This was written as a submission for Smythofsky Holiday Week (Day #4 Theme – Forbidden Romance).

Everything I know about prison and the US legal system came from television and google, so there are probably glaring inaccuracies, sorry. I'm adding a list of phrases and meanings I'm using just in case, although most of them are probably well known.

SHU: Solitary Housing Unit, aka The Hole, aka Solitary Confinement
shanked: getting stabbed by a makeshift weapon (like a toothbrush with the end filed into a point)
Boss: a nickname inmates often use for officers
X: Ecstacy/MDMA
bitchmeat: basically an inmate to be used to sex; like a bitch but a dirtier phrase as if the person is nothing more than a piece of meat to be fucked
gen-pop: general population – the inmates that aren't confined to Solitary and who share normal cells and activities

Solitary

Sebastian winced and gently thumbed the split on his lip as the door slammed shut on his cell. He hadn't been quick enough to avoid a hit this time, but it didn't matter. It would heal and it got him where he wanted to be. It had taken more effort than usual; the other inmates, contrary to popular belief, were capable of learning (slowly, perhaps, but evidence suggested they were catching on) so getting one riled up enough at him to actually start trouble was becoming more and more difficult. It had taken four days of him being an arrogant smartass and throwing around disrespect before he finally managed to get sent back to Solitary. And he'd earned a hard and fast smack in the face with a dinner tray for the effort.

"You been wagging that tongue 'round today, Smythe. Need something to keep it occupied?"

Sebastian snorted. "I doubt you're equipped enough to keep anyone's tongue occupied."

His words had been calculated – he knew Andrews was on the edge of snapping, but Sebastian had expected some yelling first, maybe a clumsy fist; not the speed with which the tray in front of him connected with his mouth. It was louder than it was painful, just a sharp sting in his lip followed by a trickle of blood, but the guards were pulling a spitting and screaming Andrews away immediately.

"Smythe! You're back in Solitary."

On the plus side, Andrews – all psycho tendencies and no common sense – had shouted enough loud death threats that Sebastian would be in the SHU for at least a week. Andrews would be in Confinement too, as a punishment rather than protection, but everyone knew he ran with a crowd and the guards weren't stupid enough to let Sebastian get shanked on their watch, considering who his father was.

"Man, be careful with him. Not too rough."

"Whatever," the officer scoffed, "he's just a scrawny little bitch. He doesn't even have someone watching his back in here…what's he gonna do?"

"I'm serious. Don't you know who his father is?"

Not that the elder Smythe was still State Attorney; unsurprisingly he'd lost that position once his son was convicted as an accessory to murder. With the circumstances being what they were, it had been downgraded to a misdemeanor charge – and really, Sebastian had been blackmailed so he thought it was unfair he'd been convicted at all – but it still carried a prison sentence and was enough for his father to be shamed into a forced resignation. That didn't mean he wasn't still a threat to the law enforcement officers watching his son, though. Sebastian's father wasn't referred to as "The Shark Smythe" behind his back for nothing and he still had plenty of friends in high places. If Sebastian didn't come out of his imprisonment in the same pristine condition he went in – well, the guards could hardly afford to lose their jobs; most of them were qualified for little else.

And so, nine and a half months into his one year sentence, Sebastian had spent approximately two-thirds of his time in the Solitary Housing Unit. He tried not to think about how he'd have been out over three months prior if he'd just learned to keep his snark to himself before prison. It was pointless, because he hadn't learned any such thing and he'd lost the chance at his six month good-behavior parole in his very first week; he'd mouthed off to the wrong person and had unintentionally started a riot in the mess hall.

"Stupid move, Newbie. You're going into the SHU."

"The what?" Sebastian had no idea what he was in for, but it couldn't be anything good. He hadn't meant to start a full on riot, hadn't meant to start anything; he just wasn't in the practice of keeping his mouth shut. It wasn't his fault that when he'd moved away from the fist flying at him it connected with someone else.

"Solitary Housing Unit. The Hole. Consider it protection instead of punishment. You better smarten up, Kid, or you're gonna end up as a chunk of bitchmeat or a smear on the floor."

