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Alvarez is at a real low point in his life. Stuck in Oz, he's trying to cope with el Cid and his gang turning on him, some major mental illness, the hacks hating him for blinding one of their own, and facing the blinded Rivera in his sessions with Sister Pete. He's just about ripe for some kind of exploitation.
Enter Keller, the perfect psychopathic sexual predator. He's trying desperately to win Beecher back after having broken his heart *and* his limbs, and he finds in Alvarez the perfect way to get his rocks off and work off his frustration at being brushed off and ignored by Beecher.
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My eternal gratitude goes to Ozsaur (my hero and shit), for her usual incredible and tireless Beta throughout this series.
Warning: This series contains Violence, Bondage, Dom/sub and Intense Sexual Situations.

The Workout

by dustandroses


He was watching Keller lift weights. He knew it wasn't smart to be staring so obviously, but there were very few people in the gym, and the hacks were more interested in talking about last night's game scores than paying attention, so he took advantage and he stared for a while. For once, Beecher wasn't in the room. He'd been there earlier, with Said, but the two had left not long after Keller walked in. Keller hadn't looked happy at that, but he stayed and kept working on his own. Alvarez was alone as well, and when he'd realized the two bikers in the corner weren't paying any more attention than the CO's, he'd paused to stare.

Keller lay on the weight bench, his legs sprawled as he repetitiously lifted the weights over his head. From his position at the punching bag, he could see Keller in profile, his strong arms working hard to lift the weights, his chest lifting and falling with each breath. He heard the little grunts Keller made every time the bar went up. His wifebeater was wet with sweat all around the top and in the center of his chest. Keller glanced over in his direction, so Alvarez concentrated on his boxing for a while, moving around to the side, so he wasn't directly facing Keller anymore. He lost himself in the rhythm - left, left, right. Left, left, right. And let himself be soothed by the familiar ritual.

The next time he looked up, Keller had switched benches. He was still flat on his back, his feet sprawled out to the sides, his groin pointed directly at Alvarez, in an obviously open invitation to watch. Alvarez slipped; his taped hand slick with sweat, sliding across the bag and throwing off his balance. He grabbed the bag, and just leaned against it, breathing hard. He stayed that way for a minute, staring, his fast shallow breaths giving a reason for holding onto the bag, his eyes trained on Keller's crotch.

His sweaty, light grey shorts were riding up and were pressed against his groin, giving Alvarez a good view of his half-hard cock and his balls beneath. Keller lifted his head slightly, glancing his way for just a second, then spread his legs wider as if he were daring Alvarez to do something about it. Alvarez could feel his own groin tighten - his balls felt heavy. He wanted to grab his dick and start squeezing. He wanted to walk over to that bench and start jerking off over Keller's body. He wanted to pull off Keller's shirt and shorts, and rub his face all over Keller's sweaty chest, then grab his hips and bury his face in Keller's groin.

His dick had grown hard in just the few seconds he'd been standing there, and suddenly it ached so badly he had to close his eyes and groan softly. It took all his strength not to reach down and start jerking off right then. When he opened his eyes again, Keller had set the bar in it`s rack, and was leaning up on one elbow, staring directly at Alvarez, the fingers of his other hand rubbing absently across his belly as if they had nothing better to do. He sat up and pulled his wifebeater over his head, then used it like a towel to wipe down the sweat on his face and arms. As he began to rub it across his chest, Alvarez actually made an aborted move; an attempt to push himself away from the bag and cross over to Keller, grab the shirt out of his hands and lick the sweat off his chest and belly.

Instead, he leaned up against the chain link separating the workout area from the gym floor, trying to look casual, as one of the CO's grabbed the two bikers and crossed in front of him, the bikers in tow, heading back to Unit B. He watched them pass him, the hack staring at him as he went by. He felt a flush cross his face, as if the CO could tell what he was thinking and moved his body slightly to make sure the bag covered his groin. One of the bikers smirked at him as he passed, and he imagined they knew what had been happening here. He froze, realizing what he'd just been thinking. The things he'd wanted to do had been foreign to him only two weeks ago.

And not just foreign, but wrong. Always had been wrong, for as long as he could remember. As the bikers walked away, Alvarez turned his back to Keller and started pounding the bag again. He knew Keller was watching him, but he couldn't face Keller. Not while his conscience tried to work its way clear of this mess. On one side was his family, his heritage, his need to belong. There was his religion, as well, and everything it stood for. He wasn't so much concerned with his family anymore; he was here for the long haul, there was not much they could offer him here and now.

But there was el Norte, and the macho image that the men of his culture embraced and expected from their brothers. If the members of el Norte knew of his involvement with Keller, he'd be ostracized from his gang, he'd have no protection from anyone. He'd be an outcast. He laughed when he realized what he'd just admitted to himself. More than he already was? Could he be treated any worse than they already treated him? He was already an outcast. Already scorned by the people he should be able to count on to be his brothers. No, there wasn't much there for him. But it was all he had.

