Ste's beginning to become used to the sounds of Johnny Cash, never thought he'd be a fan of that kind of music, but it's hard not to grow fond of it when it's the soundtrack to Brendan fucking him, drowning out both of their voices, the shouting, the swearing, the sound of the unstable bed creaking with every thrust.
"What's this one?" Ste breathes, lowering himself down on the rock solid Irishman's cock, face creasing ever so slightly from the sudden insertion.
"Folsom prison blues," he answers wryly.
Ste smiles. "Apt."
He's pleased to notice that Brendan's voice sounds just as shaky. It's a thrill that he can have this much of an effect on him.
Ste knows that putting on background music only solves half the problem. The screen window's not blacked out, and Brendan being on lockdown means that a guard's looking in every five minutes, patrolling the corridor, presumably to make sure that he doesn't smash anything else up.
He'd been lying flat on his back on the bed, Brendan opening him up with his long fingers, and Ste had seen one of the officers looking in, had exchanged a glance that was easy to read, "What do you think you faggots are doing?"
His initial instinct had been to release himself from Brendan's hold and cover himself up. Brendan had followed his gaze and his words from the day before had come back to Ste, "I don't want an officer to come in and find us like this."
He'd prepared himself for Brendan shaking him off, had waited for his reaction and felt like he was hardly breathing, already felt the familiar pangs of rejection.
He'd laughed loudly in shock when Brendan had sticked his middle finger up at the officer, stared back at Ste with a triumphant smirk, licked a stripe along Ste's lips that told Ste all he needed to know, that Brendan wanted to be seen with him.
Ste had found himself smiling in return at the guard, had been brazen enough to stick his thumb up and follow it with a wave, had watched as the man's eyes became narrowed, had strongly looked like he wanted to open the door and exact some cruel form of revenge, but after a second he resumed patrolling the corridor, chest puffed out like he was trying to prove to himself that he was still a man.
Ste's sure that he's doing this all wrong, that he's meant to be feeling disgusted with himself at the things he wants, that he's not meant to be so calm about all of this. This wasn't what Terry and Pauline taught him. The word gay didn't exist under their roof, it was queers, poofs, fags, benders. Terry would kill him if he knew what he was doing now.
He should feel ashamed, he shouldn't feel happy. He shouldn't feel that whatever Brendan does to him it's never enough, constantly wants more, desire like he's never felt in his life.
It's difficult not to say something sentimental, seems to be stronger when he's like this, connected to Brendan in every possible way. He's stopped using the pillow to muffle his voice, fears he's close to ripping it, thought of standing in front of one of the staff and saying "I'm too vocal during sex, can I have another one?" the biggest deterrent of all.
It's another first for him, this position. He's never had the luxury of being on top like this with a man, feels trepidation and excitement at the idea of having that kind of power, of possibly doing something wrong, or the sense of achievement at doing something right, still can't fathom how Brendan chose him out of everyone.
Brendan's staring at him like he can do this, has complete belief in him, never thought prison would be a place where he'd discover self worth, but this man is giving it to him.
Brendan's still and Ste can imagine it's a first for him too, that it's not an entirely comfortable place for him, giving someone else the reins and waiting for them to act. Ste begins slowly rotating his hips, moves up and down gradually, eyes never leaving Brendan's own, can see the soft smile on the older man's face, surveys Ste like he's watching something special, and he doesn't know what he's done to deserve such undivided worship.
Brendan strokes up his stomach, tweaks a nibble, rubs it softly, fingers exploring downwards, grazing over Ste's tattoo, makes his hand into a clawing gesture as he moves past it. Ste feels so sensitive already, is shivering as a result, every nerve ending feeling like it's standing on end, completely tuned in and hyperaware.
