Go to all chapters of "Medium Security".
"Let's go up to the iron pile," suggested Ben. "You might want to work off a little tension before you go back up to the tier."
"Yeah," Brian agreed. He didn't want to see Justin right now. Brian didn't want to see the kid until he'd cooled off and had a little time to think. "That's a good idea, Ben."
The two men went up to the gym. A couple of guys were lifting weights there, but they moved off the equipment when they saw the Juice Pig and his buddy come onto the floor. The Juice Pig was a guy who you didn't want to cross.
It was still difficult for Brian to pull any significant weight, even after months of working on getting his strength back. Dr. Caputo had told him that it wasn't unusual for it to take a year for a guy to get back to normal. But Brian hated the feeling of being powerless that his wound had left him with. His left side still hurt when he over-exerted himself or when he tried to run too far or too fast. And using the machines left him washy and fatigued after a short period of time.
Ben knew all this. That's why they usually worked out together. Brian didn't want the rest of the jockers to realize just how vulnerable he still was. And Ben, who had been the one to work with him when he was still in the Hospital Wing, was the only one who really knew the extent of Brian's weakness.
Ben knew and he didn't care. Because Brian knew something about Ben that no one else did. Which was that the Juice Pig, the Big Man of the East Wing, had been just as big a cocksucker as any queen in the Quad when he'd been on the outside. But that was something that the other jocks, who only saw a tall, imposing, pumped up Ben, never could have guessed. So Brian and Ben had something in common -- they were both gay men trying to retain their manhood in a place that didn't allow that option. Ben was successfully playing his part, but Brian -- dragging a history of being a punk behind him -- was having a much harder time maintaining his status as a man in Stanton Correctional.
"Why did Justin do it?" Ben asked.
Brian shrugged. "He talked about it this summer. He saw tattoos on some of the men and he heard them bragging about having their wives' or girlfriends' names put on to show how devoted they were to them. And he knows that I have a tattoo, although he also knows how I got it."
Brian ran his left index finger along the middle finger of his right hand. "Resist." It had been meant as a joke by the low-riders who gave it to him, but it meant more than that now. Because that's what Brian had always been doing. Resisting. And what he'd be doing for the rest of his life.
"It's a message to you, you know," said Ben. "Justin is telling you how he feels. And telling everyone who sees it how he feels."
"I know," said Brian, softly. "But I don't want him marked by something like that for his entire life! He's going to get out of here one day. Soon, I hope. And I don't want him to... to be ashamed when he gets out. I don't want him to have to hide his body from people who'll judge him. From people who don't understand what he's been through. Justin is only making it harder for himself when he should be trying to make his life easier. When he should be trying to live as normally as possible."
Ben set down his hand weights. "It's too late for that, Bri. The kid's life will never be easy -- or normal. He's a fag and nothing is going to change that. He isn't going to turn straight when he gets out and I don't think he would want to. Would you want Justin to change? Really?"
"I only want him to be safe," whispered Brian. "And happy. If that's possible in this lousy, fucked up world!"
Brian was trying to work his arms, but a pain shot through him from the scar on his left side and he flinched and faltered.
"Take it easy, Bri," said Ben, reaching out to steady his friend. Ben held Brian up until he caught his breath. But then Ben held him a little longer.
"Ben," said Brian. "Let me go."
"There's no one around, Bri Baby," Ben said in a low voice. He slipped his hands down and cupped Brian's ass. "What's the harm?" Ben pulled Brian close to him. Ben was hard and he could feel Brian's long cock begin to stir inside his workpants.
"Don't," said Brian, shortly.
A door slammed nearby. Ben let Brian go and moved away. "Like I said, Bri -- what's the harm?"
"It's not right, Ben," Brian replied. "And you know it. Besides, I'm hooked up. I take that seriously. Maybe that's naive of me, but I do."
"Justin would never know. And neither would Michelle," Ben countered.
"But I would know. And so would you," said Brian.
"Don't tell me that you never screwed around on the lawyer? In eight years? Because I don't believe it!" Ben scoffed.
"It was different with me and Ron," Brian stated. "I was younger and I was more curious. If I wanted to fool around or fuck one of the queens occasionally, Ron didn't mind. He allowed me to do it. He didn't consider that cheating." Brian took a deep breath. "And he had his wife and their regular Conjugal Visits. That didn't count either. I guess." Brian turned away from Ben. He didn't want to talk about this shit!
Ben caught the look on Brian's face and he laughed. "But you were jealous, Bri Baby! I can see it written all over you!" The Juice Pig wiped the sweat off his broad shoulders with a towel. "You were jealous of the lawyer's fucking wife!"
"That was a long time ago," said Brian. He sat down on the bench very slowly, gathering his strength. "And it has nothing to do with the present."
"Sure it does, Bri," said Ben. "The past and the present -- it's all the same. The beginning is the ending. And everything in between."
Brian grimaced. "Stop giving me all that Tao crap, Charlie Chan. You sound like a fucking fortune cookie!"
Ben snorted. "At least I have some kind of philosophy. Something to believe in. What do you have, Bri? Not much. Except maybe your fears."
"No, I don't have much," Brian admitted soberly. He pressed his hand to his left side. The wound was throbbing like an angry heartbeat. "Except Justin. That's all I have. For as long as I have that. And when he's gone... nothing. Nothing at all. And that will be the end of it."
Flashback to Fall 1969
When Ron and Bri Baby finally hooked up for real Ron was astonished at how quickly every man in the East Wing -- both inmates and C.O.'s -- knew about it.
