Toby watched Ryan stand up from his chair, preparing leave, their substance abuse group therapy over for the week. Toby quickly followed, catching Ryan by the arm to force eye contact. "I need to talk to you."
"What about?" Toby nodded backwards, in indication of the far wall. Ryan cast a glance at Sister Pete then the other departing inmates before accompanying Toby. "What?"
"The other night I woke up. It was late, two or three maybe, and I could have SWORN I saw you walk by..." Ryan paled and the remainder of Toby's explanation dying in his throat. "Why did Murphy let you out-"
"Shut up, Beecher." Hissed Ryan in lethal warning. He seized the ex-lawyer by the scruff of his shirt and shoved him hard against the wall. "You are NOT going to ruin this for me. You keep your fucking mouth shut, or I'll-"
"You'll what?" asked Toby intrigued by Ryan's response and not fearful of it. "Have someone kill me? You do that, and Keller'll start an all out bloodbath until he works his way up to you. You're not stupid, and neither am I. I haven't said a word but if I've noticed, who's to say someone else hasn't?"
"Fuck!" Ryan's curse was sharper then he would have liked and it called unwanted attention to them.
"Tobias? Ryan?" summoned Sister Pete authoritatively as the prisoners from her second group began filing in. "Is there a problem?"
Ryan released Toby, his gaze lethal in intent. "No. There's no problem."
Toby smoothed out his shirt, eyes deadlocked with Ryan's. "Are you sure about that, Ryan? By the look on your face, I'd say there's a big-"
"Where do you want to take this?" demanded Ryan all but quaking consumed by his fear and his rage.
"Your pod."
"Fine." Ryan felt like he was choking. He could feel the atmosphere about him pressurizing, bowing his bones and enshrouding him in pain. This couldn't be happening. The one shred of happiness he had found in God knew how long, was in jeopardy of being torn away. No. He would not surrender without drawing blood, and he sure as hell would not endanger Murphy's integrity. Clenching his fists at his side as they walked Ryan silently vowed to protect Murphy at all costs. In a matter of agonizing minutes the two males reached the pod and Ryan closed the door. "What the FUCK is it you want from me, Beecher?"
"Just answers." Toby's voice was even, his words calculated. While Ryan's emotions dictated his presence of mind Toby was able to keep his presentation even keeled, a vocational skill well preserved and used especially in Oz. "I saw you and Murphy leave last night. Ten minutes later, you're back in the pod and he's at control like nothing happened. Please tell me this is about Dr. Nathan."
"Dr. Na-Gloria? You think this is about, GLORIA?"
"No? Then what is it about, Ryan? Of all the CO's in Oz, I thought Murphy was supposed to be a stand up guy-"
"He is!" growled Ryan advancing towards Toby his venom churning, yet he just managed to keep his volume at a discreet level. "He's not doing ANYTHING wrong, he's just trying to-trying to..." Ryan flattered, his brain short circuiting the emotional tidal wave drowning him abruptly. "He's my friend, all right? He's been trying to help me keep all the shit together that I have to carry in here." declared Ryan as he pressed an extended finger to his temple. "Do you know what it takes for me to survive every day in this fucking place, and keep Cyril alive? To stay just dangerous enough that no one fucks with me, but under the radar so I'm not a target for the real guys with power? I'm tired, Toby. I can't fucking DO this anymore, and Murphy...Murphy wants to help a fellow Mick stay alive another goddamned day for the sake of his fucking retard ass little brother." Crowding Toby, Ryan lowered his hands to his sides, determined not to touch the other male. If he did, he knew he'd inflict pain. "Whatever happens to me, doesn't matter. But Murphy? He's the only fucking badge that has ever respected us as people. We owe him. You think the other CO's would let you and Keller fuck all night and sleep together if he didn't have a say? Don't fuck this up, Beecher. Forget what you saw. Forget that you know, just leave it the fuck alone."
"You're, FRIENDS?" repeated Toby grappling with the concept. He was wrong? Dr. Nathan and Ryan were not romantically involved? Toby's mind returned to the previous conversation in the laundry room. Ryan had asked, it was 'mostly the sex' with Keller, or was it 'more', the interest laying particularly in their emotional bond. Ryan revealed he felt that honest love was 'addicting', likening it to hope, the most illusive of all ideals in prison. Toby distinctly recalled telling Ryan that through loving Keller he had learned to live in the moment, and with Ryan's response of 'It's all the ones you're not with him that're fucked', Toby mistakenly assumed he was talking about Toby's perspective and never his own. "Oh my, God." Whispered Toby, the realization striking him full force in the gut. "You-"
"It's ME." Growled Ryan extending a finger of warning at Toby's face, his campaign not to touch him failing as he seized Toby's throat with his free hand. "Murphy doesn't know-"
"It's okay." Assured Toby wondering why the hand on his throat wasn't constricting. "Ryan, I of all people understand-"
"I'm not fucking LIKE you, Beecher." Snarled Ryan advancing upon Toby until the ex-lawyer's back was against the bunks. "I'm not a faggot."
