Chapter Seven

 

Alfie tapped his knuckles to Nate’s door with a smile growing on his lips.

“How are you this morning, Freshman?”

He shrugged and ticked off Nate’s name. “Can’t complain. I’ve just spoken to Queenie, after all.”

Nate tutted, and Alfie rubbed his mouth to halt his laugh.

“I was wondering, Freshman, what do you drink?”

Alfie frowned. “Why do you want to know?”

“If I met you at a pub and asked to buy you a drink, I wondered what you’d pick, that’s all.”

Alfie opened his mouth to reply, but Nate got there first.

“Please say it’s not one of those alcopops, or flavored cider.”

A flash of humiliation struck Alfie’s cheeks. They were his preferred drinks, and only consumed in the safety of his home.

“I would decline your offer and move along the bar,” Alfie muttered.

Nate laughed. “No, you wouldn’t. You would blush and say something stupid like, ‘whatever you’re having’, and I’d get a whiskey, and watch as you knocked yours back with a gasp and splutter.”

The blush on Alfie’s face intensified. The first time he had whiskey he had done just as Nate described. Whiskey was as pleasant as swallowing a lit match.

“I’d rub your back until you stopped spluttering, and you’d try to flee in embarrassment, but I wouldn’t let you. I’d wipe the sticky whiskey off your lips with my thumb and bring it to my mouth to taste. It would taste sweet. I’d need more and would forget about my thumb and taste the whiskey on your lips with mine.”

The clank of the gate woke Alfie from the fantasy, and his eyelashes fluttered when he reopened them. He hadn’t even realized he had closed his eyes, wasn’t aware that he had leaned against the cell door, ear as close to Nate’s voice as he could get.

Alfie straightened and blanked his mind of any lust. “I would push you away and call security.”

He turned to walk away, but Nate spoke again, voice no longer his low drawl, but normal.

“I’ve got something for you,” Nate said by the top hinge.

Alfie leaned closer with his eyebrow raised. “I’m not opening the hatch.”

“You don’t have to.”

Alfie bent down when he heard crinkling paper. Nate slipped it through the gap in the hatch, and Alfie caught it before it fell to the grated walkway. He unfolded the paper and swallowed hard at the pencil sketch of himself. No longer lipless, and not just of his face. He was laying down in the picture, his shirt was open, his tie loosened and askew, and his wrists were tied with something thin above his head. Shoelaces, his brain supplied. Again, there was no color to the picture, but the shading on his cheeks hinted at a blush, and the shine to his lips suggested they were wet. It was a sexualized picture of himself, and he didn’t know what to say, or how to feel. Equal levels of unease and curiosity ran through his mind, and he didn’t know whether his crotch throbbed with interest or fear.

Alfie wetted his lips, thankful Nate couldn’t see his turmoil. “What’s this?”

“As you can see, Freshman, I didn’t know how your torso looks, whether you have muscles, whether you have body hair, dark or light nipples.”

All he had noticed was his bound hands and compliant face. He looked again and noticed unlike the rest of the picture, there was no detail to his chest. It was blank.

“Why give it to me?” he asked.

“I needed your help. To fill in the blanks.”

Alfie breathed heavily through his nose and shook his head.

“Does it unnerve you, seeing yourself tied up and helpless, and knowing that’s how I see you, how I want to see you? If our little pub fantasy played out, this is how I’d want it to end.”

Alfie pressed the picture to the clipboard and added his own detail. He drew three saggy boobs, hanging down to his belly button, then he folded it in two and shoved it back through the door.

“There you go. I’ve filled in the blanks.”

Alfie heard Nate unfold the paper and laugh lightly. He turned to leave, but Nate’s voice tugged him back.

“So how does it work with your boyfriends?”

Alfie frowned at Nate’s door. “What do you mean?”

“Do they share you, one has you first and then the other?”

A fierce blush grew in Alfie’s cheeks, and he swallowed. “Something like that…”

“What do they look like?”

“Why’d you wanna know?”

Nate hummed into the gap of the door. “Want to see if you’ve got a type.”

Alfie closed his eyes and created an opposite of Nate in his mind. “Black hair, brown eyes, slim build...”

“Both of them?”

“Yeah, they’re both my type. That’s what I’m into.”

Nate laughed. “You’re trying too hard, Freshman. We both know there are no boyfriends, and if there were, they should be worried. You flirt with me like you’re single.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Maybe it’s ‘cause you know I can give you what your imaginary boyfriends can’t.”

Alfie scrunched his face and took a step back from Nate’s cell.

