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ilcuoreardendoTitle: Eventualities
Song: “Ring of Fire” – Dear Park Avenue (covering Social Distortion)
Characters/Pairing: Michael, T-Bag
Genre: General
Notes: Another drabble created with the music meme.
He was used to people looking at him, even before he got the tattoo. Used to quick, furtive side-eye glances—that most men wouldn’t catch—from women, the head turns and full body look-overs from men. The appraisal. The consideration. The lust.
Lincoln had always used to tease him about being “pretty as a girl.” (At 15, that was what first prompted him to shave his head. But the absence of glossy curls only seemed to draw people’s attention to his eyes, his lips…and he’d had more than one encounter with women—and men—wanting to touch the fine stubble on his scalp.)
In his last months of freedom, he’d been drowning in a sea of black-ink blue prints, organizing supplies, storage rentals, a car purchase, and managing several verging-on-black-market dealings; he’d given little consideration to what looks like his would mean inside the walls of Fox River.
Until, as he was undressing during his processing, he heard one of the guards say any boy looks like that is smart in shaving off his handle ‘fore he comes here. He’d resisted the urge to run a hand over his head.
Until, walking down the row of cells, he felt the eyes on him, the lingering stares, saw several inmates shuffle close to the bars, trying for a better look at the new meat; one of them—a bald man with a sloppy swastika scrawled on the fish-belly-white skin of his bicep, whose bulk seemed to fill the cell—blew him a kiss.
Until today, cornered by T-Bag on the bleachers.
The man had the lithe walk and steady gaze of a jungle predator and he offered up his pocket with a smooth twist of fingers and a smile that was all bared teeth, promising an amalgam of humiliation and pleasure-laced pain.
And when Michael watched the smiling eyes go cold at the rejection, watched the slow uncurling of T-Bag’s mouth, heard the warning-growl behind the dismissal, he cursed himself for not anticipating this event, for not having a contingency.
.
Song: “Ring of Fire” – Dear Park Avenue (covering Social Distortion)
Characters/Pairing: Michael, T-Bag
Genre: General
Notes: Another drabble created with the music meme.
He was used to people looking at him, even before he got the tattoo. Used to quick, furtive side-eye glances—that most men wouldn’t catch—from women, the head turns and full body look-overs from men. The appraisal. The consideration. The lust.
Lincoln had always used to tease him about being “pretty as a girl.” (At 15, that was what first prompted him to shave his head. But the absence of glossy curls only seemed to draw people’s attention to his eyes, his lips…and he’d had more than one encounter with women—and men—wanting to touch the fine stubble on his scalp.)
In his last months of freedom, he’d been drowning in a sea of black-ink blue prints, organizing supplies, storage rentals, a car purchase, and managing several verging-on-black-market dealings; he’d given little consideration to what looks like his would mean inside the walls of Fox River.
Until, as he was undressing during his processing, he heard one of the guards say any boy looks like that is smart in shaving off his handle ‘fore he comes here. He’d resisted the urge to run a hand over his head.
Until, walking down the row of cells, he felt the eyes on him, the lingering stares, saw several inmates shuffle close to the bars, trying for a better look at the new meat; one of them—a bald man with a sloppy swastika scrawled on the fish-belly-white skin of his bicep, whose bulk seemed to fill the cell—blew him a kiss.
Until today, cornered by T-Bag on the bleachers.
The man had the lithe walk and steady gaze of a jungle predator and he offered up his pocket with a smooth twist of fingers and a smile that was all bared teeth, promising an amalgam of humiliation and pleasure-laced pain.
And when Michael watched the smiling eyes go cold at the rejection, watched the slow uncurling of T-Bag’s mouth, heard the warning-growl behind the dismissal, he cursed himself for not anticipating this event, for not having a contingency.
.