That was the first time he'd been sent to the SHU, ostensibly for his protection but mostly because he was an obnoxious asshole, so the guards were pretty sure he'd get himself killed. If that happened they'd be out of a job and basically unemployable pretty damn quickly. And yes, he'd lost any opportunity at getting out after six months but he'd also met Dave, so he still hadn't decided if the situation overall was a win or loss for him.

He wised up fast after his first stint away from the other inmates – the general population in prison was really no place for a guy like him; smart mouth, pretty features, and a vicious streak that was unfortunately all verbal with not enough physical strength to back it up. He'd come close to playing the unwilling bitch more times that he cared to admit. Although he might have enjoyed a little rough play before prison, the issue of consent always mattered to him, especially when the consent in question was his own. So it didn't take long for him to accept that Solitary was the place for him, assuming he could find ways to get sent there.

Which he did. Often. And if part of the appeal rested in the late night correctional officer, well, nobody else had to know.

The flap on Sebastian's cell door slid open.

"Hey. Smythe, right?"

Sebastian lifted his head from his pillow and spotted a face through the door's reinforced window.

He stood and made his way to the door cautiously. He'd been getting himself sent to Solitary on and off for almost a month. It had been a blessing, spending the time alone instead of surrounded by the other inmates. He knew for most it was a punishment, but it didn't feel that way to him, especially not after the way he'd been pressed against the wall in the showers three days earlier. He had barely escaped with whatever precious little virtue someone like him could claim.

"Yes?" he questioned, suspiciously. The last thing he needed was for the sanctuary of Solitary to disappear. Through the window he could see the late night officer; a beefy guy with broad shoulders and a friendly face. Sebastian had mentally dubbed him 'Officer Smokey', partly because he was a stereotypical bear, and partly because Sebastian found him smoking hot.

"Look, I know I'm not supposed to talk to you unless it's an emergency, but you've been in here more lately than any other gen-pop guy and I just gotta know. What are you doin', man? Jenson thinks you're here on purpose. You're gonna make yourself crazy being alone all the time."

He looked genuine, so Sebastian shrugged and answered honestly. "It's safer here. And I like the quiet."

The officer frowned. "Well, maybe you're crazy already, then."

"You might be right, Boss," Sebastian smirked.

"Don't," he hesitated, "I hate that. Just…call me Karofsky."

Karofsky was a big, burly guy. He was friendly enough, if you didn't cause trouble – and he was tough enough that most didn't around him. He was the officer on graveyard duty in the SHU on Tuesdays through to Saturdays, and eventually he was also the officer that spent a significant amount of time with Sebastian before and after his patrol walks.

"Back again, Seb? It's been two and a half months, and you've been in here more than in gen-pop. I thought you'd be sick of this place by now."

"Must be the company," Sebastian flirted as he wandered up to the cell door, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Jesus! What the fuck happened to your eye?!"

He grimaced at the look on Karofsky's face. He hadn't actually seen it, but he was pretty sure it looked bad. "Would you believe I walked into a door?" he joked.

"Must have been an angry door. Didn't anyone even look at that for you? There's still blood…fuck. Look, Seb, just…shit...I'm coming in, okay?"

"You aren't worried I'm going to attack you?"

Karofsky snorted. "Nope. Besides, I'm pretty sure I can take you, buddy." He opened the cell door and came in, handing Sebastian a handkerchief. "Run that under your tap. I'm going to try and clean up your eye."

"I…thanks, Karofsky."

Sebastian did as he was told. He hadn't expected to make a friend in prison, but he was pretty sure that's what Karofsky had become. He sat on his cot, leaning towards the officer as he dabbed carefully at the swelling along Sebastian's eye and the side of his face. It didn't matter that Sebastian was an inmate and Karofsky was an officer; for some reason they trusted each other.

"You're welcome," Karofsky replied, smiling at him gently. "My name is Dave, by the way."

"Dave, huh? It suits you."

They had become friends somehow, real friends, then they'd become more.

