ spend some time together in Lincoln's absence.
Author's Notes: Post-escape, trying to be a little bit less action-y here.
LJ’s lying on the bed, reading, engrossed in some tattered old paperback with a picture of a pirate on the cover. His brow is furrowed slightly, as if he’s contemplating a particularly difficult math problem and he absently chews on his fingernail as he holds the book in one hand. He’s splayed out, took the time to get completely comfortable, propped up against one of the oversized cushions. His t-shirt’s come up just a bit and Michael finds himself staring at that little bare patch of skin above his jeans.
LJ looks up from his book.
“Whatcha lookin’ at?” he asks casually and Michael shifts uncomfortably, blushes.
He meant to sneak away before the boy had noticed, he hadn’t meant to stare so long. But he just couldn’t help it.
“Just looking at you,” Michael says quietly and LJ gives him an impossibly teenage look which only serves to make Michael feel like a complete dork and also very old.
“Well stop it, you’re creeping me out,” he says and then suddenly he smiles and wriggles a little, “Unless you want a show…”
And he sets the book down now, his fingers hooking into the sides of his jeans and sliding them down his hips slightly.
Michael puts up a hand to stop him, trying not to frown. The illusion has been broken now, that peaceful beauty that had possessed the boy earlier is gone, replaced by something that although isn’t entirely unpleasant, is just not the same.
“No, that’s fine,” he says, then asks, “Do you always have to be so…” He searches for the right word and finally comes up with “horny”.
LJ pretends to ponder for a moment before responding with “Um, yes.”
Michael smiles as he sits down on the bed next to his nephew, picking up the paperback.
“Where’d you find this?” he asks as LJ snuggles closer.
“Flea market. It was fifty cents.”
He leans in to Michael, his lips brushing against his uncle’s neck, only a ghost of a kiss and Michael feels a shiver run through him, cold as ice and yet oh so hot.
“Where’s dad?” LJ asks, breath warm against Michael’s skin.
“Out.” Michael swallows hard, unable to continue as LJ finds that one sensitive spot on his neck. “Getting groceries,” he manages to squeak and LJ giggles at his reaction, a sound so innocent and almost child-like that for a moment Michael reconsiders what they’re inevitably about to do.
And then LJ’s mouth finds his own and the hot and cold spreads throughout his entire body and freezes out the guilt and burns up all his inhibitions. And all it leaves in its wake is desire.
He kisses back forcefully, almost desperately, and then LJ is climbing on top of him, pressing against him, writhing and Michael’s suddenly reminded of his eighteenth birthday when Lincoln took him to that sleazy strip club down on 3rd and he blushed and stammered while one of the girls gave him a lap dance.
That woman had been twice your age. And LJ’s only half.
He breaks away from the kiss slowly, his head leaning back slightly, LJ following him until he realizes that Michael wants to stop.
“What?” he asks, their faces only inches apart, “You don’t want this?”
Michael can see the hurt in his eyes and he hears the real words behind that statement.
You don’t want me.
But he’ll always want LJ. How can he not? And he feels horrible for ever making the boy doubt himself, for making him doubt Michael’s love for him.
He knows what they do is wrong. He knows that he should never have let it go this far. But now they’re here and he can’t just leave, can’t just say “See ya later, it’s been great!” Not when LJ’s been rejected so many times before. So really, it’s better if he stays.
At least that’s what he tells himself.
He shakes his head and kisses his nephew on the lips, just a quick peck before saying “No. I want it.”
And LJ smiles, reassured, knowing that he’s still loved.
He rocks his hips against Michael’s, wanting more contact, needing it, but he’s so wound up right now that’s he knows it won’t be long before he’s done and why did he have to be a teenager?
He feels embarrassed, he wanted it to be good for his uncle, but he can’t help it. Just being so close to Michael, touching him, kissing him. It sparks something inside of him. And once that fire gets going, it burns bright, but it burns fast.
“Michael…” he breathes, pressing his groin against his uncle’s, “I can’t…”
“Wait,” Michael says as he grabs LJ’s hips, forcing him to stop, “Just wait. Think of something else.”
“I can’t,” LJ says insistently and he feels his cheeks burn.
God, this is so embarrassing. But God, it feels so good.
“Just let me get my pants off,” Michael says and he digs his fingers into LJ’s skin, a warning, before letting go to undo his belt.
LJ rolls off of him, squirming around, scared that he’s going to come while Michael’s busy undressing.
“Take yours off too,” Michael says, “I want to feel you.”
And his words send a shiver through LJ, straight down to his groin. LJ climbs back on top of Michael, pressing his aching cock against him, the feeling even better now that it’s skin against skin.
Michael watches LJ intently, noticing everything. The little freckle above his right hipbone, a fading bruise on his left arm, the way his shaggy hair falls into his eyes, the way he bites his lip right when he’s about to come.
He wants to tell him that he’s beautiful, that’s he’s never seen anyone more perfect, but he thinks that LJ will just find it weird, in fact he knows that he will. So instead he only admires quietly, just a casual observer.
Well maybe a little bit more than casual. He can feel his own cock responding, growing harder as LJ rubs against him, but he’s trying not to pay attention to it. Right now he just wants to watch LJ, he just wants to focus on the beautiful creature writhing on top of him.
LJ’s movements become erratic and Michael wants more of him, craves more, so he wraps his hand around the boy’s cock and jerks him off roughly.
LJ whimpers as Michael’s hand closes around him and suddenly he’s coming, spilling himself all over his uncle’s stomach, all over his uncle’s hand. Michael strokes him gently as he recovers, almost trembling with the after effects of his orgasm.
“Sorry,” he murmurs and Michael chuckles.
“Sorry?” he asks, “You put on one hell of a show.”
LJ smiles wearily, pulling back from Michael’s touch now and he rolls off his uncle and flops down on the bed beside him.
“I love you Michael,” he says.
And suddenly, despite his present erection, all that guilt and pain comes flooding back to Michael. No, he should never have let it get this far.
He wants to say something to LJ, but he can’t seem to find the words. How can he explain everything that’s inside his head? How can he tell him that he wants this and yet he doesn’t? And most importantly, how can he do it without breaking LJ’s heart?
But he doesn’t have an answer for any of his questions, so instead he only smiles and leans down, kissing the top of LJ’s head.
“I love you too,” he says.
And this time there is no fire inside, only ice.