A/N... I would like to apologise for my incorrect spanish. Thanks for the heads up, zephyr hb. I shall endeavour to do better and hope i did not cause offence with my ignorence. Cheers.

Alvarez awoke not realising he'd fallen asleep. Still crouched in the corner, his muscles had cramped stiff. Was he here? Had he come to him? Darkness. Miguel searched the cell but his eyes were unable to see anything in the near pitch.

He listened intently.

Nothing.

Relief that he was alone.

Disappointment that he hadn't come.

Groaning, he uncurled himself, stretching out and climbing over the bunk to sit on the edge. His first thoughts were so contradictory. Hell! He'd suffered depression before, was, in fact, still on the happy pills, but now was he becoming schizophrenic as well? He felt like he was been torn apart, two different people fighting over his body. But then he couldn't be or he would not know it was happening. But then again...? Fuck his head began to hurt.

Standing, moving to the toilet, finding his way easily in the darkness, he found he was still fully clothed. He should undress just in case he came. Urarrhg! His bladder needed relief so he began to piss concentrating on the noise his water made, cutting out everything else, focusing on the practical, the mundane. Finished, he pulled up his jeans and decided to remain clothed. A grin hidden in the darkness, he returned to lay stretched out on his narrow bed and settled into wait once more.

==000==

This time he had to be woken. "Diez minutos más," he was shaken again. He half came around, his arm going over his eyes against the light. "Maritza. Por favor, diez minutos más!" A slap to his stomach connecting with bare skin. That got is attention.

He sat up, moving backwards to sit against the wall. The Hack stood staring down at him amused. Miguel rubbed a hand across the stinging flesh, looking up. Surprise, he had come back. Shock, he had come back. Relief, he had come back. All filtered across his face. Obviously still confused then.

He settled for a petulant look, let the Hack make of it what he will. He'd never been good at being woken especially since being in OZ as it always seemed to be to bad news, danger or just another shit day inside. What was this to be he wondered?

The Hank's radio was removed with purpose and dropped to the ground and the man then sat next to Miguel, facing him, baton in hand. He reached forwards and ran the stick along his top lip, the bottom then inside along Miguel's bottom teeth, reopening the lip as it was forced down.

Alvarez didn't move, he was totally at a loss as to how to react to this, wanting to pull back at the slight pain but he remained frozen, his eyes intently watching the other's face.

"Sore lips," the man spoke "Umm me too. Took some explaining when I got home."

Miguel nearly asked what? Who to? But remind silent. The question must have been in his eyes though for the other laughed, "To my girlfriend of course!" he said confiding.

Jealousy swept through Miguel but then again why the fuck should he care? The stick was removed and, leaning forwards, it was replaced with a chaste kiss.

Still no response from Miguel. He tried again sucking on that gloriously swollen bottom lip, licking, then as Miguel's mouth opened, oh so slightly, placed a hand behind his head and pulled him into a deep long caressing one.

Miguel's mind went blank to all except the touch on his sensitised lips, mouth moving in response, nipping, sucking at the other until he tasted his own blood and pulled back slowly not wishing to cause offence. He was still totally ignorant of this man's reactions. The Hack sat back looking at Alvarez, seeing the blood, a bright red smeared across his mouth, he licked his own, the taste metallic on his tongue.

Miguel stared in horror. Didn't he realise how dangerous that could be? Especially in this place. And if he showed that little regard for his own health, it guaranteed that the sex, if it did indeed come, would not be safe, if any sex in this place could ever be called that, rubbers or not.

"Don't look so worried. I checked your Med records. Always do." Miguel knew about himself. What about you? he wanted to scream. Still watching his expression the Hack smiled, "Me? I checked out clean too!"

That set something else knocking at Miguel's brain, 'always do?' So he was not the first prisoner, not by a long way from the sounds of it. Any romantic notion that it was Miguel Alvarez that had wholly attracted this man fled. He was just another available body to fuck.

