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Open Wounds	By : Sherlocked221B Category: M through R > Prison Break Views: 2267 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these Prison Break characters (although what fun I would have if I did!) and I make no profit from this fic!

Chapter List
- 1-Open Wounds
- 1
Lincoln tried to bury his hands even deeper in his pockets, trying in vain to keep them from getting any colder. It was a losing battle, since they were already cold to the point of being numb.

He glanced up at the large clock at the end of the street. 8 pm. His dealer had better hurry up. He had promised he would spend the evening with Michael. They were both single this New Year's Eve, so they had decided they would spend it together this year.

Yet, here he was, standing in a freezing alley, waiting for his dealer. But after that, it was home to Michael. He's just some a little bit on the way home, then the rest after Michael went to bed. His brother would never even have to know about it.

***

Michael surveyed the living room. Everything was ready, perfect even. He was completely prepared. He was also a complete dork.

He sighed and sunk down onto the couch. He had been planning this night for months. He and his brother were both without girlfriends, so Michael had invited Lincoln to spend New Year's Eve with him. He had snacks, he had beer, and he had Star Wars. It was going to be a good night...if Lincoln ever showed up.

Michael checked his watch again. 8 pm. Lincoln was an hour late. Hopefully he was okay. Hopefully he remembered.

"Hopefully he didn't blow me off for some girl," Michael mumbled out loud.

***

Lincoln flipped up the collar of his coat and shivered. This was ridiculous. He glanced out at the clock again. 8:30. Fuck. Lincoln glanced around before pulling the remnants of a joint out of his pocket. Probably wasn't even enough to catch a buzz...but he was craving even just the taste.

He fumbled through his pockets to find his lighter, and then held the joint to the flame until the end was toasted red. He then brought it to his lips and took a long deep pull, the acrid smoke stinging his lungs. He held it in until it started to burn, then exhaled slowly. He felt a little warmer already. Another two hits and it was gone. Lincoln ground it out with his boot, and then buried his hands back in his pockets. He didn't quite have a buzz, but he felt a little less cold...and a little guiltier.

***

Michael was finishing his second cup of coffee when the clock hit 8:30. He sighed, and pondered making a third. He glanced out onto the balcony and decided what he really wanted was a cigarette. He pulled on a sweater then headed out through the sliding glass doors.

The night was quite warm, with a beautiful full moon illuminating the city. He fumbled with a match, struggling against the light breeze to get it lit. Finally he succeeded, the first drag burning his chest, but he suppressed the cough, holding it in.

He exhaled slowly, enjoying that dizzy feeling you get with that first cigarette after going weeks without one. He followed it with a deep drink of steaming coffee. He felt slightly more relaxed.

***

As Lincoln still stood waiting, he watched two young boys come out of the coffee shop across the street. They walked a few steps from the door, clutching their steaming mugs for warmth. The smaller boy dug out a lighter and passed it to the other, who lit a smoke. Lincoln watched how their hands lingered a little too long, how they stood a little too close...the tight grins and the lingering eyes. He knew that look, and he knew what the two boys would be doing later.

Lincoln leaned back against the bricks of the alley and let his mind wander back to years ago...back to when he and Michael were younger. Back to when they looked at each other like that...

He could remember the night vividly. They had only been living in the apartment a few weeks. Their mom had been dead for only a few months. Lincoln was lying in his room and had just sparked up a joint when Michael walked in without a word and sat on the edge of the bed.

Lincoln had tensed up, expecting to get yelled at, expecting to get a lecture. However, Michael had surprised him.

"Can I have a puff?" Lincoln quirked up an eyebrow

"Now why would you want any of this stuff? Last I heard, you were completely against it."

"Well, you seem to like it. I figure there must be something amazing about it, since you feel the need to smoke it constantly."

Lincoln ignored the sarcasm that had crept into his brother's voice. He grinned and got up off the bed.

"What are you doing?" Michael asked.

"I’m putting on some music. You cannot fully enjoy being stoned without Metallica." Lincoln put on the music, and turned it up, sounds of "Master of Puppets" filling the small room. Lincoln then returned to the bed and sat beside his brother.

