I Learned The Truth At Seventeen By Mikoki
Haaaaaaaai my lovely Darlings, y'all feeling pretty today?
I'm here with a new story, and please keep your panties on, missies. It 's only 4 chapters long, already completed in my head, and should be up and completed within the next two/three weeks on the site.
It's loosely based on this song (/watch?vf3qyn2AP-0), which you have to admit, even if you don't like it, is a classic. And the lyrics work for both Michael and Sara, even more for the boy in this chapter.
It's totally AU and will span two decades, with each chapter being another age in those twenty years. It's not high-standard and not special, written in only a couple of hours without special attention for eloquence etc, Just a simple story, so expect nothing more, nothing less.
It's misa... (facepalms) of course it's Misa...DUH!! And strong R-ish / mild NC-17-ish (grins) with a little angst thrown in between. Ah, ah!! Our favorite mix!
It's unbeta-ed. SORRY!! Why? Because the dance-school is almost finished for the summer, giving me more free time in which I plan to have a major updating-fest on WFA. I need that story to be finished as soon as possible, because I've already made you wait so freaking long. So yes, I will hassle Pam and Rebekah so much they'll want to block my every access to them, so I didn't want to bother them with this flimsy piece. So all mistakes and typos are solely mine. DEAL WITH IT.
Baabaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiii
Xxxxxxx
Lord Mikeystar
ps: before every link I post you have to add the site YOUTUBE because this site wont let me post the whole link
Chapter One: at seventeen
At seventeen Michael seemed lost.
That was the only word that felt appropriate to use when Lincoln looked at his younger brother, who was sitting on the couch next to him, with shoulders drooped in defeat and glazy eyes fixed on his hands in his lap. Lincoln's own prom-tuxedo looked alien on the skinnier teen, with the dinner jacket too large for Michael's more delicate frame, and the trousers too short for his long legs.
His brother's fingers had long disregarded the single red rose they'd held nervously an hour ago, and now they were resting in his lap and were twirling around each other softly, with Michael's eyes fixed on their every shift, like somehow, their soft movement was the only thing that kept him from breaking down.
Suddenly his baby brother's Adam's apple bopped up and down painfully loud, while his dejected featured turned a shade more miserable, if possible, and Lincoln had to hold back his groan when he saw those turquoise eyes become so watery, they were bound to spill those tears in the very near future.
Seeing his brother so devastated tugged at his heart, but seeing his brother cry, would kill him. So without further hesitation he tried to stop those tears from spilling.
"Want me to beat them up?" He suggested softly.
"'Cause you know, brass knuckles aren't that hard to make... Just give me some tape, some spoons, a lighter and five minutes to work my magic, and I'll be ready to kick some ass."
The last part was accentuated with his left fist hitting his right palm, but the expected smile on his companion's lips didn't come.
The only sign Michael had even heard him speak, was the sudden acceleration in blinking his eyelids to hold the tears at bay, while his nose sniffled loudly.
"Sssokay," Michael mumbled moments later, and the deflated tone of his voice brought on a new wave of compassion in Lincoln. "It's my fault...really, I should have known this would happen...I was stupid to think someone like her would want to go out with... me...For real."
The self-loathing in Michael's voice increased with every word that passed his lips, and by the end of it, Lincoln's ears were buzzing from all the misery he'd heard coming from his brother's mouth.
The earlier rage he'd felt, had subdued when he'd tried to console the young man next to him, but now the fire in his veins ignited again with a vigor, setting his whole body ablaze with anger. Anger for his brother's too sensitive nature and low self-esteem, anger for the fact that Michael's only guide into life had been a too young punk of a brother who made more mistakes than anything else, and anger for snobby rich kids with blond hair and fancy cars who decided the world was theirs to rule.
The heat in his body made him jump upright from the sofa and soon he was pacing a hole in the floor in front of Michael.
"Fuck! That's it, Buddy!"
His nostrils flared with anger noisily and it succeeded in drawing Michael's attention.
"You're going to that freaking prom, and you're gonna show that whore that she didn't break you..."
"Linc..." The uncertainty in Michael's whimpering voice made his heart squeeze with pain, but he'd made up his mind. His brother would stand up for himself and show that bitch what she was made off, even if it would take all night to convince him to go.
--
Eventually it only took eighteen minutes to lift up his brother's spirit and convince him to go to the prom alone to show them all their horrible prank hadn't worked. Another minute was needed to straighten the undone bow-tie, and to envelope the still shaken boy in his strong arms and give him the most smothering hug Lincoln could muster, and yet another thirty seconds had to be added to ruffle his younger brother's hair lovingly, say he was proud of him and kick him out of the door.
But suddenly nineteen and a half minutes seemed so long in comparison to the mere seconds it took to sprint to his bedroom after the front-door had closed, and start hitting the living daylight out of the boxing-bag that hung from the ceiling.
He kicked and grunted, while thoughts and facts about their lives made his soul scream in agony.
Their parents' unexpected deaths and Michael's struggles to cope with it. His own struggles with the orphanage and ultimately his fight to earn and keep custody over his brother. Their money-issues. Michael's LLI. His promise to his mother he would always protect his family. And his brother's low self esteem and too gentle nature that made him a sitting duck for jocks who thrived on picking on shy and dorky young men like Michael.
It didn't take long for a sweat to break out on Lincoln's forehead. He started breathing erratically, while his arm-muscles acidified due to the sudden and frantic work-out, but he couldn't stop, as more memories were being projected on the punching-bag in front of him.
The ridiculously silly grin on his brother's face when he'd come home three weeks ago, and ultimately the very girlish giggle that had left his mouth when he'd finally told Lincoln one of the most popular girl's had asked him to be her prom date. He'd joked all day with his brother, telling him he never wanted to hear such a high-pitched giggle from him again, and that they needed to hurry because he only had three more weeks to toughen his brother up, but what had then been a sweet catalyst of laughter and happiness, now left an aftertaste that was so bitter it nearly choked Lincoln.
His arms trembled and fists hurt, but he kept striking away blindly.
