This is just another of Brady's crazy dreams. This time, he's landed in prison for a crime he didn't commit! Any guesses on who he's gonna meet there?

This was written for my bestie Maria! Her birthday was a couple weeks ago and I couldn't get this done in time due to time restraints but she really loves the whole mystery of how Brandon would be in prison. So this is to indulge her in all her prison, ghetto fantasies. Love ya, girl! *Mwah*

Playlist: How To Disappear Completely by Radiohead, Concrete Walls by Fever Ray, I'm Not the One by The Black Keys, and Jesus For the Jugular by The Veils

Brady's POV

Fuck, please let me wake up…please let me wake up…this can't be real…has to be a dream…

But the weight of the shackles around my wrists and ankles certainly felt real….heavy, cold metal weighing me down like a ton of bricks.

Slowly I opened my eyes, praying that I would wake up safe and sound, snuggled in my bed and that the shackles were just leftover party favors from the night before or something…

Oh my God…I'm not dreaming…this is real…

Against the backdrop of a gray, cloudy sky stood a building that scared me way more than Anthony Perkins creepy house in Psycho…

'Huntsville Unit Texas State Penitentiary Est. 1848'

It was old and scary, a decrepit stone building closed in by massive dark red brick walls that seemed to stretch on forever.

On the far ends, stood towers with roaming guards armed with sinister sunglasses and huge machine guns.

I wasn't going to last a day in this place, let alone a year…six months with good behavior.

Good behavior? Wrongfully convicted for a crime I didn't commit. That's what I get for all those years of good behavior…

Grumbling, I tried to cross my arms with no avail due to the weighted shackles that held them down. Damn, they were already sore from the heaviness and the metal was chafing my wrists.

But then my ankle was yanked hard as I let out a yelp. The man sitting next to me, who shared the chain I was connected to, leered at me with slimy yellow teeth and a shiny bald head covered in tattoos. He spat, "Quit fucking moving!"

Oh God, Oh God, Oh God…I can't do this…

Biting my lip to keep the tears from spilling, I willed my body to stop shaking but I had never been more terrified in my life.

The closer we got to the building, the scarier it was. My heart was beating out of my chest by the time the bus stopped.

Hold it together, Brady…hold it together…

The huge guard stood and told us to file off the bus. Single file, we stood and faced the prison before two more guards came down the steps. They were as scary as the prisoners with their guns and smug look of power.

One sneered with a sadistic smile as he walked down the line, "Welcome to the Huntsville Unit Texas State Penitentiary, also known as the Walls Unit. The nickname comes from these massive, brick walls you see surrounding the building designed with the specific purpose of keeping you inside them. This is oldest Texas state prison in operation today, housing over 1,700 of the biggest and baddest criminals in the country. You are also standing on the forefront of the most active execution chamber in the United States, putting over 400 of you disgusting vermin to sleep every year. Now, we've been told that we also have the highest complaint of sexual abuse in the country but my advice to you, is don't complain. If you get raped…we don't care. If you get beaten…we don't care. If you get forced to suck big black Bubba's dick in the dirty bathroom while he's taking a shit…guess what? We don't care. So don't bother complaining…when you enter these walls you are nothing. Just another nameless grave forgotten at the back of the prison cemetery. So, my suggestion to you is keep your head down, your nose clean, and your asshole squeezed shut tight and maybe, you might make it outta here in one piece…"

Stopping in front of me, I could barely breathe as the ugly guard threw his head back in laughter, "Cept you, fairy boy…you ain't got a fuckin chance…you might as well becomes somebody's bitch the first night cuz you ain't surviving the second if you don't…"

Asshole…

Oh sweet baby Jesus, my asshole…I wasn't a virgin but I had only had sex once and it was a miserable experience…and now I was going to have to be somebody's bitch to survive…I was going to be skewered like a little piggy at a hog roast.

My mind was a blur as they took us in and got us processed. All except the initial strip down and search…I'll never forget that…

Spread 'em and cough…

Awk-ward…

So after an indiscernible amount of time had passed, I was dressed in awful orange, polyester pants and shirt over top of horrible tighty whities and a flimsy white t-shirt that was way too big.

But at least the long t-shirt covers my amazing but very vulnerable ass.

Believe it or not, the worst thing was the state issued tennis shoes. Plain white and plastic, like something from Dollar General, and they felt that way too. My feet were already sore as I stumbled along behind the guards to my cell, trying desperately not to trip and fall in front of the already cackling laughter from the cages of the monsters all around me.

As bad as the other prisoners were, calling out obscenities as I passed by, the guards were even worse.

Holding onto my little armful of prison issue clothes, toothbrush, toothpaste, soap, and toilet paper, I cringed at their whimsical discussion.

"Where's this little 'Nancy' headin to?"

With a chuckle, the heavy guard spoke, "Oh this one's gonna be bunkin with Whitlock…"

Their sadistic laughter was unnerving to say the least.

"He ain't gonna last the night…after what he did to that last celly of his, I can't believe they're puttin this little pussy in with that animal…"

"He musta done something to piss somebody off to get stuck with that crazy mother fucker…"

But I haven't done anything!

At the end of the long corridor was a set of steel doors leading to a huge open room with four tiers. Each level was filled with a single row of cells, concrete floors and walls with heavy steel bars across the front so that you can see inside.

I was too terrified to look so I kept my eyes down as I followed the guards up the metal staircase leading to the third tier.

Moving across the cell blocks was petrifying. The loud, never ending chatter, vile, disgusting insults, threats and the eager looks of the beasts in their open cages, just waiting to pounce…

Holy guacamole, they're going to lock me up with one of these creatures!

The cells were all opened on this tier and I could see a large rec type room down at the very end with two armed guards standing watch. Many prisoners were lounging around in their cells still but the majority seemed to be down at the end. Some were playing cards while others watched the small TV bolted into the wall.

Stopping in front of an open, empty cell, the guards chuckled like assholes, "Here you go, fuck boy…your new home for the next year…or until you get killed, either way…"

Stumbling forward into the dark, dank cell, I shuddered as a chill ran through my body. It was so cold…damp…and loud…my god, this place was loud with the music blaring from the different cells and the incessant chatter of all the inmates.

The cell was tiny with one bed on each side. The beds were cots really…with thin, disgusting looking, filthy mattresses and no pillows. There was a small toilet and sink and on one side of the small room, there was a steel gray locker slid underneath the cot.

I figured that meant the cot belonged to this "Whitlock" monster I had yet to encounter. So I set my things down on the end of the other cot and finally sat down.

My feet were aching but no way was I going to take off my shoes. And my whole body was still trembling as I started taking deep breaths just to get myself calmed down. Pulling my knees up to my chin, I buried my face as I tried to literally hold myself together.

I refused to cry out in the open, it would have to wait for night time but I was finding it almost impossible not to let the tears free that stung my eyes.

Stop it, Brady…you have to toughen up…no crying…you can do…

"Well, well, well, what do we got here?"

My eyes snapped open to see my worst nightmare come to reality.

Leaning against the frame of the cell door was the biggest, ugliest man I had ever seen. His vomit-inducing smirk showcased three and a half teeth though two of them were black…greasy, stringy black hair hung in front of his cold eyes and he was big enough to squash me whole with one hand of his big chubby fingers.

I was frozen stiff, my throat closing up as I choked on words I couldn't even say…I was just thankful that my glasses were a little foggy from my tears and I wouldn't have to see clearly what he was getting ready to do to me.

Grabbing his vile dick through his pants, he chuckled as he sloshed forward, "You're a purdy little fuck hole, huh…"

Burying my face in my knees, I held myself tight together in a little ball but my fingers lost their grip on my legs as I was being shoved mercilessly against the hard, cold, concrete wall.

My face hit it with a smack and the rusty taste of blood covered my bottom lip. I lost all the air in my lungs, gasping as his big, fat, smelly body pushed against mine. His foul breath, stinking of garbage and ass, permeated my mouth as I struggled to breathe from the weight of him.

Tears finally fled my eyes, falling down my cheeks and fogging up my glasses so that I could no longer see the cracked, gray paint of the cement against my face.

I scratched against the concrete in some sort of effort to get away as a big, rough hand shoved its way down the back of my pants and grabbed my ass so hard that I cried out.

"Why you squirmin for? You're gonna like this…"

My voice was so shaky and breathless I could barely recognize it as I rasped out, "Please don't…please stop…"

Like saying please was going to help me…

I was so naïve…

Resigning to my fate, I bit my lip to keep from screaming out as I clamped my eyes shut and just prayed that I'd pass out quickly…

But then the sound of a growl echoed throughout the tiny cell and all of the weight was gone as I fell to the hard floor on my knees. Raking in breaths of stale air, I quickly huddled in the corner as I looked up through tear stained glasses to see…a Greek God…an Adonis…a scary but incredibly beautiful man…

"The fuck you think you're doin, fat boy?! You think you can come into my home and touch shit that don't belong to you?!"

He had the ugly man's chubby arm twisted behind his back as he shoved his head into the concrete floor beneath him with a sickening smack.

Then there were two other men there, shuffling into the cell as they bent down and whispered, "Need help takin out the trash?"

The beautiful man nodded and growled, "Fucker touched somethin that don't belong to 'em…I wanna take this fat fuckin hand but since I ain't got no knife on me…throw this fucker off the tier…"

His muscles bulged through the back of his white t-shirt as he pulled the big, ugly pig to his feet and the others grabbed hold of him…then there was chaos as one nodded to the other and he left with a whistle, calling the criminals 'round in a frenzy as I watched him shove Ugly McRape Face over the railing.

I even heard the sound of his body smacking the floor like a watermelon smashing against concrete and the inmates cheering before a high pitched alarm caused me to cover my ears in pain.

There was more chaos as I heard the guards screaming, "Lock 'em down!"

Oh sweet Boba Fett , I'm gonna die…I'm gonna die and I haven't even experienced blow jobs or good consensual sex…

Clenching my eyes shut, I try to just cower in the corner but I gasp and my eyes spring open as I'm being lifted in big, strong arms. They gaze into the softest, baby blue eyes I had ever seen.

He was beautiful. With shaggy, dirty blonde hair that hung right past his ears and curled a little on the ends. And matching dark scruff on his chin and above his lip.

I found myself holding onto him, relishing the safety I felt being cradled against that massive chest and those huge arms, covered in dark ink holding onto me so tight.

Then he plopped me down on my bed before plopping down on his. Quickly opening the locker underneath his bed, he pulled out two magazines and threw one at me, "Here, act natural. You ain't seen nothin. You don't know nothin. And wipe your eyes off so they don't see you been cryin…"

Still a little stunned, I was surprised at how quickly I listened to the man; apparently this was the big, bad Whitlock boy.

But I made quick work of wiping off my eyes and settling on the bed, flipping open the copy of, 'Deer Hunter's Digest.'

The pages were crinkling as my whole body trembled. I had no idea why he helped me. Maybe he was just saving me for himself…maybe he just didn't want anyone in his 'home.'

This is not a home…

"Whitlock, I reckon you was just sittin here in your cell, reading your copy of 'Bass Master's' magazine and didn't see no trace of that big, ugly, whale of a man crawlin his enormous, fat, ass over this 4 foot rail right in front of your cell…"

One of the bastard guards that teased me before was glaring at the man sitting across from me, stretched out on the tiny bed and looking not a bit scared as he never even looked up from his magazine.

"Hmm? Somethin happen?"

The guard just rolled his eyes and then pointed at me, "You there? Did you see anything?"

Fuck you, asshole…

Turning my eyes back towards the page, I smirked and held it up, "I saw that this hunter's vest now comes in 'woodland' camo…"

I could have sworn I heard a snicker come from the Whitlock boy but when I glanced, he was still staring at his magazine.

The guard, however, was not amused.

"You think that's funny, you little shit! Was it funny getting that busted lip? How'd that happen, huh? Now you tell me everything and maybe I can work up some kind of a deal to get you outta this animal's cell and with some fancy little white collar criminal down on 'C' block…"

I still had no idea why this big, scary, beautiful man helped me…

I had no idea what he would do to me when the guard left…

But when I glanced over at him this time, he was looking back at me.

And there was something in his eyes…

Those baby blue eyes were soft and sad, like a lonely little puppy and I decided in that moment that I trusted this boy more than I trusted the asshole guard.

Breaking my gaze from those eyes was almost impossible but I was afraid to stare too long.

Taking a deep breath, I raised my chin and huff, "I'm not complaining, remember, because you don't care what happens to me. But if you must know, I fell. That's how I busted my lip. But I didn't see anything and I don't know anything."

He huffed and stormed away grumbling about how I'd be squealing like a pig before morning.

Swallowing the huge lump in my throat, I chanced another glance at the boy but his face was covered by the magazine he held…though I could see the deep dimple in his left cheek from what I assumed could only be a beautiful smile.

Ignoring the chaos outside of our cell, I looked back down at the stupid deer hunting magazine, blushing as I mumbled, "Um…thanks for…ya know…"

I don't know what I was expecting but when I just heard a huff and looked up to see his back turned towards me as he laid on his little cot.

