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Beta'd by Erin.

Go Straight to Hell, Boy - part 3/17

by Ralu

Lights out again, but this time it's Beecher getting into his bunk, not at all ready to go to sleep...

He fucking hates this early nighty-night shit of Oz's routine, always has...and there's nobody to talk himself asleep to...the idiot snoring on the lower bunk is like something out of a fucking cartoon, dumber than any other podmate he's ever had...nothing at all to talk to him about.

Tried once, (and Toby can be very nice when he wants to...and most people do like talking to him, 'cause he's smart and knows how to give the impression he's actually listening and giving a shit...just like Chris, come to think of it) all he got was some Christian shit about *fags-goin'-to-hell* and not-so-Christian shit about Beecher *better-keep-away-from-him-or-get-shanked* (talk about full blown paranoia!) and that was the end of it.

Fuck it, is there *anybody* left in this fucking place that doesn't know about him and Keller, that doesn't automatically assume he's a fag wanting to jump on them any chance he gets?! Just another *Keller legacy*, I guess...

And he tries, he tries so hard to fall asleep, not to think about Keller, that look on his face, that pain...that sign of weakness.

And weakness is deadly in a place like this, he knows it, Keller knows it, but doesn't seem to care anymore...or he just can't hide it...anymore.

Remembers, like in a dream...Chris was there for him, when Gen died.

(--'Yeah, he was there alright, wanting to get inside you enough to fuck you up afterward...or maybe not because of that...not *just* because of that.'--)

And, no matter the real motives behind that, he still *was* there for him, giving him the support nobody - not Sister Pete, not his family - really could, helping him go through it all, the very first time he had felt like someone actually cared about him, understood him.

Maybe that was because Keller knew what that meant, losing someone like that, all the pain and the guilt and the loss...all the rage and helplessness that came along with it, Chris had already gone through it and knew it all too well.

Go to sleep, Toby, go to fucking sleep!

Stop thinking about it, stop wishing...cause he did feel like walking over to Keller in the cafeteria, if only for a moment, just to let him know that he's *there*, that he understands.

But he didn't. He won't. He can't. Because he knows, senses it, knows too well where that might lead, and he's not gonna do that dance again - doesn't want to, in actual fact. Yeah, he loved him, it's not that easy to go past that, to just ignore it. But things have changed, Toby's changed.

And Keller and his pain aren't his priority anymore. Can't be.

And that mean voice in his head: 'Going to hell again, Chris?! You sure are going to hell, and going *through* hell right the fuck now, and you deserve it. Fucking lying back-stabbing cunt! Hope it burns and hurts just as much as you remember it.'

Still, the man was there for you when you needed someone to be...and now he's all alone. Nobody giving a shit. Not in this place.


And the same night, *upstairs*, Schillinger's tossing and turning in his bunk, not quite able to get any goddamn sleep whatsoever! Punching his pillow, silently cursing the ugly fuck (oh, yeah, that's his name alright!) starting to snore beneath him (and yes! he snores), his head filled with thoughts going round and round like a fucking record player.

Keller's really messed up, otherwise what's with those weird looks he keeps throwing at him lately? Fuck! He doesn't ever look up at Beecher anymore, but keeps fucking staring at Vern any chance he gets - what's that all about?

(--'Or, maybe you're imagining things, Vern, you know, *fantasies*!'--)

Oh, fuck off!

The last thing he'd want right now would be having that sorry-ass slut down on his knees, sucking his cock every time Vern thinks he wants him to!...

But, still, that look on his face, like he's all *lost* again and shit, just like way back in Lardner, those eyes...what?

Begging?! And for what exactly? A way out? Of what? And by what means?

Schillinger knows that look on Keller's face, that numbness, that pain, that daze, like he's back on drugs again, (maybe he is, wouldn't be a surprise there!) begging (yeah, *begging*!) for Vern to *force* him to snap out of it...or kill him.

But Vern's not gonna do any of those things 'cause he wants to keep his record clean and stay in Em City, naturally.

He can go find his fucking *comfort* somewhere else. Hell! Who wouldn't wanna be the beneficiary of Chrissie's *expert services*? Not him.

(--'Oh, really? Than what's that half-boner in your pants, then, Vern-O?'--)

Yeah, well, the slut's really good at what he does, gotta give him credit for that, way better than Beecher. But then, Beecher's not a fucking fag nor a professional 'ho like little Christopher here...and that was the best part about it, cracking him wide open like a fucking watermelon.