He leans forward, takes Brendan's face in his hands, strokes his cheeks as he kisses him, is still rotating his hips the smallest amount, feels like they're sharing something here that transcends the physical, that Brendan's just bared his soul to him, and idiotic or not Ste's told him that fuck it, he accepts it all, he can deal with what he did to Warren and the officer because he understands it. He understands him, has felt wrong and twisted all his life, but here's someone whose come along whose made him feel right, made him feel less alone.
Ste keeps his hands on Brendan's chest, uses it as a type of support as he moves up and down. Brendan looks dazed, looks at him through half lidded eyes like he's the most beautiful, wonderful thing he's ever seen. Ste desperately wants to believe that it's more than just this, more than what he's doing to his body, that Brendan feels what he feels, that there's a comfort in this, that even when their senses are on fire it's with aliveness, there's the certainty at the other end that they won't fall.
Brendan grips onto his hips with the same intensity that he did during their first time together. There's going to be marks there tomorrow but Ste doesn't care, relishes it, is scraping his nails down Brendan's stomach as he moves faster, throws his head back and rides him, just as glorious and freeing as he'd dreamed it would be.
Brendan becomes animalistic when he's like this, sits up so that his chest is almost rubbing against Ste's, licks one of his nipples, takes it between his teeth and makes it hard. Over the music Ste can hear him growling and it spurs him on further, wants to send Brendan over the edge.
Brendan's already finding it difficult to let Ste be in charge, and Ste laughs at the sight of the older man moving his hips underneath him, can't resist being the boss for more than a second. He's not protesting, stills his own rotations and allows Brendan to thrust up from below, knows exactly what he's doing to Ste and it's incredible for someone to be so in control like this, a master of their own body, feels like Brendan's finely tuning Ste's own like it's an instrument.
"Any other man ever make you feel this good, Steven?"
"Shut up," he digs his hands into Brendan's hair harder, trying to reaffirm his words.
"It's a simple question."
"A pervy question." He can't help but smile though. Brendan's not entirely wrong, even if he is being damn cocky. No other man has ever made him feel this good.
"No, a pervy question would be if I have the biggest -"
"Ego? Yeah, I think you do."
It's Brendan's turn to take a swipe at him, bites down on his nipple hard, the type of pain that Ste doesn't want to admit he likes.
"Come on then, what's your real answer?" Brendan leans back and stares at him, and Ste notices the way his lips are slightly red from their kisses, can't even imagine how he must look with the added friction of Brendan's moustache over him.
"To what?" He plays innocent, was innocent up until a few weeks ago when it came to sex.
Brendan continues driving his dick into Ste, is making him half crazy with distraction but he's trying to not let Brendan see the extent of what he's doing to him, wants something resembling modesty to still exist within him. It's not going to last though, it never does. It's hard to pretend that every fibre of his being isn't loving this when he ends up holding Brendan by the arse to encourage him to go faster. Ste doesn't do reserved.
"Have you ever had someone this big inside you?" The tip of his tongue sticks out from between his teeth, looks like he's trying to hold in licking his lips like Ste's an all you can eat buffet.
"Loads of times," Ste says, blasé.
Brendan stops, looks like he's frozen in place. "Who?"
Ste frowns, stares away into the distance like he's trying to remember.
"Well there's been Noah, Adam, Paul, David, a really hot French guy called Pierre, you should have seen his -"
"Stop." Brendan says it so loudly that Ste flinches, hasn't heard him raise his voice in anger for a while. He abruptly lifts Ste off him, covers himself with the sheet.
"How many guys have you been with, Steven?"
"You've already asked me that before."
"Well I'm asking again."
"I told you, I don't remember."
"That many?" Brendan turns his face again, puffs out a "Jesus."
Ste suddenly feels defensive, is stark naked and having the person he trusted moments ago looking at him like he's some kind of whore.
"Yeah, and so what? You don't have a past too?"
He can only imagine how much Brendan's got around, oozes sexuality from every pore, you don't get this good without practicing.
"I'm ten years older than you."