Anger flashed cold and hard within Toby's blue eyes. "I'm not either, Ryan. But this is Oz, if you find love you hold on to it for dear life, and nothing; not society, not the rules, not gender, means anything in the face of that." Toby reached up and took Ryan's wrists in his hands to lower the Irishman's arms. "I'm happy for you. I won't say anything; not even to Keller, but you better stress to Murphy that more eyes are open then he might think."
"I don't fucking trust you, Beecher. Nothing is free, so what are you gonna want from me?"
Sorrow pulled at the corners of Toby's gaze as he released his hold upon Ryan, and slowly shook his head. "I'm the one repaying a debt, Ryan. When Schillinger-" Toby faltered and drained his voice of hate before continuing. "It wasn't just drugs you gave me, Ryan. It was you. I wouldn't have lasted the year if it weren't for you doing what you did for me. And my silence now? It pales in comparison to the magnitude of what I truly owe you."
"No it doesn't." Whispered Ryan, his defenses vanishing for an instant. "It's my turn to be saved."
Toby nodded empathy filling his veins. "Are you ever going to tell him?"
"He's not a fa-" dumbly Ryan stared at Toby. "That's my response for everything. I'm not a fag, he's a fag, you're a fucking fag. Jesus." Ryan ran a hand back through his hair and turned away from Toby. "I've never said the words and meant it before." Ryan raised his stare to lock with Toby's. "Not out there. Not like, not like he makes me feel them."
"Just tell him." Advised Toby gently. "And whatever happens after that, let it happen."
"Oh yeah," smirked Ryan sarcasm dripping from his tongue. "That worked SO fucking well for you, didn't it?"
Toby could not help but laugh. "Somehow I don't see, Murphy as the type to break your arms for saying it. Your nose; maybe; but definitely not your arms."
Ryan's smile faded. "This can't come back on him, Beecher. If anyone needs to fall on this, it's me."
"Okay." Promised Toby hoping that the worst would not come to that.
Ryan sat upon his bunk, knees raised, his arms embracing his open legs and fingers laced near his ankles. He had been sitting like this for hours, his gaze staring at nothing, his thoughts a wash of possibilities, failures, desires, hurts and Murphy. The call for count went nearly unheeded if it were not for Cyril shaking him from his thoughts long enough for him to join the line of men waiting to return to their pods. Murphy arrived at the end of count, lights out not far behind, the consummation of their affections scheduled for mere hours later. Ryan stood at the pod face watching the CO carry out his responsibilities, longing to hear his voice breathing into his ear, the warmth of his hands upon his body, and the firmness of all that was Sean Murphy laying with him. Cyril was asleep now, the other residents of Em City not far behind, and still Ryan kept vigil.
Murphy swept his eyes up the pod face and locked gazes with Ryan. He could see the wash of thoughts drowning the younger male, yet what their content he could only guess. Concern drew Murphy's thin lips into a frown. Ryan was suffering, this much was clear. Murphy reached for the door release and Ryan slowly shook his head stunning Sean, then he slowly turned away from the door and moved further back into the pod. Shock numbing in Murphy's system he made his way up the second tier staircase, and once he reached the O'Reily pod, he saw Ryan was curled up on his side facing the wall, dark eyes peering down the length of the mattress at the CO. Sean felt his gaze more then he saw it, the flashlight remained in his belt, and Murphy gestured with his open palms, holding them out from his sides ever so slightly. Silent question issued, Ryan drew his legs closer to his body, his knees blocking his face from view, and Murphy's heart sank to the floor, anguish quick to flood his system.
Ryan slowly wiped the tears from his cheeks once Murphy had gone.
Murphy sat at the kitchen table, the early morning hours fading around him approaching noon, the bottle of Jack Daniels and glass his only companions. Brutal; that is how his work shift could be best described. His chest ached, his heart tattered, and spirit crushed. What in the hell was Ryan doing? What the fuck did he think he was accomplishing by pushing Sean away like this? Why did it have to hurt so badly that he didn't want to breathe anymore? Murphy closed his eyes, his fingers cold upon the liquor glass that held no more answers then he did.