For some reason, it made me sad. It's not like I expected him to want to be friends with me but it would've been nice to have someone to talk to.

And even if he was a little scary…he was still the most gorgeous man I had ever seen.

But I guess we weren't going to be friends…

Then the little bubble was broken and I could hear all the chattering and chaos around me again. Rolling my eyes, I lie on my back and wipe the quiet tears from my eyes.

God, I really am naïve…

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I lay there for what feels like forever until I hear a buzzer and the sound of the doors clanking open causing me to jump upright on my bed.

He's already on his feet and out the door without so much as a glance and I just curl myself up, not really wanting to leave my cell for any reason.

But then a guard is yanking me up by the arm, growling about 'chow time'.

Pushing me out into the filled corridor, I stumble as I fall into line. It's still loud and chaotic as I follow along, trying to just keep my head down to go unnoticed, but still, I get shoved around a bit.

My feet hurt from the cheap shoes…my shoulders hurt from the constant shoving…my ears hurt from the noise…

I really hate it here.

The sound of about 60 men marching down the rickety iron stairs is unnerving and the dirty white walls of the small hallway we walk down is depressing.

The hallway eventually lets out into another white room with about 200 fixed stainless steel tables and stools with wooden tops.

There's a small area in the back with maybe a dozen prisoners in white that are serving the food. Guards are at every corner and a couple are just walking around watching.

"Hey…hey, Ese…"

Turning my head, I see a little Mexican guy. He was skinny and short, like me, and he was actually smiling.

"Qué pasa Ese? Es usted de la familia de La Raiza?"

Well, shit, he thinks I'm Mexican too…

"Umm…"

Then he laughs, "You don't speak Spanish, huh?"

Facing front again, I continue walking behind the big, bald guy and mimic his actions as I pick up a tray and follow along.

"Um, no. Sorry."

Playfully, he hit my arm and smiled, "Is okay, Holmes…I'm gonna let you sit with mi familia anyway…"

It was a pleasant change of pace to finally have someone being nice to me. Grabbing my full tray, I nod my head and smile back, "Um, okay. Thanks."

I follow him to a table filled with big guys with tattoos and scars and I'm feeling a little apprehensive but the boy just sits down and nods with a smile, "Is okay, Ese…have a seat…"

Setting down my tray, I take a deep breath and sit but before I can even let it out, I here a familiar low growl coming from behind me.

"Get up."

My whole body breaks in goosebumps as I instinctively wrap my arms around myself and rasp out, "But I…"

"Now!"

He sounded so scary and mean…

I'm trembling as I stand, my shaky hands picking up my tray when he growls again, "Leave it."

Now I look up at his cold steel blues, "But I…"

The sound of my tray clattering to the table makes me jump as I'm being yanked by my arm hard and pushed out in front of him with another snarl, "Go. And keep that pretty little dick sucker shut tight."

He's pushing me along, his body pressed close to mine as one of the Mexican's speak, "My apologies, Holmes…I didn't know the boy was yours…"

The scary Whitlock boy spoke in a low, gravelly whisper as a guard approached, "He's mine. Come near him again and I'll end your fuckin life…"

I nearly went weak in the knees when he said I was his.

I guess if I have to be somebody's bitch, at least he looks like a sexy, big gladiator boy…even if he rapes and kills me before dawn…

Oh sweet Johesefat…I'm going to die…

This time my knees really do go weak and I brace myself to hit the cold concrete floor but then big, strong arms are around my waist, keeping me upright as a soft, raspy voice tickles my ear, "I got you…"

My whole body shudders but somehow I manage to make it the twenty feet to their table.

Then I'm being pushed down to sit on one of the stools as he slides onto the one next to me.

My eyes are glued to the table in front of me because I'm too terrified to look anywhere else. The smell of food, even prison food, makes my stomach growl and I wrap my arms around them to stop the hunger pains. I'm skinny but it's not from lack of eating. And right now it feels like it's been days since I had eaten.

But then he's sliding his tray over in front of me with a gruff grunt, "Eat."

I start to refuse but then have second thoughts and just grab the chicken sandwich. Taking a bite, I nearly moan because even though it's dry and the bread is kind of hard, it's still just so good to eat something.

As I chew, I finally glance up to see the scary, beautiful boy huddled in close with an older man. He's one of the same ones as before. He has black curly hair that's starting to thin and has a long jagged scar along his cheek.

They're talking quietly as I notice the beautiful boy's scarred up hands balled into fists on top of the table so hard that his knuckles are stark white. His knee is shaking underneath the table and he looks like he's two seconds from jumping up and killing somebody.

I just hope it isn't me.

But after a few minutes, it appears the older man has started to calm him down as his hands open and begin to relax on the table. They're very big and covered in scrapes and scars, evidence of a lifetime of brutality.

His knee is still bouncing though and before I can even think about what I'm doing, my thigh is pressed against his and my hand in on his knee to stop him.

It was meant as a friendly gesture, one that I would do to my friends if they were nervous but I soon fast realize my fatal mistake…

We are not friends.

His eyes have snapped to mine just as I yank my hand away so fast it's as if his knee burned me.

My eyes are wide and his are surprised as I stammer, "Umm…I have no idea…um…why I just did that…"

Dropping my eyes to the tray in front of me, I close them and pray he's not going to kill me.

But then I feel the warmth of a big, strong thigh pressed into mine and hear a sexy, raspy chuckle, "Eat, Princess…"

The chuckle throws me off guard and I almost smile.

Taking another bite of the sandwich, I chew quietly and then realize as I raise my eyes to see the other men around the table eating, that I have taken his food and he's not eating anything.

Perhaps I'm developing some weird sort of prison induced Stockholm syndrome but I tear the sandwich in two and shakily hand half to him.

His eyes snap to mine again and narrow. I can barely make out the sound of my trembling voice, "Here. You should eat something too."

He shakes his head but I can hear his belly rumble so I just breathe out, "Please."

Reaching out, he takes the sandwich and this time I do smile because he actually did what I asked without arguing with me.

It doesn't take long before I hear a buzzer going off and see the men starting to stand and form a line to leave the cafeteria.

His big hands are pressed flat against the small of my back, guiding me through the walk back up to our tier. He's huffing in my ear and his fingers are digging into my hips as he halts me to a stop in front of our cell.

We're ordered to stand and face the ledge with our arms to our side as a guard walks down the steel caged floor and does a head count. Then we're told to go inside our 'dorm' and sit on our beds as the steel doors clang shut once again.

"Light out at 10pm, boys."

I have no idea what time it is but I'm assuming that I'm stuck in here for the rest of the night now.

Pulling my knees up to my chest, I bury my face and just take a few deep breaths, preparing myself for whatever happens next.

Maybe he won't hurt me…but he called my mouth a pretty little dick sucker so that can't be good…

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Why is he so quiet? What's he waiting for?

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Maybe he really was trying to save me before with Chubbs McRaperface…but why was he so mean to me in front of the Mexican guys?

I don't know how long I sit there, afraid to look up as I wait and wait for something to happen. My thoughts are starting to drive me crazy…

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I wonder what Suzie's doing right now…probably dancing around in her room to the awesome sound of the 80's…

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Is he asleep? God, how long can a person stay so damn quiet…

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I want your horror, I want your design; 'Cause you're a criminal as long as your mine;I want your love…Love-love-love I want your love…you and me could write a bad romance, o-ohhh…

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When I get out of here, I'm going to finish art school and meet some fabulous man that will sweep me off my feet…he'll be strong and handsome and sweet…it'll be perfect…

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Why is he doing this to me? Why is he ignoring me when he acted like he was going to kill me? Why won't he just growl or snarl or do something…

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One day I'll have a little girl…her name will be Anastasia and I'll call her Ana. I'll get to dress her up in beautiful little princess dresses and put fancy ribbons in her hair…but she'll be a bit of a tomboy too because her daddy is a big, strong, beautiful man that never misses a football game and loves to take her fishing…and I might go with them but just to tan…baiting the hook totally grosses me out…

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Fuck, I'm so tired and hungry and damn it's fucking cold in here…wish those mother fuckers would shut the hell up already…why is it so god damn loud all the time…

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"Lights out!"

The guard yelling caused me to jump and the sudden movement made me yelp as my poor neck and back ached from sitting in one position for so long.

But then my eyes caught the sight of soft, wide, baby blue eyes before the lights snapped off and we were left in dark.

It took my eyes a moment to adjust to the sudden darkness. The soft white glow of the overhead lights outside the tier wall filtered into our dark, dank cell. The noise level dropped a notch but I was surprised at how loud it still was.

Looking through the steel bars and seeing nothing but a metal railing and concrete walls, I felt truly caged in.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I look over to the blue eyed boy but his back is turned to me again.

I'm terrified, exhausted, starving, disoriented, aching and confused…

And now I'm pissed…

"What the hell is your problem? You order me around, call me names but then when you get me back here alone, you ignore me…what kind of twisted mind game are you playing with me?"

I realize he's probably going to kill me but I can't take the silence and the waiting! It's agonizing and I'd rather just get this over with quickly.

He quickly sits up and my heart almost beats out of my chest as he snarls at me, "The fuck you think you're talkin to?"

It must be the adrenaline rush you get right before you die, but suddenly I was on my feet, doing my best to snarl back, "I'm talking to you!"

But then all the air left my body as I was thrown down on the bed, my back hitting the hard mattress as his hands held my down. He was on top of me and the weight of his body along with those gorgeous blue eyes just inches from my face caused all the chill to go away as I was suddenly drowning in fire.

He rasped, low and gravelly, "I saved your fuckin ass twice already, I think I deserve some fuckin respect, you little mother fucker…those Mexicans that I ordered you away from, they're a gang called the La Raiza…they was recruitin your sweet ass to be a fuckin hooker…they drugged your food cuz their boy works in the kitchen, it helps to keep you from fightin back while they take turns rapin you over the big sacks of flour in the back of the stock room with a knife to your throat…that's why I ordered you up and that's why I made you leave the tray…if they think your ass is mine, they'll back off and if they don't, I'll fuckin kill 'em…"

My heart was racing and frustrated tears were running down the sides of my face to my ears.

Then my hand was free as big, rough fingers gently pushed the hair back that was sticking to my forehead. His eyes softened, showing worn, tired creases in the corner and a scar above his left eye.

My free hand rose to tentatively touch the hard, inked bicep that was moving his hand so slowly across my cheek as he whispered, "I ain't gonna hurt you…"

Everything was blurry from my tears fogging up my glasses and my body ached as I trembled violently underneath him.

I was breaking down and it was the tenderness in his touch and the understanding in his eyes that finally broke the dam.

Latching onto him with my free arm, I bury my face in his neck and just start sobbing. He lets go of my other hand and wraps his arms tight around as I do the same. Then he's leaning back on my bed, pulling me with him. My back is against the wall as his body pins me protectively against it. The bed is way too small but he somehow manages to curl his body around mine.

And he just holds me as I sob and whimper and shake…until I'm so exhausted I can't even think…

But for the first time in a long time…I feel exquisitely warm and completely safe as I finally succumb to the exhaustion.

The next morning, I wake up with a groan as blinding lights flash on and a gruff voice yells, "Good mornin, prisoners! You got five minutes to make yourself all purdy before enjoying another fine meal in the ever-fancy Walls Unit dinin' hall!"

My body is stiff and sore as I pull myself up and rub my eyes with a grumble, "Cheery fucking assholes…I'd kill for a caramel mocha latte right now…"

"So violent…"

The soft chuckle makes me jump but my eyes are absolutely useless without my glasses. It doesn't matter though because I already recognize the voice.

Sure, he's still a little scary but I believe that he won't hurt me.

And the fact that he's chuckling has got to be a good sign. I'm a little embarrassed though as the ugly emotional breakdown I had just mere hours ago comes rearing it's ugly way up.

My cheeks are on fire as I pull my knees up again and mumble, "Um…sorry about last night…I'm not…usually so…ugh, that's a lie. I'm always emotional. I'll try to be um…tougher though…it's just…God, I'm really fucking terrified."

I feel the bed dip and hear his soft voice, "Here, take these…"

He places my glasses in my hand and I let out a breath, taking them with a small, "Thanks."

Once I could see, I couldn't breathe…

His soft, baby blue eyes were looking right at me from his place next to me on my bed but he wore such a sad smile as he spoke, "Don't worry 'bout last night…happens to all of us every once in awhile…"

I couldn't imagine this big tough man ever breaking down but he did look really tired when he wasn't growling.

And really beautiful.

Hell, he's even beautiful when he growls…

Clearing his throat, he looks away abruptly and huffs, "Get your shoes on, guards'll be here any minute…"

And we're back to hot moody boy.

Fine.

Rolling my eyes, I do as he says but only because I was planning on doing it anyway. I quickly put those death soles on my feet and brush my teeth in the gross little sink. Then I brush my hair while the big scary boy just leans against the bars and watches me with a ghost of a smile on his lips.

