Chapter Three

A few days passed by. Brendan started to get settled in to prison life; although he would never quite get used to it. Ray didn't mention Stephen again; in fact he seemed indifferent to the situation, as though he was waiting for something. He was as friendly as ever to Brendan, perhaps more so. It made Brendan uneasy.

One warm day they were able to go outside for a while. Brendan kept his distance away from the other inmates. Ray was talking to a group of men, looking somewhat shifty. Probably bartering for cigarettes. Brendan sat on the top of the bench table, his hands together, wringing nervously which now seemed to be a habit of his. He didn't like being here. No one bothered him, really. Not when Ray was around. It wasn't that. It was that Brendan felt caged, he felt claustrophobic. He felt as though he couldn't take a deep breath.

When he used to strut around the village, he felt so free, so un-weighted. Everyone knew Brendan Brady, they didn't dare cross him. In here things were different. No one gave two shits about him. It didn't really bother him as such, it just felt…different. Like he was missing something he couldn't work out.

Brendan put his head in his hands, needing to block everything out for a while. After several moments he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. He slowly looked up and saw Ray looking at him in concern. He sat beside Brendan without waiting for an invitation. Brendan shuffled a little away from his close proximity; it didn't help his mood. He heard Ray sigh.

"Brendan, I wish you'd talk to me"

Brendan laughed shortly. "Ye? I barely know ye"

Ray looked ahead. "But I'm betting you don't even talk to the people who do know you. Am I right?"

Brendan said nothing.

"In a few days we'll be getting post from home. Do you expect anything?"

"No" Brendan said shortly.

"Not even from that sister of yours?"

"We didn't, ah, end things on the best of terms" Brendan murmured.

"Oh yeah? Why's that then?" Ray asked curiously, his head tilted to the side.

"None of ye damn business"

"Alright" Ray said pleasantly. "And what about this lad? You think he might write? Or come visit?"

Brendan turned his head sharply to the side. "He better fucking not come here. I won't have that"

Ray looked at Brendan intently for a moment. "Why does that bother you?"

"Would ye stop with the fucking questions" Brendan sprung off the bench table, pacing around the courtyard.

"Sorry" Ray said, still sounding perfectly at ease. "Why don't you come work out with us lot for a bit? Might release some of that stress you've got going on"

Brendan considered this for a moment. "Ye…alright" he eventually agreed.

"Great" Ray said, jumping off the bench table.

Brendan did some weight lifting to strengthen up his arms. Ray was using much heavier weights than him but he was clearly a regular with this kind of activity. Brendan was more of a whiskey guy, not a down-the-gym kind of fella; not like Noah. Brendan almost dropped his weight at the thought of that smug git.

"Something wrong?" Ray asked, his face scrunched up with the effort of his weight lifting. He had taken off his shirt to accommodate the heat. Sweat was dripping down his chest in rivulets. Brendan found himself momentarily distracted.

Ray looked at Brendan a bit more closely, placing his weight on the ground.

"I, uh, don't normally do this kind of thing" Brendan said lamely.

"Really? Your arms are great though" Ray said, gingerly touching where Brendan's muscle flexed.

"Well, I don't" Brendan mumbled awkwardly, putting his own weight down.

Ray withdrew his hand. "I'm gonna tell you a little story, Brendan" he announced, squatting down on the floor to begin some press ups.

Brendan sat crossed-legged beside him, cracking his knuckles.

"Yes, it's to do with that" Ray said, seemingly not struggling to talk whilst he was exercising.

Brendan looked at him blankly for a moment before Ray began his story.

"When I was about twenty-five, I came out of here after my first four year stint. I felt a bit, well, reckless. To suddenly have all that freedom… let's just say I went a bit mad. Drinking every night, sleeping all day, no job, no friends, no real quality of life really. Then I started going to gay bars, picking up blokes, having one night stands. All safe of course"

Brendan nodded.

"So anyway, I met this guy. Wee little fella he was, called Johnny. He was our kinda type you know? Scrawny, fair-haired, submissive" Ray sighed a little. "Anyway, I hooked up with him a few times, nothing serious. After a few weeks, I don't hear from him anymore. So I go round to his place, see what's going on. I knock on the door and this big bloke answers. You know me, I wasn't exactly intimidated. So I ask him straight out, where's Johnny? He just looks at me, grunts, and walks straight out the door. By this point I was pretty damn curious so I walk inside and there I find Johnny, beaten to a pulp, lying on the floor"

Brendan started to feel his hands shaking.

