Work Text:
Sucre stares at Michael when told to hang a sheet. "No way, man. You only hang a sheet when you and your cellie want to get friendly, you know?" he tells Michael, quickly creating distance between them. Michael just smiles, a secretive smile that makes Sucre believe that the other inmate was already aware of that.
He glares at Michael for a couple of seconds, then slowly over his shoulder and out between the bars. Three sheets are up on the other side. He swallows, then turn back to look at his cellie, a gasp escaping his lips when Michael is standing closer than he had expected.
A sheet is thrown into his hands as Michael leans forward, warm breath caressing his neck as soft words are whispered, "Is that so?" Then Michael leans back, one eyebrow raised and smirks.
Sucre looks at the sheet in his hands for a couple of seconds before turning around and hanging it up to cover their cell. Gentle hands touches his back, fingers twisting in his shirt. "Good," says Michael as he presses himself closer to Sucre’s back and plants a teasing kiss on the exposed neck.
fin.