It's pissing me off again but the clank of the big iron bars opening throw me instantly back to being terrified and I'm jumping half way across the little cell to be near to him.

I don't want to do this, God please I don't want to do this again…

I'm not really all that scared to be alone with him in here…at least it's not nearly as scary as being out there with all of them. And I know that I absolutely cannot do it again without him.

With no shame, I fist the back of his shirt, clenching my eyes and pressing my face into his back as I mumble, "Please don't leave me this time…"

He stops abruptly and does nothing for a moment.

I'm silently praying that he doesn't shove me off him and I jump a little when I feel his rough fingers sliding around my waist. They pull me close to his side as I chance a look up at him.

He doesn't look mad or annoyed, like I expected. If anything, he looks kind of sad.

Taking my hand, he places it on the waistband of those horrible orange pants and leans down to whisper, "Your hand stays here when we're standin or sittin…keep your head down and do every fuckin thing I say, the first god damn time I say it…"

I barely have time to nod before we're being counted and shuffling off to the cafeteria. It's difficult to walk with my hand on his pants and eyes cast downward because they keep fixating on that incredibly large bulge in the front as he walks.

Luckily, every time I stumble, he's quick to grab hold of me and keep me from falling.

Soon, we're seated again on the hard wooden stools and consuming a horrible meal of runny scrambled eggs, an orange, and two slices of soggy bacon with a piece of stale toast.

I keep my fingers tucked into the waist band of his pants, against his hip. They're itching to just brush against that strong, hard pelvic bone…

And apparently they have a mind of their own because as I take a bite of my icky toast and keep my eyes focused on the tray…they begin rubbing slowly over that bone.

Wow…even sexier than I imagined…totally worth dying for…

He stops mid conversation and looks down at my hand…I'm praying he doesn't rip it off…but still, it would be totally worth it.

Carefully looking up underneath my lashes, I see him looking at me with a confused expression at first but he doesn't look angry.

But then…then, his cheeks darken slightly as he chances a small smile at me before just shaking his head and turning back to his conversation with his buddy from yesterday.

I consider it a small victory in understanding the enigma of this beautiful, scary man, because that blush in his cheeks had solidified my intent on figuring him out.

With my new found mission, it gave me something else to focus on other than the guy over at the table across from me smearing grape jelly on his cheeks as some Lady Gaga'esque make up trick.

Focus, Brady…focus on those strong muscles…you're his boy…he won't let anyone else touch you…because you're his bitch…fuck, I'm somebody's bitch…

When the buzzer went off, it startled me in my already frazzled state and I nearly jumped out of my skin, much to the amusement of my…my…what the hell is he?

He called me his boy…he called me princess…I'll call him my daddy…

But only in my head…don't ever say that out loud, Brady…

We stood and my hand never left his hip as the guard shouted, "Tier 3, shower or day room. For those that choose to wash your filthy asses, grab your pack from your cells and follow me…if you choose to stay, then day room privileges will be allowed for one hour."

No fucking way am I showering here.

Not gonna happen.

Nope.

Uh uh.

Fuck, he's grabbing his pack.

Back in our cell, I begin to panic as I see him grab a little roll of clothes and soap. Curling up on my bed, I shake my head, "No way. I'll just stay here."

He chuckles, "You can't avoid the showers forever. How long you got in here?"

Rocking back and forth, I hug my knees and mumble, "A year…six months with good behavior."

Sitting down next to me, he smiles, "Look, Princess, I like that you smell all nice like cocoa butter but after a few days in here, you're gonna be stinkin to high heaven. And 'sides, if you stay here, you're gonna be all alone. My guys are goin to the shower so ain't nobody gonna be here to keep an eye on you…"

Jumping to my feet, I grab the steel bars and yank as hard as I can to no avail, "Can't I just close these stupid things…lock myself in…"

He chuckles as he grabs my little roll of clothes and soap, "Don't work that way, darlin. They keep 'em open when they want and locked when they want…"

I groan and stomp my foot as he rolls his eyes with a smirk, "Really? You're gonna stomp your foot like a little kid?"

"I'm not a kid, I'm nineteen…"

Now he was shaking his head as he tucked his hair behind his ear, "Jesus Christ, you're just a fuckin' baby…"

"Tier 3, time to go!"

Throwing my head back, I groan again and huff in defeat as I grab my stuff from him, "I'm not a baby, I'm an adorable little man and as my daddy it's your job to keep my ass safe…"

With wide blue eyes, he chuckled, "What'd you call me?"

Grabbing his pants at the hip, I huffed in a low breath, "I didn't know what to call you so I called you 'daddy' in my head but I never meant to say it out loud…"

His big, rough hand pressed against the small of my back as he guided me into the line. Then he leaned down and whispered, "You can call me daddy, I kinda like it…but um…I'm Brandon by the way."

My eyes snap up to his and I can't help the smile that comes to my lips as I whisper, "I'm Brady."

With a nod of his head, he looks away but I can see the ghost of a smile on his lips as we continue our walk to the showers.

.

.

.

It's really kind of funny when I think about it…in a different life, me, Brady Seneca, standing in the showers with a room full of big naked men might be the beginning of some horribly raunchy pornographic dream but there's nothing sexy about this.

In fact, this is the most terrified I have ever been in my entire life.

I'm shorter than 85% of the men in here, skinnier than 80% though there are a lot of old, bony crack head looking guys…and some really big, muscular, Conan type guys…some fat ones, some old…

And there was just hairy balls and dicks everywhere.

By the time I stripped off my clothes, I could barely walk I was shaking so hard. My fingers were digging into Brandon's hip as he guided me into the shower, pulling me underneath the water as his big, strong body seemed to form a protective force field around me, shielding me from the ugliness.

Without my glasses, it was extremely hard to see anything. My whole body was on fire and I felt like I was ready to burst into tears as I raised on my tippy toes and whispered, "I can't see…"

It was hard to breathe and I felt like I was going to hyperventilate when his big rough hand took my arm and gently turn me around so that my back was pressed against his chest.

My hands were against the wall, just trying to grasp onto something as I felt his huge cock rub against my ass.

I was terrified but he said he wouldn't hurt me…

However, just as the thought ran through my mind, I heard a commotion around us followed by a few screams before they were muffled.

Then the sound of laughing and wet skin smacking against wet skin caused my knees to buckle as I bit my lip to stifle the sobs.

Even if I couldn't see it, I knew what was happening…I could hear it.

But I didn't hit the ground. A big, strong arm was around my waist holding me up on my feet as a soft, raspy voice tickled my ear, "Stay on your feet, the soap's right in front of you on the ledge. Clean your body, Brady."

This was too much as I heard the muffled screams continue.

I rasped out, "B-but…I-I…c-can't…I'm so…so s-scared…"

Then I heard him growl, "Cliff…"

Oh god, did I piss him off? Is he going to give me away to one of his friends?

Quickly I turned and wrapped my arms around his big, wet body and rasped, "Please don't leave me…"

He huffed as he peeled my body from his, "I'm not leavin', where the hell you expect me to go? Now turn around, don't make me tell ya again…"

My hands went against the wet wall again as my body shook in fear.

Clenching my eyes shut, I waited for it…but instead I felt two big, rough, soapy hands gliding over my legs.

Well this isn't bad at all…

His hands gently worked up my legs, the insides of my thighs, over my ass…his slick finger brushed against my hole and I had to bite my lip to stifle a groan of pleasure this time.

But as quickly as it happened, his hands were gone from my ass, sliding around to cup my balls and grasp my softened cock that was not going to stay soft for long if he kept this up.

Thankfully, or maybe not, his hands moved on quickly, rubbing across my back and chest before taking my trembling arms and washing them too.

Then they caressed my shoulders and neck so gently as they ascended to my hair, softly running his big, calloused fingers along my scalp as I couldn't contain the soft sigh that fell from my lips this time.

The scruff from his chin tickled my ear and caused my skin to prickle and rise as he whispered, "Keep your eyes closed tight…"

His hands were on my hips, guiding me until the hot water hit my body, cascading down my tired limbs as it washed the soap away.

Then I heard a chuckle from what I assumed was Cliff, "Jesus Christ, you done washin' your little princess yet?"

I could feel Brandon's whole body as he rumbled with a low laugh, "I'm done, fucker. Good lookin' out."

I could vaguely make out the shape of a man walking away but all I could focus on was the warm, strong, protective body wrapped around mine as I heard a guard call out, "Time's up!"

The water stopped abruptly and I was being shuffled out then wrapped in a small, itchy towel before I felt my glasses being pressed into my hand.

Letting out a sigh of relief, I slipped them on and was met with clear baby blue eyes.

He was standing there in nothing but a towel, the water trickling down his neck and chest while he tucked his wet hair behind his ear.

"Go on and get dressed, I got ya…"

The air left my body as I chanced a small smile and was met with one back before turning around and quickly pulling on my clothes. I have never been so happy to wear orange polyester in my whole entire life.

.

.

.

It wasn't much longer later, we were walking to the day room, my hand firmly tucked on the inside of his waistband of his pants.

The room was a big, cement rectangle with a small TV bolted to the wall in one corner along with a few small tables like the ones in the cafeteria, also bolted down. The stools came up from the floor around the tables but there was also a few random folding chairs strewn about.

I followed him along to one of the tables as he sat down. So I started to sit on the stool on the other side of the table but a big hand was around my arm, yanking me back, "Where the fuck you think you're goin'?"

Shit…scary Brandon was back.

The snarl on those pretty pink lips caused me to stumble over my words, "I was…um…going to sit down over…"

But I didn't finish as I was being shoved down on my knees to the ground next to him, "You sit your pretty ass down right here and don't fuckin' move."

The other guys chuckled and Brandon shot them a glare that made them stop in their tracks and look away before he looked back at me with steel gray eyes, "You don't fuckin' move, don't speak, don't even fuckin' look up from the god damn floor 'lest I give you fuckin' permission, ya got that Princess?"

For the millionth time, I fought back the tears. I didn't understand how he could go from being so gentle and sweet to being so mean and scary.

Did he like me? Did he hate me? I had no idea.

And I didn't even know why I cared.

In this place, I didn't matter. I was nothing.

With all the fight in me gone, I hang my head and give a small nod while I sit on the floor with my back against his leg. Pulling my knees up, I bury my face in them and try to focus on breathing and just getting through the day.

It's so noisy and I'm mentally and physically exhausted by the time the guards yell that they need a head count before lockdown.

After the guards do a quick count of us, we're told to go 'home.'

As soon I step inside the cell, I curl up on my bed with my back to him. I just can't take another confrontation with him right now. I feel like I'm two seconds away from just shattering into a million pieces and it's not even lunch time yet.

.

.

.

But eventually lunch comes and goes. I do the silent, lost puppy routine and stick by his side but I keep my eyes on the floor.

The last thing I need to do is fall for this guy. I don't need distracted by his bulging biceps covered in dark ink and shadows…by the pale blond hair that hangs shaggy around his gorgeous fucking face…that crazy, scruffy chin and those eyes bluer than any sky I've ever seen…

But still, he's an asshole.

Even if he has brief moments of sweetness in-between his erratic tirades, I don't like the way he's treating me.

You're his bitch, Brady, what the hell do you expect to be treated like? A princess?

So I spend the entire day just festering and by the time we're out in the yard, the 'fight' in me has returned full force.

I've never been so angry in my life. Angry for being here. Pissed about being treated like nothing. And infuriated over this mean, gorgeous boy's presence in my life.

The story of my fucking life…another beautiful asshole for me to fall for and not be able to have.

"Sit. Don't fuckin' move."

We were standing by some weight equipment and he pushed me towards a concrete bench to sit like a good little bitch while he lifted weights with his buddies.

But I just couldn't help myself.

Spinning on my heels, I folded my arms across my chest and blurted out, "No."

I didn't think that one little word could cause such a big reaction but everything went quiet with that one little word.

Right before it exploded with the loud roar of the men watching the little display and obviously rooting for blood as they told Brandon he better control his little bitch.

The look on Brandon's face sent chills through my body but I wasn't entirely sure if it was from fear or desire…

Yeah he was scary, but fuck me running he was sexy…

I shivered as he gave a little nod to Cliff in understanding of something…

Oh shit, he's gonna kill me…God, I hope he fucks me first…

There's not even time to scold myself for the deeply disturbing thought I just had because a strong hand is covering my mouth as I'm being dragged across the gravel. My feet are kicking but I'm getting no traction and his other arm is holding mine to my side.

Cliff and his 'men' are surrounding us as he drags me off to a corner, trying to act as a shield for Brandon to the guards.

Even at this point, I'm not entirely sure I want to be caught.

I have serious psychological problems…

But then I'm being pushed into a brick wall, the hot surface scratching my cheek as he growls low and harsh, "Are you outta your god damn mind?"

Apparently I am because I can feel the outline of his cock, pressed against my back side so long and thick through the thin fabric of these stupid cock-blocking pants, and a small moan hums against his hand over my mouth as my ass pushes against it of its own free will.