"Yeah, and so what if I've slept with a few people?" He's starting to wonder if he's saying this for Brendan's benefit or his own, has always felt that his one night stands were necessary but joyless, that after the momentary rush and pleasure he was left in a cold toilet cubicle with a virtual stranger, neither of them even bothering to exchange numbers, because they knew what this was.
"After everything I found out today I don't think you have the right to judge me, do you? I've forgiven you for Warren."
"Forgiven me?" Brendan laughs in that high, manic way that he does, that Ste's starting to recognise is something of a trait of his, a mask for when he's pissed off. "I don't need your forgiveness, I don't need someone to think that they're above me."
"Really? That's not what you were saying earlier. Or does sex make you lose all your brain cells?"
He's beginning to understand that this is what Brendan does, becomes vicious when he feels insecure, has made pushing people away into a kind of sport, that it's unnatural for him to hold onto something. He wonders if Eileen was a calming influence on him, if she watched as the storm brewed and managed to diffuse it because she refused to give into it.
Ste can't not interfere, feels like whatever Brendan's made of he's made of the same, is an explosive combination that he's surprised they're both still alive, that they haven't teared each other to shreds by now.
"If you want to know the truth, I was having you on, alright? And not about me sleeping with other men - because yeah, I did that. And I'm not going to apologise to you, because I don't owe you anything for who I was back then."
Brendan grunts, a small sign at least that part of him is attempting to process this.
"Are you just going to stand there like a statue then? Not say anything?"
Brendan lowers himself back down onto the bed, stares at Ste as if he's asking for his permission, wants to see whether it's safe. Ste begrudgingly moves up to allow him room.
"I'm..."
"Sorry? Seems to be your favourite word, that."
"I'm not as good at all this as you, okay? I don't have the...words." He picks at a loose thread on the bed cover, and Ste's sure he sees him blushing. God.
"Neither do I," he says softly, can't understand how Brendan doesn't get that, that if he's clueless than Ste's just the same, doesn't have any easy solutions to this either. "That can't be an excuse though. I'm not just going to let you treat me like crap because you've never been in a..." He stops himself from saying relationship before it's too late.
"I know, I know," Brendan mumbles. "I just...all this...what I'm..."
"Feeling?" Ste hazards a guess, feels like Brendan's relying on him here to fill in the blanks.
"What I'm...feeling," He says it like it's poisonous. "You with other men..."
"Are you jealous?"
Brendan scoffs, laughs at Ste like he's off his head, of course he's not jealous, he doesn't do that emotion, doesn't do any emotion at all.
Except now he does.
"I'm not not jealous," he says after a moment. Ste reckons that's the closest he's ever going to get to admitting it out loud.
"Is this still about Walker? I meant what I said, I'm going to tell him tomorrow."
"He's still going to look at you though, isn't he?"
Ste playfully pushes Brendan's leg, wants him to realise how ridiculous he sounds.
"I can't exactly cut out his eyeballs, can I?"
"Why not? We could do it together. One eyeball each."
Ste's not entirely sure he's joking.
"He's not the only one who's after you, Steven."
Ste feels scared at the thought. He'd meant to be trying to keep his head down, not attracting the attention of half of the prison population. He can't see why they'd like him, wonders if it's because they think they can manipulate him, that he's an easy target.
"I'm surprised Foxy hasn't tried his luck."
"Warren?" He barks out, reliving what he saw in the cell between him and Ethan. "No chance. He hasn't even looked at me like that."
"Trust me, he has. He'd love nothing more than to try and piss me off."
Walker's one thing - Ste believed him when he said that he wants someone who wants him back, that he wouldn't take advantage like that. But Ste knows what Warren's capable of, doesn't want to be anywhere near him.
"You wouldn't let him though, would you?" Ste's ashamed when it comes out as pleading, feels like a little lost boy asking for Brendan's protection.
Brendan stares at him heatedly. When he speaks his voice is low, threatening. "I'm not going to let him touch you. No one's going to touch you."
