Free Straight Boy: A Short Story by Alessandra Hazard Page B

passed by, and the prison life was nothing like Sage imagined. For one thing, it was far more boring than he’d ever thought. He couldn’t do anything he wanted. Everything he did was controlled and regulated, and it started slowly driving him mad. Sometimes it got so boring he felt like he had to do something drastic just to escape the monotony. Now he could understand why there was so much violence in prison: people had to entertain themselves. It freaked him out and scared him that he was starting to relate to those criminals.
    The other inmates mostly left him alone, but Sage had no delusions about that. He saw the looks other men gave him. He was blond, blue-eyed and too damn “pretty” not to attract attention. As much as he hated that he had to depend on Xavier, the guy was the only thing that kept others away. By the end of the second week, Sage was already so used to having Xavier’s proprietary hand on him in the showers that he just ignored it.
    But although he knew everyone thought he was Xavier’s bitch, being called that to his face was a different thing entirely.
    “I’m not his bitch,” he snapped when Arman, the guy he’d formed a tentative friendship of sorts with, called him that jokingly. “He isn’t fucking me.”
    Arman gave him an odd look and didn’t say anything.
    Sage thought nothing of it until he returned that evening to their cell and found Xavier waiting for him already. And he was angry as hell, his dark eyebrows drawn into a line, his lips pressed together.
    Xavier was on him before he could even blink. He shoved Sage against the wall, pressing his arm against his throat. “Do you want me to kill you? You made me look like a fucking liar. Is that your gratitude?”
    Sage licked his lips. “Sorry. I didn’t think Arman would tell anyone.”
    Xavier scoffed. “You’re such a naive baby. Never trust anyone.”
    “And I should trust you?”
    Xavier smiled. “You shouldn’t trust me, either.” His smile disappeared as quickly as it appeared. His face was grim now. “If people call you my bitch, you say you’re my bitch. Got it?”
    “Fuck you.” Sage tried to shove him off, but only ended up rubbing himself against Xavier.
    “I will,” Xavier murmured into his ear, biting it.
    Sage flushed. “Fuck off.”
    “You’ll be begging me soon,” Xavier said, pressing harder into him. His weight, his strength, his scent… It was overwhelming Sage’s senses in a strange, disturbing way.
    “Never.”
    Xavier pulled away. Sage breathed out.
    “Fine. If you don’t want my protection, you’re free to do whatever you want. I’ll let people know I don’t give a fuck if anyone touches you.”
    Sage swallowed, remembering the looks other inmates gave him in the showers. Being gangbanged wasn’t his idea of fun. He might hate Xavier, but at least the guy was unlikely to force him. Not because he was such a good guy—Xavier was an asshole, but he was an asshole who liked to play mind games and who was willing to wait until Sage begged him to fuck him. And since it was never going to happen, he was safer with Xavier. Probably. “Wait—don’t.”
    Xavier didn’t gloat, but Sage hadn’t really expected it.
    Xavier just nodded and said, “Now go to sleep.”
    “You’re not the boss of me,” Sage muttered, scowling.
    But he did as he was told.
     
     
     
    * * *
     
     
     
    Next time in the showers, Xavier’s soaped finger slipped between his ass cheeks.
    Sage froze. “You said you wouldn’t force me,” he hissed.
    “I’m not and I won’t,” Xavier said, pushing the finger inside him slowly. “I have to touch you to make sure others see me touching you. If I don’t, they’ll start thinking you have me wrapped around your little finger.”
    Sage snorted—he couldn’t even imagine that—but he forced himself to relax. Xavier was right, damn him.
    The finger pushed deeper. It didn’t really hurt, but it felt odd. Very odd.
    The finger pulled out, then moved back