Maybe I should see a prison therapist…

But then I'm rewarded with a breathless "Fuck" as his head falls to my shoulder and he groans, "You are fuckin' crazy…what are you doin', I'm tryin' to keep you safe…"

See, I knew it…somewhere deep inside I knew he wouldn't hurt me…

Pulling his hand from my mouth, I gasp as my heart races, "Why? Why keep me safe?"

His breath huffs in my ear, "Just…cuz I am, okay? Fuck, are you always so god damn bull headed?"

That actually makes me giggle as I push back against his dick again, "I'm exuberant…"

He groans again as he grips my hips, his fingers digging through the thin, orange polyester, "The fuck does that mean?"

Looking up at him from over my shoulder, I find myself flirting as I smile, "You answer my question then I'll answer yours. Why do you wanna keep me safe?"

Those clear blue eyes drop to my ass, then to the ground as I notice his cheeks begin to darken.

That gives me the confidence to turn in his arms and duck my head to look at him. My heart is beating out of my chest but I just have to know.

So with a whisper, I ask, "Do you like me?"

Now his cheeks go up in flames and the appearance of dimples cause my heart to swell as he keeps his eyes on the ground.

I'm grinning as I giggle, "Do you like me a lot?"

Looking away, he's smiling like the Cheshire cat before his eyes snap to mine and he just looks at me with that big beautiful grin while my heart melts.

His hair is falling in front of his eyes and I have to bite my lip when he tucks it behind his ear, the simple gesture causing me to rock on my toes with the sheer desire to just reach up and kiss those pink lips.

But then I let out a yelp as I'm yanked and turned back with my cheek to the brick. His body is pressed hard against mine as he growls softly in my ear, "You're gonna get yourself killed, little boy. You think I like orderin' you around like a little bitch? For your mother fuckin' information, I don't. But that fat fucker I had thrown off the tier yesterday, he ran with the Aryans. They don't give a shit that their buddy went splat but it pisses them off that a white boy took another white boy's life over your pretty little cocoa ass. So, now they're gunnin' for you. The fuckin' La Raiza is gunnin' for me cuz I stole you away from them but they know they can't get me so guess who they're after? All it takes is a mother fuckin' second for them to get close enough to kill you. They ain't gonna rape ya, ain't gonna torture ya…they're gonna sneak up behind ya and slice your fuckin' throat then walk away like it ain't nothin…"

That got my attention. Chills ran down my body as his breath huffed against my neck in a pained whisper, "Look, Brady, I like that you're sassy…that you got fire in ya…I'm just tryin' to keep that fire goin' long enough for you to get the fuck outta here…you shouldn't be here…this ain't no place for you…"

My eyes were stinging with the realization that he really was trying to protect me. A few tears rolled down my cheek and I sniffled.

He just sighed, "I know this is a whole different world for you…and in the real world I wouldn't treat you so bad but they gotta know you're mine…you gotta be right by my side every-fuckin-where you go. You gotta do what I fuckin' say and keep that sassy mouth of yours shut. I don't wanna hurt you…sorry 'bout scratchin' your little cheek…"

I fought the urge to sob but barely. I was emotionally overwhelmed and exhausted.

But he was right, this wasn't my world. It was his and to survive in here I was going to have to listen to him.

And that was okay because I trusted him.

Taking a deep breath, I choked back the sobs and whispered, "Ok…I'll do whatever you want, listen to whatever you say…just…do you really think you can keep me safe? You won't let them get me?"

This time he turned me around to face them as his calloused fingers ran over my cheek so softly that it caused me to sway on my feet, "I'll kill any-fuckin-body that comes near you, Princess…"

I realize that it shouldn't make me feel good to hear that but screw it, I'm eternally grateful to the beautiful man who's willing to do anything to keep me safe.

Nodding my head, I whisper, "Okay."

Pulling away from me, he sighs, "Alright then, you know what to do…"

I slip my fingers into the waist of his orange pants, gripping them at the hip as I lower my eyes to the ground.

But then I just can't help myself as I brush my fingers over his hard hipbone. I chance a quick glance up to see a dimpled grin as he shakes his head and chuckles, "Jesus Christ, you're fuckin' trouble…"

Biting my lip to keep from grinning like an idiot, I drop my eyes back to the ground and try not to giggle as he leads me back out to the weight bench.

Brandon's talking low with his guys when we get back, mumbling too soft for me to hear. And I realize I should still be terrified but I'm not.

I feel completely safe with him.

Which is absolutely insane but sanity has never been my strong suit anyway.

Eventually they start lifting weights and smoking their cigarettes. I start to sit down on the hard ground next to the weight bench but he shakes his head, "Uh uh…sit your fine ass on the bench, Princess."

Giving him a small smile, I sit down on the hard concrete bench to watch him lift. Two of the guys he hangs out with are standing behind me, presumably watching my back.

I have to admit, it's kind of cool having my very own bodyguards…but I guess needing bodyguards kind of sucks.

Anyway, I couldn't even dwell on the fact that two major prison gangs were trying to shank my pretty cocoa ass…because all I could focus on was him peeling off that orange shirt and white tee underneath it.

Crossing my legs to try to keep myself from getting hard, I have to actually gulp to swallow the drool that's pooling in my mouth…this man is making me literally salivate.

He's just so…big.

His arms are rock solid, covered in dark ink and shadows and there's a trail of dirty blonde hair trailing down from under his belly button, disappearing underneath the low waist of his baggy orange pants that are exposing his crisp white boxers against his dark tan skin.

Then he lays down on the makeshift bench and his muscles are stretched tight as he lifts up the big, heavy weights.

Fuck, he could throw me around like a little rag doll…

That thought makes me bite my lip and squirm a little…I really should turn my eyes away before I get hard but even though I'm not a religious man, that just seems like pure blasphemy right now.

His blonde hair is sweaty and damp as he lifts those huge weights over and over. I watch as his big, strong thighs twitch and shake from the exertion. I can see the outline of his cock through those thin orange pants lying against his thigh.

I'm physically fighting the temptation to just walk over there and lie down on top of him, straddling his lap while he puts those big, sexy muscles to work when the dark, curly haired man, Cliff, sits down next to me.

He takes a long drag from his cigarette and chuckles, "You're not bein' very good at bein' subtle, Cocoa."

Shit…and what the hell? Cocoa?

Furrowing my brows, I tear my eyes away from Brandon to look across the yard nonchalantly, "I don't know what you're talking about. And don't call me Cocoa."

But my deep blush is easily giving me away as he just laughs and shakes his head, "Well you might be just as ornery as he is…a match made in Heaven…"

Then he smirks at me, "Well, maybe not Heaven…"

Cliff seemed to be the closest to Brandon. They were always talking and communicating with each other without talking too, subtle nods and glances.

So I wondered aloud, "Does he…does he swing my way?"

Taking another drag, he shrugs as he slowly exhales, "I dunno. He ain't taken up with nobody in here 'fore like he has with you. He don't talk much 'bout his past but he ain't never mentioned a special lady or nothin…so maybe he does. Don't matter none much anyways…there's a lot o'men in this place that could be called a little gay, if ya know what I mean…"

It was nice to just sit and talk with someone. Brandon trusted this guy so it made me feel safe trusting him to.

"So, if he was, um…a little 'gay', that wouldn't bother you and um…your gang?"

Again, he just shrugs and seems to think quietly for a minute before he speaks, low and soft, "Has he told you anythin' 'bout us?"

Hoping that I didn't piss him off, I quickly shook my head and stammered, "No…nothing. He's barely spoken to me."

He chuckled and scratched at the light stubble covering his chin, "We're not a gang, Cocoa. We're lifers. Murderers. The dirtiest sons of bitches in this mother fucker…"

My skin broke out in goosebumps as I lost the air in my lungs, managing to squeak out a breathless, "Brandon's a lifer?"

I wasn't sure why I was so surprised, I mean I did see him have a guy thrown off a three story tier…

And of course it's another amazing beautiful man that I can't have…

Turning to me, he smiled, "Nope. He's the only one of us ain't in here for life without parole…just some petty thievery bullshit. In fact, he's only got 'bout a year left, six months with good behavior but I wouldn't count on that shit…"

Yay! Only a year! Maybe six months if I can make him be good…but still, a year isn't so bad…

I couldn't fight the stupid grin I wore as I looked over at the older man, "Really? Do you think he likes me?"

Oh my God, Brady! This is not Suzie you're talking to…he's a hardened criminal, convict, murderer, maybe mass for all I know…but damn it, why's he smiling like that and not answering me?!

"Well, I don't know but I could pass him a note durin' lunch if ya want…ya know, 'Do ya like Cocoa? Check yes or no…"

My cheeks go up in flames as I look down at the ground, feeling like a complete idiot.

But then he nudges my shoulder and smiles, "Ya know, that's why he likes you…cuz you ain't like us…ya ain't all fucked up from the world yet, it ain't got you whole like it does us…"

I was gonna have to toughen up to be here so I took a breath and smiled as I leaned back on my hands, "And how do you know that? You don't know what I'm in for, you don't know that I'm good. I could be a complete maniac…"

He broke out into full on laughter which kinda caused me to lose a little of my confidence.

Once he calmed down, he wiped his eyes and chuckled, "You're cute, Cocoa. Funny too. And yeah, I know what you're in for and ya know why I think you're good?"

Looking over at him, I nodded as he took another drag of his cigarette.

Slowly exhaling, he turned to me and smiled, "Cuz you never even asked what we did to get in here…cuz ya wasn't quick to judge us and cuz you cared more 'bout whether my boy liked ya or not then anything else…in my book, that makes ya good."

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I realized I really didn't care what they did. I really didn't even wanna know. In a different world, it might bother me but in this world, I was just glad to have some allies.

I could still feel the fire in my cheeks as I looked back at Brandon. He huffed and puffed, pumping that iron like he was preparing to go and blow some little piggy's house down.

"So, um…if he's not a lifer, why do you guys hang together?"

He sighed next to me, "I'm a good friend of his uncle's. Kinda took him in when he came here. Fuck, it's been 'bout six years now…the boy feels like a son to me. See, I ain't ever gonna have a family of my own, no wife, no kids, not even a god damn dog to call my own. I was only 21 when I got locked up. Just a kid myself. My daddy split when I was little and my momma did the best she could but raisin' six mean ass kids took a toll on her. She died that first year I was in here."

My heart ached at the man who was splitting himself open right in front of me.

Taking a drag of his cigarette, he looked over at me with a sad smile, "When Brandon first got here, he was big but he was still just a kid. He didn't trust nobody, real loner…over the years, he's opened up a little but still he's a tough nut to crack. I try and look after him, ya know…if somethin' needs done, we do it…he only watches out or helps out on the take down but I don't let him get his hands too dirty. He's the only one outta all of us that got half a chance to make it outta here and have a fuckin' life. And I think he could use someone like you…the boy's fuckin' lonely. But I'm trustin' ya to keep my boy's heart safe, Cocoa, cuz somethin' tells me you could hurt him real bad if ya wanted to…"

I wasn't sure why he was telling me all of this but it was nice that he trusted me.

And I appreciated that he tried to look out for Brandon…it seemed like he needed it.

Then a loud buzzer signified it was time to go back in and I smiled as I looked into the hazel-green eyes of the older man who obviously cared for his friend.

"I don't want to hurt him. I like him. A lot. I just want to get to know him."

He chuckled as we stood together, "Piece of advice, Brady…be brave. Like I said, he's gonna be a tough nut to crack…"

Brandon walked up next to us as he wiped the sweat off his face with his white tee, "The fuck ya'll talkin' bout?"

Cliff just chuckled, "Why? You jealous? Do you like Cocoa?"

He winked at me as I blushed and looked down at the ground.

I heard Brandon sigh but it sounded like he was smiling, "Fuck off, Cliff."

After yard time, there was another head count and then dinner.

Brandon was quiet during dinner, barely even talking to Cliff as he seemed to be distracted by whatever was weighing so heavy on his mind.

I had been thinking a lot too.

And I decided that however hard this might be, it was gonna be totally worth it.

So later that evening, when we were sitting on our beds; me writing letters to my friends while he tried to look like he was sleeping, I decided to be brave.

Clearing my throat, I looked over at his still form on the tiny bed. His knees were raised up as he tried to fit his whole body on the ridiculous thing. His arms were crossed tight over his bare chest and his eyes were closed but I could tell by the uneven breathing and crease in his brows that he was just pretending to be asleep.

"So um…hey, are you asleep?"

He didn't say anything but I saw him hold his breath for a moment when he heard my voice.

Letting out a breath, I looked down and saw the letter I was writing to Suzie, my best friend, the girl that gave me strength to just be me.

Channeling the sassy, southern girl, I take another breath and raise my eyes, "I know you're not sleeping, Brandon. It's okay if you don't wanna talk to me but um…I'm just gonna talk to you, okay?"

His brows furrowed again but he still didn't open his eyes.

So I just started talking…spilling my deepest secrets to the scary, beautiful man that pretended to be sleeping.

.

.

.