He could feel Michael studying him and cleared his throat. He re-lit the joint, taking a deep pull off of it.

"Make sure when you take a hit..."

"I know,” Michael said, cutting him off and taking the joint from his hand.

"What do you mean you know?"

"I've been watching you a long time, Linc," Michael said, taking in a deep drag of the acrid smoke. Lincoln was impressed to see that his brother didn't even cough.

The two of them finished off the joint, Metallica still pounding in the background. Lincoln sprawled back on the bed, content and glad for the company.

"How come you're home tonight?" Michael demanded. Lincoln was slightly taken back by the hostility in his brother's voice.

"Because I didn't feel like going out. I figured you'd be glad to have me home for once."

"Usually you're out wining and dining one of your girlfriends."

Lincoln just grinned. "You're just jealous."

Michael snorted. "Jealous? Of what?"

"The fact that I have girlfriends."

"I have girlfriends," Michael protested. Lincoln’s grin spread.

"Let me rephrase that: You're jealous that I'm getting some from my girlfriends."

"You don't know I'm not getting any!"

Lincoln laughed. "I bet you don't even know how to kiss."

Lincoln's next comment was cut off as Michael leaned over and firmly planted his lips on Lincoln's. His mind spun as he tried to grasp what was happening, his brain trying to compute that this was Michael's tongue pressing against his lips. The kiss became more urgent, but Lincoln never kissed back, refusing to acknowledge that his body was screaming for him to take Michael right then and there on the bed.

After what seemed like an eternity, Michael pulled away, looking almost as shocked as Lincoln. Without another word, he got up and left the room.

"Sorry I'm late." Lincoln snapped back to reality, his dealer, Josh, standing in front of him.

"It's about fucking time," Lincoln growled.

"Listen, I don't need this, man. I got people to see and shit to do. Do you want the stuff or not?"

Lincoln thrust a 20 at the other man, which the dealer took and shoved in his pocket. "Don't fuckin' rip me off this time either. You rip me off, I rip your head off. Got it?"

Josh swallowed hard. "Sure man. I'll even through in another gram, free of charge."

"I just need the one. Hurry the fuck up, I got stuff to do."

"Hot date?" Josh asked, digging a small bag of weed out of his inside jacket pocket.

"Not quite," Lincoln said, taking the pot.

"Pleasure doing business with you, Linc."

"Fuck off," Lincoln muttered, pushing past the dealer. He already felt guilty enough. He headed across the street to the coffee shop, to grab a coffee and to roll up in the bathroom.

***

Michael sat with a fresh cup of coffee and a cigarette, watching CSI in awe. There were two men on the screen, in bed together and kissing passionately. Even 10 years ago you would never have seen something like that on TV. No wonder people felt too scared to come out, to let their true feelings show. The media, moreso than anything else, dictated what was "normal" in society. What was "normal" to feel and think about another man...

Michael leaned back, inhaling deeply. One of the men bore a striking resemblance to Lincoln. Michael watched the two men continue to kiss, his mind wandering back to that faithful night when he had truly turned his and Linc's relationship completely off the track of "normal."

They had been sharing a tiny run down apartment for several months. Lincoln went out and worked long shifts, while Michael continued with school and kept house. He rarely saw Lincoln for more than a few minutes each day. When he wasn't at work, he was out with one of his many female "friends"...getting stoned and fucking their brains out.

However, on this rare occasion, Lincoln was home for the evening. Michael wasn't sure what had occurred to bring about this shocker, and he didn't really care. His brother was home, and he was going to spend a little time with him.

He opened his brother's door without knocking. As per usual, Lincoln had a joint hanging from his lips. Lincoln had tensed up, probably expecting another lecture on the harm marijuana was doing to his body and mind. Michael decided to shock his brother for once.

"Can I have a puff?"

Lincoln quirked up an eyebrow. "Now why would you want any of this stuff? Last I heard, you were completely against it."

"Well, you seem to like it. I figure there must be something amazing about it, since you feel the need to smoke it constantly." Michael hadn't meant for that bitter edge to creep into his voice. Lincoln never seemed to notice, but he did very suddenly get off the bed and walk across the room.

