Chapter Nine #3
Much to everyone’s surprise, Jasper agrees. We set off walking, back to the row. And every step of the way, my heart is thumping…
We’re doing this.
We’re doing this.
Wait… Why are we doing this?
“Well, that was…” Luthor’s voice is raspier than usual as he sighs, “Crazy.”
“Uh, yea.” I’m vigorously chewing on my lower lip. I can’t seem to stop…
Maybe it’s because I’m trying not to focus on the salty taste of cum lingering on my tongue.
Cum that just so happens to belong to my two best friends.
It’s strange, but I can feel Ren’s in my stomach, and it’s making me all jittery.
He’s never been… inside me before.
Gulp.
How did we get here??
It’s all a blur, honestly.
I refuse to take responsibility for what just happened.
We’re blaming it on Ren. It’s all his fault.
“I had fun,” Ren chirps, as casual as ever. Permanently missing the awkwardness gene—the part of his brain dedicated to over-analyzing, and the receptors that dip your serotonin back down to normal levels when an orgasm wears off.
He’s forever up . Never down. It’s as fascinating as it is infuriating.
“What else is new?” Luthor grumbles, redressing and fixing himself up while I do the same. I’m much more visibly fidgety, but we won’t focus on that right now. “You weren’t supposed to be involved, remember?”
“You two weren’t doing it right,” Ren hums, reaching for Luthor, who yanks away from him. “I had no choice but to step in and sort you out.”
I scoff. “Everything’s always about you.”
He frowns up at me. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know damn well what it means,” I snap. “You couldn’t even let Luthor have his moment of getting back at you without stealing the show.” I peek at Luthor. “We should’ve made him stand outside the bars.”
Luth cracks a smile, but Ren is squinting at me. It binds my muscles with unease. I hate when he looks at me like that… It makes me feel like he can read my mind; see right into the vast expanse of secrets I’m keeping locked up in there.
It’s the same look I give him when I know he’s lying.
“Are you jealous now, Byron?” He smirks, cocking his head. My jaw clamps. “Because you wanted to be the star this time?”
“No,” I huff, sounding way too defensive to my own ear. “I’m not… I don’t…”
“Shhh.” Ren crawls to the edge of the bed, sticking his finger into the waist of my pants to tug me closer while I wriggle away. “No need to be so defensive, darling. We’re all friends here. And sometimes friends suck each other’s dicks. It happens.”
“You’re certifiable.” Luthor sighs.
“First and last time,” I growl with our eyes locked. “I assure you.”
He grins wickedly, tongue darting out to flick my lower lip. I grumble out of annoyance and shove him away from me by his throat. He tumbles back onto his bed, chuckling like the blue-eyed spawn of Satan he is.
Stomping and keys jingling most definitely mean Jasper has returned to bring us back where we belong. I’m actually glad. I need some time to myself right now.
He doesn’t bother cuffing us. Just opens the cell, shooting Luthor and me a bitchy look that says, Go . And we do, leaving the memory of a strange, ill-conceived threesome behind where it belongs. With Ren.
The beautiful, chaotic planet around which we all orbit.
“We’re good…” Luthor murmurs softly to me as we approach my cell, “Right?”
I glance up to find his light green eyes shimmering with concern.
“It’s not weird or anything…?”
“Bro, please.” I wave him off while Jasper opens my cell and I step inside. “I already forgot about it.”
Luthor smiles, and I give him a small one back, waiting until I’m sure he’s out of sight to let it slip off.
He’s so caring. Really, truly , just the best friend in the whole world, to all of us. We don’t deserve him. And for a moment, while I’m pacing around my cell, in the aftermath of a gay threesome I think I might have accidentally started , I wonder how he’d react if I told him the truth.
Maybe not all of it, but at least some.
That actually wasn’t my first time sucking a dick, Luthor…
I wasn’t completely straight before I got here. I’m not as ice-cold as I try to make it seem.
I’ve been in love before, I think…
I’ve done things I’m not proud of, but that I really enjoyed doing in the moment, and I think that’s why I keep doing them. Becoming someone else when no one’s looking feels… really fucking good.
Being my true self in the dark is what keeps me from losing my mind.
The thing is, I know Luthor , of all people, wouldn’t judge me. He doesn’t judge anyone. He’s good like that. Just a supportive, all-around awesome dude who wouldn’t bat an eye if I told him I think I’m… something else . Something other than what I’ve been claiming to be.