"I don't have any brothers or sisters so I guess I grew up kind of lonely. When I was little I would make believe that I was famous and had legions of adoring fans…but it turns out I'm not much of a singer or actor…I tried out for the school play once…they were doing Grease, which is like, my favorite musical…anyway, I didn't get the part of the Teen Angel…"

He held his breath again for a moment and shifted a little on the bed but still say anything.

"But, um…it turns out, I'm pretty good at art so I got to design the sets. It was a lot of fun. I'm really good actually…even got a scholarship to college for art…though I'm sure it's probably revoked now…"

.

.

.

"I got bullied a lot in school…knocked around and made fun of…they even held me down in the locker room once and shaved off all my hair. I remember that my mom and dad were mad at me for it…for embarrassing them by getting myself jumped…I think that's really probably the lowest point in my life…knowing that the people who were supposed to protect me, really didn't care what happened to me as long as it didn't make them look bad…"

Now he rolled over onto his side, facing me.

The guard called for 'Lights out' and as soon as the lights flickered off, I saw his soft baby blue eyes open to look at me.

He still didn't say anything, but he was listening.

.

.

.

I was now lying on my side, mirroring him as I spoke softly into the damp, stale air, getting lost in those beautiful eyes.

"I was 15 when they kicked me out. They wouldn't even let me get my shoes. I waited outside in the rain, my eye pounding from where my father hit me but I couldn't see anyway because I didn't have my glasses. I waited out in the woods behind our little house for hours till I knew they were sleeping. Then I snuck back in through my window and grabbed what little I could before taking off..."

Finally, I heard a soft rasp, "You was homeless too?"

Catching the breath he stole from me, I stumbled, "Um, well actually my um…my uncle let me stay at his house. They didn't have an extra bedroom but he gave me the couch. Mostly though, I stayed with friends…just kind of…ya know, bouncing from place to place until I graduated high school. I live in Seattle now. That's where I go to school. Or went, rather…"

Furrowing his brows, he raised up on his elbow as he spoke low and soft, "You're an awful long way from home…"

Looking down at the cracked cement floor, I sighed, "Yeah, I know…"

Barely a whisper, I heard his voice rasp out, "What are you doin' here, Brady?"

A wave of desperation crashed through me as I squeaked out, "I don't know…"

"Why are you tellin' me so much? What do you want from me?"

He was sitting up on his bed now, staring at me with those confused, guarded blue eyes like I was the most confounding mystery in the whole world.

"I don't know…I just…I just wanna know you, Brandon…be your friend…"

Ya know, straddle your thighs, bite your neck, lick your scruffy chin…

"And sweet baby Jesus, I really wanna kiss you right now…"

His blue eyes went wide and I realized that I said that last part out loud.

Oops.

Dropping my eyes to the floor, I cursed myself silently this time as I mumbled, "Um…shit…well, uh…I could say I was kidding but that would be a lie and I'm a lot of things but not a liar…"

I peeked up through my lashes to see him staring hard at the cracks in floor, the deep blush on his scruffy cheeks the only indication of any reaction to what I just said as his expression was set in stone.

Taking a deep breath, I poked my sock covered toe down onto the floor and slowly slid it along that crevice as I mumbled, "But um…I promise not to cross the line…see…"

A loud scream from a cell close by caused me to jump up to my feet and in the process, I stubbed my toe on the stupid crack which caused me to stumble and fall…

When I hit something hard, I assumed it was the floor until it moved to cradle me.

Instinctively my arms wrapped around the big, broad shoulders of the arms that held me tight.

"You okay?"

My breathing hitched and my cheeks flushed for many reasons as I rasped out, "Um, I'm fine…just a little embarrassed…"

His hand ran down my leg through the thin orange pants causing me to shudder as it reached my foot.

But then I smacked his arm and let out a yelp when his hand brushed my big toe because it hurt.

I began apologizing profusely but he just grinned that big, beautiful dimpled grin, "Well, that's the thing about fallin'…sometimes that shit hurts…"

But not if someone catches you…

Then we were both chuckling as he placed me gently on his bed and dropped to his knees in front of me.

After spending all of my time sitting at his feet, it was really nice to have him sitting at mine for a change.

With the gentlest of touches, he took my foot in his hand and slowly began rolling down my sock; his calloused fingertips giving me goose bumps as they brushed along my bare skin.

I stared in wonder at the beast of a man kneeling on the floor, examining my little foot in his huge hand like it was the most amazing thing in the world.

Oh thank you Buddha, I'm so glad I remembered to take off that rainbow nail polish Suzie insisted I wear…but damn, they'd liven up these stupid orange pants…and don't even think about these plain white briefs, Brady…you don't need to start crying again…

"You got the tiniest little feet…"

"You've got really big, strong hands…"

God, think before you speak, Brady…

But God they're so big…and…

"So rough…they feel so good…"

Well, shit, that didn't work out so well…

But I couldn't help it because now those big, sandpaper fingers were gliding across my toes and causing the hair on my skin to rise…well, not just the hair…

Biting my lip to keep from saying anything else stupid, he looked up at me with guarded steel eyes that caused me to shudder from the iciness.

My body was on fire, fighting itself for burning with desire or embarrassment, with finally the latter winning.

"Um…I'm sorry…I didn't um…mean to cross the line…I just…ya know, fell…"

With a snarl on his lips, he spat out, "Fuck that line…the fuck you keep sayin' shit like that? I said I'd fuckin' keep you safe, so quit fuckin' sayin' shit like that…"

He was up and pacing the dark cell, like a caged animal going stir crazy finally leaning against the bars with his back to me and head down, mumbling to himself.

As quietly as I could, I padded across the small cell to my bed, sitting on the hard mattress and yanking my trembling knees up to my chest.

After what seemed like forever, I heard him let out a long sigh and I peeked over my knees to see him walk back to his bed, shoulders hung low as he flopped down on his back, throwing his arm over his face.

I wanted to say something…to apologize again but my eyes were transfixed on those pale pink lips, open and taking in deep breaths as he seemed to be trying to calm himself down.

Finally, his voice broke through the darkness, low and saturated with pain as he rasped out, "You ain't…ya ain't gotta pretend that ya like me, Brady…you don't even know me…"

But I think I do…

He was so utterly confusing and I found myself getting frustrated as I looked at those lips that I couldn't kiss.

"What in the world are you talking about? I may have a very overactive imagination but I'm not pretending anything! I just…ya know, thought that you liked me like that because why else would you be protecting me? And I'm so sorry if I made you uncomfortable but it's entirely your fault! You're just so…so…frustratingly beautiful…"

Those baby blues snapped to mine as he breathed out, "You ain't gotta say nice things 'bout me or act like you wanna kiss me cuz I know it's all bullshit. All you really want is to keep your pretty little ass safe while you're in here…it's cool, I understand, just don't lie about it…"

Did he really think those things? Why would he think that?

"Brandon, I don't lie. I would never tell you or anyone else that I felt something I didn't feel. I'm not made that way. And yeah I wanna be kept safe in here and I'm so incredibly grateful that you would do that for me without even knowing me either. I'm even more touched and amazed that you'd do it and ask for nothing in return. So add all those beautiful things about you with the fact that you're physically the most attractive man I've ever seen, and that's including my most perverted fantasies…then yes, I'm sorry but I want to kiss you. I want to do…lots of things with you…to you…you wanted the truth and there it is, plain and simple. I want you."

I hoped he believed me. I couldn't understand why he wouldn't, I mean really…why would it be hard to believe that someone like me wanted someone like him? The hard thing…the impossible thing would be that someone as beautiful as him could ever want someone as plain and weird as me.

His eyes hadn't left mine during the entire rant but he was wearing that same expressionless poker face that I was getting used to…I didn't like it and I didn't wanna get used to it.

But then I took the time to really look…to see the dark, purple circles under his tired blue eyes, the small scars splattered all over his body like stars in the sky, the soft blue veins underneath tanned skinned arms that paled as they got closer to his shoulders, and the way his chest flexed and coiled as his breathing began to pick up…

I wasn't sure if he was getting mad as chills ran through my body while I pulled my knees closer and buried my face mumbling, "But it's cool, I get it…I mean, of course you wouldn't want someone like me to want you…most guys don't…I'm sure you want some big titted blonde with…gross girl parts…not some little fairy geek like me…"

Closing my eyes, I take a few deep breaths, trying to stop the dull ache in my chest from spreading.

As loud as this place is, with the constant yelling and noise, this lonely little cell was much too quiet.

Eventually, my body revolted against being curled up this way for so long, so I finally lay down, my back facing him as I stare the dirty, gray walls and prayed for sleep.

"I had a…a boyfriend once…sorta…it was a long time ago, 'fore I got locked up in here…his um…name was Angel…and you remind me an awful lot of him…"

His soft, raspy voice reached my ears and I turned over to face him. His eyes were still closed and his arm slung over his face, but he kept talking…

.

.

.

"Sometimes I wonder if daddy was still alive if things would be different…I mean, I know he was into guys too so he couldn't of hated me for it like mama does…I like to think that maybe he was some really good guy, ya know…like maybe he woulda taken me away and raised me right…to where I wasn't such a fucked up piece of shit…he was most likely an asshole though…"

With wide eyes I studied the ink on his arms, finally starting to see the real pictures underneath as I whispered, "You're not a piece of shit, Brandon…and fucking up a few times doesn't make you a fuck up…it just makes you…ya know, real…real people are flawed and messy…they're difficult…real people fuck up, usually more than once but the beautiful thing about being a real person is that you get to experience the overwhelming feeling of joy when you overcome the bad things in your life to become a better person…if we were born perfect, life would be painfully boring and then we wouldn't have great classic underdog stories like Rocky or The Karate Kid!"

This was a subject I was passionate about because I knew I was very flawed and I was okay with that, as long as I always strived to just be a good person.

And that wasn't something I learned as a child from my parents but from the Cullen's who were weird and crazy and the most wonderful people I had ever known. They weren't perfect and they didn't try to be…they just tried to be good.

Finally, his big arm moved from over top his eyes as he sat up on his side and looked at me with beautiful clear blue eyes and a dimpled grin, "Rocky's classic…and the crane kick in Karate Kid was badass…"

I smiled back as I raised up on my elbow, "I know! I totally hated that they remade that movie, I mean, it was okay but the end move with that kid all doing a 360 in the air was just stupid…Ralph Macchio kicked ass with a move that even I could do! That's what was so awesome about it!"

Now his eyebrows furrowed, "Wait, they remade the Karate Kid?"

.

.

.

"It wasn't nothin' to get up with a few of my guys and go hit up some dealer who was flashin' his shit a little too much…when boys 'round here start to come up, they flaunt it too hard…it's almost like darin' boys like me to go after 'em…so we'd strap up and go in, just crazy mother fuckers and take that shit…what's he gonna do? Call the cops and complain he just got hit for ten grand and two keys? Sure, we'd have to watch our backs and shit but we never hit nobody in cities we lived in…but c'mon, split five ways I'd end up walkin' away with two thousand dollars…I didn't take the drugs though cuz I knew I'd just wanna do 'em and I had to try and keep my shit straight when I was on the streets…too much bad shit can happen if you get caught slippin'…"

"What would you do with the money?"

Shruggin' his broad shoulders, he stared down at the floor and mumbled, "I don't know…I'd get a motel room for a couple days…take a shower…eat good food…buy shoes that fit. That was one of the things that sucked most 'bout bein' homeless when I was a kid…I kept growin' outta my clothes and shoes…my feet used to always hurt…"

Grabbing my own foot, I rubbed my sore toes and sighed, "Yeah, I know what you mean. These prison shoes are killing my feet. I mean, I don't mind a little pain for the sake of fashion but these dollar store tennis shoes just suck…"

.

.

.

"Angel was…just gorgeous. He was…a sassy little fucker…but he…I don't know, he was different. Some days he'd be all level headed, ya know…like he'd talk about movin' to California and becomin' a school teacher cuz he wanted to help kids like us…but then other times he'd be like…so hyper, bouncin' around talkin' 'bout goin' to California and becomin' a big star…sometimes he was just so quiet it'd drive me crazy thinkin' he was mad at me and other times he'd talk 'bout a hundred miles a minute…I tried, like, talkin' to him when he was down but he just…I don't know, he just wouldn't talk to me about anything that was botherin' him…I shoulda tried harder…maybe he'd still be here if I did…"

"You loved him…"

My heart ached all over again as he talked about the boy who had been brave enough to kiss him first. I wasn't jealous…just really sad for them both.

His eyes were glassy as he looked down to his mattress, picking at the loose threads, "Yeah…but it was…I don't know…we were just…like, best friends really…I ain't ever had a friend like him…I know he loved me…he had the balls to tell me even though I weren't never brave enough to say it back…but it was like he knew we wasn't gonna end up together. I had dumb little fantasies of runnin' off with him to California…but he never mentioned a future with me…I think maybe…he just needed somebody and I wasn't always there…I don't wanna make that same mistake again…next time I love somebody, I wanna be there, ya know…all the time, I just wanna…be around when they need me…"

I whispered, "You were there when I needed you…since the moment I got here you've been there every time I've needed you…"

His eyes raised to mine, his cheeks flushing as he sighed, "Yeah but I…I been kind of a dick to ya…some of it's been for show but if I'm bein' honest, some of it's just cuz you keep pissin' me off…"

Pouting just a little, I looked up at him and mumbled, "Why? Is it because I remind you of him?"