"What are you doing?" Michael asked.

"Putting on some music. You cannot fully enjoy being stoned without Pink Floyd." Lincoln put on the music, and turned it up, sounds of "Dark Side of the Moon" filling the small room. He than returned to the bed and sat beside his Michael.

Michael stared at his brother, knowing he was making him uncomfortable, but not caring. Lincoln cleared his throat nervously, and then re-lit the joint, taking a deep pull off of it.

"Make sure when you take a hit..."

"I know,” Michael said, cutting him off and taking the joint from his hand. He really enjoyed the stunned look at his brother's face. Lincoln looked so cute when he was confused.

"What do you mean you know?"

"I've been watching you a long time, Linc," Michael said, taking in a deep drag of the acrid smoke. It burned worse than he had ever expected, but he held it in, determined not to cough. He succeeded and greatly relished the impressed look on his bother's face.

The two of them finished off the joint, Pink Floyd still pounding in the background. Michael later figured out that the song was "Comfortably Numb" and even in his cloudy state, Michael could understand why this was a song you would get stoned too. Even not stoned, it was still one of Michael's favorite songs after that night. Lincoln sprawled back on the bed, looking content.

"How come you're home tonight?" Michael demanded. The marijuana clouding his senses gave him the nerve to flat out ask this question with such a tone. Lincoln looked hurt, however, and Michael instantly regretted asking it in such a way.

"Because I didn't feel like going out. I figured you'd be glad to have me home for once."

"Usually you're out wining and dining one of your girlfriends."

Lincoln just grinned. "You're just jealous."

Michael snorted. "Jealous? Of what?"

"The fact that I have girlfriends."

"I have girlfriends," Michael protested. Lincoln’s grin spread.

"Let me rephrase that: You're jealous that I'm getting some from my girlfriends."

"You don't know I'm not getting any!"

Lincoln laughed. "I bet you don't even know how to kiss."

Lincoln was just opening his mouth to speak when Michael suddenly had the backbone to do what he had wanted to do for a long time. He leaned forward and planted his lips firmly upon Lincoln's. Michael thought his brother would push him away, but he didn't. Michael pushed his tongue against his brother's lips, which he parted willingly, allowing Michael access to his warm, hot mouth. Michael kissed him with even more fervor, until it hit him. The only reason Lincoln was even allowing this was because he was stoned and nobody else was there to fool around with.

Michael pulled quickly away from his brother, and made a quick exit from the room, feeling more like an idiot than he had ever felt before in his life.

Michael was pulled from his thoughts by the phone ringing. He grabbed it off the table and answered.

"Hello?"

"Mike?" It was Lincoln.

"Where the hell are you?"

"I, uh, got a little tied up. I'm on my way though."

"Well, hurry the hell up!" Michael could hear the anger creeping into his voice. He could also hear the thick sound in his brother's, and knew that he was high.

"I'm almost to the apartment."

"Just hurry up, okay?" There was a long pause.

"Are you mad at me, Mike?"

Michael could hear the guilt in Lincoln's voice. He knew his brother would already be feeling bad about being late. Michael was just glad he hadn't been with some woman.

"No, Linc. Just worried. Hurry, okay?"

"On my way, bro"

"Alright"

"Bye"

Michael turned off the phone and sighed. He should have told him he was mad. He should have yelled and cursed him out for not showing up on time. Told him how it hurt that pot was more important than him. Told him how badly he wanted him here. He should have told him all the things he had wanted to tell him for years.

That's when Michael decided. He was going to tell Lincoln tonight. He would lay everything out on the table and tell him how he truly felt. Tell him how much that night all those years ago had affected him. How he wished that that moment had happened many times after, how that moment should go even further....that he wanted them to go even further.

Michael cracked a beer and drank deeply. He was going to need to be drunk for this. He walked across the room and unlocked his door, then headed for the deck. He needed a few moments to clear his head before Lincoln showed up.