Michael's growing self-doubts and nervousness these last few days. His outrageously long search for the perfect rose in half a dozen flower-shops. The three hours it took him to get ready and Lincoln's amicable pestering that he needed to stop with all the perfectness because he would make other men look bad, and then the final blow, the phone-call that had changed it all.
Lincoln's fists squeezed tighter and his nails dug into the flesh of his palms. It stung, but the pain was nothing in comparison to the memory of Michael's trembling fingers grabbing the phone and pushing the digits of that Logan-cunt to ask why she was late, and then the sound of that snake's cruel laughter that was so loud even Lincoln had heard.
Suddenly Lincoln's chest heaved painfully, like someone had punched him in the gut, but there was no physical attacker in front of him, only the image of those wide innocent turquoise eyes that turned impossibly dark and haunted the moment Michael realized it had all been a prank.
The phone had fallen from Michael's hand and had clattered to the ground noisily and ungracefully, just like Lincoln now stumbled backwards clumsily away from the assaulted punching-bag to drop down in his sofa with a loud thud.
His chest heaved and his biceps and knuckles burned, and while he frantically tried to calm himself, he hoped his little brother would be strong enough to get through this night unscattered.
It didn't matter.
None of it.
Sure, it stung a little, but ultimately it didn't really matter if he had a date. In fact, going stag had its benefits. Now he didn't have to be nervous, and he didn't have to spend all his money on his date, or listen to her high-pitched ramblings about things he would, no doubt, have been clueless about.
Yes, it definitely didn't matter.
This mantra had repeated over and over again in Michael's head on the short drive to the school's gymnasium, and by the time he arrived at the parking lot, he actually felt he could walk into that room and face them.
He turned off the ignition and closed his eyes for a second while a deep sigh squeezed past his lips.
The habitual character of this ritual mocked him in the face.
It hadn't mattered too, when he'd been the last to be picked during PA. They were right, after all, he wasn't good at sports, his body still waiting for the muscles Lincoln promised would come someday.
And the sighs he heard when they were teamed up with him for a school-assignment, and the weird looks he got whenever their forced collaboration put focus on his underdeveloped social skills. They didn't really matter too. Someday he would be as brave and confident as Lincoln. Someday his clumsiness and shyness would just disappear into thin air.
None of it mattered.
But when he finally entered the gymnasium, and his eyes fell on the spectacle before him, he knew that this time he wouldn't be able to fool himself.
At seventeen Michael finally learned the truth that it all mattered.
The dance-floor was filled with couples dancing, and when his eyes travelled from pair to pair, noticing the beautiful dresses wrapped around the delicate female frames, and seeing their partner's arms slung possessively around them, a sudden feeling of despair squeezed his chest tight.
He didn't want to be so shy and clumsy anymore , he wanted his hand sprawled on the lower back of a girl too. Of course it mattered that nobody wanted him.
What was he doing here?
Soon somebody would notice him, and then the whispers would start, and the mocking voices and the laughter, and suddenly it all mattered. He didn't want to hear those whispers behind his back anymore.
All of a sudden he felt nauseous and the back of his eyes began to sting again with the threat of tears.
Panic started spreading in his belly as he realized he would not only be not strong enough to stand up to them like Lincoln wanted but he would give them the extra pleasure of seeing him cry.
He started shuffling backwards to the door, but the whispers had already started. He dropped his gaze to the floor but not before he'd noticed the sneers on their faces and the pointed fingers.
His eyes prickled but the safety of the hall was only a couple of feet away, but just before he could reach it, two of the "head"-jocks saw him and jogged towards him, drawing a lot of attention.
He cursed under his breath, and turned towards the door swiftly, but instead of fleeing through it, he found himself in a tight head-lock while the two jocks dragged him towards their group.
"Yow, Snow White, you weren't going to leave, now were you?" The one who had his arm around Michael's head spoke.
"You just got here, man!" He continued with fake enthusiasm while he rubbed his knuckles over his skull painfully.
Michael just grabbed the guys forearm and tried to pull it back a little from his throat to ease the pressure.
He focused on not tripping over his own feet, while they dragged him past many of his peers, until he was finally released from the head-lock and pushed into the middle of the most popular crowd.
"YO! Logan, your date is here."
The cruel giggles and catcalls that surrounded him made him dizzy but he had a feeling the worst was yet to come.
-- --
Big brown eyes concentrated on the tip of the black lipstick while it concealed the red of her lips.
Seconds later Sara leaned away from the restroom's mirror while she popped her lips noisily on a small tissue to get rid of the excessive lipstick.
"Damn girl, you are working that tat!"
Sara paused from redoing her black mascara to look at her friend Katie and gave her a toothy grin.
"I KNOW! My mom and I had so much fun putting it on, and god, Katie, you should have seen Frank's face when he saw that skull on my arm and thought it was real." Sara chuckled.
Both girls giggled before they turned back to the mirror to adjust their make-up.
"You still calling him Frank, huh?" Katie asked.
"Mmm, mmhhh." Sara hummed.
"He accepts that I'm going through a certain phase right now." She continued while sweeping her hands over her anti-prom Punk-attire to accentuate her point.
"God!" Her friend sighed dramatically while putting away her own more traditional lipstick "It should be illegal to have such cool parents!"
Sara just grinned.
"Woman, I still can't believe you put on that outfit." Katie said while shaking her head in amazement.
"I mean, don't get me wrong, you're more than sizzling hot in it." She added quickly while mock-fanning herself.
"But the Queen-Gremlin and her minions weren't so pleased to see you went against prom-protocol so much."
Sara turned her head again to give herself a once-over in the mirror and could only smile remembering the sour look on Logan's face when her eyes had fallen on the halter top with the skull in the middle, the extremely short chequered skirt, the black "fuck me" boots and the thick black leather belt.
The outfit screamed 'rebel' and somehow Sara made it sexy without looking like a tramp.
Her grin widened, remembering the jealous looks the blonde cheerleader and her Wannabes had thrown her way throughout the evening, and not for the first time she thanked whatever spirit that was responsible for her situation.
Her parents both worked for Doctors Without Borders.
For as long as she could remember she switched between going to school here whenever her parents weren't on a mission and getting private education by tutors whenever they were abroad.