"Except you," Ste says, feels more reassured by this fact than he should.
Brendan smiles, lines of worry smoothing out across his face. "Except me."
Ste hesitates, wonders for a moment if he should broach the subject again, wants Brendan to know that he meant what he said, that he can't speak to him as if he's done something wrong. Everyone he was with before were outside these prison walls, before he even knew Brendan existed. He usually wouldn't care if someone had that opinion of him, least of all a man, he'd expect it, but Brendan's his exception.
But it feels like he doesn't have to push it with him. There's not the emphasis on apologising, on making him apologise. It's not like it used to be with Amy and Rae, where he felt like he was constantly walking on eggshells.
He crawls over to Brendan's lap, every intention of finishing what they started here, Brendan moving his legs to effortlessly accommodate him.
He kisses him, rough prickle of his moustache against his upper lip, gyrates his arse shamelessly over Brendan's dick to provoke, knows that Brendan's completely aware of it by the way his breath hitches. His hands move from around Ste's back to his arse, cups it, touch surprisingly soft and tender before he pulls it forward so that Ste's seated more securely.
Brendan's dick is trapped between their bodies, positioned just below Ste's arse, and he rolls his hips back, smooth skin rubbing against the hardness of him, eliciting a low hiss from the man's lips.
"You're not just a pretty face, are you Steven?"
"Did you ever doubt me?"
He doesn't wait for the answer, knows how Brendan saw him when he first arrived, but it's so far away from where they are now that it barely even registers, isn't important.
Ste takes Brendan's cock between his hands, positions it over his entrance. He's still wet and loose and it slides in cleanly, braces himself on Brendan's chest and he's moving, watching as the man below him regards him with wonderment, methodically stroking his hand up and down Ste's cock while he rides him, Johnny Cash singing in the background, Ring of Fire now. Ste's not sure whether he's trying to drown out the sounds of the music now with his cries, the taste of love is sweet, far too close to how he's feeling, doesn't want Brendan to sense it in him, is scared he'd run a million miles if he did, that this place wouldn't be enough to contain him.
It's getting increasingly difficult to get out of bed in the morning. Ste's reluctant to leave Brendan's side, has never had someone so strong holding him like this, makes him feel strong too.
He already feels a flutter of nervousness about what he's got to do today, has tried to keep the fear out of his voice when he talks to Brendan, but the idea of telling Walker that he doesn't want to be with him scares him, would rather put it off and go on existing in this limbo state, drag it out till the last possible minute.
He gets dressed, purposefully doesn't choose the polo top that Walker had said brought out the colour of his eyes, seems to have borrowed most of his flirtatious one liners from a cheesy dating show, watched too many episodes of Blind Date back when he was younger perhaps.
He tries to tiptoe but he sees Brendan stirring on the bed, stretching like a cat in the sun, reaching out to the empty space beside him. Ste smiles at the thought that Brendan immediately wants to touch him, half wants to forget about the task ahead and join him again.
Brendan seems to notice something in his expression, rubs the sleep from his eyes and sits up on the pillow, edge of panic in his voice.
"Something wrong?"
"No, course not." Ste says it as much for himself as for Brendan's sake. "I just thought I'd get ready early, go and find Walker at breakfast."
"You're going to tell him this soon? You've got the rest of the day." He sounds just as anxious as Ste feels.
"I want to get it over with." All he can concentrate on right now is the relief he'll feel when he goes to bed that night, knowing that the contract has been consigned to the past.
He slips on his tracksuit bottoms and a pair of trainers, thinks that maybe this will help to convince Walker that he's nothing special.
"How do I look?" He turns to Brendan, brushing himself down.
"Far too good. Remind me again, the objective is to reject him, yes? Not to make him eat you for breakfast?"
"Shut up," Ste says embarrassedly, can't take the compliment so he fidgets instead.