***

When Lincoln reached Michael's door, he knocked quietly, but got no response. He tried the knob, which turned easily. He entered, and shut the door quietly behind him. He scanned the room. There was food and beer set out, but no Michael. He than noticed the patio door was open slightly, and grabbed a beer off the coffee table as he headed outside.

Michael was standing back to the door, a beer in one hand, a lit cigarette in the other.

"Thought you quit," Lincoln said, cracking his beer.

"I'm just a casual smoker now," his brother said, without turning around.

"Casual smoker is still a smoker."

Michael grinned to himself, the gears in his brain still turning, trying to figure out how he was going to broach the sensitive topic of their relationship with his brother.

"I'm glad you made it," Michael said.

Lincoln grinned that irresistible grin. "Wouldn't have missed it, Little Brother."

"Well, you've been known to blow off plans before."

"I know, and I regret all those times too, believe me. That's my resolution this year, actually."

"What? To keep blowing me off?"

Lincoln snorted. "No, you goof. To stop blowing off my duties, my responsibilities." He fixed his gaze on his brother's. "To stop hurting the people who are important to me."

Michael held his gaze for a few moments, and then turned his eyes away.

"Speaking of family, have you been talking to LJ?"

Lincoln swallowed a mouthful of beer. "The other night actually. I invited him to come over here with me tonight, but he already had plans. A party and something about a girl."

"Turning out to be a real ladies man, isn't he?" Michael said with a grin. "Just like his dad."

"Just like his uncle too," Lincoln said off-handedly.

Michael felt himself blushing slightly. "If memory serves me, you had way more women than I did."

"Yeah, but you had better women."

"How do you figure?"

"Well," Lincoln said, looking thoughtful, "You had higher-caliber girls. Nice, respectful, bring-em-home-to-momma girls. I just took whatever I could get. The less morals the better." Lincoln could feel Michael studying him, and cleared his throat. "But, we're supposed to be looking toward the future. What's your resolution?"

"I don't really know yet." Michael replied. Lincoln glanced at his watch.

"Well, you've only got a couple hours left, boy."

Michael took a drag off his cigarette, looking thoughtful. "My resolution is to be more honest. To stop keeping things inside, and speak my mind. Tell people how I really feel."

"That's a good one," Lincoln said. "Now, can you stick to that?"

Michael put his cigarette out in the ashtray on the deck, exhaling his last drag slowly. "Come on. Let's go inside. We've got food to eat and movies to watch."

"And beer to drink," Lincoln added, raising his glass as he followed Michael back into the apartment.

The two men entered the apartment, where Lincoln instantly flopped down onto the couch, downing the rest of his beer. Michael stood, somewhat awkwardly, not knowing quite what to do with himself.

"Something wrong?" Lincoln asked.

"No," Michael replied, with a weak grin. "I've just had too much coffee, I think."

"Have another beer then," Lincoln said, noticing that Michael's bottle was empty.

"Yeah, good idea," Michael said, sitting on the couch beside his brother and opening another beer.

Lincoln picked up the remote, and started changing channels absently. There didn't seem to be a whole lot on, but that was no real surprise.

"Did you want to start the movies?" Michael asked.

Lincoln shrugged. "Doesn't matter. We won't get through them all."

"Sure we will. I figured you'd just be spending the night anyway."

"Well, yeah," Lincoln replied. "But I don't really know if I can stay up until 8 o'clock in the morning."

"We used to all the time," Michael said.

"I'm not quite as young as I used to be," Lincoln said with a smile. "Hey, have you seen this yet?"

Michael glanced at the TV, not sure what exactly the movie was. There was a young, nice-looking boy in a cowboy hat.

"I don't know. What is it?"

"Brokeback Mountain," Lincoln replied. Michael was slightly shocked. This could be sufficiently awkward, considering what he wanted to talk about with his brother.

"Ummm, no actually. I haven't"

"I've only ever saw part of it," Lincoln said, setting down the remote and taking a drink of his beer. "It didn't seem too bad. It’s actually supposed to be a real good movie. Supposed to be real graphic too."

"You want to watch a movie with graphic, gay sex scenes?" Lincoln shrugged.

