Silver Lining
When a lamb of God shows up on the doorstep of a house of ill-repute, something wonderful is begun. Having lost his faith at an early age, Silver isn't interested in hearing any preaching. But when Daniel speaks, the happily sinful Silver is charmed into listening against his will.
Daniel is a young man determined to live a life of service and devotion. When a beautiful silver-haired man answers the door to him, he is startled to find himself confronted with the first real temptation of his life.
Daniel is a young man determined to live a life of service and devotion. When a beautiful silver-haired man answers the door to him, he is startled to find himself confronted with the first real temptation of his life.
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Chapters 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11
The Poisoned Pawn
A/N: This story came about because of a discussion between my friend and myself about the tv show Prison Break. We both admitted to really liking the character ‘Teabag’, even though he was horrible rapist and murderer. We just liked the guy who played him, I think…but that led to the idea for this story. It should be quite interesting. -DL
Chapter 1
He shuffled along between the two uniformed men, his eyes on the concrete floor. Terror made his limbs watery and his muscles jerk and twitch. He felt like his bladder or bowels might go at any moment, completing the horror. How could this be happening to him?! And why?! What did the universe have against him? What had he ever done to deserve this? Oh, God, he just wanted to go home!
But of course, that wasn’t going to happen. Not anytime soon, anyway. He had no choice but to walk down the corridor toward his new home - the home he’d have to live in for the next three years unless he could…Oh, dear God, he didn’t want to do this! But he wanted to serve three years for being a drug dealer even less, so he’d do what he had to.
Drug dealer. That was a good one, he thought wildly. This was all Randy’s fault. Randy, his former friend and occasional fuck buddy, who had borrowed his car and apparently used it to transport drugs. He’d thought that the cops would never search the car of someone as mild and law-abiding as his friend Scott was - and that might have been true, except for the fact that Scott had had the bad fortune to park his car near where a drug-sniffing dog was being petted and made much of by some school children at the school that he was visiting. The animal had come to a point and begun to bark, and the cops had swarmed all over his car. They’d found twenty pounds of cocaine in his tires, much to his absolute shock. No amount of protesting that he was innocent and that those weren’t his drugs at all had made a difference. His protests had all fallen on deaf ears. He’d been convicted of possession and sentenced to three years in prison.
Randy hadn’t come forward to admit to the fact that the cocaine belonged to him, of course. Scott had been left to twist in the wind, and his terror had been complete. He was a criminal, and he was going to have to serve three years in a horrible place where a gay pretty boy like him could expect to be passed around like a joint at a stoner party.
That is, until two men in dark suits had come to see him while he was waiting to be transferred to the state prison where he’d serve his sentence. These men had told Scott that he had two choices - serve out his full sentence, three miserable years in hell, or…do a favor for them. There was a certain prisoner in the facility that he was going to be transferred to. This man had information on the whereabouts of a shipment of gold that had ’gone missing’ en route to the Federal Treasury vaults. A shipment worth over forty million dollars. The government was absolutely sure that this man had had something to do with the gold going astray, but they had no proof whatsoever. The prisoner in question wasn’t serving a sentence for any of the robberies that they were sure that he’d committed. He was, ironically, serving a three year sentence for grand theft auto, because he’d been pulled over driving a Mercedes that he’d swiped to leave the scene of his last robbery.
They’d tried to get the judge to give him a longer sentence than three years so that they’d have time to work on him, but His Honor had been uninterested in their arguments. They had no evidence that the man had committed any of the robberies that they suspected that he had; and holding a man for crimes you couldn’t prove that he’d committed was unconstitutional. This was not Guantanamo Bay, the judge had told them dryly. This was America. And in America, all citizens had full rights under the law. Whether the men in suits liked it or not.
Our offer, the men in suits had told Scott, is just this - we’ll pull strings to get you put in a cell with this gentleman, and you make yourself his confidante. Get him to talk about his crimes. If you can do that, your sentence will be reduced to time served with probation, and we’ll put you in the Witness Protection Program to protect you until you can testify against him in court.
Scott had protested vociferously. How was he supposed to become the confidante of some criminal mastermind? He was just a (former) receptionist for a small design firm, nor was he big or strong enough to make this man talk to him if he didn’t want to. How was he supposed to accomplish this aim?
They’d only looked at him coolly for a moment, then one of them had leaned forward and folded his hands in front of him: “Mr. Dresdell, you must understand something,” he said. “This man’s one weakness seems to be pretty men. He apparently kept a succession of…err…’boy toys’ when he was still free and committing these crimes. And you yourself are…” his eyes had evaluated Scott clinically, “Quite attractive. Also, you are a homosexual, are you not?”
Scott had nodded numbly, not believing where this was going. The man in the suit had cleared his throat loudly. “Err, yes. With that in mind, we thought that the best idea would be for you to ‘befriend’ him. To gain his trust. Men, even gay men, are notorious for what is called ‘pillow talk’. Seduce him, and get him to spill his guts to you.”