It's not enough to stop Brendan from staring at him, and fuck, is he trying to undress him with his eyes, or does he just look like that naturally?
"Really - this is doing it for you?" Ste asks, can't help the tinge of amusement pepper his voice. "I didn't think you'd like that whole look." He hadn't had Brendan down as having some sort of peculiar fetish for tracksuits.
"Maybe I like the boy in the tracksuit."
"What if I dressed like Doug?" He challenges, watches as Brendan frowns, looks all but disgusted.
"What, jumpers and cream chinos? Jesus. No fucking thanks."
"Aw, you trying to tell me that I'd still be sleeping alone if I looked like that, then? All heart, you."
Brendan rolls his eyes to the ceiling, knows that Ste's just teasing him but he can't seem to abide by it, acts like his own children were never this playful, that it's something of a shock, testing him.
"Okay, so...maybe you wouldn't be alone," Brendan admits reluctantly. "But don't start getting any ideas."
Ste smiles triumphantly, turns his back to slip on a jacket, mumbles "Definite tracksuit fetish."
When an officer opens the door they go down to the dining room together, and Ste notices how Brendan keeps more to his side this time, as if afraid that Walker's going to jump out from a hiding place at any moment.
When they reach the hall Ste picks up a tray, casting his eyes around the room to find who he's looking for. Walker catches his eye almost immediately, smiles in acknowledgement but looks away again. He's keeping to his side of the bargain then. Maybe this is going to be easier than he thought. Maybe Walker doesn't want him, maybe this is all a game, a passing fancy because he's bored, restless.
Ste notices how Brendan's barely put anything on his plate, a few slices of toast and that's it.
"Aren't you hungry?" The idea seems impossible, insane.
"Maybe my new diet is filling me up," he says suggestively, leans in close to Ste. "Cum diet."
"Brendan!" Ste admonishes, shoves him lightly and scrunches up his face. "That's disgusting."
"You say disgusting, I say...tasty."
"You truly are gross."
"You weren't complaining when I kissed you," Brendan says, eyes sparkling.
"Yeah, that's...different."
"How?"
"Don't know. Give me five minutes and I'll work out how." He turns to Walker, notices that he's already beginning to rise from his seat. "Scratch that, better make it twenty."
Brendan grabs his arm as he goes to leave. "Where are you going?"
Ste motions with his hand. Brendan knows he's got to do this.
"I said you could talk to him in here, not where I can't see you."
"Oh, you said I could? Because I need your permission?"
"Fucking hell Steven, this isn't the time for another argument. You know what I meant - I can't let you get hurt."
Ste softens slightly, believes him. "Just...follow me, yeah? If you're that worried. Wait outside his cell."
"You're not going to his cell. No way."
"He's not going to try anything."
"You barely know him." A vein is bulging on Brendan's forehead now, makes him look even more manic than he already appears.
"He hasn't forced anyone before. You wouldn't be friends with him if he had."
Brendan says nothing, can't deny this.
"Please. We agreed that I'd do this."
Brendan looks torn, stares after Walker's retreating form like he's debating whether or not to let Ste follow, to enter into the lions den. After a moment he nods quickly, looks like every muscle in his body is resisting pulling Ste closer, keeping him as far away from Walker as possible.
"I'll be with you the whole time. Shout if you want me to come in."
"I will," Ste agrees hurriedly, strongly hopes that it's not going to come to that.
He follows Walker out, whispers to Brendan to give them some distance so he's not seen, to wait till he's in the cell. He's never gone here before, the combination of Walker and Warren making him give it a wide birth.
"Simon."
He catches him just before he closes the door, registers the look of surprise on the man's face.
"Are you lost? Our week hasn't elapsed."
"Actually, it's about that. I need to talk to you. Alone."
Ste realises that he was foolish to use the word, that all that Walker's got from that sentence is alone, looks like a snake whose caught a mouse in its trap.
