This is chapter One of what I hope to be a whole series of Michael and Kellerman storys.

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters they are owned by fox and I am just writing a story with them.

Kellerman's new rifle

'Hey Michael! Want to see my new rifle?' Said Paul Kellerman, with a laugh 'Just shot a secret service bastard to get it…' He playful ran his hand along the smooth black metal of the AK-47.
Michael looked up with a thoughtful look, his eyes fell upon the sight of Kellerman and the fine piece of machinery that he gripped firmly and proudly. A cheeky smile played upon his lips.
'Pack it in Paul, there's plenty of time for that later. Now you keep your eyes on that window - if you miss Mahone, we both end up in the clink. Remember we've both got blood our hands.' He looked down with a solemn expression upon his face.
'Michael, don't keep thinking of Lincoln - it was the only thing you could do - that shot not only ended his life, but it ended his suffering - we all know he wasn't getting out of that situation, Mahone was literally on his back - he would have ended up inside again, with half a leg and us there with him.' He walked towards Michael and crouched down beside him, placing a reassuring and comforting hand upon his back. Kellerman could feel the tension, the worry, within Michael's muscles and he began to run his hands smoothly and firmly up and down Michaels back. He ran his flat palms down to the base of Michaels spine, he felt him begin to ease and lean into his handiwork. The tips of his fingers ran along the edge of Michaels shirt, tight and ever so grubby but flattering and alluring all the same. 'I must borrow that top sometime.' He thought to himself. Kellerman began to edge his fingers under Michael's shirt. He shivered at the feel of Michaels bare skin. He felt Michael react to his touch. Michael groaned with pleasure as Paul moved his hands methodically and rhythmically.
Michael lifted his arms and, grabbing at the shoulders of his shirt pulled it off over his neck. Kellerman stopped for a moment, looking, drinking in the sight of Michaels tattoos. He sighed, every bit of Michael was beautiful to him - from the muscles of his back to the deep blue pools of his eyes. He leaned forward, hooking his chin over Michaels shoulder, nuzzling his nose into his neck breathing in his smell - son masculine but delicate. Suddenly he felt Michael tense up. Michael broke away roughly from Kellerman's embrace. He pulled himself to his feet and stood, looking around with a vacant expression. He gazed around the room his focus on the bare wall, the dusty corner, the cracked window frame - Anything but Kellerman's gaze. As Kellerman stood, Michael raised his hands to face, covering the emotion. Kellerman reached out towards Michael, confused. Confused and upset - he hadn't even got the chance to break open the Honey Dust.
'Don't… Don't touch me Paul.' Michael raised his voice angrily. 'I'm telling you - don't!'
Kellerman looked at Michael, aghast.
'You know nothing about Lincoln, this is all so wrong..I mean what about Sara?'
'Screw Sara..Michael I was there - Lincoln is gone, we have to move on. And don't..Please don't call this wrong.' He stopped unable to go on.. 'I..I..I've never felt anything so right.' He said quietly.

Michael began to pace the room. He just couldn't look at those deep brown eyes.. He knew he would melt, he knew he would fall to his knees. He wanted nothing more then to press his lips on Kellerman's - rough and hard, he shivered at the thought and struggled to muffle a groan, deep in his throat.
'Michael, please look at me..I..I want..' As Kellerman took a step towards Michael he reached out again - Longing for Michaels touch. Michael turned around and punched the wall. The sound, angry and loud reverberated around the silent, tense room.
'Paul, dammit..I..didn't mean for it to be this way, It wasn't part of the plan. Neither was Lincoln death, but I don't know what to do. I need you, but it can't be this way..' He collapsed onto a chair, once again holding his hands over his face.
Kellerman kneeled down, this time Michael allowed his touch. He pulled Michaels hands away from his face, and looked, full on into his eyes - awash with emotion. 'Look at me Michael.' Michael closed his eyes, his brow frowned. 'Michael, please.' Eventually he opened his eyes. The two men stared into each others eyes. 'Its ok..Michael we both know this is right.' Kellerman leaned in towards Michael… this was the moment he had been waiting for, the moment he had played over and over in his mind. Michael also leaned towards Kellerman, unable to fight it. Their lips brushed, the rough chapped lips of Kellerman's against the small smooth lips of Michaels. Michael exhaled loudly.

Suddenly they're was a knock at the door.. Another.. Then the thud of a foot crashing against the door. Michael pulled away, ruefully. 'Kellerman get out your rifle!' He shouted fiercely.

Please comment - I'm dying to know what you think - this is my first EVER fanfic!