The man, seemingly oblivious to the brief look of hurt on Miguel's face, leant away to put a hand into a pocket and pulled out a small pot and from another a tissue. Licking the tissue he cleaned up Miguel's mouth and chin then, opening the pot, he dipped a finger then spread the pale pink cream on his own lips rubbing it in. Offering it to Miguel he said, "Lipbalm?" as if offering him a cigarette.

Miguel just stared. Shrugging his shoulders, he re-dipped and, reaching over, spread the grease onto Miguel's lips. Alvarez had to admit that it was soothing. The tub replaced, the man turned his gaze along Miguel's body motionless besides him, "Still dressed?" as if to say 'you didn't get ready for me?'

Rubbing lips together, Miguel thought back to his earlier decision and spoke the truth, "I've always liked to undress my partners. Thought you might too." There he had said it and burnt his last bridge to a former life.

The Hack considered, tilting his head gazing at the young Latino seeing some of his assurance and cockiness returning. That's what had marked him out months ago. He was pretty sure Alvarez had never really noticed him but the Hack had been waiting for his chance. When it came, a swap with a fellow guard, bored with the nightshift down here, and he was in. In here. "Slowly?"

A glint appeared in Miguel's eyes. "Not always," he replied with a grin to his lips, the first the man had seen for a long time.

He smiled back, "Oh yes, definitely slowly!" and put his hands to Miguel's sleeveless T-shirt, the first layer. Miguel decided to give no help remaining still, the grin gaining ground but no hindrance either. If he was going to do this, allow this man to touch him, play with him, fuck him, he had decided as it looked to be inevitable, he might as well enjoy himself.

The Hack saw the challenge and laughing, pulled Miguel towards him for a kiss careful of his lip, not wanting it to split yet again. Then his chin, jaw, neck and as Miguel's hand moved from his stomach to join the other in reaching towards him, he took the chance to pull the shirt up over his head.

Alvarez sat back allowing it to be pulled down and off his arms then loosely folded them across his chest. The Hack was going to have to work for it.

And he was willing to.

He had hoped that Miguel would be responsive and he was, after a little cajoling and only slight violence. He had been willing to try much more of both to get what he wanted, would have taken it if all else failed but he was glad that hadn't been necessary as he already regretted the bruises maiming that face and this was much more fun.

He got up, kicked off his shoes then moved to straddle Alvarez' thighs. Letting his weight settle on the man, he drove his hands up under the remaining long sleeved T-shirt, up his stomach onto the chest held under the folded arms. Leaning forwards, he gave short quick pecks to that grinning mouth.

Miguel didn't move. Deeper kisses and the hands moved down his sides and began of all things to tickle him. Miguel gave in laughingly, returned the kiss and raised his arms. The shirt was up and off in no time then joined its companion on the floor.

Rocked backwards, encircled by strong arms, Miguel settled in to be languidly kissed, glorious. He didn't need the slight movement of hips above him, slowly grinding onto his groin, to cause him to begin to harden for he was certain that, a kiss like this, could excite him unaided every time. The kiss broke away from him, the Hacks mouth practically pealing from his lips. Uttering a heart felt groan at the separation, it was this kind of contact he had missed the most, the tenderness, he was about to utter the man's name and was brought up short. He still did not know it!

The man leant forwards again, head bent, aiming for a shoulder. Miguel placed a restraining palm on his chest and felt the compact muscle through the fabric. The Hack looked at the hand then at Miguel's face, an eyebrow raised in question. He better not be having second thoughts as that body was just waiting to be explored. Placing hands on that slender stomach he waited for Miguel to decide to ask his question, he knew he could be intimidating, relied on it in fact.

Alvarez wasn't intimidated exactly but not knowing how this Hack could or would react, being confident and fairly conceited, his question might not go down too well. He almost had ceased to worry about a violent reaction to anything he did now, now he worried that the man might leave.

