[identity profile] anisapologist.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] michaelxmahone
By: Anisapologist
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Michael/Lincoln, Michael/Alex Mahone
Summary: Here’s the next instalment. Alex and Michael can’t seem to let one another go.
Disclaimer: Yeah, I own PB…and Tom Cruise isn’t batshit crazy!

Almost two years later, Alex Mahone was standing in front of Michael Scofield again.

This time, as a spectator.

He had heard that Michael would be in town to promote and sign copies of his autobiography. He went to Border’s and stood on line like everyone else, his heart in his throat, until he reached the front of the line and stared down at his old lover and former nemesis.

“How would you like me to address this?” Michael asked, without looking up from the book, preparing to sign.

“To Alex,” Alexander said, and saw Michael freeze.

Slowly, he looked up and met the intense gaze of the former agent…and the world seemed to slow all around them until they were the only ones in the room.

“Come on, move on!” a bodyguard said gruffly to Alex, trying to make the line move faster.

Alex wanted nothing more than to take his lover and never let him go again. But he couldn’t get involved in…all of that, not again. He turned to leave.

Michael looked beautiful and composed. He looked in control, but Alex only had to glance at his hands to know the truth: they were shaking as he stared at his former lover, “This man can stay,” he whispered to at he bodyguard nearby.

They regarded one another in silence once more and Michael finally found his voice, “I’m almost done here…if you want to stick around? We can talk after?”

Alex nodded, “Sure.”

They didn’t do very much talking.

As soon as everyone was gone and Michael and he were alone in large hotel suite Michael was staying in, they tore at one another, stripping out of their suits and falling together in a heap on the rug in front of the fireplace, making frantic love.

Alex did try to stop things—or at the very least, slow them down. When Michael, gloriously naked and absolutely striking against the fire’s warm light, straddled him, he reached up, stilling the younger man, “Michael, stop! No…just wait…”

But Michael was having none of it. He grabbed Alexander’s hands and pinned them to the rug beneath them on either side of his old lover’s head, “YES!” he demanded and plundered the former agent’s mouth with his own, his tongue dipping into Alexander’s, tasting him. He groaned loudly, and moved downwards, covering Alex’s chest with desperate wet kisses and licks, pausing to nip and lick at the older man’s nipples before moving lower to suck his cock.

Alex lay tormented and turned on. He was drunk and horny and had missed Michael so very much…He wanted to stop Michael, but he simply could not. The other man’s beauty and his wantonness transfixed him, and he would be lying if he said that he didn’t miss Michael’s body, his mouth, his sex…

When Michael’s hot mouth closed around his cock, he moaned loudly and strobed his hips upwards, his hands flying to hold Michael’s head in place as he licked and suckled his old lover as if they had never been apart.

Alex simply closed his eyes and let it happen. And after he came down Michael’s throat, he passed out cold.

When he awoke, some time later, Michael was banging pots and pans around in the small kitchenette…rather loudly.

He stirred and turned, watching as his lover moved angrily around the kitchenette, obviously trying to make as much noise as possible.

“Okay, I’m awake. You can stop that now.” Alex said at last, sitting up, his head pounding.

Michael did stop, but glared at the older man. This was not the reunion he had hoped for, “You pass out? You get your rocks off and pass out?” he spat accusingly.

“I’m sorry!” Alex exclaimed, embarrassed, “I was drunk and….nervous as hell. I just…I’m sorry, Michael. But honestly, that wasn’t even supposed to happen…the sex, I mean. I just wanted to talk…”

“Bullshit!” Michael cut him off, slamming another pan down into the sink, “You could have talked to me in the bookstore. You came here to fuck!”

There was a cold silence as Alex tried to fathom why he had come to see Michael at all. The other man looked so hurt, so…undone by the previous evening’s events. He didn’t know how to explain his motivations to Michael, when he could not begin to explain them to himself.

Forcing himself to stand, which was no easy task, as he was sore from sleeping on a floor all night, he approached Michael cautiously, “Michael, please…let me…just talk to you, okay? I want to explain some things to you…if you’ll let me?”

Michael said nothing, but neither did he stop Alexander’s approach. He simply watched him with those amazing blue eyes, until Alex was well within Michael’s personal space.

“I’m sorry I left the way that I did. That was wrong. I should have waited for you to return, but I was…so confused. So angry. I just….fled.”

“That was two years ago, Alex,” Michael pointed out calmly, “I’m over it.”