He’d been dumbfounded. They wanted him to pretty much be a whore?! Seeing his expression, the man in the suit had said ruthlessly: “Your only other choice is to serve out your full sentence, and I believe that you’ll ‘become acquainted’ with many, many of the prisoners during your time there. Either that, or do this for us. It is well known that this man protects his property and doesn’t allow anyone else access to it. You would only have to have sex with him, rather than with numerous other prisoners. Isn’t that the lesser of two evils? Especially when this would be your ticket out of having to serve your full sentence?”
Scott knew that he was right. Much as he didn’t want to do this, it still beat being gang raped every day. So he’d agreed, even though he was terrified. Now he was on his way to the cell that would be his new home, and his new roommate - the man that he had to seduce and betray if he wanted to get out here early.
They arrived at a cell door, which slid open when the guard on his left spoke into his walkie-talkie. The guard on his right said: “Hey, Mazinar, you have a new…bunkmate!” and he laughed coarsely as he undid the handcuffs and pushed Scott forward into the cell with one hand. The door slid shut behind him with a clang, making him jump.
The small cell had a two-person bunk to one side, as well as a tiny toilet and sink against the far wall. There was a little table and a chair off to his right, and seated in the chair was a man reading a book. One leg was crossed over the other, and a long-fingered hand lowered the book to reveal an aquiline face with a proud arch of a nose, slightly dark skin, and a pair of assessing, lidded black eyes that ran over him in a cool regard that sent a chill down his spine. He was supposed to seduce a guy like this?! He was doomed…
A dark head cocked a bit to the side. “Welcome,” the man in the chair said quietly. “I’d offer you refreshments, but as you can see the accommodations leave much to be desired,” he waved his free hand at the bare cell, his lips lifting in the faintest of smiles.
Scott found his voice, though it trembled. “I…” he bit at his lower lip, trembling.
The man laid aside his book on the tiny table and rose to his feet. “Please don’t be afraid,” he said politely. “If we both are on our best behavior, life will flow fairly smoothly. I pride myself on my good manners,” he added, holding out his hand to Scott. “And I promise that no harm will come to you while we’re sharing this cell.”
Scott stared at the hand, hypnotized. At last he lifted his own, his fingers shaking, and found it being taken in a hard, firm grip with surprisingly smooth skin covering the hand. “I am Antonio Mazinar,” he remarked, and Scott noticed that his voice was very lightly accented.
“Umm…I’m Scott Dresdell,” he replied shakily.
“It is very nice to meet you, Scott,” Antonio Mazinar said. “I’ve been without a cellmate for over six months. It will be nice to have some company again.”
He swallowed thickly, trying to smile. Antonio glanced around. “I’ll have to have someone bring another chair,” he said. “But for now, you can make up your bunk and sit on it. If you don’t mind, you can have the lower one. I prefer to be on top,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone of voice, without a hint of innuendo in it.
“Uh, okay,” Scott turned toward the bunks, seeing that there was a rolled up set of bedding on the bare mattress. He walked past Antonio, who stepped back a little to let him by. As he bent over the bunk to grab the bedding, Scott wondered wildly what those guys in suits had been talking about. So far, the well-mannered man standing behind him hadn’t so much as given him the ‘once over’ or hit on him at all. Was he even gay? Or had they been completely wrong about him? And if they had been…shit. He swallowed, blinking back tears as he fumbled with the bedding. Ridiculous to be so miserable about a complete stranger NOT wanting to sleep with him…but his whole future hinged on the deal he’d made with the suits, so if he couldn’t carry it out he was screwed in more ways than one…
He finally got the bunk made up, and sat down gingerly on it. He looked up to see that Antonio had resumed his seat, and was watching Scott. The black eyes were still assessing, as though he were weighing everything about his new cell mate. Seeing that he was done, Antonio spoke up. “If you’re hungry, we go to dinner in less than an hour. I’ll introduce you around and make sure that everyone understands that you’re under my protection. No one will bother you once they know that.”
Scott felt his stomach twist inside of him. “How…how can you be sure of that?” he asked in a trembling voice.
“Suffice it to say that I have more than a little pull in this place,” Antonio said calmly. “The other prisoners will listen to me when I tell them to leave you alone and not bother you. That will be one less worry for you.”
“T-Thank you,” he stuttered, his hands wringing together in his lap. “I’m just…”
Scared,” Antonio finished for him. “And you should be. Prison is no pleasure cruise. Tell me, what are you in for, Scott?”
He related his tale of woe, and Antonio listened in silence until he was done. “How terrible for you,” he said, shaking his head. “What a wretched excuse for a friend. So now you must serve three years for something that you didn’t even do. At least I…” his lips lifted in a wry smile, “Did what I was incarcerated for.”
“What did you do?” Scott asked, as though he didn’t know already.
“I stole a car. Yes, I am a lowly car thief,” he went on, waving a self-deprecating hand at himself. “And not a very good one, either, as I was captured by the police in the midst of committing the crime. Ah, well. I have less than a year left on my sentence, and I can leave here a free man.”
Scott felt a twinge of guilt when he remembered just why he was in this cell with Antonio Mazinar. If he could get the man to confess to his other crimes, he was sure that Antonio would probably never get to leave prison at all. But…if he’d actually committed those crimes…shouldn’t he pay for them? Uncertain, miserable, he hunched on the bunk and wished desperately that he were anywhere else. Anywhere but here.
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