While thinking how best to phrase his request, his fingers began to undo the buttons on the dark blue shirt, top three undone, he slid his hand inside. Damn, a T-shirt. Biting his lower lip, the undamaged side, he applied both hands to the business of relieving the man of his shirt finding no resistance.

Maybe the Latino hadn't wanted to ask anything after all. Alvarez looked up, the query still evident in his eyes. "Ask Me." He pulled at the hair on Miguel's chest then a nipple. He squeezed it between thumb and finger, ran a nail over it as it stood erect under the attention. Still waiting, he pinched his current toy painfully.

Miguel hissed at the pain, blood rushing to flood his prick, pleasure and pain all at once.

"Well?"

Miguel looked bashful up through dark lashes. "Tell me your name. Who are you?"

He knew it! Miguel Alvarez had never taken any notice of him. He had been working this prison for years and to him he was just another nameless Hack! So if he were a man of mystery, so he would remain. Pretending to consider he decided, "Call me Amante!"

'Dios! Where did you learn your Spanish?' he thought, 'your accent's terrible'. The Hack laughed. Miguel was horrified, he hadn't meant to speak it out loud.

Amused, "From an old girlfriend."

Alvarez felt some of his bravado returning, at least the man had a sense of humour. "So. You have a 'thing' for our darker skin?" pushing to the side the remembered slurs. He knew what he was and compared to the paleness above him?

"Not necessarily. Depends on the whole package!" He was fed up with the banter, moving backwards off Alvarez, off the bunk, he pulled the man along the bed by his legs, lying him flat.

Miguel, taken by surprise, had a brief moment of panic. Had he pushed him too far? No more time to think as the waistband of his, luckily too big, jeans was grabbed and yanked down, no finesse just down and off. Left lying prone on his back, totally naked, Alvarez felt as vulnerable as he ever had and watching as the mans T-shirt swiftly joined the pile of clothes on the floor, his instincts took over, he couldn't meekly lie there waiting.

Swinging his legs off the bunk, he stood then moved towards the other man, hands raising to touch the broad chest before him. Next thing he knew he was sprawled back on the bunk, staring up into an angry face. "What the fuck was that for man?" he demanded indignantly. This time he saw the blow coming, so curled up with his arms protecting his head. The blow never landed instead he was wrestled onto his knees, head and arms forced down. His legs were pulled apart and he felt the Hack climb between them.

Oh shit! He was going to be fucked now, forced, and by the look he had just seen, far from gently! He began to panic, all his decisions, fantasies forgotten as he surged forwards, climbing away. His hips were grabbed and he was forced backwards, still struggling, to sit on the man's lap, a hand grabbing his forehead and pulling it back, the other arm around his chest, pining his own.

He continued to fight until the man's mouth clamped to his neck, teeth digging in either side of his jugular. He stilled, he wouldn't put anything beyond this man! The teeth left him, the mouth beginning to kiss, almost devour along his neck and shoulder with teeth once more digging in, biting just short of breaking skin, but he would be marked.

Alvarez was trembling. He could feel the man's prick pressing between his butt cheeks, only the fabric protecting him. He did not believe it would be protection for long. He gulped air, eyes desperately searching the ceiling for an escape he knew was not there. The mouth at his ear, "Miguel, you were doing so well. Why spoil it? Remember you agreed to do whatever I want?" He did remember, it had been a through away remark, not made in the manner it had been taken.

Obviously he had been wrong. This was not to be a mutual relationship. His arms were released as the hand roamed his body kneading him on his chest and stomach, pressing in on his belly. The other hand joined in, moving down the outside of his hips, thighs, then was dragged up slowly along the inside, cupping the flesh, pressing, working their way up to dig into the join of legs to body, thumbs digging in hard either side of his prick then flicking at his balls.

Under his panic, Miguel was aware of the effect those hands were having, teasing, exciting his prick but never touching. He moved forwards, his hands resting on the other's forearms, wanting to encourage the hands on, hoping he could get things back to a safer, less painful encounter. "Be still!" no room for interpretation, an order. He stopped, almost sobbing, his head dropping.

