Feedback is most appreciated at: jb7811@bellsouth.net
Disclaimer: The boys belong to Fontana/Levinson and various other
corporate entities. They are used without permission in a manner
their creator probably never intended, although who knows for sure?
Warnings: None. General spoilers for Season 3, I suppose.
Notes: Thanks to Nicole, Melissa, and Shug for all kinds of valuable
beta-type stuff. Thanks to Mouse for her insightful help with the
final edit. Do I even have to mention that I'm going to stop listening
to Our Lady Peace when I'm in slashy frame of mind? This time it
was "Waited" that did it, and that has nothing to do with the story itself
other than being the catalyst.
Summary: Ryan muses, Sean dreams, questions are asked and not really answered...
-------------------
Ryan rested his arms on the second floor railing and looked out over Emerald City, keeping Cyril in his peripheral vision at all times. Said and Beecher were parked off to one side, backs to the wall as they did what Ryan was doing. He knew their observations were probably completely different from his own. Said with his notions of redemption, Beecher with dreams of revenge. Well, maybe not so different on that count. Ryan had a few fantasies of revenge himself, but he was working on making them reality. Who knew what Beecher was planning? He'd been gung ho on the idea of using Andy to hurt Vern, but then he'd felt guilty about it, so maybe he was losing his taste for getting even.
Ryan shifted his attention to Chris Keller and almost smiled. The man was watching Beecher and Said with a mix of jealousy and that look a dog gets when you tease it just once too often, kinda pitiful and angry at the same time. He looked like he was ready to snap at Said for taking his bone away. Ryan looked forward to seeing how it all shook out. Said had no jizz anymore, and Beecher had never had any in the first place. His crazy act--and Ryan did believe it was at least partly an act-- had kept the wolves at bay, but he seemed to have dropped that particular defense.
Speaking of crazy puppies, there went Miguel Alvarez trailing after El Cid. When Ryan first came to Oz, Miguel had been on top, running his gang's business and getting things done. Now he wasn't much more than a lap dog and it made Ryan a little sad to see it. He actually liked Alvarez-- as much as he *liked* anybody in this place. The guy was all right, and he and Ryan had done some deals that were mutually beneficial. El Cid, on the other hand, was a danger to Ryan's plans and needed to be eliminated somehow. He had an idea or two that he was still working out. Hernandez would be taken care of all in good time.
For several minutes, Ryan watched. He watched the Italians and the G's, the Muslims and the Bikers, the Aryans and the Latinos, and the misfits that didn't belong to anyone but themselves. Most of them trying to get over anyway they could, at any cost. Just like him, except that most of them didn't see the lengths the others would go to. But Ryan did. He knew what each man was capable of--even if the man in question wasn't *likely* to go the distance, Ryan knew how far each man might go if pushed. He was also aware of when to give that little push and when to back off and let a guy go on his own.
And that thought brought his eyes to the control center and Sean Murphy, the one man in Em City that Ryan was actually trying to avoid using at the moment. He'd used the hack before and he knew he would again, that was his nature and he had no intention of changing. But right now, he had other thoughts in mind about Officer Murphy. Vaguely--disturbingly--physical thoughts that left his mouth dry and his skin too warm. Confusing thoughts that kept him awake at night and made him watch the other man and wait. After survival, waiting was what prison was all about. Waiting for release, a parole hearing, the end of lockdown, lunch... there was always something to wait for. When it came to Murphy, Ryan wasn't quite sure what it was he was waiting for. Something to get his sleep back and the hack out of his mind, maybe.
Between his need to make Schillinger suffer and taking care of Cyril, Ryan certainly had enough to worry about without wondering where Sean Murphy went when his shift ended. He got to leave Oz, which was depressing enough that Ryan had avoided the thought for as long as he could. He'd never cared what the other hacks did, never gave their private lives a single thought. But Sean had made him curious enough to think about it.
