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Many thanks to my beta Ozsaur - she's my hero and shit!
Written for the Live Journal HardTime100 Flash Fiction Halloween Challenge - Nightmare on Oz Street.
Heat Enough to Share
Miguel didn't know what had startled him out of a sound sleep, but something was different. He glanced around his cell - didn't take long - the cells in Solitary are pretty small. No place to hide. And besides, who would be hiding in his cell? Who in their right mind would want to sneak into Solitary?! The only ones who could get in were the hacks and there was no reason for them to sneak up on him. No reason for him to be creeped out right now either, but he was.
He frowned at the walls around him, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and trying to concentrate. He cursed the happy pills Sister Pete prescribed for him - they made him feel dull and slow. It seemed to take forever, now, for him to think straight in the mornings. As his mind struggled to focus on why he felt so uneasy tonight, he heard the footsteps of a hack walking outside his cell. Giles cried out from two doors down, and he heard the sudden rap of a nightstick on the metal of a door. It had been a fairly peaceful night, so far. But it just felt like something was up tonight, and Miguel couldn't tell why.
Maybe it had to do with that rumor he'd heard this afternoon, when he'd gone for his checkup in the Infirmary. O'Reily said weird things had been happening in Oz recently. Inmates fainting and sick, but no one could figure out why. Grown men waking up screaming, terrified out of their minds, but they couldn't remember their dreams. And a couple of inmates had disappeared out of their cells in the middle of the night, and had never been found. He'd laughed at that one - good for them! They'd found a way out. He wished he could do the same.
But he never had that kind of luck. The good stuff never happened to him. He missed the outside so much, sometimes. The freedom to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. Just to touch another person in kindness again. God, he missed touching. He sighed. "Get over it Miguel," he told himself. He closed his eyes and rolled over, putting his back to the empty room and pulling the sheet and thin, ratty blanket up around his shoulders. He breathed deeply, refusing to be spooked by - - - nothing and tried to let the quiet lull him back to sleep.
Suddenly, he knew there was someone else in the room. He whirled around, putting his back to the wall - opening his eyes to dark shadows all around him and a man standing close to his bed! A chill chased icy fingers up his spine and his command of English deserted him, leaving him stuttering nonsense words in Spanish. He shook his head to clear it and tried again: "Qu el infierno? Quines son usted? Qu usted est haciendo aqu?" (What the hell? Who are you? What are you doing here?)
The tall, dark haired man stepped forward and sat on the edge of his bed. Miguel immediately scooted as far away from the man as possible, ending up in the corner at the head of the bed, with no place left to go. He held the blanket up against his bare chest, as if it could protect him from the intense black eyes that seemed to suck him into their depths. Dizziness overcame him.
Dropping the blanket into his lap, his head fell back against the wall, but he never took his eyes from the man's. He tried to look away from that fierce stare but realized he couldn't even blink - not until the man smiled at him and nodded slightly. Suddenly freed, he took in a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to calm his racing heart and clear his head. The thought came to him that when he opened his eyes the man would be gone, but when he tried it he was still there - staring at Miguel with hunger in his eyes.
The man didn't seem to move but suddenly he was right there, leaning into Miguel, pressing him back into the wall until there was no place left for him to go. The dark man reached out his hand, resting it palm down on his bare chest and Miguel gasped - his hand was like ice! It made him shiver and his nipples hardened with the cold while goosebumps raised everywhere. His heart was pounding, but not only in his chest - he could feel his blood pumping through his whole body. His face flushed as he became aware of the sensuality of that throbbing pulse.
"Your heart beat is so strong." The words were soft and deep and seemed to slide out of the man like honey. They were the first words he'd heard him say and Miguel blinked, thinking that this somehow made him real. Even more real than his touch had. He didn't understand why but for some reason he felt calmer, felt his heart beat slow and even out under the man's cold touch.
Nodding again, the stranger smiled and slowly slid his hand up to his neck, his thumb coming to rest over Miguel's pulse point. Miguel shivered again but he couldn't tell if it was from the cold of the man's hand, or the rush of pleasure he felt from this intimate touch. The man spoke, his low voice resonating over Miguel's entire body: "Don't worry, I'll warm up soon enough. You have heat enough to share, don't you?"
