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Michael realizes that the smack might have been too much. He can’t take it back, not when Lincoln is looking at him like he’s thinking about wringing Michael’s neck and there’s a perfectly pink handprint on his square jaw.
He can’t take it back. And Michael doesn’t think that he would if he could.
Lincoln deserved the stinging reminder that he isn’t immortal, that his constant run-ins with the law will eventually end with him dead or in jail. So while Lincoln’s looking at him like he’s insane, which Michael very well may be with his big brother as the cause, Michael is shaking with adrenaline and jumbled emotions.
“One day, Michael.” Lincoln bites his lip and Michael knows that his brother is holding back. He doesn’t appreciate the effort.
Lincoln retreats to meddle around in the kitchen and Michael follows him with a smug grin. He won’t back down. Not this time.
“One day, you’ll what?” Michael challenges. “Stop being a selfish dick and start thinking about the future?”
The sound of breaking glass is the only sign that Lincoln threw the cup that had been in his hand into the kitchen sink. Michael didn’t even see him move.
His voice, however, sounds as if he’s gargled with the shards. “Where do you get off judging me? You’ve done nothing but wait for people to take care of you.”
Michael gapes and advances on his big brother, wanting to hit him again and again. Lincoln smirks at his silence as if he can read his mind.
“You wouldn’t know the first goddamn thing about caring for anyone other than yourself. I never needed you.” As soon as Michael says it he knows that he doesn’t mean a word.
But the reaction, Lincoln’s eyes going dark and stormy, his brother’s body hunching as if he’s ready to tackle the world and then some – Michael’s been looking for that spark of real emotion rather than the façade his big brother drapes over his shoulders like a superhero’s cape.
Lincoln strikes as suddenly as he smashed the glass and with the same results.
The kitchen counter digs into Michael’s back from where Lincoln has pinned him with his body weight. He can see every pore on Lincoln’s face and the flash of danger in his green eyes.
Anxiety hangs in the air. Want as well, so thick that Michael hopes Lincoln is choking on it.
“Next time you say that you better mean it,” Lincoln growls.
“Next time you get picked up,” Michael whispers, his heart his throat. “Don’t bother coming home.”
Lincoln hisses, wraps his hand around Michael’s neck and shoves him back. “Stop saying that. You need me.”
“No,” Michael whimpers. Lincoln’s hard in his jeans, pressed so tight into his hip that Michael swears that he can feel his brother in him already.
Lincoln’s hand tightens the slightest bit. “You need this. Admit it.”
Michael tries to move his hips to the side and Lincoln’s right there, pushing his free hand under Michael’s t-shirt and holding his torso tight. Michael grasps his brother’s forearm and pulls it down, eyes locked with Lincoln as the hand slides roughly down his throat and torso to cup around his growing erection.
Lincoln squeezes there, rubs the heel of hand relentlessly, and Michael still says, “Never,” as his hips quiver.
Another flash of anger from Lincoln and one of Michael’s legs is stretched around Lincoln’s hips, his brother holding him there when Lincoln thrusts his clothed crotch against Michael. Lincoln’s teeth scrape against the side of his throat and Michael tips up his chin, trying to breathe through a wave of dizziness.
Michael’s hands are useless on Lincoln’s back but he moves them down, cups Lincoln’s ass as he slams against him again and again, brings him in tighter even though Michael can hardly think. Lincoln’s sweaty forehead sweeps down his cheek and tucks into his neck, his brother’s body tightening around him like a vise.
It’s almost too much, Michael’s heart is pounding so hard that he wonders how Lincoln can stay on his feet with the force when he hears Lincoln whispering into his skin.
“Sorry, so sorry. Need you to need me, Mikey.”
Michael grasps Lincoln’s face at the words, brings his head up so that Michael can see his lips moving and can be sure that he isn’t hullucinating. Lincoln’s close, Michael can tell that and Michael tries to meet every thrust while he says with his eyes that he’s a mean liar who lies and how Michael loves him so much that sometimes he can’t breathe with the thought of losing him.
Lincoln blinks, seems to get it, then Michael pulls him in for a biting kiss. Lincoln groans and his body trembles as he comes in his pants.
Michael can feel the blossom of heat on his thigh and follows him over with a triumphant moan.
Later, when they’ve both stripped off their sweaty sticky clothing and climbed into bed with aching muscles, Michael admonishes Lincoln for being a danger seeking idiot who apparently believes every word Michael says even when all the evidence screams the contrary.
Lincoln smiles sleepily into his cheek. “You’re convincing when you’re angry.”
And Michael thinks that despite the bruises pissing off Lincoln does have it’s perks.
END