He opens his door for him, stands back to allow Ste to enter like he's being a gentleman, only he's the sort who doesn't expect a thank you, he expects a blow job.
Ste feels like he can almost sense Brendan watching behind the corner, gets comfort from the fact. He's never had his own personal body guard before, least of all one who looks like that.
Ste immediately notices that there's a divide in the cell, as though there's a clear line separating Warren's half from Walker's. One is sparse, barely decorated, just littered with what looks like the barest essentials. The other is adorned with martial arts medals, bed made tidily, looks like every object has been placed around the room with a purpose, that it's all been carefully considered.
Ste feels like he's visiting someone's house for the first time, feels the urge to be polite and say "I like what you've done with the place."
"Take a seat, please."
Ste doesn't know where to sit. Even with Warren in the hospital he's still half scared that he's going to jump out at any moment, is too afraid to put that theory to the test. But he can't sit on Walker's bed. The objective is supposed to be to deter him and let him down gently, not give him false hope and make him think that Ste's going to be in that bed soon.
"Don't worry, I'll stand," he leans against the wall, tries to pretend that he doesn't feel incredibly awkward here.
"You look beautiful, Ste."
Ste blinks, doesn't know how to even begin to process that, is used to Walker disarming him with his bluntness by now, but it never stops having an effect.
"Er...thanks," he manages, is sure that his face is saying something else, rejecting the compliment entirely.
"Maybe absence truly does make the heart grow fonder." Walker smiles, looks like he already knows what's going to happen here, and Ste thinks how much simpler it would be to just give into it, to not have to deal with the consequences of saying no. "How have you been, sweetheart?"
"Simon, you've got to stop with all this sweetheart stuff."
"Why, don't you like it?"
"It makes me feel like a girl or something."
Walker moves closer to him, and Ste realises he was incredibly stupid to not take up his offer of a seat, that now there feels like there's little escape, that he's being trapped.
"I'll be fucking you, darling. Technically that makes me in charge, so...forgive me if I see you as the submissive." Walker looks genuinely confused by his reaction, like he's not used to someone arguing the point.
This is Ste's opening, he knows it and he's trembling, wishes that Walker would stop looking at him for a second so he could actually talk, feels so fucking nervous being watched like this.
"About that, I...I'm not going to be doing that. Sleeping with you." It comes out in a rush of words, so frantically that Ste wonders whether he'll be understood at all.
After a moment he knows that Walker's heard everything, face turning to a rock hard statue.
"I'm sorry." He doesn't want to say it, knows he hasn't got a damn thing to be sorry about here, but he feels like he has to, like he's offended the man. "I just don't think it's a good idea."
Walker looks like he's sucking on a very large lemon, one that's lodged in his throat.
"Is this about you being straight again? I thought you'd at least agreed that you've had - what did you call it? Thoughts."
The idea seems to intensely amuse Walker, like he's just told a particularly funny joke. Ste wishes he'd never opened his mouth about that now, that he'd lied and said that he was still with Amy.
"If this is about shame, I told you, if you're with me no one will hurt you. I'll kill them if they do."
Perhaps someone else would feel flattered, but Ste strongly wishes that he didn't produce this kind of effect on the men in here.
"It's not about that. Please, just...respect my decision, yeah?"
Walker runs his hands through his hair, looks like he's a moment away from punching the wall in frustration. Ste tries to keep hold of the fact that Brendan's close, that all he has to do is shout and he'll be here.
"There's loads of other guys in here," Ste mumbles, feels like he's trying to soften the blow.
"Have you seen your face?"
"Yeah..." He wonders if it's a serious question.
"What about your arse?" Walker steps up closer, plants his hands either side of Ste against the wall. "Ever taken a close look at that?"
"Funnily enough I don't like to stare at my bum in the mirror all day."
Walker laughs, reaches with a hand and strokes Ste's face, and he can barely move enough to shake him off.
"Your mouth is definitely my favourite though. The things that come out. Tell me baby, what do you sound like in bed?"
