Author's Note: I know this line of story has been done before – but I couldn't help myself. It's long – there might be a little bit of delay between chapters because I gotta find time to type them. Some of the timing is off, and that's my fault, but I just can't find something interesting for them to do in that 5 hours before lights out.
Pair: Ryan/Miguel, mostly bickering Beecher/Keller
Rating: At least R
He found Miguel in an empty hallway, bloody and crying. Ryan could hear the others coming back from lunch. Without thinking about it he grabbed Miguel's arm and pulled him into an empty storage room. He pushed him lightly, letting him lean against the wall.
"You okay man?"
He nodded warily and when Ryan took a step towards him he quickly stumbled away, fear flashing in his eyes. Ryan frowned and stepped back, "Who did this to you?" For a moment, based on Alvarez's fearful reaction to him he thought that maybe it had been the Irish.
He looked up at him and then back at the floor, "The Latinos."
He couldn't help the look of surprise that crossed his face, "Fuck, I knew you weren't the boss anymore, but I didn't realize you dropped that much."
He didn't answer or look up, just continued to lean against the wall, his head hanging. Ryan scowled and then moved quickly into Alvarez's personal space, pushing him against the wall so that their bodies were flush against each other's. He grabbed his chin, forcing eye contact, "Listen, have a free piece of advice, you're not a boss anymore and you don't have the Latinos backing you up anymore, that means if you keep acting like a pussy you are going to get fucked over by people here."
There was fear and, more dangerously, desperation in his eyes. A combination that Ryan had seen in people before, like Beecher when he first got to Oz. He sneered, "Maybe even literally."
And then finally the anger, a snarl, "Fuck you O'Reily."
A return anger flared in Ryan and he grabbed Alvarez by the arm, twisting it securely behind his back and pressing him across a table, his other arm trapped between his body and the table. O'Reily used his free hand on the back of his neck, holding Alvarez's head down before using his knee to push his legs apart and then he waited.
He expected to get a struggle and rage from the other; he was just trying to get a response. What he didn't expect was for him to go limp in his grasp. "Miguel?"
A tear tinted voice, just this side of a sob, "If you're going to do it O'Reily, just fucking do it already." There were definitely tears in his voice now and a slight tremble began to take hold of his whole body.
It was the resignation that gave it away, he spoke, his voice slightly awed, "El Cid is fucking you." More statement than question, and definitely one Miguel didn't have to answer, the tears were answer enough. He spun him around quickly, seeing the other's tear streaked face and then just as quickly pulled the smaller man into a hug. The little bit of tenderness was too much and the stifled tears turned into desperate sobs.
Ryan held him tight, making soft soothing sounds. He was a little annoyed with his own reaction, but quickly attributed it to a natural response after taking care of Cyril for so long.
When he calmed down Ryan held him at arm's length and tried to get eye contact, but he steadily avoided his gaze. He finally resorted to grasping his chin again, forcing his head up. "He's fucking you and not protecting you?"
He answered bitterly, "Latinos don't have prags."
An idea formed in Ryan's head before he actually gave it permission to, and he felt a smile curve on his lips, ever the model Machiavellian. "Listen, I might be able to help you. I'm gonna leave, follow in a couple minutes. Once you're back at Em City come see me in my pod sometime before count. Got it?"
Miguel looked him in the eye, looked like he wanted to tell O'Reily to fuck off and almost did, but then he compliantly nodded, mumbling that he would be there.
Ryan smiled and nodded and then before anything else could happen was out the door on his way back to Em City.
By the time Alvarez got to his pod, Ryan had his pitch all worked out in his head, positive that he would get what he wanted. Miguel strutted in, acting every bit the boss he's wasn't, and shut the door behind him.
"All right O'Reily, I'm here. How can you help me?"
He smiled with the total confidence of a person that always got what he wanted. "You're gonna be my prag."
There was a stunned silence in which Miguel just stared at Ryan, a blank look on his face and then, "No fucking way."
His smile didn't falter, not like he wasn't expecting that. "You're already getting fucked, so what if it's a change in person, at least I would protect you."
He shook his head, "No, No! I can't, won't let that happen to me, to my reputation."
There was too much hesitation in his voice; he was considering it and Ryan's smile grew. "I can also get the Irish to protect your ass."
As Miguel thought it over, his emotions easy to read across his face, Ryan felt the urge to get antsy. He hadn't had his dick in anything since coming to Oz and lately had been thinking that a prag wouldn't be a bad way to go and there was a world of difference in prison, for all his talking of not being gay, of fucking and getting fucked. All this in mind he brought out his last bit of ammunition, "And its not like everyone doesn't already know you're getting fucked."
And yes, there was Alvarez's head popping up, eyes widening, almost comical. "What?"
Hook, line and sinker. "El Cid let it slip last council meeting, talked about how you screamed just like a girl he used to know when he was hilt deep in your ass."
'And that explains so much' Alvarez thought as he looked back at the last couple days and the looks he had been getting, he thought it was his imagination and suddenly the decision wasn't so hard. On one hand there was him getting the shit kicked out of him and having El Cid fuck him up the ass every night, or being protected by the Irish and the toughest mother fucking Mick to ever live, and well, getting fucked by that same one. And well fuck, like that's even a decision he thought as he looked at O'Reily and somewhat bitterly nodded.
"Good, I knew you would take my deal, you're not stupid Miguel. Now go talk to McManus about switching your pod." He looked down at the book he had then, dismissively, and listened to Alvarez stand there for a second and then turn, heading silently towards McManus's office.
The confrontation was quick and surprisingly painless. Miguel was halfway out the door before he realized the sympathy on Tim's face was because he was at the council meeting as well, heard what El Cid said about him. That's why he was so understanding about switching pods. Standing just outside Tim's office Miguel cursed as he felt himself blushing, the knowledge of what was about to happen nearly overwhelming him.