There was something about Sean Murphy that was... just... different. Oh, he walked like a hack and talked like a hack--some of the time--and he took people to the Hole just like any other hack. But he hadn't taken *Ryan* to the Hole on a few occasions when that had surely been his destination. He hadn't taken Cyril for fighting, just told Ryan to control him better. Now why would Murphy go easy on the O'Reilly brothers? Was it the Irish or something else?
Ryan watched Murphy answer the phone and consult some papers on his desk. After a short conversation, he hung up, said something to the hack standing nearby, and then walked up the stairs to the second tier. For just a moment, Ryan held his breath as Murphy headed straight for him. He let it out silently as the hack walked past him and started talking to one of Adebisi's crew. 'What the fuck is wrong with me now? Damn, Ryan, get it together,' he thought to himself, exasperated.
Watching the hack lead the inmate away toward McManus's office, Ryan was struck by the air of...something...confidence, maybe, that surrounded Murphy. He'd almost noticed it before when Murphy told him about the Black Irish, but he'd been preoccupied with figuring out how to help Cyril and the observation had slipped away only to make itself known now. Murphy seemed to know exactly who he was, where he'd come from--even hundreds of years back-- and where he was going. Of course, Ryan couldn't begin to guess the particulars, but Murphy knew those things and more.
Ryan knew where he himself was going--nowhere--and he knew where he'd been, as far back as two generations anyway. And he used to know himself that well, but now he wasn't so sure. It had all been so simple, the good and the bad, and he had a complete handle on it. Well, he thought he did until the cancer.
The cancer had made him really look at himself for the first time. Lying in a hospital bed with nothing better to do and the threat of death hanging over his head had encouraged all kinds of introspection that he'd been blissfully ignoring his entire life. And when all the treatments were over and he was declared "cured", the introspection stayed a part of him. Having Cyril to take care of *in here* had also changed Ryan's view of himself. He couldn't hand off the responsibility to Shannon or a cousin or an aunt anymore. It was all on Ryan to make sure that Cyril stayed safe and relatively happy. Caring for Cyril was almost a full time job in itself and every time he got fed up with it, his own guilt would rise up and choke him. His own actions had made Cyril this way, so now he would take care of him. That was only right, and he'd known it long before that self-righteous old bitch Aunt Brenda had said so.
Sean Murphy claimed to have brothers and to understand what Ryan was going through, but did he really? Did he know what it was like to have to watch his own back *and* his brother's every minute of the day that they weren't locked in a pod together? Did he know what it was like to resent someone almost as much as he loved him? Could he possibly know what it felt like to know that the one person he could really trust was also no help at all in most situations? Somehow, Ryan didn't think so. But if thinking he understood Ryan made the hack go easy on the O'Reilly brothers, Ryan wasn't going to complain too much.
As soon as Murphy came back from wherever he'd gone, Ryan came to the uncomfortable realization that he'd been waiting for the hack. He'd been staring after him like some schoolgirl, and annoyed with himself, he immediately turned away to check on Cyril.
When Cyril excitedly announced it was time for Miss Sally's Schoolyard, Ryan grinned and followed his brother down to the chairs already filling up in front of the television. For the next half-hour, Ryan's only thoughts were of how lucky those stupid puppets were.
*******
Sean Murphy looked down at the inmates watching children's television with a touch of amusement. Trust this bunch of reprobates to turn something innocent into borderline pornography. But then again, what else did they have? It's not like they could kick back and watch those late night movies on Cinemax like he could--not that he *did*. He was more of an ESPN or Discovery Channel kind of guy. What movies he did watch were generally on AMC or Turner Classics.
In fact, Ryan O'Reilly reminded him a bit of the characters in some of those old movies. Bad guys, played by James Cagney and Humphrey Bogart, who did whatever they had to in the name of survival. The bold, take-what-you-want-and-damn-the-rules kind of man that Sean had never been, or never *allowed* himself to be. Ryan was one of those men whose concepts of right and wrong were flexible, easily molded to fit his agenda, and Sean almost envied him that freedom. He nearly laughed at his own foolishness. He couldn't allow himself to romanticize these guys. Ryan or any of the others down there would cut out his heart given half a chance at freedom. Hell, most of them would do it for less reason-- because he was the enemy or because they just liked to kill.