Nate laughed into the door, and a chill wrapped around Alfie’s neck. A scarf of cold that left him feeling exposed and vulnerable. He was the one with the keys on his hip, the one who would leave the prison in a few hours, but Nate’s smug voice told him otherwise. Even with him blinded by the cell door, Nate could see straight through him.

He distanced himself from the smirking, but still felt the prickle of unease at home hours later. He stared through his living room window at the sign for Larkwood, forever reminding him of Nate, of the prison, and the caged feeling that had infused to his bones. He growled, staggered up from the sofa and tugged the curtains shut.

“Damn you!” he hissed, then trundled up the stairs for sleep.

****

It didn’t just rain but poured down on Alfie as he walked toward the prison. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and occasional flashes lit up the sky. The day had been a hot one, but Alfie had missed it. Like some nocturnal creature he rarely saw the sun. The air smelled of hot pavement, and the drops hissed as they struck the concrete. The drains couldn’t cope with the onslaught. Water bubbled from them, making channels along the edges of the road. The humidity left him feeling sticky and itchy, and he longed to be in the forever cool prison interior.

Alfie recognized Marie’s car, but she didn’t pull up and offer him a ride. She splashed through a puddle that narrowly avoided him. He didn’t know if that was her intention, but he stared bitterly at her fading car, hoping his evil stare would ignite it.

By the time he reached the prison, his trousers were soaked and his coat was damp around the collar. He shook his hair like a wet dog and shivered his way toward the radiator.

“It’s raining,” Henry said.

Alfie gestured to himself. “You don’t say.”

He shrugged his jacket off and flopped it on the back of a chair. The collar of his shirt was damp, but apart from that, his top half had avoided the rain. His legs on the other hand were drenched. He pinched the material away from his leg with a grimace.

“There are some spares in the lockers. Get some now before Ryan briefs us.”

Alfie huffed, then nodded and walked through the several gates to get to reception. A rumble of thunder growled overhead, and he watched as the lights twinkled then recovered.

He grabbed the first pair of trousers in his size and gave them a sniff. They smelled stale, but not unclean. He turned at the tap to his shoulder.

Marie stood smiling brightly. “I would’ve given you a lift if I saw you.”

Alfie smiled tightly. “Next time maybe.”

She nodded. “Come on, Ryan will chew you out for being late.”

Alfie sighed and followed her with the trousers flung over his shoulder. Ryan droned on longer than normal, as if he knew that Alfie was desperate to change. None of his words sunk in. Alfie was too preoccupied with his uncomfortable clothing. The trousers were heavy against his skin, and a deep ache settled in his limbs, adding to his misery.

“You listening, Rookie?”

Alfie snapped his eyes to Ryan and nodded. He inwardly prayed Ryan wouldn’t ask him to repeat his last words like a child.

“Yes, I’m listening.”

Ryan narrowed his eyes. “Good.”

Ryan stared at him for a few tense seconds, then started talking again. He was a man that clearly liked the sound of his own voice. All his observations of the day shift could have been condensed down to five minutes, but instead he repeated himself and recapped everything he said. He waited for each growl of thunder to subside, eyes raised to the swinging ceiling light, then huffed and continued.

Alfie shot a look at Henry and noticed he looked more alert than usual. His glasses weren’t held tightly in his hand, but still in his top pocket.

Ryan clapped his hands together, a signal that his briefing had finally finished.

When Ryan finally faded from view, Alfie rushed toward the toilets with the trousers cradled to his chest. He finished climbing into them, just as the door next to his swung open and clattered against the wall. He heard the squelch of a sloppy kiss, followed by a wailed name—Glen.

Alfie rushed from the toilet, rubbing at his ears to rid himself of the disturbing tone of Marie’s voice. She sounded beyond needy, and the noises their mouths made reminded him of gorging zombies.

“What’s up with you, fish? Look like you seen a ghost.”

He shook his head. “Not seen one, but it sounded like one. In the toilets.”

Henry raised his patchy eyebrows. “Oh, they’ve sorted things out.”

“Apparently.”

He hung his soaked trousers on the radiator and itched his neck where the damp collar rubbed. Alfie frowned when Henry didn’t immediately put on his glasses. He stood in the center of the room, repeatedly rocking from his heels to his toes with his hand linked behind his back.

“Something up?” Alfie asked.

Henry raised an eyebrow. “Were you not listening to Ryan? Nate will be along shortly.”

Alfie swallowed awkwardly, and Henry wagged his finger. “Exactly. I can’t relax either when I know that evil man’s not in his cell.”

