Title: The Morning After
Rating: M – with heavy sexual content.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. I'm just borrowing them to play with for awhile. No harm intended.
Prerequisites: This is the final story in my Prison Break fan fic trilogy. If you don't read Three Months and Almost a Year beforehand, you will not understand some references in this story.
Summary: Now that Michael is feeling better, Sara needs to perform a physical, but he only wants to get physical. Find out who gets what they want.
Michael yawned. He did not want to wake up. The room was incredibly humid and hot and his skin felt sticky. Or maybe it wasn't the room. He had a vague memory of being sick. Of Veronica wiping his head with a cloth and Lincoln pacing.
He rolled from his stomach onto his back and pushed the thin cotton sheet lower down his naked body. He had been dreaming... like he often did…. about that night in Sara Tancredi's farmhouse. The coconut-y smell of her hair as it brushed his face, the feel of her breasts against his lips, the pleasure of her hand sliding into his jeans…that night had been the one moment of happiness he'd experienced since he got himself put in jail. Probably, if he wanted to be honest with himself, since Lincoln got arrested.
He yawned again but kept his eyes tightly shut. He wanted more than anything to fall back to sleep and right back into that wonderful dream, because reality had become so…. hard. And void of Sara. But, as his brain slowly drifted unwillingly back into consciousness a new, unbelievable memory came with it. Kissing Sara in this very bedroom.
"Sara," he whispered softly.
"I'm right here," she answered back, like a miracle. He let his eyes flutter open and there she was – standing beside the bed with a glass of water in her left hand. She was wearing one of his T-shirts and a pair of his boxers she must have found in the dresser.
"I thought you could use some water," she began setting the glass down on the bedside table.
"I can't believe you're really here," he said his voice still thick with sleep. "I thought I had been hallucinating."
Sara smiled softly and took his wrist into her hand, placing her thumb over his pulse point she was quiet for a moment and then said, "You gave your brother quite the scare. Even last night after the first shot of glucagon you continued to have symptoms. In fact right here in this room –"
"I kissed you?" He sat up letting the thin cotton sheet pool at his waist, leaving his torso bare.
Sara's cheeks turned pink and in order to avoid the smirk on his beautiful lips, she focused on the contents of her medical bag. "Yes, and while you were kissing me, you started to pass out."
"Well, it was one hell of a kiss."
"I see your sense of humor made a full recovery," Sara shot back. "Let's see how the rest of you is doing."
She perched tentatively on the edge of the bed as she tied her blood pressure monitor to his bicep. He reached up and grazed her cheek. Sara patiently pushed his arm back by his side. He raised it again and this time played with the ends of her hair. "Michael…"
"My blood pressure is going to be through the roof." He told her softly.
"Why? Are you feeling light-headed?" Sara asked, concerned. She was more than a little worried Michael's prison tricks had led to permanent pancreatic deterioration.
"Because the sight of you in my underwear isn't exactly having a calming effect," Michael whispered and he bridged the gap between his lips and her cheek. He kissed it softly, and it felt like a butterfly's wing grazing her skin as he moved along her jawbone towards her lips. Sara shivered with pleasure but pushed those feelings to the back of her brain. He was her patient and she needed to remember that – for now.
Standing up, she firmly placed a hand on his chest she pushed him backwards. He flopped down on the mattress with a thud. The sheet rustled with his movement and through the sheet she could now see his a clear outline of his erection. She fought to move her eyes upward. "Where did your pants go?"
Sara, focus on his medical needs, she warned herself.
"I must have kicked them off in my sleep," he replied sitting back up and smiling like a Cheshire cat. "Unless you removed them for me and I don't remember…"
Her eyes made it halfway up his tattooed chest and then, after his comments, they slid downwards again. Sara! His life-threatening medical needs, not his potential blue balls for godssake!
He sat still, staring at her, while she pumped in the air and counted his heartbeats. Sara smiled in relief. "Your blood pressure is finally at an acceptable rate."
She caught his gaze and held it for a long moment. "Your eyes have changed," she told him.
His brow furrowed. "From the hypoglycemia?"
She shook her head and laughed lightly. "No, I mean the way you look at me. It's… changed. At Fox River you were always so… intense. But kind of… clinical. Your eyes would bore into me. Absorb me. But now… it's less… intrusive. More… intimate. "
He held her hazel eyes for a heartbeat after she spoke and then sheepishly averted her eyes, slowly lying back on the bed and focusing on the ceiling. "Sara, I'm sorry," he told her. "I had to do stuff Fox River I wasn't proud of. I hated having to lie to you and I… I hated having to…"
He looked at her quickly and then away again. Watching him so uncomfortable and embarrassed made her ache a little. "It's okay."
"It isn't okay," he told her his eyes never leaving the ceiling above. "But I had to get my brother out."
"And I was part of that plan," she said simply. "I know. I get it. I came to terms with it a long time ago."
"If I'd met you before this… Before my brother was arrested…" he moved his eyes from the ceiling to her. "I was a good guy, Sara. I was successful and law abiding. And I could have given you… something."
"Successful and law abiding," She repeated nodding and then cocked her head. "And now you're just a man who gave up everything and risked his life to stop an injustice and save an innocent man's life? And you honestly think that makes you less of a person to me?"