Miguel puzzled over this. Was this a question he was supposed to answer? He wasn't sure he could make his voice work and besides he didn't know what to say, anyway. Did he really want to help this man? His hands were very cold.
"Miguel," he whispered, sliding his fingers along Miguel's jaw and up his chin to cover his warm, full lips. He left them there for a moment and Miguel wondered how he knew his name. He smiled once again and told him softly, "I know much about you, Miguel."
Miguel frowned at this. It was hard for him to form the words but he finally found the strength to ask: "Qu usted desea? - - - What do you want from me?"
The man's eyes seemed to burn into him at that. With a hand wrapped around the back of his neck, Miguel was pulled into a hard kiss. He gasped and the man's cool tongue was suddenly inside his mouth, as if he was searching urgently for the source of Miguel's heat. He returned the kiss in kind, his pulse pounding throughout his body, his arms coming up around the man, holding him tight, while inside his head something screamed at him to stop - stop now! But he couldn't stop - he didn't want to; this was something he`d been longing for.
The man's touch was strong and sure and it felt so good, so right. He pulled Miguel down to lie on the narrow bed; throwing the sheet and blanket to the floor, pulling down his boxers until he lay there naked - staring up into the stranger's dark, mesmerizing eyes. His hand started at Miguel's shoulder, slowly tracing a line of ice-cold fire down his chest. He stretched sensuously, arching his back into the touch like a cat; sighing. It felt so good to be touched, to feel the thrill of passion brought on by another person's hand on his body.
The hand continued to trace fire down his side - around the outside of his thigh and calf; then to the inside, returning to the heat of his inner thigh. That strong hand grasped his hardening cock and circled it, squeezing and pulling. Miguel gasped again and moaned; the cold that under any other circumstances would have sent him shouting and pulling away in shock seemed to only increase the pleasure, forcing his desire higher. He could feel his heart beating strongly, the pulse echoing in his groin as the heat pooled there and his arousal grew.
Suddenly the man was lying on top of Miguel, his kiss intense and so powerful that for a moment, he found it hard to breathe. Miguel wrapped his arms around the naked man`s broad shoulders, holding on tight and wondering in surprise when he'd had time to shed his clothes. He spread his legs to let the man settle between them, crying out when he felt the sparks as their cocks touched and rubbed together; the man above him moving his hips in sync with the beat of his pulse. The pleasure was so overwhelming that he had to close his eyes to stop the spinning in his head.
Miguel murmured softly as the man kissed his jaw and traced the edge with his strangely cool tongue, moaning as he found the pulse point in his neck and began to suck slowly and sensuously upon it. He pulled the man's head closer to him as he suckled, panting for breath as he became more and more aroused by the feel of the suction pulling on his neck. He bucked his hips into the other man's, trying to increase the pressure on his dick but it just wasn`t enough - he needed more. Finally, wrapping his legs tightly around the man's back, he found the angle he was looking for and the two thrust together, pushing the passion up between them until it hit the peak. He cried out as he came, his head thrown back, and he felt the blood singing in his veins, the roar of it so loud that it deafened him.
He had no strength left; breathing heavily, he let gravity pull his arms and legs from their hold on the man above him. Still supported on his elbows, the man lifted his head to rub his flushed cheek against Miguel's. He sighed and raising one hand, passed it over Miguel's forehead, closing his eyes with his warm fingertips. He whispered one word into his ear - "Sleep." And Miguel did.
When he woke the next morning wrapped in his blanket and wearing his boxers, he assured himself that it was only the loneliness of solitary confinement that caused him to dream of a dark man in his bed. He was no maricon cingao (fucking faggot) - not him! It was just a dream. He'd start thinking about Maritza before he went to sleep at night and that would take care of that. He got up and took a piss, then crossed to the sink to brush his teeth. When he looked into the mirror, he shuddered and felt a sudden, heavy weight in his gut. He felt a cold hand on the back of his neck and spun around, half expecting to find a tall, dark man with eyes that seemed to swallow him whole. But nothing was there and shaking his head, he nervously laughed it off.
"It was just a dream," he told himself harshly, staring into the mirror at his own pale reflection. He turned his head to the side to study the two small holes centered on his jugular vein. "Comemierda! (Fool!) It was just a dream!"
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