A week passed feeling more like a year to Ryan and Murphy. Each night that passed Ryan remained locked in his pod, and Murphy chained to his job. They had not spoken a word to one another, the only eye contact made in error as each man observed the other from a distance. Externally Ryan portrayed the play he had always been, yet within he withdrew further and further away from the surface. The nights were torture. While he knew Murphy was mere yards away, Ryan resisted; Beecher could be right: someone was watching to see if a pattern emerged. Ryan would be damned if he would supply them with ammunition; a handful of nights did not suspicion bring. The cool surface of the Plexiglas against his face brought Ryan back to the moment: Murphy was staring at him, eyes pleading, anguish wearing his features and forcing his shoulders downward. Closing his eyes Ryan felt his courage breached, and slowly he nodded, eyes pried open by his tears.
The pod seal hissed, and Ryan pushed the door open and made his way towards the stairs. Murphy was not waiting at their foot, and Ryan could see him heading in the direction of the room Ryan had once believed was sanctuary for them both. Ryan closed the door behind him looking at Murphy, who stood like a warrior that was the last man standing on the battlefield. His hack gear was still in place the uniform separating them more then the passage of time.
"We were risking too much."
"Excuse me?" snarled Murphy, bitterness apparent. "We?"
"You." Ryan wore his game face, his heartbeat thundering in protest. "Every night is dangerous."
"Someone see us?" Ryan dropped his gaze. "Who?"
"Just Beecher." Ryan raised his head. "That I know of."
"So your solution was to stay away?"
Anger flashed across Ryan's features. "What the fuck was I SUPPOSED to do, Sean? This is your fucking life."
"This," shouted Murphy pointing to his chest with his splayed fingers. "Is a fucking JOB. Not my life: THAT, is you!"
Ryan exhaled in scoffing bitterness and stepped forward, knocking the finger Murphy pointed at him in emphasis down. "And so they kill you to get to me-Fuck you, Sean, I'm not losing you because of the shit I've done! I don't want to see you die here!"
Any rage that Murphy harbored vanished at these words. "Like I'm going to see you?" Ashamed, Ryan looked away. "Ryan," Murphy reached out and touched Ryan's shoulders, not discouraged when the younger male struck his hand away. In retaliation he held Ryan by both shoulders instead of one. "I made a choice when I fell in love with you. I know you're here for the rest of your life, and nothing I can do will change that. Whatever type of life we can have, I want. Love isn't about convenience it's about loyalty that revolves around faith. You know the saying you can't help who you love? You can't, but you can control HOW you love."
"What if-"
"Those don't matter." Sean took a step forward and pleaded gently with Ryan. "We'll take days off in between, or figure something else out; but a week, Ryan? I can't-"
"I thought it was the only way."
"I was afraid you had changed your mind."
"God, Sean. It's all I've wanted." Assured Ryan reaching to unbuckle the utility belt prompting Murphy to pull the radio mic off of his shoulder. "Do we have time?"
"We're going to make it." Promised Sean leaning into a kiss.
They undressed one another slowly each article of clothing's removal punctuated by impassioned kisses and roaming touches. Where Ryan's chest was devoid of all hair, Sean's wasn't, and Ryan found the contrast unexpectedly pleasing. He combed his fingers along the length of torso, his hand dipping towards Sean's pelvis, before reversing track and sliding his palms along the bare flesh of Sean's back. At some point Ryan couldn't discern they had made it to the bed, Sean settling upon Ryan. Full nudity and physical sex was something Ryan hadn't experienced in many years, let alone with someone he truly loved. Sean's caressing was confident but tender, and Ryan knew without a doubt that Sean wanted him to know the heights of pleasure, and thus far, neither one of them could be disappointed.
"I want to know what it's like." Panted Ryan, his neck arched straight as Sean caressed his throat with tongue and teeth, sending shivers rocketing down Ryan's spine. He held on tightly to Sean, the inside of his thighs locked against Sean's hips, legs weak with the sensation of Murphy's left hand stroking his cock. Concentration nearly impossible, Ryan clawed his fingertips down Sean's back. "Jesus, fuck me, Sean."
Sean raised his head and kissed Ryan, forcing himself to release Ryan's cock and caress his hip instead. "Hey," he soothed searching Ryan's gaze for comprehension. "With us, it's not fucking: It's love."
"Whatever," groaned Ryan grinding himself upward into Sean's body. "I need you in me. I want to know what you feel like."
"Okay." Promised Sean kissing Ryan gently. "Let me get what we'll need."
The cold air that blasted across Ryan's flesh at Sean's abrupt absence pained him, and he felt his heart lodge into his throat. "Is it going to hurt?"