But it doesn’t matter. Because I can’t tell him. I can’t tell anyone.
They wouldn’t understand, because I barely understand it myself. And it’s no one’s business.
Yea. It’s no one’s goddamn business what I did in the past, or what I choose to do with my free time. Who says friends have to tell each other everything, anyway?? What would that even accomplish?
I like having secrets. I like keeping them stashed away deep in the hollowed-out cement box of my heart.
Head. In. The. Game.
Plopping down in my bed, I reach behind the mattress, feeling around for my stash spot. I move the big chunk of concrete aside, stuffing my hand into the wall until I feel leather.
Flipping the pages of my journal, looking for the next free page, I stop on my last entry… And the sheer enormity of seeing such intense, staggering truths written out on paper has my pulse thumping faster and faster, a chill of dreadful excitement creeping up my spine.
These are things no one knows… Things I’d never dream of speaking out loud to anyone, not even my best friends. But they’re here , in this small leather-bound journal that was given to me as a welcome gift.
I still wonder why me… I wonder it every time I hold this book in my hands.
Why would he give this to me , of all people? What is it about me that warranted such a gift? That warranted a gift at all …
I didn’t have to use it. And for a while, I had no desire to.
I’ve never been a writer, mainly because I never had a story to tell.
But after some time passed— I think around a year or so —I realized that maybe I do have something to say.
A lot of somethings, in fact… Piling up inside me, desperate for an escape.
Maybe that’s why…
Clearly, they won’t be coming out of my mouth. I write in this book because I have to… Otherwise the secrets might eat me alive.
My fingers run over the words on the page. Another secret spilled like droplets of blood…
“Let me touch you,” I growled into his ear.
“No.”
“That wasn’t a request.”
Slapping the notebook shut, I take a deep breath, closing my eyes and counting to ten.
Some are obviously worse than others…
Blinking, I look around, reacquainting myself with reality. The good news is that I’m still here, sitting in my cell alone, not in some twisted, drug-induced hallucination. The bad news is that my dick is hard from reading that little passage… Which is always confusing.
Hey, whatever, right? As far as I’m concerned, it’s like getting a boner from reading fiction.
Hot, slutty, gay fiction…
No big deal.
Except that it’s not fiction, no matter how desperately I wanted to believe that one instance in particular was a dream. What happened the night the power went out…
Rubbing my eyes, I curl up in bed and allow myself to sink for a moment. What am I doing, man?? I’m out here acting like a…
Like…
Jesus Christ, I’m acting like Ren.
Glancing up at the mattress above, I cringe, stomach rolling in disgust with myself. I cover my head with my pillow, growling and whining into it.
I’m severely fucked up. That’s the only explanation. And now I’m terrified that my friendships will suffer for this. Denial is all well and good, but it can only work for so long…
Ren’s words from earlier replay in my head. “You’re not a wedge, love… You’ve been keeping us together.”
My heart swells, and I hate that it does. I don’t want to rely on being a part of them to give me validation. Like my only reason for existence in here is to be the stone they step on to get where they need to go.
But if not that, then… what?
The warrior, the friend, the proxy, the shadowman…
What’s my purpose? Who am I, really??
Regardless, I just can’t be the prison slut. We already have one of those.
But my behaviors tell a different story. The one that’s written on those pages.
He ruined me. That’s what it is.
Even if it wasn’t his fault, he fucking broke me, and now I have no idea who I am or what I’m doing.
Emotion builds pressure behind my eyes. At first, I try to fight it. But it’s no use.
It’s alright… I’m alone again.
All… alone.
I can stop fighting, and no one will know. I can break down, if only right now…
Because in the shadows, no one sees me.
Word around the cellblock is that the storms have finally subsided, and it’s actually nice out.
I wouldn’t know. None of us have been outside in years at this point. I don’t even want to know what my vitamin D levels are at… Probably nonexistent.
There’s an abundance of D available in Alabaster Pen… But definitely not the kind you get from sunshine.
Still, I have to give credit where it’s due.
The mood around here has improved drastically over the last few weeks.
Not that it’s because we’re all sucking each other off all the time, because aside from that one occasion, it hasn’t happened again.
And not only did things not get weird, but it seems like we’ve found our groove again.
Nothing is perfect, of course. We’re in prison . But for the most part, everyone is doing okay.
Except for O’Malley. He’s still in the East, according to Dash, who saw him last.