"It's supposed to be a good movie. I don't care who's having sex in it. I like westerns anyway."

"I don't think this is your typical western."

They sat in silence, watching the screen. Lincoln appeared to be oblivious to how awkward Michael was feeling with this whole situation. Michael needed to figure out a way to bring this up to his brother. He needed to do it before he lost his nerve.

"Do you have any pot?" Michael blurted out.

Lincoln turned and stared at his brother, open mouthed. "What?"

"Pot. Do you have any?"

Lincoln was unsure of how to answer the question. Was this some sort of a trap? "Why?"

"Because I want to smoke some. Why else would I ask?"

"I have a bit. Why do you want to smoke any?"

"I don't know. I just kind of had a craving, I guess. Neither of us needs to work tomorrow, it's New Year's Eve, why not let loose?"

Lincoln still stared at him, slightly wary of getting in trouble. This was so unlike Michael. He was up to something, that was for sure. He dug his pot and his papers out of his pocket.

"Just a small one?"

"Big enough to get us blasted."

"It takes a lot to get me blasted, Mike."

"Then enough to get me blasted. Geesh, I never thought I would see you so reluctant to smoke a joint, Linc."

"I never thought I would see you wanting to smoke a joint!"

"Are you going to roll it or not?"

"God, you're so demanding tonight," Lincoln muttered, as he started to roll up a good-sized joint. If Mike wanted to get blasted, he would get him blasted.

Michael watched as Lincoln rolled the joint. Michael realized that it really was an art, slightly akin to the origami Michael adored so much. Lincoln finished it up, and then dug out his lighter.

"You want me to light it?"

"You rolled it. Go for it."

Lincoln sparked it up, taking a few drags off it before he passed it off to his brother. "Don't take in too much at once. It's some pretty potent stuff."

The two brothers continued to pass it back and forth, until it was gone and Lincoln put it out in one of his empty beer bottles. Michael cracked another beer, his head feeling very fuzzy and heavy. When he moved his limbs, it felt like he was underwater. Lincoln observed his brother observing his hands, and laughed out loud.

"You seem a little stoned, Little Brother."

"More than a little bit," Michael said with a giggle. Lincoln laughed even harder, than stopped as his eyes landed on the television screen. Michael's eyes followed his brother's. not sure what had intrigued him.

"What?"

"They're so going to do it," Lincoln said.

"Well, yeah. That's kind of the point of the movie."

"Yeah, but they're not really going to show it, are they?"

"Yeah. You said yourself that it was graphic!"

"I know. I just didn't think..." Lincoln trailed off as things started to get quite heated on the screen.

The two brothers watched the slightly awkward love scene with a mix of amusement, curiosity and slight awkwardness. When the scene had finished, Michael's mouth suddenly started working faster than his brain.

"Have you ever done that?" he blurted out.

Lincoln stared at him for a moment. "What, have sex?"

"No. Well yes..." Michael started to blush. "I meant have you ever done that...with a guy?"

"You mean sex? With a guy?"

"Yeah," Michael said, swallowing hard.

"Ummm, no. Why the hell would you ask something like that?"

"I was...ummm, just curious I guess. It's the pot. My brain is not functioning right."

"Oh...yeah." Lincoln sat in silence for a few moments. "Have you...you know?"

"Have I?"

"Yeah. Have you done...that?"

Michael cleared his throat. This wasn't exactly how he had planned for this to go, but close enough.

"Ummm, not that exactly."

"Oh, but something...like that?" Lincoln asked awkwardly.

Michael saw this as possibly his chance to do it. It was now or never. "I kissed a guy once."

"Really? That was it? Just a kiss?"

"Yeah, just a kiss. I wanted more though. I still want more, but I don't think he does."

"So, you're saying that you are, you know. You're gay?"

Michael half smiled. "I don't really think I'm gay. Moreso bi, I guess. I fall in love with people for who they are on the inside. Doesn't matter at all what's on the outside."

"So who was it?"

"What?"

"Who was it? Who was the guy you kissed?" Lincoln asked, his voice sounding slightly too demanding.