Glancing over at Simon Adebisi and Kenny Wangler, Murphy wondered just what all was going on there. Adebisi had some hold on the boy, and Murphy didn't think it was the usual prag thing. He'd read Adebisi's file along with all the others and that was one man that was definitely in the "liked to kill" category. Whacking a cop's head off with a machete was not self-defense or an accident or even a miscalculation. That was a murder to make the blood run cold.
Yes, Adebisi certainly bore watching, but that was just part of the job. His interest in Ryan O'Reilly was something else, something more personal. He knew it was ridiculous and possibly dangerous to let his mind wander in that direction, but knowing didn't stop that twisted feeling in the pit of his stomach when Ryan talked to him. And it didn't stop the dreams at night.
Most of the time, Sean woke from the dreams hard and aching, frustrated beyond belief, but on a few occasions he had come in his sleep like a teenager in the throes of puberty. Even if there was no one around to know, he still felt slightly embarrassed to wake up in sticky damp shorts after dreaming of an inmate of all people. Why couldn't he have gotten a crush on Sister Peter Marie, or another CO? Being attracted to someone unattainable wasn't that big of a problem-- it was being attracted to a *felon* that gave him a queasy feeling.
This desire that he had for O'Reilly was impossible. Murphy knew that, but his realistic nature deserted him in sleep. The most painful dream he'd had was just a few nights ago. It had started as a little dropping-off-to-sleep fantasy that he occasionally let himself indulge in...
// Answering the knock on his door, Sean was pleased to find Ryan standing there with an open smile on his face and a piece of paper in his hand. "Hey Sean, look at this! I got paroled! I'm outta fuckin' Oz, man. Can you believe it?"
Sean shook his head slowly, knowing it couldn't possibly be, and snatched the paper out of Ryan's hand. His heart pounded as he read the official-looking document that declared Ryan O'Reilly a free man. "You got out of prison and you came to see *me*? What for?" A laugh softer than any he'd ever heard before made him open his eyes and stare at the man on his doorstep.
Ryan's eyes twinkled and his head tilted to one side as he said, "I couldn't stay away, Sean. You're the first person I thought of when I walked out of the gate." //
And Murphy had drifted off to sleep with a smile on his face...
// "How'd you find me?"
"I have my ways. Doesn't matter," Ryan murmured, stepping forward and shutting the door behind him. His arms wrapped tightly around Sean like tentacles, caressing and suffocating. "I'm here now."
Sean opened his mouth: to protest or to question, he wasn't sure which. Firm, warm lips met his and all thoughts of speaking fled. Ryan's wet tongue touched his and all thoughts of any kind fled, and he gave into the overwhelming sensations of lust, relief, and excitement. He became a big ball of *feeling*, fiery and intense, aching for more. More of Ryan's mouth, more of his hands, more of everything.
Then, Sean suddenly found himself in his bedroom, lying naked on the bed with an equally naked Ryan on top of him, sort of floating over him and looking down with shadowed eyes. "I'm not sure what to do next." Ryan laughed suddenly, surprisingly shaky, and admitted, "I *always* know what to do. I'm the fucking king of knowing what to do."
"It's okay. I know," Sean replied, flipping the other man over as if he weighed nothing. He ran his hands down Ryan's arms and laced their fingers together. Lifting their joined hands over Ryan's head, Sean lowered his mouth to his new lover's and took possession. With sweet slow kisses, he showed Ryan all that he felt and all that he wanted. He might have gone on kissing the younger man forever if Ryan hadn't started bucking his hips against Sean's, rubbing their erections together.
Sean released Ryan's mouth and slithered down his body. Without asking permission or giving a warning, he took Ryan's cock in his mouth before the other man could make a sound. As the silky hardness slid across his tongue toward the back of his throat, all Sean could think was 'We fit.' He took complete control. He could do anything he wanted to Ryan right now, and that power gave him an incredible rush. Damn the rules. He was going to fuck Ryan whenever and however he wanted to...
