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Alone Together

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He's not sure what the worst part is about being in solitary, whether it's the dark or the quiet that gets to him more. He's been holding onto the bars, just to keep himself oriented, and every tiny sound he didn't make has him straining to find the source.

Right now he's trying to figure out if he's still alone down here. A while ago there was noise, the guards shuffling through, and it sounded like they were bringing along someone who was resisting. But nobody said anything, and Sen had enough pride left not to call out and ask for answers.

There's a little cloth rustling sound, and a clink, metal touching metal. He knows he didn't move. "Hello?" Sen says.

"Hey, Sen," a low voice answers, from somewhere off to the right. He'd know that voice anywhere.

"Sword."

"You miss me?" Swordfish asks. "Or are the guards giving it to you when you get too lonely?"

Sen spits. "No and no," he says. "How long has it been?"

Sword laughs. "Not long enough for them to let you out yet. You want more of an answer than that, you gotta do something for me."

Sen doesn't curse, mostly because he thinks Sword probably wants him to. Every decision he's made since he got to UGH has been a choice between bad and worse. "Not much I can do for you like this," he says.

"Sure there is." He must have answered wrong, Sen thinks. Sword sounds way too pleased. "You can let me hear you."

For someone who says he's not a fag, Sword sure is into him. But Sen knows better than to say that out loud, right now. He's been going crazy down here, in the dark and the silence, and Sword is at least better than no company at all. "What do you want to hear?"

"They leave you cuffed when you got down here?" Sword asks.

Wait, they do that? "No," Sen says. Maybe that's what the clinking sound is from Sword's cell, though -- cuffs he's still wearing, even in lockdown.

"Good." More shifting noises. "Take your pants off."

"It's cold down here, Sword."

No answer.

"Son of a bitch," Sen mutters. "You don't give any ground at all, do you?" Still no answer until he gets up, and the sound of him pushing his pants down off his hips is easy to hear in the quiet.

"You know I don't," Sword says then. "Now put your fingers in your mouth. Let me hear you sucking."

Sen's face feels hot. But this is a hell of a lot more interesting than counting his own heartbeats until he loses track, or wondering when he's going to get fed again. He sticks two fingers in his mouth and starts sucking on them, making a little noise around them. His fingers taste like metal, from all that time hanging onto the bars. They're rough in his mouth, callused, the edges of his nails sharp. Sword's cock is a lot bigger, harder on his jaw, but he thinks he likes it better anyway. He hopes he doesn't have to say that out loud.

"Sounds like you missed me real bad," Sword says. "Fucking hot, listening to you make those little slut noises with your mouth full." When Sen takes a breath, he can hear Sword moving, too, tiny shifting sounds. "You know what I'm going to say next, don't you?"

"Mm-hmm," Sen says. Only one good reason for Sword to want his pants off when they're like this.

Sword growls. "Tell me. You can take 'em out now. They're good and wet, right? What do you think I want you to do with 'em?"

Sen's fingers slip from his mouth. "Stick them up my ass," he says. They feel cold against the air, now that they're wet, but spit won't last long in dry air like this. He leans his shoulders against the cell wall and braces his legs spread apart.

"That's right," Sword says. "Do it." His voice sounds a little rougher than before, a little raw, like he'd be over here if he could.

Sen reaches back, slides his fingers into the crack of his ass. He gets enough things stuffed up there often enough lately -- it's not so hard for him to push, twisting his wrist, and slide his own fingers up his ass. He hisses a little, though, because it's always weird to get filled up at first. Even when he wants it. Even when he does it to himself.

"How's it feel?" Sword asks. It sounds like he's jerking off, flesh sliding on flesh.

"Weird," Sen says. "Hot. Tight. I can't get my fingers in really deep." He's getting hard, and he thinks it's probably less for the fact that he's fingerfucking himself than for the fact that he's telling Sword about it. How did he get so shameless?

Sword makes another one of those low growling noises, and Sen's cock twitches. "Not enough, huh? It'd be better with my cock up there instead of your fingers. You jerking off yet?"

"No," Sen says. He bites his lip. If he was, it would mean he wanted this. And maybe he does, but he has his pride.

Sword doesn't let it go. "You hard?"