Ste reddens, feels so fucking surreal and personal that he's been asked these questions, has barely even thought about what he's been like in bed here because he's been with Brendan, but now he feels exposed and increasingly violated.
"Simon, stop."
It almost seems to be some kind of code word, is enough to make Walker draw away, give Ste some breathing space, stop the fluttering of panic that's causing his body to feel on fire, his palms to sweat, his pulse hammering in his throat.
"You haven't even read my contract yet."
Ste hadn't expected there to be an actual agreement on paper, had imagined that Walker had been reading too much of Fifty Shades of Grey and become carried away with the whole notion.
His curiosity is piqued in spite of himself.
"There's an actual contract?"
Ste resists the urge to laugh at the image that forms in his head, a piece of paper with love hearts and "Ste and Walker forever" scribbled in the column. He has to remind himself that this isn't school, and that Walker's more likely to give Ste someone's head on a plate for Valentines Day rather than the card and packet of wine gums that he once received from Amy.
"Of course. I'm serious about these things, Ste. I don't think it's fair for you to refuse my offer when you don't even know the terms."
Sly bastard. Acting like I've offended him here.
"So if I see this...contract...and I don't agree with it - then will you accept if I say no?"
"I promise. I could never lie to you."
Ste thinks that's highly debatable, but he's starting to think that it may be the only way he'll truly get out of this, if Walker knows he's got the full picture and Ste still refuses to sleep with him. He can just imagine the man using every chance he can get to remind him of it otherwise. "You don't know what you're missing" "You never listened to me, sweetheart."
"Okay then. Lets hear these terms of yours."
Walker looks triumphant, may as well have just been pushed down onto the bed by Ste and been stripped of his clothes.
"But first, please - sit down. You're going to get a cramp being in that position, and you'll be of no use to me then, will you?"
"I'm sure that's why you want me on your bed, Simon. Concern for my welfare."
He joins Walker on his bed nonetheless, tries to keep a good distance between them. Walker stands briefly to get out a stack of papers from his drawers, and Ste can't keep it in, whispers "fuck" under his breath, doesn't go unnoticed by the older man, looks over to Ste with a smile.
"I see you've been writing a novel there."
"I like my boys to know what they're getting into."
Ste wonders if Walker truly does this with all the people he likes, that he takes them back to his cell and gets them to sign his papers like he's selling real estate.
"First of all, lets stop all this "I'm straight, I've only ever had passing thoughts" rubbish. You're about as straight as Doug isn't a drug dealing murderer."
Ste's shocked at the mention of his friend, knew that Walker ignored him but had no idea he was this hostile.
"Bi or gay?"
Ste hesitates, hasn't even truly begun to work it out for himself yet, and he doesn't know whether lies or the truth will help him here.
"Bi," he mumbles. "No...I..." He nibbles on his lip, thinks about how he was attracted to Amy and Rae, how he liked being with them, but now that he's with Brendan he can't imagine anything else, of ever going back there. "Gay." It's barely a whisper.
Walker scribbles on the piece of paper. "Right, so that means a threesome with a female officer is out of the question."
Ste's eyes widen, senses that Walker isn't joking.
"You've had sex before, right?"
"Yes," Ste says quietly, feels like he's an idiot for answering. With Brendan it had excited him talking about this. With Walker he feels like he's taking part in some routine questionnaire.
"Part number one," Walker says, looking at his papers.
"There are parts?"
"I'm very thorough." Ste doesn't know how he has the ability to make everything sound suggestive.
Walker lays the papers down on the bed, offers them to Ste to look at.
"This is a list of things that you can agree to let me do to you."
Ste's eyes travel over the paper, sees things like insert sex toys, can't help but laugh when he views the box marked give a sensual massage.
"This is a prison, I don't think you can get things like sex toys..." He trails off when he sees Walker's expression that suggests that he's got his own private collection, enough to set up his own business.
