It was midnight when they finally felt safe that everyone had tucked in for the night. Michael and Lincoln had been lent rooms in the same hallway as Snart and Rory, down by the workshop bay. Snart stepped out of his and shut the door. Across the hallway, Michael was doing the same. They looked at one another, sealing their deal with a last nod, then stepped forward at the same time. Leonard Snart entered Lincoln’s room without knocking and Michael waited till he closed the door behind him to enter Mick Rory’s room. The bulky guy inside was seated on the bed, toying with the heat gun.


Michael just stood there, not quite sure how to proceed. He had played it in his head a hundred times since he exposed his idea to Snart this morning, with a hundred different scenarios but now he had to actually do something he felt very unsure. The man that looked so much like his brother was looking calmly at him, as if he knew what Michael was here for. Not just as if he knew but as if he agreed.

“You were expecting me.”

“Yeah. Does that surprise you?”

Michael didn’t answer. It didn’t. He was perfectly aware that people who thought his brother stupid did so because he never said much and seemed dim compared to him. And were completely wrong. Rory was very much like Link and there was no reason he shouldn’t be as perceptive as his doppelganger.

“I want you to say it Michael. Say what you came here for.”

And it was as simple as that. This man who looked so much like Lincoln couldn’t be denied a truth he was not prepared to tell his sibling out loud even though he knew Lincoln was aware of it.

“I want him. My brother. But I can’t, I can never ever have him. We can’t ever… be together. So…”

He was unable to finish that sentence.

“So you thought you’d make yourself some good memories, without any of the guilt attached to it. I assume Snart is in Lincoln’s bedroom right now for much the same reason?”

Michael nodded, not taking his intense stare away from the beloved features.


Something unknit in Michael he hadn’t even noticed was tensed. His stance relaxed subtly.

“But we do this my way. Out there you’re the clever one that gets to decide the plan. In here, I’m calling the shots. Fair?”

Michael gulped. Giving control over to his brother in such circumstances he would have done without a second thought but this man was not his brother, that was kind of the point.

“Don’t worry, I won’t be doing anything you don’t like. Don’t over-think it Michael, either you want this or you don’t. But if you do, those are my terms. You’ll have to trust me.”

It wasn’t much of a choice. He did trust him even though he wasn’t too sure why and he wanted it very much. He nodded.


The big guy fiddled a moment with a small device lying on the nightstand and music started playing softly in the background. It wasn’t loud but there was a beat to it that was enthralling, all the more so because Michael had to strain his ears, trying to catch a pattern that eluded him. It was… distracting, but in a good way, numbing the part of his mind that was always capturing details and weaving them into complex schemes.

“Take off your shirt.”

Michael obeyed instantly. Maybe it was the fact that he knew this wasn’t his brother after all, maybe it was the hypnotic quality of the music but he didn’t have any trouble obeying the deep voice. He let the shirt fall on the spot. The other man came closer and Michael shifted unconsciously, turning towards him.

“Shush, don’t move.”

Michael stood still, his naked skin prickling under the close scrutiny. Light fingers traced the line that stood as a frontier between pale translucent skin and intricate tattoo on his nape, then all around along his collarbone.

“Did it hurt?”

“Not nearly as much as watching my brother die would have.” he answered truthfully.

“Did you enjoy it? The pain, I mean.” After a few seconds, when Michael didn’t answer, he continued. “I’m not gonna repeat anything you tell me tonight to anyone and that includes your brother.”

Michael took a moment to think it through before giving as accurate an answer as he could muster.

“Yes. I liked that I did it for him.”

“Is there anything you would refuse to do for him? Anything you don’t want to do now?”

This time he didn’t need to think about his reply. He’d lost three toes and a not so small patch of skin for his brother. Whatever he wanted to do with him would be just fine. He answered in a sigh. “No.”

At that, hot lips started a trail along his neck. A moan escaped him as his brain started to melt under the caress.


He scampered across the room and sat on the edge of the bed. A strong hand pushed him back until he was lying comfortably. Then the older man was all over him, using wet tongue and nimble fingers to draw the lines of an angelic wing, follow the maze of pipes hidden in it, discover the curves of soft flesh it was inked in. Michael was panting, his pulse a ragged thing that went wild in his chest. In his head, the music had melted into an unending mantra : Lincoln, I love you brother, love you so much, love you Link, love…

“You really look pretty.”