"No. It's going to feel strange, but that doesn't last long." Informed Sean retrieving the lubricated condoms from his dress slacks. Returning to sit on the bed, he touched Ryan's face. "I'm not going to hurt you, Ryan. I love you."
"I know, but-" Ryan swallowed. "What if I don't like it?"
"Then we don't do this. There's more to sex then just penetration." Recognition churning in Sean's mind, he stroked a hand back through Ryan's hair. "And if you do like it, it just means that being with me feels good." Ryan nodded, accepting Sean's placation of his ego and he relaxed. "The easiest first time position is on all fours. You gonna be okay with that?"
Wickedly Ryan smiled. "Not the first time I'll be compared to a dog." Ryan sat up, his gaze dropping to Sean's hands opening the foil package. "You want me to help with that?"
"Two's always more fun then just one." Together they sheathed Sean's cock in the prophylactic, Ryan gnawed upon Sean's shoulder and throat impatiently, hurrying the process along.
"On your knees, Baby." Instructed Sean, his hands shaking in anticipation as Ryan complied.
Ryan tensed feeling one palm sliding upon his lower back, the fingers of the other wedging gently between his ass cheeks. He swallowed, the icy chill of lubrication applied to his rectum. Ryan gasped, arching his back towards the ceiling as Sean pressed his finger against Ryan's opening, the flesh resistant but powerless to prevent entry. "Fff-UCK!"
"You okay?" One finger inside, and Sean could feel his cock ache in longing to replace it. Ryan moaned, encouraging Sean to work the hole slowly with his finger, urging it to widen. "Let me know if you need me to stop." Head spinning, Ryan doubted he could form the words if he had to. Jesus fucking CHRIST, why hadn't anyone told him how incredible this could feel? Ryan never wanted Sean to stop, he wanted him to continue forward forever. At the intrusion of the second finger, Ryan's right wrist popped as he tried to grab a handful of the mattress, his elbow jarring in collapse for a split second before he was able to recover. Moaning loudly he begged Sean to continue what he was doing to urge him to abandon the finger play and just use his cock. "We can't rush this, Ryan. I promised you; no pain."
"Fuck your promise, I want you!" hissed Ryan, growling in blinding need.
"Trust me, Baby. You're getting me." Timeless seconds passed, Ryan writhing at Sean's mercy and alternated between cursing and praising him. Sean scissored his fingers sending Ryan into orbit, thus signaling that the time had come, and holding Ryan's ass cheeks apart with one hand, Murphy guided his cock to Ryan's hole with the other. "Tell me when to stop..."
Ryan could not breathe let alone talk at the breaching of his rectum. Sean's incremental crawl forward lodged all sound within Ryan's throat, and ceased all thoughts inside of his head. The impalement continued until Ryan felt some muscle loosen and give way, as Murphy rested gently upon his back. White light receded as pleasure consumed him drawing vocal moans from the depths of his soul when Sean began his gentle thrusts. Ryan absorbed the rhythm, countering it for friction, as everything but his full body faded into the sidelines. Prostate, temperature, friction and emotion consumed Ryan whole, his muscles liquefying beneath Sean's expert touch, the need to orgasm paramount to life itself. Murphy's hand barely pushed between his thighs and touched his cock, then Ryan came shouting Sean's name and falling forward upon his elbows. As the pleasure of the orgasm faded the sensation of Sean's cock inside of him filled the void left by ejaculation. His moans became more frequent and matched Sean's every thrust. If Sean stopped Ryan decided he would kill him, and if Sean didn't stop soon, Ryan was certain he would die: But what a fucking way to go.
Sean's own orgasm erupted seconds later, and disengaging from Ryan as his cock deflated, Sean gently pulled the younger male over onto his side with him. Panting he pulled Ryan into his arms, knowing that as soon as his head stopped spinning he would be able to speak. "You okay, Ryan?"
"I can't fucking move."
"So, does that mean you're fine or not?"
Ryan couldn't help but laugh, the sound rich and husky from the aftermath of sex. "I can still feel you."
"Is that a problem?"
"No." Sighed Ryan rolling over to face Sean's profile as the CO rested upon his back. "I want more."
"There's more." Assured Sean reaching out and touching a hand to Ryan's stomach. He smiled as Ryan pushed himself up on an elbow and leaned down to kiss him. Ryan's hand moved to Sean's flaccid cock and removed the used condom. "Anything you want, I'll give you."
Ryan shook his head. "I don't want to get, I wanna give." Hungrily Sean kissed Ryan, loosing himself in the world they had created.
Go to next part.