Moments before they had been two people enjoying each other, now he was just a plaything once more. A hand moved upwards running a tantalising finger along his length, fingering up the centre of his body to hold his neck, cupping his chin and forcing his head back to rest against the man's shoulder, his right cheek rubbing against the man's face.

"Stay!" The fingers spread, thumb toying with his ear, a finger on his lips playing, dipping into his mouth. The other hand moved to surround his prick, stroking. Two passes and Miguel could not be still. His back arched as he rubbed his face against the man's, his mouth trapping the finger playing there, sucking, licking and his hips wriggled on the man's lap.

He didn't know where to put his hands but he had to hold onto something. Arms at his sides, his hands grabbed the man's thighs through the fabric. He was lost now to sensation, all thought of punishment or retribution gone. All he knew was the hand working him, the fingers at his throat, in his mouth and the hardness pressing up into his butt.

He could hear moaning, unsure if it belonged to the man moving beneath him or himself. His prick was pulled, a thumb digging into that so sensitive spot just behind his head. No more, he couldn't take it any longer and with a violent shudder, he came groaning out his ecstasy. The hand clamped over his mouth, two fingers deep inside as the other continued to work him, causing him to spurt his last into the cupped palm. His own hands dug hard into the man's thighs leaving his own marks. He collapsed back against the body supporting him, gasping around the muffling hand.

Before he could recover, he was savagely pushed into the thin mattress, face against the rough sheet. His fists clenched, grasping the sheet as he felt a hand pressing down on the base of his spine and his own warm cum spread on his open, exposed arsehole.

Once more his emotions reversed from the heights of orgasm to fear as he felt a nail lightly scratching across his rim then his own liquid spread onto him. He squirmed, trying to get away from that finger.

Tears sprang to his eyes. He was such a fool. How could it come to this? To allow himself to end up in such a ridiculous situation, face down, ass stuck in the air? He would have preferred to be shanked. Instead he was being prepared for shafting! And he had wanted it! To be fucked! But not like this!

All thoughts of mutual pleasure fled as a finger was forced inside of him, pushing straight in to it's length. He would have screamed out at the invasion but he did not want anyone to hear his plight... His shame. He was being taken like some prissy little Prag but now, all he knew was pain, searing as his asshole clenched tightly around the alien object. Gasping, panting and sobbing, his body shuddering as it was wracked with spasms.

The Hack was enjoying the sight of Miguel's muscles rippling as he shook. He waited, giving time for Miguel's body to adjust to his intrusion, watching the rise and fall of his shoulders, his muscles clenching and straining. Running his free hand over skin, across the protruding shoulder blades then down along his side, he was thrilled at the flinching he caused.

Enough! He shifted slightly, undoing his pants as the tightness of Miguel began to fade with a pulsing then easing. He began to move his finger, circling, stretching and preparing Alvarez. He could not wait as he had been controlling himself far too long. So, forget finesse, forget gentleness. This was only a con after all, he didn't have to make him breakfast.

He pulled out his finger eliciting a hiss from Miguel, muffled but distinct and spread the rest of the cooling cum over his cock, harder than it had been in weeks and, grabbing Miguel's hips, he lined himself up, placing the head at the red inviting rim. This would be good, a tight virgin asshole. He was lubed enough for himself, for his own pleasure, sod it if it wasn't enough for prisoner. He slowly pushed forwards, his grip on Miguel's hips tightening, preventing the inevitable attempted escape.

Resistance, then, he was in. He stilled as the man beneath him tightened up, screamed into the mattress and waited for the adjustment, not so much concerned at the other man's pain as much as he didn't want to cause damage, spoiling it for his future pleasure. He had learnt from past mistakes.

Oh yes, Alvarez had been a good choice. Slight relaxing around his eager cock, he couldn't expect anything more and he pushed forwards, impaling himself to the length. Oh, the heat, the tightness. He could feel himself on the verge already. No! Not yet! He wanted to enjoy. Pulling back he surged forwards again.