He had said earlier that he was kind of pissed at Angel for taking his life…

Now his cheeks turned red and those lovely dimples on display as he looked down again, "You're kinda built like him…sassy and bull headed like he was too…but you're…real different…more open…I mean, you just sat there and spilled your whole life story to me…that's something Angel woulda never done…and you're…you're gorgeous too…but damn, Princess, you got an ass on you like nothin' I ever seen…is that why you got locked up? Cuz I swear that ass has gotta be illegal in twenty states…"

With a few simple words, I felt the ache go away and the confidence return as I rolled over on my stomach, my feet crossing in the air as I pushed my ass up a little and snuggled into my pillow with a grin and a giggle, "Oh? You like?"

Wagging my ass in the air, I suddenly became very warm when he groaned, biting his bottom lip and rubbing his thick, swollen cock through those thin orange pants, "You're a fuckin' tease…"

Be brave, Brady…be fucking brave…

Pulling myself up, I bite my lip, slowly walking over to his bed, my cheeks turning red and his eyes heavy and lidded. Then I crawled on top of him, straddling those strong hips as I whispered, "I'm really not…and I still wanna kiss you…"

His hands reached up, gripping my hips deliciously hard as he groaned, "Fuck…this is your one fuckin' warnin,' Brady…you're 'bout two seconds away from gettin' a whole lot more than a fuckin' kiss…I ain't been with nobody since I got locked up…I'm warnin' you now it ain't gonna be all sweet and soft…it's gonna be rough and dirty and probably over way too fuckin' soon…"

I didn't care how it was just as long as it happened for real…

His dick was already rock hard against mine, the sticky tip leaking through those thin pants and soaking through…I ached to reach down and just slurp it into my mouth but I figured that it wouldn't be proper to have his dick in my mouth before having his tongue in it…I mean, I'm not a slut or anything…

So I slid my hands along the soft, scarred skin of his gloriously muscular chest and smiled, "That's okay, Brandon…we've got nothing but time…"

Long, strong fingers dug into my ass, keeping me from moving so I laid down on his stomach, our dicks pressed together through our pants as I inched my way closer to those pale, pink lips.

Right before our mouths connected, he let out a small gasp and I took the opportunity to nibble on his bottom lip.

Then he groaned as his hands came to my face, holding me in place as he raised up and shoved his tongue down my throat.

A million chills ran through my body as I held onto big, strong shoulders while he moaned and sighed into my mouth. The scruff above his lip and on his chin tickled and scraped my face so softly that my body just erupted into goose bumps.

I lost my breath as I was suddenly swept up and laid down on my back against the hard mattress. Holding on for dear life to those broad shoulders, I dug my fingers in as he shoved his hips into me; his thighs slamming into my ass as his cock pushed against my own.

His mouth was ravenous and his hands were everywhere…sliding over my arms and along my stomach, then around to my hips and back and then his fingers hooking into my pants and underwear along my hips, dragging them down.

Breaking the thorough mouth fucking he was giving me, he raised to his knees, pulling my clothes all the way off then dropping them to the ground.

His beautiful chest is heaving and this close I can see the beautiful scars of his villainous past worn like impending badges as he transformed into the superhero….

Okay, maybe he'd never be Captain America but I bet he can outfuck Superman…

And I didn't care if he was a superhero, he just had to be good to me.

Pale blue lidded eyes were looking into my chocolate ones as I watched his body trembling to get our clothes off fast enough. Shaggy blonde hair hung down around his face as he shoved his own pants down to his knees before coarse hands were on my thighs yanking me roughly to him, my ass slamming against his thighs.

My dick bounced against my stomach as my chest heaved in anticipation as he hovered over me. One hand against the mattress by my head, the other wrapped around his dick, I felt him pushing against my ass as his mouth took mine again.

But frantically, I broke the kiss and rasped out, "Wait! You have to prepare me first! And we need lube or something…shit…"

Where the fuck is Carlisle when you really need him?! Brandon needed an anal prep talk stat!

Raising his face, his blue eyes were wide and cheeks red from the exertion to stop as he groaned, "Shit, really? Why?"

Gripping his big shoulders, I relish the feel of his weight on me, even if I know he's holding some of it off. And his unbelievably warm body slick with a slight sheen of sweat kept the drafty cell from giving me chills…

I was still getting chills of course, but it had nothing to do with the cold cell but with the heated skin and hot breath completely consuming me…I couldn't wait to have him inside of me…

His hair was tickling my cheek and I took the opportunity to push both of my hands into the soft, long locks and drag them back away from his handsome face as I smiled, "Um…because it will really hurt me if you don't…it's um, not like being with a girl…have you ever…I mean, I know you've been with women but did you and Angel ever…"

Trailing off, I bite my lip as his eyes go even wider. Shaking his head, his whole face is red as he mumbles, "Uh…no…we only really made out a little…but I don't wanna hurt you so what do I gotta do?"

Letting out a breath, I'm thankful he doesn't just say 'fuck it' and do it anyway because there would be no way I could fight him off. And I know that right now, he wants to fuck me so bad he's shaking but he's willing to hold himself back to make it good for me too…

He may be bad but sometimes he can be incredibly good.

Instead of giving a cold, uncomfortable clinical explanation l grabbed his hand that was playing with my side and brought it to my lips. Then I slipped his first two fingers into my mouth, sucking and sighing as his eyelids drooped at the sight. Groaning very softly, he began rolling his hips against mine while I sucked on his fingers, getting them good and wet. His cock was so hard and still leaking, the hot smooth skin of the shaft smearing it across my pelvic bone as he rubbed back and forth.

Once his fingers were dripping, I pulled them out and pushed his hand down between my legs as I whispered, "Just stretch me out…um, slow and easy if you wouldn't mind…I've only done this once…"

His eyes were staring into mine, barely visible in the dim light and so lidded I could barely see the blue peeking out as I felt the tip of his finger at my hole, pushing gently inside me. I groaned at the sensation of that long, rough finger working it's way inside of me as I arched my back and pushed down to get even more.

Taking advantage of my craned neck, his mouth was on it, sucking and biting then licking the sensitive skin as he rasped out, "Tell me if you need me to slow down…I promise I'll try…"

His warm breath coming out in hard rasps against my overheated skin caused me to shudder right as he curled his finger and brushed over the soft gland of my prostate.

With a pitiful moan, I grip his back, my fingers skidding along damp sticky skin just trying to hang on as I whimper, "More…fuck, please, Brandon…"

He's absolutely devouring my neck and shoulder but I was way too gone to care because then a second big, rough finger was pushing inside of me. It burned for a moment before the heat began intensifying, coursing through my body like morphine.

My limbs were already heavy and my hair damp with sweat when both fingers began rubbing that sweet gland furiously as I arched up into him and gasped, "If you don't stop, I'm gonna cum…"

With a breathless chuckle, his stomach muscles contracted against my too sensitive cock as it twitched and throbbed, the precum stickying up his already moist skin.

"Just 'member what I said 'bout this bein' dirty and go ahead and cum for me, baby…"

That raspy whisper and pet name gave me goosebumps but when his rough palm wrapped around my wonderfully aching cock and worked over the loose skin, pulling it tight while his fingers ravished my sweet spot, I was just done for.

It feels like my body just explodes as I push into his hand with a sob, steadily rasping out curse words as I begin cumming, hot and hard in his fist. My ass contracting around those big fingers just intensifies it as I cry out nonsensical half words and sounds while he watches the creamy thick liquid fill his hand with a look of pride and amazement at what he just did.

The tiny cell is spinning and I gasp, my body shuddering as I'm being yanked again. He urges my legs around him as his cum filled hand wraps around his gorgeous, thick cock, slicking it up before rubbing across my sensitive hole and pushing his creamy fingers inside before slipping back out. My back arches again as I grip the dirty mattress underneath me, just trying to push his fingers back inside but luckily, I'm met with sticky, blunt head of his dick.

It's pushing inside as I open up and take him, my body gripping him tight and pulling him as the burn causes me to shake and tremble.

With one strong push of his hips, he's fully inside of me and I've never felt so fucking complete in my whole life.

I don't have very long for my thoughts to wander though because his hands are covering mine, our fingers clasping against the mattress as he pulls his dick out until nothing but the plump head remains in me.

But then he's plunging back inside of me with a growl, his balls smacking my ass and the bed rattling and squeaking furiously as he pounds himself into me.

My mouth opens but no sound comes out as my eyes clamp shut; my back arches, instinctively trying to pull him back in every time he yanks his hips away from mine.

I'm on fire and the damp cell air feels incredible against the exposed parts of my skin, keeping me from over heating as he fucks me hard on that tiny, unstable little bed.

We're not being loud, our voices contained to breathless grunts and soft moans but our bodies are beating against one another, our wet skin smacking as he fucks me like a mad man. The bed creaking and moaning beneath us is just as loud and I know that everyone within a five cell radius knows what we're doing in here.

And sweet baby Jehosefat, I really don't care because my toes are curling and my cock is throbbing, having never really softened after he made me cum the first time. He groans loudly, muffling the sound by burying his face into the mattress. One of his hands let go of mine as he shudders and reaches out, placing it flat against the concrete wall while his fingers try to grip the rough surface but only skid along pitifully.

He's cumming…his breath is coming out in short, hard spurts that remind me of a bull and I can feel the sudden burst of heat as his cock pulses inside of me. His hips are jerking erratically until they eventually slow to short, soft strokes.

Lifting his head, his blue eyes find mine as I'm graced with a flushed dimpled grin and a raspy whisper, "Did I…do okay? Ya know, does it feel good?"

I find myself chuckling breathlessly as I squirm against his still semi-hard cock inside of me, "You feel wonderful…I mean, I almost came again just from you fucking me…"

Smirking, he raises up on his knees, his glorious body stretched taut, he watches himself move slowly in and out of me as he moans softly, "Well, Princess, we ain't got nothin' but time…I bet I can get at least two more from ya 'fore my knees give out or we both die of heart attacks…you in?"

Way too deep…

Arching my back to draw him in deeper, I groan and mumble, "Fuck yeah…" before I'm being pulled up onto his lap, my knees clenching his thighs as his hands grip my ass. And then I'm between two walls…my back against the cold, rough concrete and my front against the warm, solid, sweaty one that's pinning me.

The coarse surface of the wall is scratching my back and ass as he drills me hard into it but then I'm cumming hard between our stomachs, adding to the delicious warm stickiness of our love making and still…all I can think of is…

More…

.

.

.

Several hours and blinding orgasms later, we're lying naked and curled up on his bed, me lying on top of him, my soft cock spent as it sticks to his thigh.

The cool draft feels good but my body is so deliciously sore that the very thought of moving sounds like torture.

His eyes are closed but he still wears a lazy, relaxed smile. Our bodies are both like dead weight but he's managed to wrap an arm around me, cupping my ass like it's his most prized possession.

He looks completely happy and satisfied, the tension finally gone from his face as I raise a shaky, exhausted arm so that my fingers can brush the dirty blonde hair behind his ear.

Blue eyes open and his smile widens until those beautiful dimples appear.

"Hey, I thought you was sleepin…"

Smiling back, I run my fingers against his stubbly cheek and sigh, "Nah…just so relaxed…my bones are like mush…"

Letting out a long, deep breath, he smiles lazily again, "Yeah…"

But then a blinding light hits my eyes as I hear the snicker of an asshole guard, "Aww well isn't that real fuckin' cute…"

He's shining a flashlight into our cell as Brandon moves quickly, grabbing the thin sheet and yanking it up over me as I bury my face into his chest. My fingers are digging into his sides as my little safe bubble pops and I'm suddenly terrified again.

Peeking up at Brandon's face, the light shone on narrowed eyes and a menacing scowl but he didn't say a word as he stared the guard down.

I was hoping that the guard would just go away but instead he chuckled, "Can't say that I blame ya though, that boy's got an ass that'd make a blind man see…you could make a decent penny on it if ya ever wanna share, I know them big Aaryan boys would love a piece of that dark meat, hell, I might even take a turn…"

Brandon's whole body was rigid and his muscles twitching as he started to move out from underneath me. I protested and held on but he shook his head and pushed me gently off of him while he stood.

He was a beast, the small cell only accentuating his massive size as he stood in all his naked glory.

His muscles were straining and his chest all puffed up; his thick, flaccid cock a thing of beauty as it hung down heavy between his thighs.

Pushing his long, damp hair back, his chiseled arms flexed and I had to catch my breath.

Then he took a step forward, the guard shuffling two steps backwards, apparently worried that the massive, steel bars wouldn't be protection enough from the monster inside.