He stared at her for a moment, confused by her words. Then he shook his head as if disagreeing with the heroic slant she'd just put on everything. "My brother doesn't deserve to die. And I gave up a lot to make sure he didn't. The right to love someone like you is one of those things I gave up."
"You don't have the right to decide who you love – or who loves you, Michael." She told him firmly. "Now let me finish my exam please."
She reached down into her medical bag and pulled out the glucose meter as Michael sat back up. "Now I'm going to have to check your blood sugar lev-"
He was running his hand up the side of her bare leg. And it felt un-fucking-believable.
"I need to check your blood sugar levels," Sara managed to sputter out.
"Okay," Michael replied as his fingers slid under the leg hole opening and around from her outer thigh to her inner thigh.
Taking a deep breath Sara grabbed his hand and removed it from her flesh. Her senses screamed in revolt. In one quick movement she pricked the skin on his index finger and waited for the meter to work.
"Well?" Holding the sheet in place, he swung his legs off the bed.
"Normal," she responded.
His eyes were dancing mischievously. "So I'm healthy?"
"Well, I wouldn't go running any marathons…"
His arms wrapped around her waist and he began to pull her downwards. Despite her mild resistance, she ended up with her knees on either side of him on the bed, sort of straddling him. "Marathons aren't the type of exercise I had in mind," he told her.
Before she could think of a response, his lips captured hers. Her medical brain imploded. She dropped the glucose meter and wrapped her arms around his neck. Michael held her jaw with one hand, while the other slipped under her t-shirt, desperate to find bare flesh.
She brought her hands to his face, holding it gently as their tongues dance and their bodies pressed up against each other. She could feel his erection pressing into her through the worn cotton of the thin sheet and the soft flannel boxers she was wearing and it made her wet. Almost a year was a long time to go without touching a man - especially a man her body seemed to need so badly.
His hands were running everywhere under her T-shirt now – over her back, around her shoulders and down to her breasts where they groped and kneaded hungrily. Michael had moved his mouth down her neck.
She kissed any part of him she could – his head, his cheek, his neck. She hit that spot – the one she'd discovered in the darkness of the farmhouse – right behind his ear… just below the lobe. It made him arch his back arched slightly and he let a soft, thick grunt escape his lips.
She smiled. It was such a turn on for her to be able to make him lose control. He'd spent so much time in control – controlling everything and everyone – but her lips on that spot gave her all the control.
"Sara." he whispered as she kept sucking on that spot and he finally realized there was way too much fabric between them. He pulled her shirt over her head and threw it to the ground. Pushing her back onto her feet in front of him, he brought his lips to her exposed stomach. She let him lick and kiss and nip at her navel, her hipbone, her abdomen, as his long, slender fingers tangled themselves in the waistband of the boxers.
He looked up at her for a second, his eyes a kaleidoscope of blues, grays and greens made darker with passion. She reached out and let her hand move over his strong jaw line as he slid the boxers off her body and replaced them with his mouth.
Michael explored the delicate skin between her thighs with his mouth, slowly snaking his tongue between the folds of her sex and dancing it teasingly over her clit. In what felt like seconds, she came. Hard. Her knees gave out and her head spun. Michael's arms were around her and he guided her back to the bed, where she resumed her previous position – one leg on either side of him – and buried her head in his neck. She heard him chuckle lightly, apparently pleased with himself. "Maybe we should check your blood pressure?"
Sara blushed despite herself. She lifted her body away from him slightly and pushed the sheet completely off his body. Reaching between them she grazed her palm and fingertips over his naked shaft and whispered, "This is your physical, Michael Scofield. Not mine."
Sara shifted her body again and Michael found himself fully inside her. He moaned from the pleasure and it was her turn to smile. She slid up and down with a slow aching rhythm that made Michael's head spin. She kissed his neck, his shoulder and that spot she'd discovered behind his ear, which made him push his hips up into her with such force it almost knocked them both off the bed.
Slowly but surely, her pace became more frantic and their hands and lips roamed each other hungrily. Then suddenly Michael wrapped his arms tightly around her. Holding her to him, he grunted and grazed her shoulder with his teeth as he shuddered his release. Slowly, he began to fall backwards across the double bed, pulling her with him so she was lying on top on him. He placed his lips on hers.
He broke the gentle kiss minutes later and she stared down at him, her hair encasing them like curtains on either side. He held her gaze for several seconds, running a hand up and down her back lightly. "You called him an innocent man," Michael whispered suddenly.
Sara looked at him confused, her eyes and mind clouded with euphoria. Michael spoke again. "You said I risked everything to save an innocent man. You think Lincoln's innocent?"
Sara touched his cheek softly. "I think that you wouldn't have done everything you did if you didn't know without a doubt that he was. And I know without a doubt that I trust you and I believe in you, Michael," she explained in a hoarse whisper. "If you believe he's innocent, I know he's innocent."
Michael's eyes filled with tears and he wiped them away with the back of his hand. Sara made a soft noise in the back of her throat, something that came out of shock from seeing him cry. "Michael? What's wrong?"
"I love you," he answered and reached up and pulled her lips to his. "I love you so much. I don't want to do this anymore. I want all the mess to be… gone and I just want to be with you."
Sara rolled off of him and pulled him over so she could hold him to her and sooth him. "I'm standing by you in this Michael. I'm staying with you."
"But you can't."
"I have to," she said her own eyes filling with tears. "I love you."