Chapter Text
“It’s almost high noon.” The comment makes Jack idly roll his gaze towards the clock tower looming over the prison courtyard and behind the coiled barbed wire.
“And? What’s so special about it, gatito?” His eyes inevitably drift back to the man sat across from him, watching him lazily chew on a bubble gum, lips occasionally smacking with a loud, wet sound and not a care in the world. Quite the sign of wealth and status within the high security prison walls, as it was generally considered a serious choking hazard and most inmates were forbidden this form of indulgement. Jack aches to taste it and taste the lips undoubtedly sticky with the strawberry flavour.
“It’s delivery time…” the kid points with his chin towards a newly arrived guard, a midday shift change and although the man is short, chubby and with a persistent blush of a scared virgin crawling over round cheeks, the prisoners part around him with some sort of begrudging respect as if they knew a secret privy just to them and the guard.
“And what is being delivered here?” A gum balloon pops with an obnoxious noise before it is pinched on one end between two fingers, a string of it stretched from between pouty lips and nonchalantly twirled around an index finger.
“Various stuff, whatever I get an order for. Today it’s mostly smokes, some woman’s panties and a few packs of oreo. Whatever my fellow inmates’ hearts desire. Ask for Rhys if you need anything.” Stuffing the gum back into his mouth, Rhys licks his fingers clean, not once moving his intent gaze away from Jack. Oh he knows who the kid is quite well, his infamous reputation one of the first things newcomers learned here. Don’t mess with the resident hoe if you don’t want a nasty run in with a gang of thirsty thugs with more tattoos than brains, keep your secrets close but your toothbrush closer and never, ever insult those doing janitorial work if you care for keeping your belongings unsullied by the dirty mop water. Those are the three rules for making it through your sentence without much troubles. Some of them were a hard learned lesson for Jack.
“Jack Lawrence,” he knows how to get around, knows someone important the second he sets his eyes on them, and right here, he sees a kid that carries himself with enough air of experience and confidence that even the guards give him some space. That is an alliance worth making, the slim hand slotting into his leaving a tingling sensation in the wake of fingers drawing a few light circles against the inside of his wrist before they slide away. “Is there anything you -couldn’t- get smuggled in here?”
“No. But it all depends on the price my clients are willing to pay. Lawrence, huh? So, is there anything special someone like you would need?” A smug grin shot his way does wonderful things to Jack and maybe, just maybe, with the help of this eager little slut, his freedom can slowly drift back within his greedy reach. “I charge double for ‘special’. So, theoretically speaking, what would you be willing to offer in exchange?”
Mismatched eyes take a wide sweep over their perimeter, taking in the scattered groups of tough looking men, some indulging in a basketball game, some working out on nearby equipment while others simply seem to be basking in the late summer sun. There is no one within hearing range, but just to be sure, Jack lowers his voice.
“How about an escape plan?”
That gets him a snotty snort and a nose clearly turned up on his offer, “that would have to be a really good plan, heard that offer plenty times, fell for it only once, I’m not going to make the same mistake twice.”
“Trust me guapo, this is one hell of a plan, keep on playing that wanton whore role you’re so good at and I might consider giving you something better to play with once we’re outta here doll.”
“We?” A crooked smirk he’s sending Rhys’ way is mirrored, something more devious if still playful crinkling in the corners of brown and blue eyes. “I’ll tell you what, meet me in the chapel just before bedtime to discuss the details.” The words are nearly purred at him one last balloon popped before the gum is plucked from between pouty lips. “I have heard about you prior to landing here, so, consider this a trust loan, you manage to get me out of this shithole, I might even enjoy riding your dick to Seattle and back handsome.” A wink and the chewed over gum is pressed to Jack’s lips. “Now if you excuse me, I have to go make a scene…”
With a curt nod towards a short guy with a thin line of awful moustache over his upper lip, Rhys makes his way to the center of the courtyard, other inmates sensing something brewing in the still summer air start crowding around the two. A curled fist catches the pornstache in the nose and a brief scuffle breaks out before a blaring horn sends everyone to lay face down while the chubby guard tackles down the man currently having a meltdown in the middle of the courtyard. Amidst the screams of protest
He can just about catch Rhys’ backside not so subtly grinding against the guard’s crotch, making the tips of the man’s ears burn a bright shade of red. As the cuffed prisoner and his supposed ‘victim’, face still smeared with red, are escorted out, there is a toothy grin briefly shot over squared shoulders and suddenly, the obnoxious orange jumpsuit Jack still has to wear, is that little bit more bearable.
The strawberry taste is nearly gone and the gum has slowly began to harden but Jack can’t help the smug smirk blooming on his face when other inmates notice him flaunting around his freshly obtained sign of power.