Alex suppressed a laugh, “No, you’re not!”

Michael looked away, “Whatever, Alex. It’s in the past. What’s your point?”

Alex swallowed thickly and placed a hand on Michael’s shoulder, feeling the younger man shudder at the touch, “I just…I think about you a lot, Michael. I wish we could be friends again.”

Michael barked out a suspicious laugh, “We were never friends, Alex!”

That was true.

“Well, maybe I’d like to be—now, if you’ll let me.”

Michael seemed lost in thought, then he looked back at his lover, “No,” he whispered, and pressed his body, full length, to Alexander’s, “I don’t want to be friends…”

Michael—looking every bit the debauched whore part that he was currently playing—sat up on the counter, leaned back and spread his thighs lewdly, welcoming Alex between them and wrapping them around the slender waist of the older man, “I want to be lovers, Alex….I want you to fuck me…Make love to me…” he begged softly against the former agent’s ear and Mahone was gone.

“We can’t, Michael…I shouldn’t…”

“Yeah, you really should. You owe me one!” Michael replied, half serious and half in jest.

“Michael, stop…”

He stopped speaking as Michael led his already hard prick to his already prepared entrance and pushed it inside, “Fuck me here…fuck me now…” he groaned.

The moment he slid into Michael, Alex was lost to it. His hips began to move of their own accord, and his body fell into a rhythm it had always known. His eyes fell closed and his head tipped back and he gave in to the temptation without further thought.

Michael gasped at the invasion and let his eyes roll back in his head, savouring the moment. Clinging to the older man, he whispered, “Fuck me…”

So Alex did—he took Michael there, hard and rough, on the granite countertop, his head spinning with guilt and lust and pleasure and deep, deep regret.

Their twin orgasms were explosive and drained the last bit of energy from both of their spent bodies, leaving them both heaving and panting and entwined in one another’s arms.

Alexander stood there, leaning against the counter, still inside Michael, feeling the younger man gnaw lightly on his collarbone as he relaxed, lowering one leg from around Mahone’s slender hip slowly, whining softly as the older man slipped from his body as a result.

“Michael…” Alexander whispered as the other man sucked hard on his neck, his shoulder, clinging to him as if he were drowning.

“Michael, stop!” he said at last, too sharply, pulling back abruptly out of Michael’s arms. The younger man just looked up at him with a confused, if dazed, expression. He always looked so innocent, Alex thought briefly, even when he was completely debauched, he looked innocent and childlike.

“This can’t…this shouldn’t have happened…”Alex stuttered, reaching down to awkwardly pull his pants up avoiding the hurt look on Michael’s face, “We can’t…”

“Why not?” Michael asked in a small voice.

Alex sighed heavily, “Because Michael, I…Pam and I…we’ve decided to…give things another go—for Cam’s sake and…”

His voice trailed off and he wondered, briefly, if his words sounded as hollow and fake to Michael as they did to himself. He managed a contrite smile in Michael’s general direction, “I’ve been…meaning to call you and…tell you everything. I didn’t expect you to show up and seeing you again just made me…”

“Horny?” Michael laughed—he didn’t say it in a sarcastic way, an angry way, even though he had every right to be angry and to feel used. He said it humorously, like he was trying to give Alex an out; tell him that it was okay that he was with Pam again—that Michael understood and forgave him, even though he had just treated Michael like a whore. Twice. The understanding, empathetic Michael was one that Alexander Mahone both loved and loathed—loved because it showed what a kind and giving soul Michael Scofield was, and loathed because it spoke of Michael’s nonexistent self-esteem and his sad acceptance that no one would ever love him or stay with him, “It’s okay, Alex…I understand. Pam and Cameron were the only things you ever talked about back in Sona. I guess I should have known we would never last….that you’d go back to her.”

When he came back to himself, Mahone realised he was staring at Michael and had yet to say another word. He snapped himself out his daze with effort, “Its just that whenever I’m with you, around you…I can’t…control myself. I thought I could—but now I know I can’t. I’ll always love you, Michael—always want you…I guess that’s why…I can’t see you again. It’s not fair to Pam—it’s not fair to you. I’m sorry I came here at all.”

Michael nodded, began to put himself together again, buttoning his shirt slowly, his fingers shaking with emotion that he was struggling to control, “Just let me ask you one thing.” He whispered hoarsely, “Just one thing—then you can leave.”