When Brandon saw this, he smirked, the dimple in his left cheek showing as he bent over to grab his pants and chuckled, "It's good that ya step back…fear's a good thang…might keep ya breathin'…"

Yanking up his pants, he walked up to the bars as the guard continued to retreat. Leaning against them, his big hands wrapped around the steel poles, he growled low and menacing, "But that cocky ass mouth might get you killed, boy…don't forget where the fuck you are and who you're fuckin' talkin' to cuz you and me both know that if I wanna get my hands on you, ain't no fuckin' cage gonna stop me…"

The young guard was visibly shaken as he pulled out his baton, his knuckles turning white from gripping it so tight as his voice trembled, "Back up three steps and put your hands on the back of your head…"

Brandon just sneered a sadistic smile as he did what he said, standing in the middle of our cell with his arms flexed as he held the back of his head.

Then he chuckled humorlessly, "Go ahead, youngster…open up the door and come on in…"

My heart was racing and I quickly reached down to the floor, grabbing my pants and shimmying then on underneath the sheet.

The guard was fidgeting with his keys as I jumped to my feet and stood between them. With my hands on Brandon's chest, I could feel his heart racing underneath the false exterior of calm as he breathed in and out with slow, deep breaths.

But he didn't even seem to register my touch as he glared right through me to the other side of those bars, just daring the piggy to come into his territory.

I knew that if he opened that door, Brandon was going to do something really, really bad to that man and I needed to keep that from happening.

In a plea of desperation, I pressed myself against him, placing a soft kiss over that erratic heart as I whispered, "Please don't do anything, Brandon…please, it's not worth it…"

His jaw grinded as he gritted his teeth and dropped his eyes to mine. The look of pure hate slowly faded until the anger was ceasing and only sadness remained.

"Yeah, that's right, listen to your bitch, Whitlock."

I swear to Gandhi I wanna kick that guy in the nuts…

Brandon's eyes snapped up again and I turned just in time to see another guard walk up. Her auburn hair was up in a ponytail but she was somewhat older as she spat out something that sounded an awful lot like cursing.

Then she rolled her eyes and sighed, "Who do you think you're calling a bitch? Ay, coglione…"

The mountain in front of me let out a breath and eased his shoulders as the female guard put her hands on her hips and scolded the young cop, "If you want respect, give it. How would you like to be fucked with in the middle of night while you're in bed? Now let's leave these young men to their beds and go do our rounds."

The young guard huffed but turned and stomped away without another word. Brandon's arms completely relaxed now as he wrapped them around my waist. He gave a quick nod to the woman as she gave him a little nod back, with a soft smile and wink, she tossed something threw the bars.

Brandon caught it in mid air and chuckled when he opened his big hands to see a bag of sour patch kids.

Once she walked away, I let out a breath and looked up at him, "Who was she?"

He shrugged, tearing open the bag with his teeth, "She's the commanding guard on Cell Block C…she's actually one of the few good ones we got in here…tough but fair…we all just call her Big Mama C cuz she kinda mothers us as much as she can…"

Grabbing my hand, he turns it palm up and shakes out some of the little candy children and grins, "You like these?"

Popping them into my mouth, the gooey sugary goodness makes my eyes close as I hum, "Mmm…I love inappropriate candy…"

Chuckling, he pulled me down onto his bed, settling me in between his legs as he sat back against the wall.

My bare back rested against his bare chest and I was so happy to be cradled into the strength and heat again.

Far long after the candy wrapper lay in the little bag of trash tied underneath the sink, we just sat there, not speaking but just relishing in the feeling of this…thing we had…

But eventually I turned my eyes up to his. They were focused on the freckles along my shoulders as his rough fingertips brushed gently across them. I couldn't help the smile that overcame my face but I was rewarded with a dimpled one looking back as he whispered, "When I was a kid, I use to sneak back behind the old abandoned steel mill to get high. It was the only place I could go without my little cousins followin' me cuz they couldn't get over the fence. Sometimes I just needed to get away for a minute to…just fuckin' think and shit…my life was always such a fuckin' mess, ya know…always just pissed off and worried and just…fuckin' overwhelmed by it all…anyway, I used to get stoned and lay up on the walls watchin' the sunset…the skies would be this rich, deep red and it would just kinda melt into the soft brown of the dirt fields…I always felt kinda hollow…kinda cold inside…but I couldn't look at that sky and not feel warm…"

I shuddered as his lips replaced his fingers on my shoulder, brushing gently across them, whispering, "Your skin's the warmest color I ever seen…and this little cluster of freckles right here…they remind me of the all the purdy little stars tryin' to shine through all that color…"

My eyes closed and I craned my neck, giving him better access to that skin that kept him warm.

Brandon was unlike anything I ever expected…raw and tainted…strong but damaged, not broken because he was also deep and fascinating…layered and textured…he was heartbreakingly real.

All I wanted to do was steal him away and take him somewhere warm…somewhere safe.

All I wanted was for this to be real and not some crazy, product of my overactive imagination.

But this didn't feel like fantasy…the weight of his heavy arms around my body, the scrape of his scruffy chin and lip along my sensitive shoulder, the heavy thump against my back of his heart beating conspicuously fast…

This had to be real…and I never, ever wanted to lose it…

"Hey Brandon?"

"Hmm?"

"What did you mean earlier when you said I kept pissing you off? What was I doing?"

"Hmm…nothin'…I was pissed cuz I didn't wanna…didn't wanna fall for you, Brady…"

"Didn't? Or don't?"

"Didn't…but it's a little too late for that now, I guess…what's done is done…"

Perhaps not the most romantic way for someone to tell you they've fallen for you but that didn't stop my heart from soaring as I giggled and turned. Taking his mouth to mine, I pushed him to his back on the bed and crawled on top of the big mountain of a man. I planned on kissing my way down that arduous valley of muscle until I reached the holy messiah of cock between his thick, luscious thighs.

My baby totally deserved a blow job.

.

.

.

"Hey, Princess, wake up…the alarm's bout to go off…"

Rubbing my eyes, I groan and peel my sticky face from his warm chest. My body is deliciously sore but without my glasses, my eyes are unfocused.

But then I'm blinded by bright, fluorescent light as a loud buzzer reverberates the tiny room and I'm clamping my hands over my ears.

I hear a chuckle and when the buzzer stops, I pull my hands from my ears to be met with my glasses being placed in my palm. Slipping them on, I look up, sleepy eyed at the beautiful man underneath me and grin, "Good morning, babe."

"Mornin,' sunshine…"

He's the one like sunshine…powerful and golden and fiercely hot…

We go about the morning routine, brushing our teeth, getting dressed, doing a quick head count…and then it's time for breakfast and I find myself actually smiling as we walk towards our table, barely able to look away from each other.

Only, when I do finally glance away, I realize that none of the lifers are already sitting like they should be and when I turn my eyes up to Brandon's, it appears he just noticed the same thing.

But everything happened so fast and it was too late to do anything as I was being shoved down to the ground, large arms of one of the La Raiza were wrapped around my neck, not choking but keeping me from moving or crying out as I watched a whole group of men attack Brandon.

Where the hell are the lifers? Why are they letting this happen?

The tears ripped from my eyes as I saw Brandon fight back, impressively managing to take down several as he only half fought…because his eyes were frantically searching through the crowd, more focused on finding what had been taken from him than of the fight itself.

Then a hand wrapped over my mouth and I was being dragged backwards towards the kitchen as a loud buzzer went off and the guards shouted, "On the ground or we will shoot!"

Everyone started dropping as I tried to scream but we were back out of sight underneath the high steel awning where the guards walked above us.

Brandon still searched; his beautiful face a bloody mess as his eyes scanned the room finally landing on mine…and then he was running towards me…the guards shouting…hot tears burning my face as I tried to shake my head no…for him to stop…kicking and dragging my feet along the concrete floor, just trying to break free so I could get to him before it was too late…

"3...2..."

There were two guards rushing toward him as they began counting out from above us.

Drop! Fuck, please drop, Brandon!

"1..."

A shot rang out just as he went down, two guards already on top of him as I screamed against the hand over my mouth, my body still kicking and fighting…my mind completely shut down as I'm dragged into the kitchen. There's a kettle of water boiling on the stove and a big, ugly skinhead next to it with a grin.

My eyes go wide as the Mexican chuckles, "Here he is…we kept up our part of the deal, now you gonna keep up with yours, 'ese?"

The Aaryan smiled, his ugly yellow teeth glimmering from the shine off his head as he handed the Mexican a tiny piece of paper. He opened it and smiled, "Good workin' with you, ya white boy piece of shit…"

Shoving me towards him, I didn't have time to even scream before a big, white hand was over my mouth.

But I couldn't even find it in me to care as my body went limp, heavy with the weight of not knowing where Brandon was…if he was okay…was he even still alive…

As I was being shoved down a hallway and into a storage room, more Aarayns showed up, smacking and pinching and pulling my hair as they drug my dead weight.

The door shut behind them as I was being pushed down over two big stacks of bagged flour.

My thoughts drifted to my friends…to Brandon…and to a future I'd never have with a man I didn't even know was still breathing…

Closing my eyes, I felt a hand at the back of my pants and heard the sadistic laughter of them as they gathered around…

But then the hand was gone and all I heard were a few gasps, some muffled gargling, and the thud of bodies hitting the floor.

Opening my eyes, I turn around to see the lifers standing there, bloody shivs in their hands and smiles on their faces as the Aayrans lay lifeless on the blood soaked floor.

Cliff and two others, both young blonde boys with eyes so blue I would swear they could be Brandon's brothers…or at the very least, his cousins, step over the bodies to me, grabbing hold and raising me to my feet as Cliff mumbles, "Gotta get you to the kitchen so she can get ya down to the Doc…"

My face was sore from the rough hands and smacks but I was so grateful that it wasn't a million times worse.

But still, I mumbled, "Where's Brandon? Is he okay? Did they…"

Breaking into sobs again, the three men sighed and patted my hair, stroked my back as Cliff whispered, "Calm down, Cocoa…he's alright…they got him down in solitary…he'll probly be there a few days but he's just a little worse for the wear…"

"B-but I s-saw them sh-shoot him…"

"Rubber bullets, Cocoa…he's just fine…"

A wave of unbelievable relief and thankfulness washed over me as I sobbed some more.

Once we got to the kitchen, they sat me down on a stool and Cliff whispered, "We gotta disappear, the guards'll be here in a minute…"

Through tears, I watched them slowly and quietly scurry away, dropping their shivs in the boiling water, the hardened plastic instruments of death melted as they disappeared.

Moments later, the woman they call Big Mama C was by my side, asking me if I was okay before I finally passed out cold.

.

.

.

"Time to wake up, son…come on, there you go…"

The voice was fuzzy and gargled but very comforting as I slowly opened my eyes. I saw hazel ones staring back from a man in a white coat. Once my eyes adjusted to the light, I could see the name tag that only said "Doc,' pinned to his coat.

"There you are! It's good to have you back!"

"W-where am I?"

"The prison infirmary, son. You've been here since this morning. Passed out clean after some crazy hood stuff happened in the cafeteria…"

I couldn't help but chuckle as he passed me a cup of water with a straw. Taking a few sips, I clear my throat and rasp out, "Where's Brandon Whitlock? Have you seen him today?"

Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head, "Yes, I saw him…just heartbreaking…physically he'll be fine, a few more scars but nothing lasting or permanent…mentally however, I'm rather concerned…he won't eat, won't speak…in solitary he was just hurting himself in fits of rage, pounding the concrete walls and steel beds…they had to handcuff his hands behind his back…last I saw him, he was just sitting in the corner of the room with his eyes wide open but I highly doubt he was seeing anything but memories…"

My chest ached, it felt hollow and cold as I sputtered, "I n-need to g-get to him, Doc, p-please…"

His hand was on my shoulder as he whispered, "Shh, calm down now, son, before you work yourself up into a tizzy. You can't do anything if you pass out for twelve hours again. I promise I will try to get you some sort of contact with the Whitlock boy but you must be patient. And speaking of patients, I've got good news and bad news about your condition…"

I took a deep breath as he sighed, "The bad news is, you're going to have a small scar above your left eye…the good news is, there isn't any tears or rips in your anal cavity…"

Choking on the water I was sipping at that precise moment, I coughed out, "What?!"

Flipping through his chart, he looked all business as he spoke, "According to this, one of the guards found you about twenty feet from five murdered inmates. Your clothes were ripped, you were roughed up…The official statement is that they gang raped you, then you turned on them, killing them all in self defense before crawling away…"

Furrowing my brows, I looked up at him, "That's really the official statement? That I killed five ginormous Aaryans with my bare hands?"

He shrugged, putting down the chart and smiling at me, "This is prison, they were skinheads…we're not going to put too much into the investigation…anyway, I'm rather curious why they actually chose to engage in proper anal preparation…not to be so crass, but it would be an uplifting trend amongst the prisoners…"

This man was crazy.

"I uh…I wasn't raped…"

"But I found semen in your…"

"Why were you looking in my…"

"Standard prison policy…STD's do tend to run rampant here…"

Letting out a breath, I sigh and just shake my head, "Well, like I said, I wasn't raped…"

"So, you didn't kill those men? Then who…"

No way was I gonna let the Lifers go down for this…

"Oh, no I killed them…I have totally awesome ninja like skills but I killed them before they actually did the deed…"

.