“Where is he?”

“Skype call with his dear old Doris. He should be along soon.”

Alfie nodded at his lap, then began his own repetitive motion. He filled the silence by picking nervously at his nails. Henry looked at him but didn’t comment. The lights of the prisoner flickered, and their gazes snapped to each other.

“We don’t want the power cutting out before he’s in his cell,” Henry muttered, “Where the hell are they...”

A gate clunked, followed by another, and they both turned their attention to the biggest, most secure gate that led into the lobby. Nate came into view. He stared through the window of the office and pinned Alfie in his chair. He couldn’t even continue his obsessive nail nipping. The corner of Nate’s mouth lifted in a smile, and he narrowed his eyes slightly. It was the third time he had seen Nate in the flesh, and the sight of him robbed the air from Alfie’s chest and the moisture from his mouth.

“You’re right to be nervous,” Henry muttered.

Two prison offices walked in Nate’s wake, and when they caught sight of Henry their faces sagged with relief.

“You two can handle him.”

Henry bobbed his head. “Had a feeling you’d say that.” He walked out the office first and exchanged small talk with the two guards.

Nate stayed by the door, eyes unblinking and smile growing. He wore another tight t-shirt, and his arms were secured at his back.

Alfie swallowed awkwardly and got to his feet. He moved with forced confidence toward Nate, but the bigger man smirked at Alfie’s attempt.

Alfie squeezed past him, took two steps to the gate to H-wing, and then the building shook with the rumble of thunder. The vibrations were felt deep in his chest, and all of the officers looked up to the blinking light. Alfie felt Nate’s eyes still on him.

“Not scared of a little thunder are we,” Nate mumbled.

Alfie turned back to the gate, shoved his key inside, then all went dark. He pulled the key out without unlocking the gate and shoved it into his pocket.

Alfie blinked in the darkness of the lobby but couldn’t make out the shapes. The shock of the situation had all of them falling silent, and it was Henry that finally broke it.

“You got a hold of Nate?” he asked.

Alfie stuck his hand out, and he slapped a muscular chest. Nate didn’t make any noise, and he didn’t move beneath Alfie’s hand. He allowed Alfie to wipe his hand across his chest and grip his bicep.

“Yeah, I’ve got him.”

“The backup generator will be on any minute,” one of the guards said. “Don’t do anything stupid, Nate. Just stay there.”

There was a quiver in the guard’s voice that unsettled Alfie. They were afraid, whether for him or themselves, he didn’t know. He had hold of Nate’s arm, and the muscle flexed beneath his fingers, hard, solid muscle that pulsed his fingers as hard as he pulsed the muscle back.

Nate’s shoe bumped into his, and Alfie shivered at the heat radiating from the wall of flesh in front. Nate was closer than seconds ago, leaning into Alfie’s personal space. He could smell him, a dark smoky scent, manly and forbidden, but he dangled close, tempting Alfie to take a breath of him deep into his lungs, and he couldn’t ignore it.

His eyes slid shut and he breathed deep, sucking the warm scent inside him. It soothed his weary limbs, and he found himself melting into the gate behind him.

Nate moved with him, pushing his chest flush to Alfie’s. He wasn’t crushing, but Alfie could barely breathe, stuck between Nate and the metal bars digging into his back.

“Nate,” he said breathlessly.

“You okay, Fish? You got hold of him?”

He nodded, and his face brushed bristles. Nate’s face was next to his, Nate’s chest was touching his, and his manly scent was taking over the smell of his damp hair and stale trousers. Alfie’s lips popped open, and he panted for the thinning air.

The feeling of bristles on his face vanished, and he jerked at the first touch to his neck. Not fingers, it couldn’t be fingers. There was soft center to the facial hair, and Alfie realized Nate’s mouth brushed him. Not a kiss, just a touch, a touch that ignited pleasant tingles down to his toes.

He leaned back and surrendered himself. Nate’s open mouth skimmed along his face, ghosting his open mouth.

Nate paused. Lips touched lips but with no pressure, and Alfie breathed through his mouth, taking the air from Nate and claiming it as his own.

He could only breathe through Nate, draw what he had into himself to keep upright and conscious. Alfie’s head spun, made worse by the darkness and his drumming heart.

Nate’s lips moved away, and he tried to follow until they pressed into the shell of his ear.

“Freshman,” Nate whispered, so softly Alfie was sure he had imagined the words, assumed Nate said them like all the other times.