"Yeah," Sen admits. It doesn't occur to him to lie until a few second too late. His cock is heavy between his legs, stiff, aching.

"Do it, then," Sword tells him. "Slow. Slow like you want me to fuck you."

Doing it means agreeing with the things Sword says about it. Sen almost holds out. Just on principle. But the idea that Sword is sitting there in the dark, listening for it -- that's hot. Sen curls his other hand around his cock.

"Tell me how it feels," Sword says. There's a clinking sound again, like he's jerking off in handcuffs, and Sen moans.

"Fuck," he says. "You know it's -- feels good, I -- I'm fucking hard for it. Want to, god, want to get off."

Sword hums, low and rumbling. "You still playing with your ass?"

"Yeah," Sen says. He kind of is, at least. It's not easy to keep both hands moving enough, and he'd way rather focus on his cock, especially when he can't get deep enough to really make it feel like a good fuck.

"Ain't enough, is it?" Sword asks. "Got you used to my cock, no way a couple fingers gonna be enough for you. Let me hear you make noise."

Sen shudders. But it feels good, so he does, moaning while he plays with his cock, his fingers still up his ass as deep as they'll go. There's other noise, Sword moving, but Sen doesn't really pay close attention to it.

Until Sword says, way too close, "Now back up against the bars."

"Motherfucker," Sen says, going still. "You're not in lockdown at all."

"Did I say I was?" Sword asks. "Come on, come give me that sweet ass."

"What kind of bribes did you have to give the guard to get in here?" Sen asks. He's moving, though, feeling his way over to the bars, leaning against them instead of the wall.

"Maybe I just called in a favor," Sword answers. His hands are warm, reaching into the cell to find Sen's hips and pull him up close against the bars. Sen pulls his fingers free so his arm won't get trapped and hurt. "Least half this place owes me something."

Sen tries to laugh, but it falters when he feels something blunt and thick nudging into the crack of his ass. "All the shit you could be getting, and you're calling in favors to get my ass, huh?"

"Guess you're just a lucky little fag," Sword answers, and pushes. He's using one of the good rubbers, the ones that come out of the packet with lube already on them, but it still burns, thick and hard and deep all at once, and Sen hisses again. Sword's hands get a good hold on his hips, keeping his ass pressed right up against the bars. Sen keeps one hand on his cock, and reaches back to hang onto the bars with his other, just to hold himself steady.

Sword never goes easy on him, even when they mean to go slow, and there weren't any promises this time. Sen hangs on, jerking himself off fast and hard, moaning breathlessly every time Sword's cock slams in deep. He's going to be rubbed raw by the time Sword's done with him, and right now he doesn't care, tense and straining for it --

"Yeah, you wanna come now, don't you?" Sword asks. His voice is hoarse and growling. "Now that you're taking my cock?"

"Fuck," Sen says. "Yeah, I -- want to, you son of a bitch, like that, I'm -- aah -- fuck, don't stop --" He's shaking, his head bowed, ready -- so ready -- and then he's coming, moaning and shuddering and almost collapsing, his knees threatening to give out if it weren't for Sword's grip holding him steady.

Sword doesn't even slow down to let him catch his breath, fucking him right through it even when he's too sensitive to stand it afterward. Sen reaches back to hang onto the bars with both hands now, gritting his teeth, listening for Sword to make any noise at all, any sign that he's getting close. "Come on," he says, "come on, come on," clenching down deliberately, rocking into Sword's thrusts -- and when Sword comes at last he makes this little growling noise like he's won.

He doesn't pull out right away, just stays right there, breathing hard. After a minute Sen lets go of the bars and takes a step, easing his way out of Sword's grip and off his cock.

"How long?" Sen asks.

"Three days," Sword says. "Coming up on dinner time, the third day."

Sen shakes his head. "Shit." That means he's less than halfway through. He has four more days of this crap to look forward to, going crazy alone in the dark, before he goes back upstairs.

"If you're that hard up, I could come back tomorrow," Sword says. He sounds like he's smirking. Bastard.

"Yeah, don't waste all your favors or anything," Sen mutters. He can make it without any more of Sword's help.

"Heh." It sounds like Sword's cleaning up, stripping off the rubber, dropping it. "Maybe I'll come back, then." Footsteps, Sword walking away. "Wait up for me."