Michael wondered fleetingly why Mick would say that, memories of the pet name in Theodore Bagwell’s mouth threatening to ruin the moment. He focused on the here and now with an effort and propped himself up on his forearms, moving down the still clothed shape. He opened the fly and pulled the shirt up then let his mouth wander down the muscled abs as he settled between strong thighs. Michael lost himself in the tiniest details under his tongue. The rough feel of hair mixed with the musky scent of arousal, the way bulging veins pulsed purple, the heat of velvet skin. The faint beat of music was still steady, helping drown unwelcome sensations that distracted him. He took the cock firmly in his hand and started stroking, minute twitches speaking volumes as to what his partner liked and craved. Soon, he knew enough to up things a notch. He started sucking the tip gently, not wanting to get too rough and hurt.


Michael sucked harder and was rewarded by a soft moan. He didn’t mind being told what to do, it actually made it easier for him to focus on what was important.

“That’s good Michael, yes, just like that.”

Michael varied the rhythm and the strength, seeing if he could make it even better. He got a particularly strong reaction when he nibbled gently the soft skin that crowned the head.

“Enough, I don’t want to come so soon.”

He obeyed the hands tugging him up and was met by a hungry mouth that asserted firmly its ownership over him. The man he couldn’t help but thinking of as Lincoln kissed him deeply and he started trembling, overwhelmed by his emotions.

“Link, sorry, I mean Mick…”

“It’s alright, you can call me Link if you want to. I don’t mind.”

“No, it’s not…”

“Shut up. Actually, since I’m the one making the decisions, I say you call me Link.”

Glad the choice was taken away from him yet still a bit queasy about belittling Mick by giving him a name that was not his, Michael nodded feebly. He had forgotten what he was about to say in the first place. Mick tugged on his pants and Michael helped him get rid of his remaining clothes.

“On your knees now, ass up.”

Link had been trying to enjoy the moment, to make it last but he wanted Michael so badly he wasn’t too sure he was going to be able to wait much longer. He looked longingly at the beautiful tattoo on Michael’s back but concentrated his caresses on the oh-so-soft pearly skin of Michael’s long legs and lean muscles that were so different from his own massive bulk. He planted loud kisses on each buttock then licked the cute pimples that flashed when Michael’s muscles tensed.

Michael was lost in an ocean of warm tingles, so utterly trusting of the other man that when he felt his hands spread his cheeks his only reaction was to thrust his hips upwards. A delighted groan rewarded his initiative and he felt his brother’s tongue wetting his ass and circling his tight hole at a maddening slow pace. He was panting already and moaned when he felt it harden and push in. He was sent to another level of bliss, unable to decide if he should thrust up to open himself to the delicious touch or down to ease the aching need of his swollen cock. He was sliding his hand down when Link stopped him.


His voice was more bossy than ever and Michael felt himself respond to it, his body ablaze with raw desire. Two powerful hands seized his wrists. He tried to shrug them off tentatively but couldn’t manage to move an inch. He moaned under the pressure then moaned louder when he noticed another pressure much, much lower, a hot, hard pressure slippery with precome against the small of his back, sliding between his thighs, forcing its way along his cheeks. Link’s weight shift and he felt spit land on his crack then the tip of his brother’s cock was breaching his entrance slowly, giving him time to adjust then sliding on and on, so slow it made him feel like there was no end to the length of the large cock. He was out of his mind just thinking that it was Link that filled him so intimately. He felt the soft skin of the other man’s ball flipping his own and realized he had buried himself to the hilt.

He was moaning uncontrollably, begging his brother to just please, to more, to just goddam just fuck ! Behind him, Link increased his pace, making sure he was okay for the first few blows before losing it entirely. As he started pounding his ass, Michael felt his own cock twitch and wanted desperately to be touched there, still powerless to do it himself.

“Please Link !”

His lover gathered his hands behind his back and used his freed hand to stroke him.

“Come for me Michael, yeah, that’s it, let it go, come for me.”

Michael obeyed the husky voice and let the firm hand on his cock milk him until he had nothing left. He felt his ass tighten as the wave hit him and heard Link come loudly. Hot sperm filled his ass. Link gave a few more thrusts before crumbling on top of him. Michael was sound asleep before the older man rose, cleaned him with a soft towel and pulled a blanket over the magnificent tattoo.

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