Alex nodded, “Of course, Michael—anything.”

The piercing blue eyes bore straight through Mahone, “Did you ever…I mean, when we were…together…was there a time when you loved me?”

Mahone closed his eyes against the tears that threatened to burst forth at Michael’s words, and the pain behind them, “Oh Michael….yes. I did love you…so much. I still do…I love you, Michael.”

He opened his eyes and stared back into the endless blue eyes of his former lover, trying to convey his sincerity through his gaze alone. Michael managed a sad smile and looked away first, nodding and biting his lip as he stared at the floor, “Okay…”

He left moments later. Alexander looked up at Michael’s window as he pulled out of the parking lot.. He figured that life has taught Michael Scofield many things—and one of them was to never, ever wait at the window for a loved one’s return—there was no one in the window when he looked up.

Michael lived without Alex the way he had always managed to live without those he loved—he functioned like a robot.

He went to speaking engagements that paid well and turned down the rest. He painted and re-painted his master bedroom, trying to find the right colour of taupe. He ate and slept and occasionally had sex with strangers, never the same person twice. He talked to Lincoln on the phone, and visited LJ at university. He did, but he didn’t feel. He existed but he did not live.

And it was like that for a long time until one Saturday morning, when his doorbell rang and Alexander Mahone—a man never far from his thoughts—entered his life once again.

“Hello, Michael.” Alex said, his voice soft and resigned. He half-expected the other man to slam the door in his face—and he wouldn’t have blamed him if he did.

Michael’s eyes were as cold as a February morning, “What are you doing here, Alex?”

“I was…in town…” Alex stammered. He had rehearsed an entire speech countless times, but now that he was face to face with his former lover, the words eluded him, “I just…wanted to see you…”

Michael cocked an eyebrow coldly, “Really? I thought you made it clear the last time we saw one another that you didn’t want to see me anymore. That life was…peachy without me.”

Alex let out a heavy sigh and looked down at his shoes,. This was going to be a great deal harder than he had hoped. He was drunk, and Lincoln had warned him that when he was drunk, Michael could be argumentative, aggressive, and even cruel.

“A little early to be drinking, isn’t it?” Alex asked, trying for casual observation.

Michael, of course, saw right through it, “Been talking to Lincoln, I see. I’ll tell you what I tell him: I’m a grown man and if I want to drink at ten in the morning—or one in the afternoon…or eight in the fucking evening, I can. It’s none of his business—and it sure as hell isn’t any of yours. So, I’ll ask again: what do you want, Alex?”

“ I know that I…hurt you, Michael. I’m so sorry. I was…so stupid.” He said solemnly.

Michael rolled his eyes in contempt, “So…things didn’t work out with Pam, so you’re coming back to me, huh?”

Alex shook his head sadly, “It’s not like that.”

His old lover leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms, “Then what is it like, Alex?”

“May I come in?” Alex asked softly, not wishing to say all that needed to be said on a doorstep in the cold.

After a moment of indecision, Michael relented and turned to one side, making a sweeping motion to allow Alex to enter his home.

The two men stood awkwardly facing each other. “Do you want some…coffee?” Michael asked, breaking the silence at long last.

Alex smiled gratefully, nodding, “If you have some?”

Michael nodded and went into the kitchen, grateful for the chance to escape the room and collect his thoughts without Mahone watching his every breath. He had not been prepared for this—and had no idea how to proceed.

For his part, Alexander had no idea what to say or do to make Michael realise that he did still love him. He feared it was all going to be too little, too late…but he had to try. He just had to.

Michael was trying so hard to play it cool, but his hands betrayed him. As he handed Alex a cup of coffee, the older man noticed his shaking hand and smiled sympathetically, “Perhaps I should have called first, not just turned up like this. I can see I’ve upset you.”

Michael’s face was a mask of pain, “No, its better that you came here. If you’d called, I would have just hung up. Now, why are you here, Alex?”

The way he said it, with just a hint of a sneer, reminded Alex for all the world of the old Michael, who had once been his adversary, before they’d given into a passion neither of them understood or comprehended. It seemed like so long ago now….

Michael stared out the large picture window in his living room, watching a light snow begin to fall as Alexander found his words. In the end, he settled for the simplest of explanations.

“I missed you so much, Michael.”

Michael said nothing, just squirmed in his chair, looking uneasy and very sad.