(--'Stop thinking about Beecher and that other fucking prag already, Vern! Or you'll make yourself crazy or something...obsessed.'--)

Vern sits up in his bunk, looking - and not *quite* looking - at Keller's pod...he can see that skinny shithead O'Reily on his feet, waving his arms and yes! There's my boy, on the lower bunk,

(as usual...we all have our place, top/bottom, that's how you define yourself, that's what the whole thing comes down to, really)

sitting down, those long, gorgeous

(--'Aw, Vern, ya didn't just say that, did ya?!'--)

legs of his stretched all the way onto the floor, his hands on his knees, slowly, absently smacking his palms together...

They're talking about something...well, that fucking Mick's doing the talking, Chris just looks...tired, nodding and staring down, rubbing his face with his palms once in a while. What the fuck are they talking about?!

(--'And don't ya just wish you could have supernatural powers and turn into the *all-hearin'-supersized-human-ear* Vern?'--)

Goddamn it, you're starting to get on my motherfucking nerves! Shut up!

But whatever they were talking about comes to an end pretty fast. Ryan waves his arms again like: 'What the fuck?!'-- and jumps back into his bed, and Keller...Keller gets up (what the fuck?!) leans over O'Reily's bunk and... What?!

A slice of pure darkness hovers over that part of the pod, and all Vern can see is Keller's white knuckles on the side of the bunk... What the fuck is that?

Then crawls back into his bunk, obviously mumbling something,

(again, Vern can't hear...'Goddamn it! Goddamn it to hell!')

and goes to sleep. Not that he sleeps much these days.

And so does Vern, but not to sleep, not yet...

What the fuck was that?!

Back to your chain of thoughts, Vern - ya know, the one that keeps you busy... Alive.

Still, it would be *interesting* to see Beecher's reaction to the whole thing, not to mention the high-quality jizz he'd get from pragging, excuse me: *re-pragging* that manipulative bastard.

(--'But is there any *jizz* in that, really? Pragging a man you've already had, already fucked and fucked over in any imaginable manner? And who? A gone-half-crazy slut like Keller? The man has his moments of power, gotta give him that, and it's not like he's the laughing stock of the quad - he's dangerous enough not to be crossed by anybody. Except Beecher, that is.'--)

If -- just *hypothetically speaking*, Vern -- that slut actually wants you back, if you haven't gone completely nuts here, Vernon, you would have to make it obvious and painful, for everybody to see just who's the Man, who's running the show...

'Cause that bastard's big and strong, certainly *taller* than you, and that's not something one should ever ignore... Besides, he's a whole lot older than that 17-year old Keller who could take getting fucked up the ass every night, kicked in the gut and slapped around just for the fuck of it!

(--Because Schillinger's no fag, and that fucking kid needed to just learn his place and stop smiling like a retard, like he's *enjoying* everything happening to him.--)

And that could be a big problem...it's kinda weird pragging someone Keller's age, 'cause, let's face it: two men like themselves, it would look kinda *faggy*...and it's not like he can make Keller put fucking make-up on and pretend he's a girl... A fag, yeah, but not a girl... And he doesn't want to be seen around a fag, now, does he? No.

Amused and annoyed at the same time: 'Fuck! Come to think of it, not even Beecher looked that much like a girl with make-up on...but Keller would be much, much worse, ugly as hell... And that slut might even enjoy it, given Keller's sick, twisted character...the bitch gets off on getting crushed and humiliated, getting punished.' That, Vern surely does remember.

Gotta find the right measure...otherwise things could get really nasty, unstable, easy for Keller to turn everything in his favor.

(--'Or maybe it's a trap? Did you stop to think about that, Vern, or are you getting hard all over & panting already? Use your fucking brain, not that very, very eager dick of yours. Maybe he doesn't want you to fuck him up the ass every goddamn night, maybe that's not his supreme desire - or anybody else's for that matter. Maybe what he wants is to fuck *you*. Over, that is. Ever stop to think of that?'--)

But Vern can't ignore that swelling in his shorts...it's been a while! And the ugly fuck snoring in his pod is definitely out of the fucking question, that's for sure! Just too fucking...disgusting for his taste.

Nighty-night, Vern-baby!...

---end of part 3/17---

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