It resulted in her being away too much to build up many deep friendships. She'd also skipped a year, the combination of her intelligence and the homeschooling, giving her an advantage over her peers, but that hadn't really bothered her.
She loved being away with her parents, and soaking up the different cultures around the world. And when she got home she could always turn to her best friend Katie who stuck with her through better and worse. That was all she ever really needed.
Her parents were hippies by heart, raising her to be a unique, compassionate and confident young lady and so it came to be that she didn't much care for the social pecking order in high-school. After seeing children die in her arms because their village had no clean drinking water, being popular with the in-crowd simply wasn't that high on Sara's wish-list anymore.
Strangely enough, it was that care-free attitude about her status on school, that earned her the respect within several "cliques". The dorks loved her because she was smart and kind, the jocks loved her because she was beautiful and funny, and of course, as a result of the latter all the cheerleaders hated her.
Jealous bitches!
The arrival of three of those fake bimbos brought her out of her reverie. They stopped their gossiping the minute they saw her and when Sara felt the three pairs of eyes burn into her back, she turned around slowly.
The three of them squinted their eyes menacingly at the same time and Sara smirked at the ludicrousness of it.
She put her hands on her hips and lifted her eyebrows.
"Isn't it enough that all your boyfriends stare at my breasts already, that you have to do it too?" She challenged with sparkling eyes, which only shined brighter when she witnessed the girls' mouths fall slack in shock before they stormed out of the restroom, no doubt, sprinting straight to Logan to tell her about this.
"Girlyyyyyyyyyyyy!" Katie squealed next to her.
"God gave you the wrong skin-color, 'cause Baby, you got the claws of a black woman."
Sara let herself be enveloped in Katie's arms for a victory-hug before they started heading back to the gymnasium.
They were still grinning like fools when they entered the main dance-hall where the commotion in the middle of the room caught their attention immediately.
At first it looked like some kind of dance-contest where groups of people challenged each other, so Sara quickened her pace towards the crowd and pushed her way through, but when her eyes fell on the main protagonists in front of her, her smile faded.
It was that shy boy from her math and history class, the one that always sat in the back and never said a word to her. He seemed like a sweet guy, and had the promise to become a very handsome man, but she had a feeling he didn't quite see himself that way.
Oh, she knew him, Michael Scofield. He was the smartest kid around, and he had the most striking eyes she'd ever seen. Not that she'd seen a lot of them, because somehow he always seemed to look down, but about a year ago they'd crashed into each other in the hall-way and while he'd clumsily gathered her fallen books and stuttered his apologies, their eyes had clashed briefly and it had taken her breath away.
Those eyes were yet again trained to the ground and while she shuffled a little closer and started to hear bits and pieces of what Logan was saying her heart froze in her chest.
Nice tux, Michael, did you dress up just for me?
Sara had heard the rumors, that Logan would invite one of the 'dorks' to be her prom date and make him believe it until the very evening, but never in her worst nightmares had she believed they would go through with it.
Nobody could be that cruel, right?
But as she saw Michael tug at the sleeve of his jacket timidly, she realized how naïve she'd been.
Her heart broke for him as she saw his eyes fill with tears. This had to be torture for him, to first believe one of the most popular girls had asked him out and to then get humiliated in front of the whole school.
Sara's heart started to beat in her ears, faster and faster every passing second as disbelief was quickly being replaced by anger.
The poor guy seemed ready to crumble, with his shoulders hanging low in defeat and a soft tremble making his legs shaky, and with venom tingling her whole system she realize why they'd picked him.
He was too gentle for this, and she'd never seen him stand up for himself, so she had a sick feeling in her stomach he wouldn't start now.
On top of that, everybody knew he had this strange condition that gave him these weird panic attacks whenever that things got too much. She remembered several occasion where he'd just raised his arm in class and the teacher had given him the permission to leave without further explanations. She'd learned that he left to be alone and meditate or something to calm down.
But there were no teachers close by here to give him a relieve from the growing panic she saw reflected in his eyes, and according to the twisted sneer on Logan's face she knew that too.
"I bet dear old Daddy forgot to give you money for a new suit before his drunken ass drove that car into that tree. Good thing he killed your mom with it too, so they can't see what a pathetic human being their son turned out to be."
A collective gasp reverberated in the crowd, and with incredulity Sara witnessed all the shocked faces of people who thought this joke had gone too far but at the same time did nothing about it.
Michael's face twisted in agony, and when his lower lip started to tremble she felt the strongest urge to hug and protect him.
Without really noticing, her feet started to move towards Logan, while she grabbed a full cup of punch of a nearby table.
Logan was about to say something else but stopped when she saw Sara come to stand between her and Michael.
She seemed shocked at first but Sara didn't give her the opportunity to recover as she raised her right hand and slapped the girl in the face hard.
The slap echoed in the suddenly deafeningly quiet room, even the band had stopped playing, and without looking around her, Sara knew everybody was holding their breath.
"That, was for being so cruel to him..." Sara spat in the slightly dazed face of her nemesis.
"And this...," She threw the punch all over Logan's front "...is for being the most retarded and vile snake on the face of the planet."
Hands flew to mouths in shock, and many eyes grew wide with disbelief, but her only focus was on the fuming "thing" in front of her, and when "it" finally spoke, "it" sounded like air-borne venom.
"You're gonna regret this, Tancredi."
But Sara wasn't fazed, not one small bit.
"Oh, BITE ME, Cunt!"
And with it she turned around to face the shaken young man behind her, grabbed his hand forcefully and pulled him along towards the door.
Fuelled by adrenaline her heart drummed speedily in her chest, but as she heard the silence being broken by loud applause, she couldn't help the relieved sigh from leaving her lungs. It seemed that not all was lost to the world after all.
--
She ran and pulled without looking over her shoulder, gripping the hand of her unexpected companion harder in fear of losing him, until she'd reached the far entrance to the football-field where the drum of the restarted music was nothing more than a soft thud in the night's air, and she was sure no prying eyes were hidden.
She stopped running and turned back towards Michael, just in time to see him stumble backwards and lean heavily against the wall of the athletes' locker room, with his chest heaving strongly.