The taste of Ryan's skin was an utter delight, and Sean feasted on it like a starving man. He sucked on Ryan's cock until they were both gasping for breath, then he teased his lover by briefly licking just the head of his cock, keeping the contact light and teasing. He nibbled his way down the tender skin of Ryan's inner thigh and then up the other leg, until his nose bumped into Ryan's balls. He nuzzled the velvety sac, inhaling the musky scent of aroused male until his head swam.
A frustrated-sounding moan drew Sean's attention to the head of the bed and he raised his head to find Ryan's burning eyes on him, silently pleading for completion. Sean murmured reassurances as he crawled back up to Ryan's open mouth. Ryan met the kisses with equal intensity, biting at Sean's lower lip then licking the small hurt away. But when Sean spread Ryan's legs farther apart and settled his body between them, Ryan stopped kissing and cursed so quietly that Sean felt the words more than heard them.
"What is it?" Sean dusted light kisses over Ryan's jaw, then ran his tongue down the younger man's throat, pausing right beside the thin gold chain to suck lightly at the junction of neck and shoulder.
Strong hands grabbed his shoulders and pushed roughly, making Sean draw back in surprise. "What? What's wrong?"
"I won't be your prag, Murphy." Ryan sneered and pushed Sean off him.
Sean fell back on the bed, vulnerable and worried, but mostly just confused. "What are you... You're not in prison anymore, Ryan. It's okay now. Just let me..." He reached out, only to have Ryan smack his hands away.
"My lovers don't have chest hair, Murphy. They have breasts. I'm not a fag..."
"Like me?" Sean whispered the words as Ryan stood up and began to dress, becoming more remote with every article of clothing he put on. Unable to fully absorb the pain, Sean tried to make sense of what was happening. "But you came to me..."
"Sorry, my mistake." But Ryan didn't look sorry at all to Sean's eyes as he turned and walked out the door. //
"Aw, Murphy, not you, too. It's bad enough all the prisoners are lusting after Miss Sally." The other CO's voice pulled Murphy from the memory of waking up in a cold sweat, feeling like he was going to throw up. It took him a moment to make sense of what the other man was saying and when he caught on, he smiled sheepishly and shrugged. He had been staring blindly toward the television area, but now he shuffled his papers and glanced at the clock.
He sighed in relief when he saw his shift was almost over. A CO whose mind wasn't on his job was soon a dead CO. He had to get over this attraction, this desire, this...*insanity*. He liked working at Oz and he liked working with Tim, even though their friendship was problematic at times. But he might have to consider going back to Attica or finding some other place to work, even if he had to move to another state to do it.
While he waited for his replacement, Murphy looked over the common, watching the prisoners carefully for any sign of trouble as their favorite show went off and the news came on. The men were fairly well behaved today, and Murphy hoped they stayed that way for the next shift.
He watched Ryan O'Reilly leave his brother with a few words and a stern look and head toward his pod. At the top of the stairs, Ryan stopped and looked at Murphy. Sean wanted to look away but felt caught in the other man's gaze. After a moment that felt like an eternity, O'Reilly nodded shortly and turned away, releasing Murphy.
As the inmate walked confidently into his pod, Murphy shook his head ruefully. There went a man who was certain of the world and his place in it. Murphy envied him that surety of self, if not the circumstances that had most likely brought him to it.
When Miguel Alvarez followed Ryan a few minutes later, Murphy told himself he wasn't jealous. He made himself believe it as he greeted his replacement and left Em City. Just because Miguel could do all the things with Ryan that Murphy couldn't do, couldn't *allow* himself to do, didn't mean he was jealous--the idea was laughable. But for some reason, Sean didn't feel like laughing as he got ready to go home.
Maybe he'd stop by one of the bars he usually passed on his way home, and find some companionship. It was bound to be better than being miserable and alone, even if it was just a temporary replacement for what he really wanted and could never have.
The End.