And on the other hand, what could he expect from Keller, beyond a grope in a closet? There was no kinship there. No chance that he'd develop a bond, someone to watch out for him. All he could expect from Keller was a warm body pressed against his back, strong arms wrapped around him, jerking him off, and a hard-on rubbing against his ass. And he had to admit, he wanted that. He lived in an all male environment; he wasn't going to get laid for a very long time, unless he chose to fuck a man, or be fucked by him. The whole idea was disturbing to him, if he let himself think too much about it. He'd spent a good portion of the last two weeks avoiding those thoughts, and most of that time, he'd spent with his cock as hard as nails.

He knew he could only count on Keller for one thing: Keller made him feel alive. He'd been trapped in this hell hole for three years now. He'd gone through and done things he'd never believed he'd ever have to do. Things he'd never believe he would ever do. He'd thought he was dead, had wanted to die, more than once in that time, and it could happen at any point, again. Maybe even at the hands of his own people. His hermanos. That word meant nothing to him, now.

He could die tomorrow. Or Keller could. Who knows? Keller might finally convince Beecher he was actually worthy of another try. Stranger things had happened. There were many things that could end the tenuous bond that stretched between the two of them right now. If he could drag any small amount of pleasure out of this place, then that made it worth the trouble to him.

He turned around, his heart thumping in his chest, not from his exertions, but from fear that Keller had tired of his indecision and left. But there he was, sitting up now, straddling the bench, using the hand weights, working his biceps. He looked up as Alvarez slid down the chain link at his back, coming to rest on the floor across from Keller's bench. He held his body nervously, his arms wrapped around his knees. When he looked up, Keller's crotch was at Alvarez' eye level. His stomach jumped with nerves. But he was determined. As he stared into Keller's eyes, he realized Keller had been waiting for him. The next move belonged to Alvarez.

He dropped his gaze down to Keller's crotch, staring at the bulge there for a moment, then his eyes moved back up to Keller's, and he licked his lips. He tried to make it slow and provocative, his tongue running over the top lip and then the bottom one. But he was hesitant and nervous and he was sure Keller could tell. But Keller watched him closely, his own lips parted just slightly. Keller's eyes glanced quickly over to his right, where the hack sat, as far away from them as he could manage, and still say he was supervising their exercises. He had his nose in a girly mag he'd confiscated from some poor sucker, and was making it very clear he wanted no interference from the two of them.

When Alvarez turned back, Keller was shifting the weights to his other hand, starting his reps on the other side. Alvarez watched him work for a minute, watched a drop of sweat slide down his face, fall off his chin and land on his bare chest, rolling down his abdomen to disappear in the waistband of his shorts. Alvarez swallowed suddenly, aware of how badly he'd wanted to catch that drop on his tongue before it landed on Keller's chest. Keller grinned at him, that lopsided grin that stirred up the fire in his blood.

Keller spoke, quietly, his low voice carrying to Alvarez and not much further. "Spread your legs for me."

There it was. That twist in his gut, the one that lit him up and chilled him through at the same time. His breath caught for a moment, as he gathered his courage, then slowly parted his legs, spreading himself open for Keller. But it wasn't enough.

"Wider. No, keep your knees bent. That's right. Like that."

He felt exposed. It was almost like he was wearing nothing at all instead of his old ratty, cut-off sweats. He was starring at Keller's crotch again, but he couldn't seem to stop.

"Take your shirt off." Alvarez looked up to Keller's face in surprise. If he took off his shirt, the guard could easily tell what was going on with him. He could tell how hard Keller made him. He hesitated.

"Do what I tell you." The warning in his voice was obvious, and he responded immediately, throwing his jersey to the side. "That's better."

Alvarez was so hard. All it had taken was Keller's deep voice, telling him what to do. He wanted this so badly. He couldn't imagine how he could have made a different choice.

"Pull your sweats up tight. I want to see your cock. Tighter. That's good. Use your left hand. Don't let go."

Keller glanced up at the CO for a moment, then told Alvarez, "I want you to touch yourself."

Alvarez' breathing was faster and shallow, he closed his eyes, leaning his head against the chain link as he ran his hand up his thigh toward his crotch.

"Look at me."

Alvarez opened his eyes and gazed into Keller's, until Keller nodded, assured he was paying attention. Then Keller watched as Alvarez slid his hand over his hard-on, rubbing softly over his dick through his sweats, not wanting to press too hard, afraid he'd come in his pants, if he wasn't careful.

"Harder." But then, maybe that's what Keller had in mind.

His hips began working independently of his control, thrusting up into his hand, as he rubbed faster against his dick.

"Stop."

Alvarez didn't remember closing his eyes, but they popped open again at that command. He pulled his hand away, squeezing his thigh tightly, gasping for a solid breath and trying not to sob out loud. He wanted to come so badly.

"Oh yeah, Alvarez, you look so good right now. So hot. I want to run my hands up your thighs and pull those sweats off your legs, and feel your cock against my hand as I jerk you off. Keep your legs spread. That's good. Keep them like that. I like seeing you all spread out, like you`re just waiting for me to touch you." Keller slid forward so he was sitting on the edge of the bench, and dropped the weights by his foot. As far as the CO was concerned, he was just leaning back on one arm, resting from his workout, talking to Alvarez.