"What do you like, Ste?"
Ste looks at the boxes, trails his hands over blow jobs, rimming, fingering, then stops, goes stock still and then turns sharply to the man beside him.
"Wait a second, I'm not - I'm not agreeing to this, you know. I didn't mean..."
"Hypothetically, of course. If you agree to the contract. You'll notice that there isn't a list of things you can do to me."
"Why not?"
"Because I like everything."
Ste raises his eyebrows, can't help but ask, hypothetical or not. "Even bottoming?"
"And here I thought you didn't know anything about gay culture," Walker smirks.
Ste doesn't admit that he only heard the term from Brendan.
"I wouldn't object to that. I've tried it before. Not exactly my status quo, but it has its pleasures."
Ste thinks he's insane, has no idea what he's missing out on, that if Walker had had sex with Brendan he wouldn't just be calling it a pleasure.
"How big are you?" Walker looks pointedly down at Ste's groin.
"I'm not telling you that!" He immediately covers his crotch.
Walker tuts, sighing dramatically. "Honestly sweetheart, I'm going to find out when I'm sucking on it, there's really no need to be so coy."
Ste doesn't bother to tell him that he won't be, can't summon up the strength to argue.
"Right, so we've established that you like having your dick sucked and your arse eaten and fingered." He says it like he's reeling off a shopping list, doesn't even pay attention to Ste blushing furiously. "Next part." He flips over the paper, and Ste sees the heading, other partners. "While you're with me, you won't sleep with anyone else outside of my approval."
"What do you mean, your approval?"
"You're skipping ahead, but if you insist - part three. Threesomes. Ever tried one?"
"No," Ste says, as if it's obvious.
Walker laughs. "Oh darling, you're like a little chicken thats barely spread its wings."
Ste can feel himself pouting at the insult, knows that it always provokes Walker but he's feeling increasingly frustrated at being made to feel small because he never slept with half of Chester.
"Under our terms you can have sex with someone else, but only if it's with me too." He says it firmly, no room for disagreement.
"And what about you? Would you still be able to sleep with other people?"
"I'd be the same as you. Anyone I'm with will be within these four walls, with you present."
Ste can't imagine the flirting coming to an end, the way that Walker constantly tries it on with the officers, fucking them in a quiet, dark corner of the cell. He pities the boys that Walker's had in the past who have believed that they were actually getting into this exclusively with him.
"Part four - positions," he continues. "What do you like?"
"Simon." He has to put a stop to this now, can't reveal anything else that he feels is intensely private, something that he only wants to share with one person now. "I really don't want to do this. This contract - you and me. I'm sorry, but I'm not going to agree to it."
Walker's quiet, rolls the paper in his palm and looks down at the floor.
"I want you."
You can't have me.
"Please. You once told me that you want someone to want you back, remember? I don't. Find someone else."
He feels the need to be blunt now. Trying to be polite hasn't got him anywhere with the man so far, has led to him revealing what gets him off in bed, has resulted in him feeling like he's made a fool of himself.
"I'm not going to force you, Ste."
He feels a spark of relief at that, thinks that he may actually walk out of here with his body intact.
"It's your decision. I think you're making the wrong one though. Like I said, you haven't even begun to find out what can be done to you. How good sex can be."
Ste wants to tell him I know exactly what it's like, I've known since Brendan fucked me. But it would be game over. He can't.
He stands up to leave, pretends that he hasn't seen the prominent bulge in Walker's trousers. The man's unashamed though, knows and follows him anyway, makes no attempt to cover it.
"At least tell me one thing before you leave."
Ste's sure he's not going to like what it is.
"Go on," he says tentatively.
Walker's eyes look black, like the pupils have all but been swallowed.
"What sound do you make when you come?"
Ste walks out, hears the door clang behind him, motions for a nervously pacing Brendan to follow him until they're both around the corner and out of sight, and falls into his arms.