Nate’s lips hovered by his jugular, and Alfie thought about the blood rushing through him. The blood he could hear in his ears along with his exaggerated breathing. Nate could sink his teeth in, rip through his flesh and kill him after his easy seduction. Even though the thought registered, Alfie didn’t straighten or shuffle along the gate. He shivered at the nip to his neck, and the one to his jaw.

Instead of moving away from Nate’s teeth, he found himself angling his head and neck for Nate to nip more. Never hard enough to puncture skin, not enough to hurt, just a gentle pressure of teeth, and each bite increased Alfie’s heart rate, drove him closer to hyperventilating. His skin tingled, and each touch from Nate sent a spark of sensitivity coursing under his skin. The blood in his body felt hotter, and it pooled in his groin.

“Oi!” Henry shouted.

Alfie lurched forward at the shout. “Yeah?”

“The generator is starting up.”

Nate took an audible step back, stomping his feet more than necessary, as if letting Alfie know for sure he had backed off.

Alfie straightened, rubbed a palm down his face, and stared into the darkness. The lights buzzed noisily, then lit the space with their dulled glow.

Alfie couldn’t look toward the three guards, and he couldn’t look at Nate. He turned away and stared at the floor. Nate didn’t move from in front of him, even when Henry moved closer. Nate stood still, shielding Alfie with his bulky body.

Alfie felt exposed, and the barrier that stood between him and three curious pairs of eyes was the man that had made him vulnerable, and confused.

“Fish?”

There wasn’t a word that could make him lose his erection faster than that one. He shuffled, angled his hips away from Henry, and inwardly counted to ten.

“Yeah, ‘m fine,” he mumbled.

Alfie shifted along the gate, and Henry unlocked it with his set of keys. He flicked his head at the open space, and Alfie hurried through with Nate shadowing his movements.

“Slow down, Fish!”

He ignored Henry’s shout. He needed to be away from the curious gazes of the guards, needed to distance himself from Nate even though logically he knew he was separating the two of them from Henry. He galloped up the steps, and Nate did the same.

They paused outside the cell and listened to the wheeze of Henry as he climbed up after them.

Nate took a step nearer, and Alfie took one away. He still couldn’t make eye contact with Nate and instead stared at his clenching jaw, stared at the lines of his neck as it pulled tight. He didn’t know the expression Nate wore. He imagined him smirking, but no noise travelled to his ears.

“I got your blush wrong,” Nate said slowly.

Alfie forced his gaze high and was immediately caught in the trap of Nate’s eyes. They were darker than Alfie had ever seen them, and the intensity in the look made him shiver. He didn’t just feel stripped by the stare but tied down, chained, at Nate’s mercy.

Nate wetted his lips, and his eyes roamed Alfie’s face. Then they settled on his tingling mouth. Alfie had sunk his teeth into the soft flesh and only realized when Nate did.

Alfie took another step away from Nate, and subtly leaned over the railing to check if Henry was close by.

“The apples of your cheeks blush, but it goes farther, down to your jaw.”

Alfie dropped his gaze and shook his head. “Stop it.”

“Stop what?”

Alfie shuffled. “Making me feel stupid … for—for that.”

“I’m not trying to make you feel stupid.”

Henry puffed into view and coughed into his tissue. Then he moved to the cell door and unlocked it with a clunk.

“Get inside,” he said.

“I want Alfie to pat me down,” Nate said carefully.

Alfie blushed furiously and took another step back. Nate wasn’t done humiliating him for his reaction.

Henry huffed. “No, just get in the cell.”

Nate breathed deep and released his breath slowly. Alfie raised his head and saw Nate staring fiercely at Henry. He may have been old, almost knocked to the ground by Nate’s exhale, but he didn’t bow to him.

“Inside, now.”

Nate walked forward, and Henry unclipped his hands. Then he slammed the door shut loud enough to wake everyone in the prison.

“Evil,” he muttered, then turned to Alfie. He nodded, and a few seconds later Alfie nodded back. They walked back down the stairs in silence, and the mute atmosphere only broke when Henry closed the office door behind them.

“He didn’t do anything to you, did he?”

Alfie shook his head. “No…”

Henry rubbed at his chin. “It’s just the thought though, just knowing you can’t see what he’s doing, that he might catch you unaware.”

It wasn’t that at all, but Alfie nodded anyway.

“You handled that well. I wouldn’t have liked being close to him when the lights went out.”

Alfie scratched the back of his head. “Think maybe Glen can do the top level at roll call?”

Henry bobbed his head. “I think that’s a good idea.”