"I ran over to him, demanding to know what was going on. After a bit of coaxing he told me that guy who I'd just seen was his ex. Turns out he'd been beating him. Naturally I was livid. I mean, I barely knew this kid and yet I felt protective, ya know? So I tried to run after the guy but Johnny said no, that was the end of it now. I didn't really believe him but I dropped it, poor kid was a mess. I stayed with him that night but I had some important business to attend to the next day so I left him asleep in bed"

Brendan started to wonder where this story was heading.

"I came back that evening" Ray swallowed, sitting up now and looking at the ground. "There was an ambulance there… I tried to find out what had happened but I think I knew, really. Johnny had been…beaten to death. I only found out from a few of his close friends after that that Johnny had been involved with this other guy on and off for a year or so. He beat him a lot, but Johnny was scared, and he was lonely. He had tried to call things off for a while which was when he met me. But this guy came back… he must have been watching his place, seen me leave…" Ray trailed off, looking distressed.

"Why are ye telling me this?" Brendan asked quietly.

Ray looked at Brendan as though only just realising he was still there.

"What happened, with you and your lad?"

Brendan was incredulous. How could this guy possibly know what he and Stephen had been through?

"Something bad must have happened. You jump every time I mention him; you went mad at me for just looking at his picture"

"And what do ye automatically assume?" Brendan asked, baring his teeth.

"Nothing" Ray answered innocently, standing up. Brendan copied him.

"Why did you tell me that awful story then?" Brendan asked angrily.

"Because I was that guy once" Ray said calmly.

"Who, Johnny?"

"No, his boyfriend. Through my teens I was struggling so badly with what I was, I just lashed out all the time. I don't need to spell it out for you, do I?"

"What and ye just assume I'm the same?"

"Well, aren't you?"

Brendan remained silent, quietly seething.

"I'm not judging you, Brendan" Ray said, placing a hand on Brendan's arm.

Brendan shook him off angrily, his face reddening in rage.

He took some deep breaths, grateful that no one else was near them. He stepped up closer to Ray and spoke through gritted teeth, biting out each word.

"Ye don't judge me for cracking Stephen's ribs? For punching him in the face just for asking a question? For making his life a complete misery and for never being able to give him what he wants?"

Brendan started to feel tears form in his eyes but he blinked them away angrily.

"Don't ye fucking tell me ye don't judge me, because I fucking judge myself. Every single day of my fucking miserable excuse for a life"

"Brendan" Ray said quietly, leading him back inside, obscuring his face from the other inmates. Brendan allowed himself to be dragged along, hardly caring what was happening. He just had to push it, didn't he? Push him to this place he tried so desperately to prevent himself from thinking about.

The prison guard locked them back up in their cell and now that they were alone, Ray placed his hands on either side of Brendan's shoulders.

"I get it, Brendan. I was exactly the same. But the reason I told you that story was because that was the moment I finally realised that my life was a complete mess. That everything I had done to my lovers in the past was wrong, and cruel. That if pushed too far, maybe I'd end up doing what Johnny's boyfriend did, and killing someone" Ray took a deep shuddering breath. He gripped Brendan's shoulders tightly. "Do you hear me?"

Brendan nodded mutely. "I do want to change" he said quietly.

"I know, you do. I've been there, I know" Ray suddenly drew Brendan into a tight embrace. Brendan was amazed by the fact that he let him.

They didn't say another word. When they withdrew, Ray looked at Brendan intently, still holding him close. He carefully wiped away the tears Brendan didn't even know he had managed to shed away from his cheeks.

Their faces were impossibly close. Brendan could feel Ray's breath ghosting across his face. He didn't like this. It wasn't supposed to be like this. He started to pull away.

"Don't you ever get sick and tired of being in control all the time?" Ray asked quietly.

"No" Brendan said gruffly.

"Maybe if you let someone else take over for a change, you might surprise yourself with how differently things turn out"

"Oh ye?" Brendan asked sceptically.

"Try it" Ray breathed, closing the distance between them with a kiss. Brendan let himself be kissed, exhausted by his sudden outpour of emotion. Ray slid his mouth open with his tongue, slipping inside Brendan's mouth. Brendan wasn't used to being kissed like this. He wasn't used to Ray's rough stubble matching his own, wasn't used to the strong arms holding him, to being pushed against the wall roughly with strong, competent fingers unclasping his clothes.

And for the first time, Brendan didn't care if he was relinquishing control. He needed to be taught this. Needed to feel how it felt to be fucked by a man stronger than him, more aware than him of what this really was. Someone who had been in his position and had overcome it.

His first lesson began today.