To Ron, nothing had changed outwardly. He and Brian still lived in the same cell together, worked in the Law Library together, ate all of their meals together. None of that had changed. And Ron didn't think that he treated Brian any differently than he had before. They didn't hold hands or make goo goo eyes at each other like a couple of faggots. And Brian hadn't said anything to anyone, either. He wasn't the kind of kid to exchange idle gossip with the queens on the tier or offer much of anything about his personal life. In fact, Bri Baby was pretty close-mouthed, even to Ron.
And yet... they all knew.
Maybe it was something in their body language. Or in the way Ron glared at other men who dared to look at Brian. Or the way that Brian gazed at his jock with infatuated eyes. Or even in the way they touched each other furtively during dinner or on Movie Night when they thought that no one else was looking.
Or maybe it was simply the noise that came from their cell, E-320, at any hour of the day or night. "Honeymooning" the queens called it. And for a guy like Ron, who hadn't had sex in the four years he'd been inside, there was a lot of catching up to do.
"Baby, if you got out tomorrow what would be the first thing you'd do?" asked Ron, lighting a cigarette.
"The very first thing?" Brian considered. "Eat a big Chinese meal!"
Ron grinned. "A Chinese meal? Are you kidding?"
"No!" said Brian, punching Ron's arm. "I want egg rolls and wonton soup and lots of fried rice! And shrimp with lobster sauce! And subgum chow mein! I can almost taste it just thinking about it."
Ron had to laugh. Brian wasn't a huge eater. More often than not, he picked at his food listlessly and left most of the congealed stew or gray meatloaf or limp spaghetti on his plate.
"I'd love to see you eat big meal, Baby," said Ron. "And I promise that I'll treat you to the works -- from egg roll to fortune cookie -- the day you get out."
"Okay!" Brian replied happily. Both of them put out of their minds just how many years it was likely to be before Brian could collect on Ron's vow.
Ron knew that a lot of jockers only fucked their punks in the dark and in total silence. But that was bullshit. Once he'd gotten over the odd sensation of having a man in bed with him, Ron figured that he would enjoy it. And one of the things he enjoyed the most was lying in the bunk afterwards, reveling in the feeling of exhaustion and satisfaction that came after a good, hard fuck. And having a cigarette, too.
"And after I have that Chinese food," Brian continued. "I want to drive a car. A big car, like a Ford or a Buick! I want to roll down the windows and drive out into the country. I want to feel the wind blowing on my face. And I want to turn on the radio full blast!" Brian smiled delightedly at his private little fantasy.
"Where would you drive your car?" asked Ron.
Brian leaned his head on Ron's arm and took the cigarette out of his jock's mouth, taking a puff. "We could drive to Florida. Or California. I want to see the ocean! I want to see if it's really, really blue. And I want to take my shoes off and walk on the beach. Have you ever done that?"
"Sure I have," said Ron. "I was born and raised in New York City. I've been to Coney Island. But I'm afraid that the ocean doesn't look too blue around Manhattan, Baby."
"That's why I want to go to Florida where the water is clear," said Brian. "I want to look down and see the bottom of the sea. I want to see fish swimming by my feet!"
Ron laughed again.
"Stop making fun of me!" Brian pouted. "You think I'm stupid!"
"No, Baby, not at all," said Ron. "I think it's wonderful to have dreams. But...."
"But what?" Brian frowned.
"I don't know if I can drive to Florida with you, Baby," said Ron. "What about my wife, Jane?"
"What about her?" Brian sniffed. Brian had never met Jane Rosenblum but he hated her anyway.
Ron shook his head. "I don't think she'd like it if I went on vacation with you, Baby."
Brian bristled. "I don't give a shit whether she likes it or not! You're with ME now -- not HER!"
Ron was amused by Bri Baby's passion. "But Baby, Jane is still my wife. And she'll be my wife when I get out. You have to accept that fact."
"She might divorce you," Brian offered. "Lots of guys' old ladies divorce them while they're in the joint!"
Ron smiled at Baby's persistence. It was so fucking cute that the kid was jealous of his wife. Almost as if they were really rivals. "Not Jane. Our families don't believe in divorce."
Brian reached for Ron's dick, stroking it possessively. "I bet she doesn't suck cock as well as I do!"
"Jane doesn't suck cock at all," Ron informed the boy. "She'd never think of doing such a foul thing."
"Then what good is she if she doesn't suck cock?" Brian questioned. "What does she do then? Just lie there?"
"What my wife and I do in bed isn't any of your business, Baby," Ron said sternly. "Our sex life has always been okay, but it's certainly not the main focus of our marriage. There are other things that are more important than sex."
"Name one!" Brian challenged.
"Women just aren't as interested in sex as men are. It's a fact of life. They don't approach sex the same way men do, with that same energy and intensity. And not all men have the kind of intensity that you do, Baby!" said Ron, closing his eyes in contentment as Baby's long fingers worked up and down his thick cock.
"Fuck me again! Please?" Baby demanded. "You're nice and hard!"
"I'd like to get a little sleep tonight, you know," Ron sighed. "I have a lot of work to do tomorrow in the Law Library."
"You can sleep any time!" Bri Baby reasoned. "Who wants to sleep when you can fuck?"
"Who, indeed?" Ron agreed, rolling the kid over.
"They're at it again," said one of the men in the next cell.
"If you had that bitch in your bunk wouldn't you be fucking it as often as you could?" said the guy's cellie. "I listen to them go at it and jerk myself off all night long!"
"Yeah," his pal whispered back. "It's better than a porno movie -- and a hell of a lot cheaper!"
The two guys laughed as they pressed their ears to the wall of their cell to hear better. And they weren't disappointed. Not disappointed at all.
Posted June 22, 2005.