She was breathing heavily too from the sudden work-out but soon she realized it wasn't the run but a panic reaction that made him hyperventilate so strongly. Concern filled her stomach as she saw him struggle to breathe while the fright in his wildly blinking and shifting eyes grew instead of receded.
Her caring personality fired up the strong urge to help him, and without hesitating she closed the distance between them and put her hands on his shoulders.
"Hey, woah there,...take it easy." She whispered softly, applying slight pressure to his shoulders so he wouldn't double over.
His eyes still shifted restlessly, looking everywhere but at her, and she leaned in even closer, sandwiching him between the wall and her body, so he wouldn't be able to flee before he was calm again.
One of her hands fell from his shoulder to rest on his wildly beating heart, while the other rose to touch his face softly.
He closed his eyes and shuddered, trying to control his breathing while she explored his face tenderly, wiping the sweat from his brows, cupping his cheek and gently forcing his turned head to face her fully.
"Hey, please look at me... calm down,... they're gone..."
The moment his eyes opened slowly, her breath got stuck in her throat, just like it had that day so long ago. It was dark, and the brightness from the football-field lights didn't reach them very good, but she still saw the kaleidoscope of green and blue and even a little yellow in those magnificent eyes in front of her.
His eyes glazed over with unshed tears. Tears that probably had been prickling his eyelids from the moment he'd found out it was all a prank, and it made the pain in his eyes shine through even more.
She didn't know him very well, but he looked so young all of a sudden, with an air of sadness surrounding him, like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders, and out of the blue she had the strangest urge to smother him in her embrace and help him carry that impossible load.
Without hesitation she did just that.
One hand snuck under his armpit to his back while the other found the back of his head and pushed his body into her chest.
She squeezed tight, even when he froze the first few seconds, and started caressing the back of his neck, gently forcing him to lay his head on her shoulder.
"It's gonna be okay...it's over now, I promise." She mumbled against his shoulder and when slowly but steadily his arms crept around her waist, and he started to squeeze back, she was slightly shocked that somehow, she found herself comforted by his embrace too.
Three minutes later they were still locked together, with her mouth whispering sweet nothings against his shoulder and her hands rubbing soothingly along his back and neck. His breathing had returned to normal and it felt safe to assume he'd calmed down enough.
She lifted her head from his shoulder and leaned back a bit until she could look at his face.
His eyes were shifted downwards again, but he wasn't trembling anymore, which had to be a good sign.
His cheeks were wet, his eyelids having lost the battle against a few silent tears and she cupped his face on both sides and swiped the wetness away with her thumbs.
He still looked way too miserable for her likings and she concluded that this young man was in dire need of some fun. That thought made her grin softly, because she saw a challenge in it, a challenge to make him laugh. And if nothing else, she loved challenges!
With adrenaline spiking her tranquil mood, she grabbed his hand again and started to drag him back to the parking lot they'd passed.
"Come on, Michael Scofield, I think it's time to forget about what happened earlier on and start focusing on the rest of the evening, 'cause I swear I'm gonna give you the best prom night you could have wished for, Mister." She said with a twinkle in her eye.
He let himself be dragged along without resistance, the only sign of uncertainty coming out of his mouth when he spoke hesitantly.
"How..." He stopped talking to clear his throat.
"How..., humh, ... do you know my name?" He finished hoarsely.
"Oh, I know your name, alright. How could I forget the name of the one and only person who ever beat me at the spelling contest? You probably don't remember anymore, but you whipped my ass good at that competition about five years back. I've been hoping for a rematch ever since." She grinned over her shoulder.
"I'm sorry." He apologized while his eyes still didn't quite meet hers.
"What?" Sara voiced with incredulity "Why are you apologizing? I have no problem losing from you. You're just so smart, and I've known all along you're destined to do great things. So in ten years, when you are this big shot scientist or doctor or sometin' like that, I'm so gonna brag that I know ya."
She ended her statement with a toothy smile. Their gaze met for a brief second, before his eyes lowered to the ground again and he ducked his head to hide the sudden fiery blush in his cheeks.
The cuteness of his actions made her laugh out loud warmly and she squeezed his hand shortly.
Oh, she was going to have so much fun with this challenge.
--
And fun it had been. In fact, she'd laughed so hard these last few hours her stomach muscles felt stiff from all the twitching they'd done.
Her first fit of giggles had resulted from watching Michael transform from quiet and shy to this nervous jittery wrack when she'd decided to give his brother's car a "test-drive". Apparently she wasn't such a good driver as she thought she was and apparently Lincoln's wrath, if something would come to happen to his baby, was something to be feared.
She'd had so much fun, watching him squirm nervously in the passenger seat, but after a while she'd taken pity on the poor guy and she'd stopped at the first ice-cream parlor they'd come across. She'd figured they would need the extra sugar in their system to last through the night.
There the fun had continued, especially when she witnessed him doing a double take when she'd bought him the biggest Sunday known to man. She'd loved seeing the shyness in Michael disappear whenever his instincts got the upper hand. He'd protested vehemently that he should be the one to buy her something, not the other way around. That was the moment Michael Scofield and Sara Tancredi's stubbornness had officially met, and of course that was also the moment that Michael had officially lost his first battle against her. The cute little pout that had formed on his lips when she'd slid a couple of bills towards their attendant had been enough to lighten up her face with a smile for the rest of their stay.
It had been fascinating to see the awkwardness in Michael's form slowly melt away with every spoon of ice-cream that disappeared into his mouth, and by the time they had to leave he'd actually seemed at ease in her presence. She'd even witnessed a couple of smirks lift up the corners of his lips. They were devilishly divine, and it had spurred her on to see him smile fully.
As it turned out, not much more had been needed to reach her goal of seeing him smile. It had been unexpected, yes, but the combination of finding a couple of paint spray-cans in the trunk, and spotting Logan's car when driving by their school, had been a perfect match to see her companion smile.
They'd worked on adrenaline only, both realizing how very "juvenile delinquent-y" their actions were, but both not really giving a damn because the bitch deserved it. A couple of thrilling minutes later they'd sprinted away from the now "pimped up" black BMW. They'd ran like crazy, hand in hand, this time with Michael dragging her along, until they'd reached the same athletes' shed from earlier that night, and both had collapsed against the wall in a heap of giggles.