It had started as just something to do; Solitary was safe but boring, and Sebastian wasn't used to abstaining for any length of time. The inmates were all unappealing to him, unattractive, or too-aggressive in a way that wasn't sexy in the slightest. But Dave was – well. Dave was exactly Sebastian's type.

Months of late night fucking turned into something more somewhere along the path; Sebastian's reasons for ending up in Confinement became less about self-preservation and more about keeping himself sane by seeing Dave. Eventually, Sebastian found himself counting the hours until they would see each other, and he could tell by the look on Dave's face when they did that he felt the same.

Sebastian fucking loved it. Loved him, even.

It was late when the door to his cell opened, but it always was. There was no way Dave would risk sneaking in until he was the only one in the area. There was supposed to be a second guard on duty at all times, but the prison was short staffed, so instead they had Dave on alone and an officer from gen-pop would be on call. They would come around twice during the night for rounds or when Dave called because he needed to open a cell for any reason. It wasn't quite up to regulation, but it worked well in their favor.

"I shouldn't be here."

Sebastian smirked in the darkened room then folded his arms behind his head to stare at the ceiling, spreading his legs suggestively and silently gloating in triumph when he felt Dave's eyes raking over him. He'd shed everything but his underwear and he knew he looked good. "You always say that."

"You shouldn't be here either, Sebastian, fuck," Dave sighed as he sat beside him on the narrow bed. The frustration in his voice was clear and it pained Sebastian to know that even though his carefully calculated actions gave them time together, they still left Dave feeling upset.

"I like solitary. The only guy who wants my ass in here is one I want to want it."

Dave choked out half a laugh and shook his head. "You're going to get me fired."

"You always say that, too," Sebastian whispered as he sat up and pressed his lips to the skin behind Dave's ear, "but you always come visit me anyway. Relax, babe, nobody is going to find out."

"Relax, hot stuff, nobody is going to find out."

Sebastian cringed at his own words, an accidental echo of the moment his life went downhill. Maybe Dave was right. The last thing he wanted was to ruin Dave's life the way he'd ruined his own.

"I don't know…why don't we go back to my place?"

"Come on," the guy – Rick, Sebastian reminded himself – coaxed, "that's what the private rooms are for. And I want to keep partying after."

"Drugs aren't really my thing…"

"Live a little, man. It's just X. It'll make everything feel better."

Sebastian needed things to feel better after the way his week had ended. Besides, Rick was hot and fun. The way he curled his tongue against Sebastian's was promising, and Sebastian had had just enough scotch to listen to him.

He'd gone to the private room with him, reassured by the fact that it was just the two of them, and he let loose.

The next morning his muscles and jaw were achy, his mouth felt dry, and even though he knew everything had felt hot and fantastic at the time, he felt a sick lurch of regret.

He'd been at a high end gay club called "Scandals" – his favorite, though he didn't go often. Sebastian was used to people hitting on him, so the guy hadn't seemed suspicious at the time, but looking back he still kicked himself for falling for it.

Sebastian glared at the screen in front of him. The video was paused and Sebastian could clearly see himself. It had obviously been filmed two nights earlier; it showed the private room he'd been in with Rick. Those rooms were known to be completely anonymous, which meant someone had planted a camera; he'd been set up. It had been his first and only time taking Ecstasy, but you wouldn't know it from the video – it had shown everything, from the time he and Rick entered the room and he took the pill, to the sex they'd had, and after – once the drugs kicked in and everything felt easy and amazing. It showed the way he hadn't argued when Rick brought two other guys in the room, how he just went with it. At the time everything felt so good it hadn't even occurred to him to stop.

"You're going to keep your mouth shut, aren't you, Smythe?"

Hunter Clarington Jr. watched him expectantly, coldly. Sebastian had caught him embezzling money from his own father's company; the multi-billion dollar hedge fund that Sebastian worked for, the same business Hunter was heir and V.P. to. He'd spent the weekend trying not to think about what he would do, how he would approach Clarington Sr. about something so delicate.