Michael thought he also sensed a hint of jealousy. That made him smile. Maybe he was wrong...maybe Lincoln wanted this too. "It was you, stupid."

Lincoln felt himself tense up. He had been thinking about the very incident earlier. He mulled over Michael's words in his head. Then the words his brother had spoken hit him like a brick.

"Wait. You said you had wanted..."

"Wanted more? I know. I do."

Lincoln still didn’t understand. Actually, he understood fully, it was just admitting the truth of it all. "Michael..."

"I know, Linc. It's wrong, it's a sin, it's sick. I know. I can't help it though! Believe me, I've tried to rationalize it. I've tried to lie to myself, but it keeps coming back to that night and that moment."

"But Mike, it never should have happened! I don't know what you were thinking!" But, in truth, he knew exactly what his brother had been thinking. He had to struggle with those same feelings every time he and Michael had to share a bed, every time he saw Michael with his shirt off...

"I was thinking that I needed you, Linc! It tore me apart that you would rather spend all your time with those whores instead of me! Was I not as deserving of your love?"

"Of course you deserve it! Of course I love you, Mike! You know that!"

"But you don't love me like that," Michael said, motioning toward the TV screen.

Lincoln put his hands up to his face, rubbing his forehead. Where had this come from? Had Michael been feeling this all these years? Why had he never said anything? Though Lincoln had never said anything either... But this could not happen. He would not let it happen.

"Don't tell me you never think about that kiss," Michael said quietly.

"Of course I think about it!" Lincoln exploded. "How could I not think about it? It was wrong Michael! It never should have happened!"

"But you're glad it did."

Lincoln stared at his brother. "What is it you want from me Michael?"

"I want more, Lincoln. I want you to be mine. I want you to love me. Really love me. I want you to do to me what you've done to all those women. I want to feel your touch. I want to feel your body. I want to feel you inside of me."

Lincoln felt his breath catch. God, he wanted this. He had wanted this for years, but had refused to act on his feelings. He couldn't warp Michael like this. He couldn't drag him down into perversion. Yet, he wanted to feel those lips...those hands...that body. The thought of it was making his body stir.

"We can't" He said quietly. "Michael, you know we can't."

"But we can," Michael said, sliding closer to his brother. "What right does anybody in this fucked up world have to tell us what's right? Linc, we both want it. I can see it in your eyes. Just take me, Lincoln, I'm willing. I've always been willing." Michael had begun to slide his hand up Lincoln's thigh.

Lincoln moaned, shutting his eyes. He had been craving that touch for years. "Michael, I hope you know that once it's done, there's no going back. Our relationship will never be he same."

"I know," Michael whispered his lips close to Lincoln's ear." It will be even better."

Lincoln moaned, and grabbed the back of Michael's head, driving their lips together. This time, Lincoln was kissing just as desperately as Michael, just as eager and hungry as the younger man. Michael's hand slid up to the hardness in the front of Lincoln's jeans, making Lincoln thrust his hips against that groping hand. Now Michael's tongue was in his mouth, and Lincoln was pulling painfully on his hair.

"Bedroom," Lincoln gasped. "Now."

Michael obliged, disengaging his hand, and following Lincoln eagerly to the bedroom. Michael's head was spinning. This was it. This was finally it. He knew that after this, Lincoln would he his, only his. Forever.

Michael never even had time to shut the door before Lincoln had hold of his arm, shoving him forward onto the bed. If Michael wanted this, he was going to get it. There was no turning back now. Michael fell roughly onto the blanket and Lincoln was on top of him, tugging off his shirt and ravaging his chest and stomach with rough, wet kisses. Michael moaned loudly.

Lincoln suddenly sat up onto his knees, and started to undo his belt. Michael was watching him, his eyes large. Lincoln thought he saw a hint of apprehension on his brother's face.

"Take your pants off" he said gruffly.

Michael obliged, his hands shaking as he fumbled with his zipper. This was going a little faster than he had anticipated. Lincoln was being rougher then he wanted.

"Lincoln, can we maybe..."

"Get on your stomach," Lincoln said, stripping off his own shirt.