It had taken them long minutes to calm down, because every time they'd glanced into each other's eyes or spotted the remains of the paint on their fingers images of bright pink flowers on shiny black metal had flashed before their eyes, making them double over again with laughter.
Seeing the spark in his eyes, and hearing his boyish laughter had warmed her heart more than she'd expected, so when later that evening he'd guided her to the local rest-home to introduce her to a couple of elderly people he often volunteered to shop for, she wasn't surprised anymore at how it overwhelmed her.
They'd ended up playing cards with a bunch of feisty grandpas and grannies, who'd turned out to be surprisingly foulmouthed while losing at poker, but who'd all been full of praise over Michael. He'd laughed abundantly in front of her, totally at ease around his 'friends', just like he'd blushed fiercely whenever one of their elderly poker-buddies started telling 'embarrassing' stories about him, or even worse, whenever they'd called her his girlfriend.
She'd found it all incredibly endearing, and with each passing minute she became more intrigued by this boy. He'd turned out to be the sweetest guy around and she hadn't been able to fathom why he had so little self-esteem. It had pained her to realize that she too hadn't really given him any attention these past few years, and that if she'd just taken some time to break through his shyness and clumsiness around girls, she could have found a wonderful person, and possible great friend, much earlier.
--
"I'm sorry."
They were slouched over in the backseat of Lincoln's car, side by side, their shoulders touching, with their gaze directed at the dark sky above them. They'd undone the hood of the car to watch the stars and not surprisingly she'd been gobsmacked by Michael's knowledge about outer-space and its stellar systems.
She'd been mesmerized by him, his soft voice the only sound around them for long minutes when he talked about the milky way and planets with calm admiration. At one point she'd realized his low voice was something to be treasured, so smooth and rich it could captivate anyone's ears, so low and soft it could lull the loudest baby to sleep, but as soon as the subject had changed from stars to more personal stuff, its timbre had changed slightly, as if sadness made his vocal cords tremble a little more.
In a timid monologue, she hadn't dared to interrupt, he'd talked a little about his parents' deaths, the struggle his brother and him had to endure to stay together, their money problems. And somehow she felt the urge to apologize to him for her own more beneficial situation.
"I'm sorry." She repeated softly as he hadn't seemed to have registered her the first time around, seemingly too lost in his own memories.
This time he did acknowledge her and when their heads turned sideways to gaze at each other she was struck for the umpteenth time that night by the wonders that were his eyes. The reflection of the full moon made them sparkle like the million stars above them, and the darkness of the night made his pupils impossibly large, like dark bottomless pools in which she could easily drown.
"Why?" He countered softly, a sudden vulnerability plastered all over his face, like he just realized he'd bared his most dark secrets to a stranger.
Her gaze fell down to his hand that was resting in his lap and she started plucking at a loose string of white thread around the shirt's cuff of his left arm.
She took a deep breath, remembering all she'd told him about her wealthy grandparents and that her comfortable financial situation was pretty much scripted in stone.
"It just seems...wrong, you know?" She elaborated timidly "That some people, like me, have nothing to worry about, and can live their life to the fullest, when others have all the bad luck in the world and have to struggle so hard to keep afloat. It's just not fair." She finished guiltily.
He seemed to pick up the remorseful tone in her whispered words, because he stilled her nervous plucking of his shirt by lacing his fingers through hers.
"Hey, don't be like that." He said while his thumb started drawing out little patterns on the base of hers.
"It's not your fault, and hey, Linc and I manage. Yes, it's hard sometimes, but only sometimes. Most of the times we aren't any different from you or Logan, or anyone else." He voiced confidently.
His words hit her chest like a freight train and she almost groaned under the weight of it.
To begin with, he was lying. She remembered the determination in his voice when he'd told her about how his brother spent all of his saved "collage money" to pay for the mortgage and their every day costs, and how Michael was studying so hard, determined to earn himself a scholarship, go to a good university and get a respectable job so he could repay his brother someday, and take care of him in return.
How could those words out of a seventeen-year-old ever be considered normal?
And secondly, he was lying to make her feel better. And he did it with so much confidence it shook her. Every passing minute she felt more amazed by him, while all he did was doubt himself. The only time he felt confident was when he was taking the blame for something and sacrificed himself for the well-being of another person.
The pressure on her chest, however, evaporated immediately when she felt their joined hands being lifted and he placed the softest of all kisses on the back of her hand.
The guilt disappeared at once, to be replaced by shock, and by the look on his face Michael was as stunned by his uncharacteristic boldness as she. He dropped her hand instantly while a fiery blush crept high up his cheeks, and suddenly she was giggling.
This guy was too cute to be real and the ongoing mortified look on his face, told her he wasn't in the least aware of his cuteness. It made her laugh even harder while she laid her head on his shoulder and squeezed his bicep lovingly to make sure he knew he hadn't done anything wrong.
Seconds turned into minutes, and gradually she felt the tenseness in his form lessen. She lifted her head and gazed at his profile lovingly.
Out of the blue she lifted her hand and let her fingers glide through his inch-long thick hair in a gentle caress.
"I like your hair."
His only response was a soft grunt while he dipped his head and another blush attacked his face.
She shook her head softly. "Why do you keep doing that?... Looking down whenever someone gives you a compliment?"
It took him a while to answer but she didn't push him.
"I just.." He faltered.
"I don't get a lot of compliments..." He glanced at her from the corner of his eyes shortly before his gaze fell back on his lap.
"And.. huh, well, I know they're not true, and it's just said to make me feel better...and, I mean...yes, well..." He faltered again.
"Obviously... I don't do well with compliments." He finished timidly.
The smile had left her face the second he'd voiced his beliefs that the compliments weren't true and suddenly she felt the biggest urge to shake him hard and force some sense into him. She'd never met anyone with such a low self image and not for the first time this evening she was stunned by the fact that he couldn't see how great of a person he really was.
She thought of Logan and her pack of hyenas and how they had, no doubt, "helped" in making him believe he was as undesirable as he felt, and with fire spreading through her veins she made a decision that would change everything.