“One day about three months ago, Pam just gave me this look and asked me if I was still in love with you. I didn’t know what to say—because I was. She just smiled and told me that she understood, and told me to go and look you up. So, here I am.”

“That was three months ago,” Michael pointed out coolly, “What took you so long? I knew where I was.”

Alex took a deep breath, “I know, it took me a…while to work up the courage, you know? To be honest, I didn’t think you’d want to see me.”

Michael did look at him then, his eyes cold, calculating, “What makes you think that I do?”

“Well…you let me in,” Alex offered a contrite smile, “That’s more than I expected.”

Michael swallowed hard and stared at the floor.

“Michael, I’m sorry for what I said about you…about Lincoln,” He forced himself to say, “I’m sorry for…what I said about the two of you back when we were living together. I talked to him for a long time, and I understand why you did…those things with him. I tried to understand when you told me, but…I really didn’t. I just couldn’t get past the fact that he was your brother, that it was incest…I judged you, and I let it destroy us and I never should have let it do that. I am sorry, Michael.”

Michael did not react for a moment, but his breathing grew quicker and he looked like was about to cry, “Thankyou,” he managed to grit out between his teeth.

Alex toyed with the half empty bottle of vodka that sat on the coffee table between them, “He doesn’t want this for you. Neither do I.”

“He gives a fuck-all what I do!” Michael exploded angrily.

“Look, I went to see him about a month ago and we talked. He can’t stand to see you do this to yourself!” Alex couldn’t believe he was actually defending Burrows now, “He loves you and he doesn’t want you to a drunk, Michael.”

Michael’s eyes narrowed in anger. He was silent for a full minute before he said, through gritted teeth, “How dare you!”


“You heard me! How dare you! You left me….and not ONCE in a year and a half did I hear from you! Not once! Then you just…have the nerve to show up on my door and lay all of this…shit on me? Do you think I’ve been just sitting here for the last eighteen months, waiting for you to make your heroic return? You and Lincoln cook this up? Fuck him and fuck you!”

“He wants to help you, Michael, and so do I.””

“He’s one to talk. He can’t even remember LJ’s first five years, he was so fucked up on drugs, and now he has the nerve to call me a drunk?” Alex had never heard Michael so angry, “And you? The heroin addict from Sona—you’re one to preach to me about…anything!”

“You ARE a drunk, Michael—and you know it. And Lincoln has more right to call you that then most people. He’s been there. So have I. And we both know where it leads. You know where it leads as well! How can you be so stupid?”

“What did I have to live for, Alex? You left! Linc had LJ and now a new woman in his life. I was in his way….I had no one. Yeah, I drink! So what? What else do I have?”

“If you’ll let me be with you, you can have me.” Alex offered gently, expecting Michael to bite his head off. Instead, the younger man just stood there, crying softly.

“And… I needed to see you and say it to your face. If you don’t want me, I understand. But I wanted you to know that—in a life of…a lot of fucking mistakes…leaving you was the biggest one I ever made.” He added, watching Michael closely.

Michael wanted to come back with a biting, snarky comment, but he found himself unable to form any sort of reply in the face of such naked honesty and brutal vulnerability. Alex looked like he might break apart into a thousand pieces if Michael turned him away.

There was a moment more of hesitation…and then Michael was throwing himself into Alexander’s arms. He pulled back almost immediately.

“If you leave me again, I’ll kill you,” Michael said, sounding almost serious.

“I won’t leave you again.” Alex promised solemnly, and then they were kissing again….

Half drunk, the rest of the morning was a bit of a blur for Michael. He remembered being led to his bedroom, being laid down on his bed and stripped. He hazily recalled Alex laying on top of him and covering his body with soft, warm kisses. He remembered trembling with happiness and lust….he recalled being clinging to his old lover as he came, screaming his name….when he awoke hours later, he was wrapped around Alexander Mahone—and only then did he realise that it wasn’t a dream.

Alex opened one eye and smiled at Michael, “Hello beautiful,” he whispered.

Michael smiled, blushed, “I can’t believe you’re really here.”

“Believe it.” Alex replied, kissing him gently.

Michael took a deep breath, “What do we do now?”

Alex’s face fell serious, “Now, we do the hard work.”

Michael looked like a child as he whimpered, “I’m scared.”

“Me too,” Alex replied, “But we’ll get there, Michael. Together, we’ll get there. I promise.”

Michael Scofield nodded at Alexander Mahone. He believed him.

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