Miguel's face was forced further into the mattress and he had to turn his head before he suffocated against the rubber under him. His entire universe consisted of pain as, in his ass, the man's prick felt so big it threatened to tear him wide apart. He stared at the rose inked into his hand, following the lines, anything to try and lead his mind away. He felt burnt, the friction intense as the prick was withdrawn, almost leaving him, then clenched his teeth on a scream as he was rammed once more.

As he moved forwards, hands grabbed him by the shoulders, forearms on his chest. He was pulled backwards, raising from the bed, a chest on his back, a face next to his. A strangled, "Support yourself"

What?

"NOW!"

Miguel grabbed at the rail of the cot, arms taut as he found he had to support the weight of them both. Teeth clenched so hard his jaws hurt. "Por favour ayudame." Help me, he prayed to anyone that would listen to a prisoner's pleas. The Hack's left hand joined his own on the rail, easing some of the weight as together they surged forwards once more, the Hack's face buried between his shoulder and neck. Had he spoken aloud again? And if so, did this Bastardo think he had been talking to him?

The change in position allowed the Hack in even deeper. He quickened the pace, knowing he would explode at any moment as he could not contain himself longer. With a roar, mirrored by a throat ripping cry from the slim figure encasing him, he reared forwards one last time, going in deep and let it go, releasing his all within the gasping body under him. Stilling, he then moved once, twice, to shudder out his last, collapsing breathless onto Alvarez whose arms gave out and hit the bunk hard.

Grunting out in agony, tears scoring his cheeks as the move caused the Hack to slip from him, Miguel felt as if his innards were following. It was so painful. He was so sore and swollen. He could feel, above all else, the man's cum inside of him and he imagined that it scarred.

A banging on the door, followed by the plate opening slightly. "Alvarez! Shut the fuck up!" It slammed back. Further banging on other cell doors, angry at the hoots from inside. "Quiet!" screamed the guard, the sound of his baton on metal as he moved away along the corridor.

Oh! No! Shit. Shit! Miguel sobbed destitute. They had been heard by the other Hack. What of the other prisoners? Would they realise what was happening? He prayed they thought him alone and loco once more. 'His' Hack laughed between satisfied, sated panting.

Yep! Miguel was good but it was over far too soon. All the expectation, the working on the con had excited him so much and he had not been able to prolong this fuck. Still, there was next time.

Recovering, he climbed off Alvarez, off the bunk and checking himself, thought, 'good, no blood'. He looked down at Miguel as he curled up on himself, sobbing. No tearing but he would be sore. Next time he must remember to use proper lube.

He dressed slowly, watching as Miguel gradually settled, the only movement a constant clenching of a hand at the twisted sheet under him. Reaching down to retrieve his radio, settling it on his shoulder, he noticed Miguel staring up at him from the corner of his eye, face buried behind an arm. Fear, hatred and disbelief all battled for supremacy in that look.

Dressed, hands on hips, he moved to stand over the ragged figure, skin glistening with sweat. "I'll leave the lights on for half an hour. Clean yourself up. Do not be found like this in the morning." He smiled, a threat in it. "You wouldn't want that!" No reaction.

He laughed and taking something from his pocket, threw it on the bunk by Miguel's hand. Then yelling incoherently, he kicked at the wall.

The door was pulled open, the bars grinding as they slid wide. "Alvarez!" he shouted at the still man, "You were told to shut the fuck up!" A pause, "Down. NOW" and with that, he nonchalantly left the cell.

As the grill slid shut, Miguel heard over the noise from the other cells the second Hack speak. "Lopreski. You owe me a hell of a lot more than a beer for this!" Then they were gone.

Alone, in pain and despair, Miguel's hand moved to the object left on the bed. Pulling it close to his eyes, he looked to see what it was. Lip Balm.

==000==

TBC...