Without second-guessing herself she pushed herself off on her seat until her shins were resting on both sides of his thighs and she was straddling him. His head shot up with shock and stunned words startled spilling from his lips.
"Sara?... What are you doi..."
Her finger on his lips silenced him and she heard his breath hitch in his throat.
"Shhhht, Michael. I promised you a prom night you'd never forget..." She'd never intended to say it so huskily
"And this is me, delivering on that promise. Just stop thinking for a while and ... simply feel."
By the end of her statement their faces were only a breath away and she heard, rather than saw, his Adam's apple bob up and down nervously.
His eyes grew impossibly wide when her hands fell on his and she guided them to her hips, and when her arms crept around his neck in a loose embrace she saw something shift in his darkened orbs. He looked scared all of a sudden and with startling clarity she realized he must be even more inexperienced than she'd initially thought. There was a good change this was his first kiss ever and the realization of it made the tingle in her stomach stir even fiercer. She couldn't mess up his first kiss. First kisses were special. First kisses lasted forever.
"Close your eyes." She breathed against his face.
He did.
And then it happened.
The softness of his lips surprised her, just like the tingle that shot up to the very end of her spine like lightning.
This was all for him, right? To give him more self-esteem, to show him how wonderful he was, and that others could desire him, a friend helping out a friend, nothing more, right?
Then why did it seem like the pit of her stomach was on fire? Why did her heart start to beat in her ears furiously when, after the initial shocked stillness, he started to move his lips too?
Her eyes squeezed tight in confusion, but at the same time she felt her fingers dig deeper into the hairs at the base of his skull, both wanting to massage his doubts away as well as pushing him deeper into her.
Their mouths opened slightly and when the wet tip of his tongue slipped between her lips a low sound rumbled in the base of her throat.
She tried to refocus. This was all for him, right? But as she felt his fingers curl up, gripping the fabric of her skirt between them frantically, digging his knuckles into the flesh of her hips in an act of uncontrolled longing, she couldn't help but moan against his lips.
The soft sound seemed to give him a bit more confidence, because he straightened his spine away from the car's seat and nearer to her chest, while his hands tugged her hips a little closer.
The gentle hesitancy of their lips' movements started to disappear with each counting second and soon they were sucking and nipping each other in with such abundance it shook her to the core.
She pushed her shins into the car-seat hard, squeezing her thighs around his, suddenly wanting nothing more than to be closer to him. Her burning core moved higher on his lap and when she suddenly felt his hardness underneath her, she moaned into his mouth again. This time without restraint, this time the rumble was so forceful it reverberated through whole her body, to the very tips of her toes.
She bucked her hips against him for a second time, her tingling bundle of nerves aching for more pressure, and this time Michael was the one to grunt against her lips.
His nails dug into her hips pleasantly hard, but out of the blue all pressure disappeared. Suddenly her hips felt cold without his warm hands gripping her and he'd withdrawn his mouth so fast, for a second the heath of his lips could still be felt and she could still pretend they were kissing.
Her dazed eyes opened slowly, and she frowned when her gaze fell on his turned head. Only now she realized his body had tensed beneath her and he kept avoiding her eyes, even when she dipped her head to seek out his gaze.
"Michael?" She questioned huskily, uneasiness gripping her heart. Had she done something wrong?
The silence crept on, becoming heavier each passing second while the frown on her forehead increased.
"I'm ... sorry..." He choked out eventually "I didn't ... mean for it to happen."
"I'm so sorry" He finished miserably, still avoiding eye-contact.
Her forehead creased even more. She'd obviously missed something, and she shifted a little closer, dipping her head even deeper, trying to catch his lowered gaze.
Her core rubbed against his throbbing erection in the process and she saw him bit his lower lip forcefully.
Suddenly the veil of confusion was lifted from before her eyes, and she started noticing the barely contained tremble in his form, as well as the fiery blush on his cheeks.
She didn't stop the smile from spreading on her face as she realized he seemed to be apologizing for his bodily reaction to their close contact.
This guy was too damn cute for his own good. If only he would realize how wet she was by now.
Figuring, grabbing his fingers and guiding them to her hidden core so he could experience it for himself, would be a little too much for his timid and inexperienced mind, so she opted to grind her center against him once again while tucking her fingers under his chin to make him look at her.
She cupped both of his cheeks and waited until his shy gaze met hers.
"My sweet, sweet Michael." She whispered softly, before gently placing a closed-mouth kiss to his trembling lips.
She leaned away from him, regarding him with awe and never breaking eye-contact, except for the few seconds needed to lift her t-shirt over her head.
His orbs grew double their normal size in the blink of an eye, and she just chuckled.
With amusement she saw his mouth fall slack in shock when she didn't stop there and reached behind her to unclasp her black lacey bra.
The night's air was relatively warm, but her nipples still hardened visibly when they were suddenly exposed to it.
His eyes however, were still locked with hers, intensely so, like he was afraid to gaze a little lower.
Again, his cuteness overwhelmed her, and with a deep sigh she grabbed his hands and guided them to her uncovered breasts.
The moment his trembling fingers fell on her heated skin they moaned in union. All signs of amusement were gone now, and through heavy-lidded eyes she tried to focus on his face. Seeing the different emotions travel over his features while he gently started to grope her flesh was a real treat but soon his teasingly gentle exploration became almost too much to bear.
The last thing she saw before he flickered both his thumbs over her peaking nipples simultaneously, was the way he nibbled on his lower lip nervously. After that all she saw was sparkling stars as she threw her head back in ecstasy and arched her chest into his touch.
His movements became bolder after seeing her reaction, gripping and fondling her until she felt ready to explode, and before she realized what she was doing she crushed her bare chest against his, slamming him back against the car seat, and started kissing him forcefully. He didn't even hesitate once this time and soon they were a chaotic mess of sloppy kisses, exploring hands and uncontrolled groans.
Sometimes it felt clumsy, like when his hands weaved a little too hard through her hair, pulling out several fine strings in the process, or like when their lips bumped into each other a little too forcefully, leaving an angry teeth-print into the already sensitive flesh, but she didn't care about that, she only cared about the taste of him, the smell of him, the feel of him, hard and insistent against her inner thigh.