.

.

What seemed like hours later, I was back in my cell, having signed an official statement stating that I was within my rights to react in self defense that led to the demise of four inmates.

Normally, time would have been added to my sentence but I was also informed that a witness had stepped up against the prosecution of my original case and it was deemed that I was actually innocent and wrongfully convicted.

I would be released in the morning once all the paperwork was processed.

But I didn't wanna go.

Not without him.

Not without at least talking to him and seeing that he's okay with my own eyes and telling him that I'd wait forever for him to leave this place…to come start a life with me on the outside.

Leaning my forehead against the cold, steel bars, I grip them tightly and growl lowly, "Fuck…"

"Whoa there, Cocoa, you kiss your mama with that mouth?"

I heard Cliff's voice somewhere to the left as I spat, "Fuck my mom! Fuck everything! Fuck this god damn place and these mother fucking, god damn, cock sucking, piece of shit bars!"

With a growl, I yanked and kicked at that stupid bars till I felt like my arms were out of socket.

From my right, I heard one of the other lifers, the one about my age with honey curls, chuckle, "We all got mama issues, man…hold your shit together, you're gettin' out in the mornin'…"

An exasperated groan left my throat as I sighed, "I don't wanna leave him…"

"You love him, huh?'

Sniffling, I mumble, "Yeah…I do…"

"Then you'll always be with him, even if you ain't right by his side…we'll let him know…"

Pressing my forehead against the bars, I closed my eyes and whispered, "You will?"

Cliff spoke again, "Sure thing, Cocoa…now pick up that stick J's poking through your cell…"

Looking to my left, I see the faint outline of a skinny stick poking through the front bars of my cell, from the one next to me. Taking it, I see a small mirror attached to the other end.

"Hold it out and up, so you can see us…"

Doing what he said, I adjusted the stick until I saw Cliff's face through his cell bars, the dim light from across the walkway lighting it up.

"You did real good today, Brady. You didn't ratt us out and we got the La Raiza and the Aayrans off our backs…"

I furrowed my brows again as I squinted at him in the dim light, "What are you talking about? The La Raiza started the whole thing! The Mexicans and the Aaryans were working together! They're still going to go after Brandon…"

He chuckled and shook his head, "No…the La Raiza was workin' with us. See, I got wind this mornin' that the Aaryans was gonna start a riot and one of them was gonna get ya away from my boy so they could kill ya…so I talked to the Mexicans, told 'em to go to the Aaryans and offer to start the riot and snatch you up…then hand deliver you themselves, that way the Mexicans got solitary and the Aayrans weren't incriminated which meant they could all drag you back to the storage closet and really fuck you up good cuz trust me, they hate Brandon with a passion so they all wanted a go at you…"

"But why would the La Raiza do that? Risk their own guys?"

"Well, that little piece of paper you seen the Aayran give Fernando had the name of the crooked guard that's been sneakin' in all the drugs for the Aayrans…they was gonna cut 'em in on a piece of the action in exchange for you…but really, they woulda killed the La Raiza once you were gone…"

My head was swimming as I looked at him, "It still doesn't make sense that the La Raiza would suddenly make a deal with you…they wanted me dead to hurt Brandon because they wanted to trick me out but he claimed my ass first…"

Cliff sighed, "Fernando's cell is next to the other Jay's on your right side…he heard ya'll talkin' last night…heard 'bout Angel…decided that Brandon deserved a little happiness so he called off the warrant on your ass…everybody heard 'bout the little Mexican kid that hung himself and Juan, he's on the second tier, his best friend's brother is friends with Hector who was Angel's uncle…so outta respect for the family and shit, they're lettin' this one go…'sides, with the Aaryans gone, they can take that drug connection with the guard and run shit…it's a win-win for everybody…well, 'cept the Aayrans I guess…"

Groaning, I gave him my best bitch look through the little mirror, "And didn't you think sharing this information with Brandon before hand would be a good idea? He's going crazy right now!"

He just chuckled, "Well, I tried all mornin' but he wouldn't stop makin' googly eyes at you long enough to pay attention…"

Dropping my eyes and my shoulders, I sighed, "God, I wish I could just tell him I'm okay…"

"Cheer up, Cocoa…hey, I got an idea! You got a bunch of mail today, I seen it opened on your bed…got some pictures…pass 'em around, Cocoa…share the love, man, we ain't got no family to send us pictures…"

With a heavy sigh, I pulled away from the bars and grabbed the pictures off my bed. I assumed the guards went through my mail because when I got here, it was all scattered out on my bed.

I glanced at the one of Edward playing the piano and passed it to the right, then I grabbed the one of Alice in her Snow White costume two Halloween's ago and passed it to the left.

Sitting on my bed, with my knees pulled up, I heard a sigh from the cell to my right…

"Fuck, this little red head is…beautiful…what's his name?"

"Um, Edward…"

In a soft sigh, he whispered, "I'm gonna call him Eddie…in another world, he'd be my baby boy…"

And to my left I heard, "What's Snow White's name?"

"Alice."

"Mmm…in another life, this would be wifey…"

Closing my eyes, I buried my face in my knees and prayed for just five more minutes with my Daddy.

.

.

.

The sound of my cell being opened, the clang and rattle of the keys, caused me to jump as my sleepy wide eyes focused in on a guard.

Jumping to my feet, I threw my arms around her and sighed, "Mama C!"

She hugged me back quickly and shh'd me as she whispered, "I know you're leaving in the morning but Brandon is just sick without you. I've got my watch coming up in solitary but I only have a fifteen minute window before another guard shows up so I'm going to take you over, let him see you, then get you back, okay? Come now, and be quiet…"

I wanted to squeal but bit my lip as I followed her quickly through the dark hallways until we reached a long, gray corridor with heavy, steel doors with small thick clear windows and slots placed down low to do their cuffs and pass food.

Stopping in front of one of them, she crouched down and pushed open the little slot so that I could see in and speak.

It was dark but my eyes focused quickly on the worn blue eyes in the corner, his arms still bound behind his back as he stared at nothing. His face was bruised and scraped but he was still the most beautiful man I had ever seen.

My voice squeaked out into the darkened room, "Brandon!"

His eyes snapped to mine as he squinted and rasped out, "Brady? Is 'at you?"

Tears sprang from my eyes as I smiled, "Yes, it's me, I'm here, I'm okay…"

Shuffling across the floor, his eyes finally looked through the little slot, all red and puffy as his weakened voice broke, "It's really you…you're…oh fuck, Brady, I thought you were…"

Shaking my head, I sniffle as I reach my hand through the tiny opening, cradling his scruffy cheek as he leans into it, placing kisses all over the palm as I whisper, "No, it's okay…I was never hurt, everything's all taken care of…"

He rasped out, "Cliff and the boys?"

I nodded and gave him a watery smile as I sniffled, "Yeah, they'll explain everything when you get out…but Brandon, I'm…I'm leaving in the morning…they're letting me out…"

I watched his face just break as he looked down, nodding his head and sniffling in a gravelly voice, "That's good, Princess…you don't belong here…"

My heart broke as I cried out, "I belong with you…"

Raising his red streaked baby blues to mine, he shook his head and whispered, "No…you don't…not in here…"

No way was he pulling this shit on me…not now…

"Now you listen here, Brandon Whitlock, you're gonna be good from now on and in six months, when you walk out of this place a free man…I'm gonna be waiting for you, ready to take you home and start our life together…"

But he was crumbling away as he just shook his head and mumbled no…

"Brandon, this is Big Mama C…stand up and place your hands by the opening…I'm taking off those cuffs…"

He sniffled but shuffled to his feet as she reached through with her key and unlocked the cuffs.

Then she fumbled with another set of keys, placing one in the door as she sighed down at me, "You've got five minutes, doll, so make it count…"

With that, the door groaned open and I couldn't get in fast enough.

Leaping into his arms, his wrapped around mine as he held onto me so tight I couldn't breathe…but I was gonna have to get used to that because breathing without him would be difficult.

He was shaking as he sat down on the steel bed, not letting his grip ease as he mumbled against my shoulder, "Why does everyone I love, leave me?"

Tears burned my eyes as I grabbed his face, forcing him to look at me as I peppered his tear stained cheeks with kisses, "I'm not leaving…Cliff has my phone number…and my address…you will call me and write me…often…and we'll get through the next six months…we'll get through it together…and I'll be waiting for you when you get out…"

His rough, cracked, bleeding hands held my face as he trembled…his busted lip puffy and his red streaked eyes bruised purple and black.

"You still want me? I couldn't even keep ya safe…"

Through blubbery tears, I smiled and kissed those puffy lips, "Of course I want you, Brandon…I'll always want you…you're not Superman but you're real and so wonderfully flawed and you're all mine…I'll wait as long as it takes to hold you again but I'm always with you, baby…you'll never ever be alone again…"

His bruised lips took mine, the salty taste of tears and rusty tang of blood mixing in with his wonderfully unique masculine flavor.

I groaned into the kiss, locking my arms around his neck as we devoured one another…teeth clanking, moaning and gasping, nibbling and biting until the heavy clang of the door sounded again.

"I'm sorry, boys, we really must go…"

His fingers tightened around me as he shook his head and buried his face in my shoulder, whimpering 'no'.

Wiping my eyes against his shoulder I whispered, "It's okay, baby…it's gonna be okay…six months is nothing…you'll be in my arms again before you know it…"

He sounded pitiful as he sniffled, "Promise?"

Lifting my head, I cradled his cheeks and forced him to look at me again. Both of us watery, blubbering messes, I smiled through the tears and whispered, "I promise…"

"And you don't lie…"

A weak laugh left my throat as I tucked his dirty blonde hair behind his ear and smiled, "No, I don't…I'll see you soon, Brandon…"

Shuffling off his lap, I stand on shaky legs as he reluctantly comes with me, never letting go of my hand as I take the few small steps to the door.

Looking up at his sad face breaks my heart and I can't take much more as I spring to my toes, kissing his lips once more as I whisper, "Bye, Brandon…"

He grasps my cheek, kissing me hard before opening his teary blue eyes and whispering a shaky, "Bye, Brady…"

And then a cold chill rips through me as I'm pulled outside the door, hearing the thick walls click as the heavy locks slide shut.

There's a small window on the door, covered by short fat steel bars and thick glass. I look over my shoulder as Mama C drags me away, to see his beautiful sad face staring back at me.

My heart will stay here…on the inside with him while I prepare a home for us on the outside because I meant what I said…

I'd be waiting for him…

"So, Brady, I've just been dying to ask…how did you take on all those Aayrans by yourself?"

I'm still looking at miserable, sad eyes as I sighed at Mama C's question, "Well, I'm kind of like a ninja…"

.

.

.

"You're a total ninja, Princess…"

Opening my eyes to the sound of his raspy chuckle, I look around the room and whisper, "Where are you?"

"Turn over, babe…"

Groaning, I roll over in my soft bed and see his tired but happy blue eyes looking back. Reaching out my hand, I brush the soft scruff along his chin, wishing that I could feel it tickle my palm but I only feel the smooth, cool surface of the laptop screen.

"Did you just try to scratch my chin?"

Smiling, I stretch and nod, "Uh huh…what happened?"

I was still a little dazed as his scarred hand rose to the screen, sliding along the edge as he whispered, "We musta fallen asleep talkin' last night…I remember layin' down on the couch and puttin' my laptop on the coffee table so I could see ya…then I woke up to hear ya mumblin' that you're kinda like a ninja…"

My cheeks turned red but I didn't care because he was smiling, that big beautiful dimpled grin.

"Ah…okay, yeah…I had the craziest dream last night…I mean, I always have crazy dreams but this one was just…so real and I…"

In the background I heard his TV playing, the sounds of buzzers and clanging cell doors made me stop mid sentence as I asked, "Hey, what are you watching, Brandon?"

"Hmm? Oh, I was watchin' this Lock Up marathon…they was doin' one on Hunstville but I guess I dozed off 'fore it came on…why?"

Laying my head down on my pillow, I just chuckle as I shrug, "I don't know…do you think you would have still fallen for me if we met in prison…like if I got locked up, falsely convicted of…"

With a furrowed brow, he interrupted me, "Ain't no fuckin' way you're ever goin' anywhere near a prison, Brady…you don't belong there…"

Then he let out a deep sigh as he shook his head and grinned, "But yeah, I'd fall for ya…ya'd probably put me through hell and not even know it, with that sexy little ass in them stupid orange pants…"

With a warm smile, I pressed my fingertips against his on the glass, "Oh I'd totally rock those pants, baby…"

He chuckled, deep and low as he nodded, "Ain't no doubt in my mind, Princess…"

A/N: So yeah, that's what happens when the boys fall asleep on their computers while Brandon watches all night Lock Up marathons on the Discovery Channel…Happy Birthday, Maria! Hope it was worth the wait!