Michael rolled onto his stomach, just now beginning to wonder if this was going to hurt. Lincoln grabbed his brother's hip roughly with one hand, and lubed himself with spit and precum with his other. He rubbed himself against Michael's tight opening, feeling himself grow harder. He wanted this, oh god he wanted this, but it was wrong. In every possible way this was wrong. With one quick, hard motion, he drove himself clear up to the hilt into Michael.

Michael made a strangled sound, somewhere between a moan and a scream. It felt like he was being torn in two. There was a slight bit of pleasure as Lincoln's hard cock rubbed against his prostate, but the pain almost completely overwhelmed the feeling.

The heat and tightness of Michael's body was almost enough to drive Lincoln over the edge. He knew he should go gentle, he knew Michael was in pain. But, in some deep, dark region of his brain he was glad he was hurting Michael. He wanted Michael to suffer for driving him into this perversion. He wanted Michael to hate this and regret it. He wanted to drive any thoughts of ever doing this again from his brother's mind.

Michael moaned and Lincoln started pounding into him hard. He couldn't help but feel that Lincoln was trying to hurt him. He bit down on his lower lip to keep from screaming.

"Lincoln, you're hurting me."

"Shut up," Lincoln snarled, increasing his tempo.

"Lincoln, I'm serious! Stop! This is hurting!" Michael cried, trying to pull himself away from his brother.

Lincoln drove Michael back down against the mattress. "This is what you wanted, Michael!" he cried, driving even harder into his brother's body. "You wanted this! You were the one pushing for it!"

Michael let out a strangled sound, this time it was definitely in pain. Lincoln almost smiled, and continued to drive into Michael. He could feel himself getting close to climax. Michael began to struggle against him, straining to get out from under Lincoln's grip. Lincoln put his full weight onto his brother, Michael's struggle and cries pushing him over the edge and with one final thrust he released his hot seed into his brother's body.

Lincoln lay on top of Michael, trying to catch his breath. Michael's body hitched, as he began to sob. Lincoln climbed off his brother, not sure who he was more disgusted with. He began to get dressed. Michael rolled into the fetal position on the bed, facing his brother.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Michael sobbed. "Why didn't you stop?"

"Because you wanted it!" Lincoln screamed! "I never wanted to go this far, Michael! We're brothers, you sick fuck! Why did you keep pushing me?"

"You didn't have to do it!" Michael screamed back. "You could have said no!"

"No, Michael! You would have kept pushing and pushing until you got what you want! Well, now you've got it! You got what you want! Are you happy? Did you enjoy it? Was it everything you imagined?"

"Stop!" Michael screamed, close to hysterics.

Lincoln finished dressing, and turned to leave the room.

"Where the fuck are you going?" Michael cried.

"I can't do this anymore," Lincoln said quietly, without turning around. "I just can't." He left the room without turning back. Michael heard the door slam behind him as he left.

It was raining when Lincoln left the building. Raining hard. He contemplated calling a cab, but then decided to walk. The rain was cold and felt good. What the fuck had he been thinking? Why did he do that? His resolution had been not to hurt the ones he loved! And look what he had just done! He had hurt Michael more than he ever thought he could. Fuck. He had raped him. He had just raped his brother! What kind of sick fuck was he anyway! He should never have even given in to Michael's advances. He should have told him that it could never happen and left right at that moment. He had just single-handedly destroyed their relationship, and he didn't know if he would ever be able to mend it.

***

Michael dressed slowly, the pain in his body almost unbearable. He was sure if he checked he would find blood. After carefully getting dressed, he made his way slowly out to the balcony. It was pouring down rain and the cold drops felt soothing on his body. He thought he could make out his brother's silhouette quite a way down the street. What the hell had Lincoln been thinking? It was almost as if he had been punishing Michael.

It was then that Michael began to think it had all been his fault. He had been the one pushing Lincoln to do this. However, he had thought it had been what Lincoln wanted too. Michael also realized how much pain being open and honest had caused him. He probably was not going to hear from his brother for a long time.

He watched Lincoln disappear around the corner, the cold rain mixing with the tears on his cheeks.
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Open Wounds