Driven by the fire in her veins and the heated look in his eyes she fumbled blindly next to her, until she found her little handbag, and more importantly, the foil wrapper in it.
The minute she'd shuffled higher on his lap, creating a bit of space between them, space she needed to pull his zipper down, he froze, but she was too far gone to stop now, and seconds later she was rolling the rubber latex down over his enlarged member.
He threw his head back against the seat and cursed under his breath while his eyes squeezed shut tight in sweet agony.
She needed him to look at her, she needed him to see how much he was desired at the moment so she tried to calm down a little and caressed his cheek until he opened his eyes slowly.
The fury that had possessed them moments earlier was suddenly gone, and time seemed to stand still. A silent agreement passed between them and ever so slowly he gripped the girth of his penis while she lifted herself on her knees slightly and pushed her panties aside.
By now her slit was glistering with her wetness and when she descended onto him his stiff cock slipped past her entrance to the front of her vulva. They tried again, his hand trembling even more and they missed again.
He let out a frustrated grunt that soon turned remorseful.
"I'm sorry,...I've never...I mean, I don't know how to..." He fumbled on while his face contorted with the most desperate expression she'd ever seen. He sighed in defeat, like he was convinced she would want to quit after hearing his latest secret, but seeing him retreat into his shell again, only made her want him more.
She caught his gaze and winked at him softly.
"Let me help you with that. This part can be a little tricky." She whispered huskily, while grabbing the base of his penis and guiding it too her core.
He groaned softly, and his thighs tensed underneath her, but none of it registered anymore because a split second later she was sliding down on his rigid flesh, her slippery heat enfolding his large cock to the hilt.
Her head flew back in ecstasy, a move mirrored by Michael, but while she could do nothing but let out an agonizing moan, he threw an elongated and excruciating-sounding "Oh, god" into the stillness of the night.
They stilled for only a moment, but the building pressure in her belly forced her to smother him in her embrace almost immediately while she started riding him.
They kissed frantically, leaving wet spots of saliva on each other's cheeks and throat's from their frantic lip-actions, all the while trying to seek out a rhythm that felt comfortable for both.
He gripped her hips forcefully, trusting into her at the same time, and she was forced to open her mouth in a silent scream against his right cheek when his pubic bone rubbed against her sensitive clit.
The rhythm wasn't perfect and when she felt him start to tremble uncontrollably against her, she knew he wouldn't be able to last long and wait for her, but it didn't matter, because just being here for him like this, made it all worth it.
Suddenly he dug his nails into her hips, trying in vain to stop her bucking.
"Sara, you have to stop... Please, I'm not gonna... you need to stop." He whimpered desperately against her flesh, his teeth scraping the skin where her shoulder met her neck.
She only rocked harder, squeezing her pelvic muscles while she hugged him tighter.
"Ssht Michael, ... don't hold back... just enjoy this." She moaned into his ear.
His hands clawed at her back. At first she wasn't even sure if he wanted to haul her back or push her further into his embrace, but it only took a couple more trusts to know for sure.
The groan started deep in his belly, just like the fire that made his hips jerk up irregularly. His left arm slung low around her waist, dragging her even closer while his right hand crept up her back to come to rest between her naked shoulder-blades and push her aching nipples closer into his still covered torso.
He nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck and whimpered her name against her skin, while he started emptying himself inside of her.
Her whole body shook, both from the unreleased buzz still running through her veins as well as from the shock of what had just happened between them. She felt unsatisfied and strange, but it honestly was the best feeling she'd felt in a long while, so without further contemplation about what had just taken place, she squeezed a still trembling Michael tighter into her embrace.
--
Thirty minutes later she was still straddling him, their chests glued together, their heads on each other's shoulder, she looking out in the distance on the right side of the car, he observing the scene on the left, arms wrapped around each other loosely, but still slightly possessive, while his hand mimicked hers in caressing each other's back leisurely.
The atmosphere had turned quiet and tranquil after "the act" had finished, and they hadn't exchanged many words, not even when they'd broken their embrace in the beginning to get rid of the used latex protection and to straighten up their clothes.
She'd seen a few signs then, that even though he'd enjoyed himself he'd felt quite embarrassed for his inexperience and quick release, but she hadn't given the shyness in his heart the time to conquer him again. She hadn't given his self-doubts the chance to think he'd done something wrong, because she'd hugged him close again the minute her bra and shirt were readjusted.
She'd kissed the crook of his neck softly, all the while whispering it was normal for him to have reacted that way, and that he'd made her fly, even though it hadn't lasted more than a minute.
He'd seemed to believe her, because up and until now, they'd relaxed in each other's embrace, stroking each other's back and hair gently, with the only sound between them the occasionally content sigh.
The darkness of the night was slowly giving way to the first shimmering of the sun, illuminating all the car wrecks around them, and with it a certain dread was born into the pit of her stomach.
The sleepiness in her body was chased away by the first beams of light hitting the car dump that surrounded them and with a deep sigh she realized her favorite hideaway in the city, the place where she'd played hide and seek with Katie since forever, the place she'd run too whenever she needed to think or be alone, was now also the place where Michael Scofield had lost his virginity. It had transformed from her place to their place in only a few hours, and she didn't yet know how to feel about that.
"I just hope nobody else has this car dump as a secret hideout to come watch the stars, ... 'cause I bet them binoculars came in handy an hour ago."
She smiled against his shoulder before she lifted herself away from him to meet his slightly sheepish gaze.
"You know, all shyness put aside, you can be a very cheeky young man, Michael." She smirked.
He just shrugged his shoulders a little.
The growing light made it possible to see him better and while the dread started enfolding her whole body, she became awestruck by his beauty. The sleepy eyes, his full lips still slightly swollen from her ravish kisses, the rumbled hair.
The sun was rising fast, indicating she was already going to be home late, and she knew she had to hurry, but try as she may, she couldn't just disconnect from him so sudden.
He frowned when he noticed the growing sadness in her eyes, and when she embraced him tightly once again, he understood they were going to part soon.
"I think I might like you, Michael Scofield." She whispered against his ear, and before he had time to say something back she pushed herself away from him and jumped over the side of the car.