But to Alvarez, the gesture was obscene, his groin thrust forward, his cock clearly outlined in his thin light-gray shorts. "I want to feel you touch me. Your hands on my hips, my thighs, running down my legs to my ankles and back up to the inside of my thighs. I want to watch you suck my cock, your head buried deep in my lap. Then when I blow my load in your mouth, I want you to kiss me with the taste of my come in your mouth. I love that. That's so hot. So sexy. You're so fuckin' sexy, Alvarez. I can't stand it; I want your mouth on me. God you turn me on."

Keller stopped suddenly, and Alvarez looked over at the hack who was standing up and walking over towards them. He casually pulled his legs together, hoping he could hide his aching hard-on with his knees, hoping that the guard wouldn't want them to stand up, because he wasn't sure he could. As he got closer, Keller bent over to pick up the weights by his foot as the CO casually rolled the skin mag up and walked past them disappearing into the bathroom.

Keller watched him go, then sat up and pointed to the floor directly between his knees. "Come here."

Alvarez was there, on his knees in front of Keller almost before he'd finished saying it. He reached up to grab the waist of Keller's shorts, but Keller was already standing up, pulling them low on his hips before he sat back down. Alvarez pushed the fabric aside and took Keller's hot, heavy cock in his hands, then paused, looking up at Keller's face for permission before swallowing as much of it as he could, running his tongue around the crown and then moving his head up and down as he stroked the exposed part of Keller's cock with his hand.

He worked fast, knowing he only had a few minutes at the most, and though he knew he didn't have technique down pat yet, Keller seemed pleased enough with his efforts. Keller grabbed Alvarez' head, running his fingers through his hair and finally thrusting up and grunting as he came, pumping into Alvarez' mouth. Alvarez had trouble swallowing all of it, but what spilled on his hand and on Keller's dick, Alvarez licked up, squinting just a bit, knowing Keller couldn't see the face he was making, and wondering if he'd ever get used to that texture. The taste was salty and weird, but ok; it just felt so strange in his mouth.

Keller took Alvarez' head in both his hands and pulled him up into a kiss, moaning into Alvarez' mouth, licking his own come out and Alvarez shared it and the kiss, deep and strong, Keller's tongue slipping out to lick up the come that had gotten on his chin. Then he grabbed Alvarez and pulled him up onto his feet, grabbing his waist band and pulling it down around his knees, exposing his painfully hard cock. Keller grabbed his hips pulling Alvarez to him, and put his mouth around Alvarez' cock, just as he heard the bathroom door open behind him.

Alvarez was moaning as Keller pulled his pants back up and pushed Alvarez, who stumbled away feeling dazed. Keller stood up and headed over to Alvarez` shirt, lying on the floor by the punching bag. He tossed the shirt at Alvarez, who quickly pulled it over his head, grateful the oversized jersey was long enough that no one could tell how hard he really was.

Alvarez sat down on a bench, stunned, his cock hurting so badly, he wasn't sure he could actually walk all the way back to his pod before he exploded or hurt himself, or maybe both. But the CO was telling them to hurry up, his shift was almost over, and as Alvarez tried to stand up, Keller pushed him back down, whispered "Stay here!" and turned back to the CO. In a daze, Alvarez stood back up again, just as Keller called out, saying it looked like Alvarez had a cramp in his thigh, could he give them a minute?

Then Keller turned, grabbed Alvarez' dick hard, right through two layers of clothes, and Alvarez came, crying out from the suddenness, the jolt of the orgasm and the shock of it all. Jerking and shaking, he collapsed into Keller then and fell back onto the bench, gasping for breath. Alvarez had just enough of his brain left to him to realize the need to pretend he'd had a bad cramp, and Keller spent several minutes massaging his upper thigh, which under most circumstances would probably have been a pleasurable experience but was at this point, a totally wasted endeavor.

As the hack walked them back to Emerald City, Alvarez spent his time studying Keller. Head held high, that cocky smirk on his lips, the one that challenged anyone to try and spoil his buzz; that prowl in his walk that marked him for the deadly predator he was. He'd been so cool when there'd been the chance of discovery, moving fast, always in control. They'd come so close to being discovered, but Keller looked like he'd just been round the corner, visiting the neighbors for a nice social call. No indication that just ten minutes ago he'd been sucking his own come out of Alvarez' mouth. Nothing fazed Keller, what ever came his way, he just grabbed it and twisted it around until it work for him.

Alvarez still felt unsteady, his feet taken out from under him once again. The same way he'd felt after every encounter with Keller. Reaching his pod, he moved to the sink, sticking his head under the faucet, rubbing his face with the cold water and reaching for his towel. He stared at his reflection, looking for something, he didn't know what. His view of the world had shifted radically in the last two weeks, and it just seemed right that somehow, it should show. But even he couldn't tell by looking, and he knew what had changed. For the first since he'd lost his baby three years ago, Alvarez knew what he wanted. He was just going to have to take his cue from Keller, and grab what he wanted, and make it his.




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