Her legs screamed in protest after having been in the same position for about an hour, but it was the slightly tender feeling between her legs that squeezed her chest hollow and made her wobble on her legs away from the car.
"Wait...what?,... I mean, Sara, wait." She heard his rushed pleas from behind her but she kept distancing herself from Lincoln's car.
"Will I see you on Monday?"
The doubt and vulnerability in his voice made her face contort with pain. How he still could think she would voluntarily ignore him after they'd experienced such a wonderful night together, was beyond her.
She stopped and exhaled slowly while she pushed away the guilt for just one second. With the loveliest look she could muster she turned and faced him.
He'd scooted to the edge of the car-seat, and the hope in his wide eyes nearly broke her heart.
"Michael, the only place I crave to be on Monday is by your side." She whispered, only just loud enough for him to hear.
She was rewarded with the brightest smile she'd ever seen on anybody's face and the sheer beauty of it took her breath away.
She took one last gaze at him and turned back quickly, speeding up her pace while a single tear slipped from her eyes.
She just hoped he would believe her.
-- -- --
It had been 49 hours, 37 minutes and about 20 seconds since he'd seen her form disappear behind a car wreck, and ever since that moment he'd been counting the minutes until their next meeting.
The weekend had been gruesome, but the wait was finally over and only moments after he'd almost parked his bike, with him still on it, underneath a moving car in all his giddiness, he was running down the hallway towards his locker.
The stares were there again, and the whispers too, but today he didn't give a shit. He was a man now, better yet, a man with a plan, and nothing as silly as some pointed fingers could distract him from his plan. Today, they truly didn't matter.
He reached his locker in record time, his nimble fingers already forming the lock-combination before he'd even taken the time to catch his breath, but it would have been in vain anyhow, because as soon as his eyes caught the envelope that fell to the ground when opening the metal door, he stopped breathing all together.
Overexcited fingers grabbed it from the ground, ripped the top of the envelope, and took out the first item.
It was a small white card, with a couple of sentences written in a loopy but neat and very girlish handwriting.
"I figured you needed a new suit to impress those university big shots when you're applying for that scholarship. It's not the most important thing, but it will make a difference. And don't you dare sweat about this. This will not be missed! Not one bit! And I'd rather spend it on you than on the latest Jimmy Choo's. That's right, baby, next to ice cream, shoes are my only other guilty pleasure. Love Sara"
He didn't dare move, but his adrenaline filled fingers didn't need his permission to pull out the next item.
His mouth fell slack as a cheque addressed to him came into view, and when finally the amount peeked from behind the barrier of the envelope, his back fell against the closed locker next to his, his body no longer capable of carrying his weight alone on his wobbly legs.
Five thousand dollars! She'd written him a cheque for five thousand dollars!
Black spots clouded his vision and he had trouble breathing. Like a zombie he put the card and the cheque back into the envelope and that's when he spotted the third item.
Every fiber in his body came to live when he twirled the red origami rose through his fingers.
'Be the chance you want to see in the world' was written on the inside of the petals and the butterflies roared to live inside his belly. She was nothing less than divine, and with a giddy outburst of laughter he slammed his locker shut and sprinted away to search for her.
He needed to feel her in his arms, he needed to taste her on his lips, and tell her all the synonyms for heavenly, because she truly was nothing less.
--
Fifteen minutes later the silly smile had long vanished from his face. Trembling lips had taken its place, accompanied by watery eyes, and an irreparably broken heart.
People were buzzing around him trying to get to their class-room in time, since the first warning bell had already ringed.
"I'm sorry, Michael, but I have to go now."
He didn't notice the sympathy in her voice, nor did he feel her soothing squeeze of his lower arm before she left. He didn't notice anything.
Soon the silence of the hallway enveloped his frozen body, but he didn't care, because the only thing he heard were the devastating words Katie had delivered to him minutes earlier.
She's gone, Michael.
Her parents were called back on a mission to Darfour.
She's gone with them.
A year and a half at least, maybe even longer.
She left on Saturday morning.
She'd lied to him, she'd known all along she wouldn't see him again.
Had it all been lies? Had she just messed with his head? Was this all still part of the prank they'd played on him?
Suddenly it felt like dozens of knifes were sliding into his flesh from every angle, and he barely managed to stumble to the restroom in time where he started to heave up his breakfast.
After he stopped vomiting, he locked the cubicle where he sat on the ground and leaned back against the closed door. His shoulders started to shake uncontrollably and he had to bite his fist to keep his sobs from resonating into the room.
Had he been nothing than a game to her?
Logically his mind knew that she couldn't have played it all. Her laughter had been too happy and unbridled, her moans too throaty, but his fragile heart was too broken to convince right now.
His chest squeezed tight with hurt, as he realized that he had been right all along.
The truth was yet again shoved into his face, that love wasn't meant for him. He had nothing to offer and ultimately he couldn't blame them for not wanting to be his friend.
No, the truth had yet again been made perfectly clear, and leaning against the closed door of a restroom stall, seated on the grimy floor in front of the toilet he'd just puked in, with sobs racking his tired body, seventeen year old Michael felt nothing more than utterly lost.
Okay, babes! This one was long, some scene-setting and back-ground information was needed, but the other three parts are way shorter. So stay tuned for their ten year high-school reunion this weekend. And expect Michael to have gained some major confidence and to have learned some 'nifty' new tricks, if you know what I mean. wiggles eyebrows suggestively. Oh, Sara won't know what hit her.
Michael's and Sara's first kiss was loosely based on this (/watch?vqhzEzaYXxdo) . Truly one of the greatest "first kisses" ever, with the music and all, from a movie that still sees the inside of my dvd-player regularly whenever I feel nostalgic. WATTS RULES! Who else wanted to be a drummer when they saw this opening scene (/watch?vR1dHOg4-esw&featurerelated) over and over again? "You look good wearing my future!" (melts)
Anyhow, apart from expressing your love for classic John Hughes' movies, feel free to let me know where I made your toes curl with brain-dead typos or where I ass-raped the English language so much you want to ban me from this site.
Peace out, sisters
X Mikey