It was part of the reason he'd been out partying on Saturday night. He'd needed an escape. He hadn't expected his escape to turn into his prison.

When he'd arrived at work that morning, the entire office was in turmoil. Clarington Sr. had died unexpectedly the night before. No one knew how, or if they did, they weren't talking.

He'd confronted Hunter, had demanded to know how his father had died. The man had been healthy and was only in his mid-fifties. It may have been an accident, but it seemed too convenient considering what Sebastian had found out only days earlier. And Hunter had always been a snake. He didn't even deny it – just shrugged and said he was sick of waiting for nature to take its course; that Sebastian's discovery had forced his hand. As if it were somehow Sebastian's fault.

"What if I go to the police? I have proof of motive. I'm sure it would be enough for them to look deeper."

"You might not be worried about your own reputation," Hunter conceded, "but I don't imagine your father's reputation will escape the media coverage on his trouble-making, drug-abusing, sexual-deviant of a son, do you?"

"You murdered your own father, and now you want to blackmail me to help you cover it up?"

"Don't be ridiculous. I don't want you to do anything. The hard work is already done, Smythe. Just stay quiet and your whole family won't have to suffer the embarrassment of being associated with you and your depravity."

"Seb? Is something…are you okay?" Dave looked worried, and Sebastian realized he had tensed up. He forced himself to relax, loosening his shoulders and taking a deep breath.

"Yeah, I'm okay. I just…bad memories," he shook his head sadly and climbed out of Dave's lap. "God, maybe you're right. I mean…I don't want to fuck up your life. If you get caught…shit, Dave, I've been such a selfish prick. I'm sorry."

Dave frowned at Sebastian, pulling him back into his lap.

"No."

"What do you mean no?"

"You haven't been selfish. This is…I want this too. You're right, I keep doing it. It's my decision, and I keep making it. I know what I'm risking – this isn't on your shoulders, Seb. I'm the idiot making the dumb choice here."

Sebastian sighed deeply, resting his forehead against Dave's. "You should stop coming by."

"I should," Dave agreed as he pulled Sebastian closer to him and pressed a sloppy kiss to the corner of his mouth, "but I won't. This is where I want to be."

A search of Dave's eyes revealed nothing but honesty. Sebastian knew he should be the smart one, should be the stronger man and walk away before Dave suffered for it. They could stop this, at least until Sebastian's sentence was over and he was a free man. After that they could be together and it wouldn't matter anymore.

Two and a half months, that was all. He just needed to be strong, patient.

Dave's hands shifted, sliding up Sebastian's back to curl around his shoulders. Sebastian groaned as the calloused palms dragged along his skin, warm and possessive – he'd never been a strong nor patient man.

He struggled waiting two and a half days to see Dave, he'd never last that many months.

"I wish I was strong enough to end this, for your sake," he moaned as Dave bit into Sebastian's shoulder and worked his mouth along the skin towards his neck, "but I'm not. Fuck, Dave. I need you."

Dave licked a stripe across Sebastian's throat and paused. "You've got me."

Their lips met and Sebastian forgot what he was worrying over. He melted into it, responding to Dave's probing tongue with his own. Dave's lips were dry but soft and Sebastian gasped against them, pushing further until he could sink into the wet heat of Dave's mouth and chase the lingering taste of coffee.

Kissing Dave was so different to kissing anyone else. It was more. Sebastian knew in his head that it was much the same physically, but it felt softer, deeper and more emotional. Even when the kisses moved from sweet and slow to hot and dirty he felt connected somehow. Sebastian suspected that even if they could have nothing more than this he could keep going, could stay sane, on Dave's kisses alone.

Sebastian, however, had already proven himself to be hopeless as a martyr and he hoped he'd never have to test that theory. He let his fingers fall from where they'd been gripping the short strands of Dave's hair. They moved to the front of his uniform, quickly working open the top few buttons so he could feel Dave's skin against his hands and his chest hair tickling his fingertips. He couldn't wait for the day that he could peel every layer off Dave and press fully against his bare skin, but it was too risky in their situation and he had to make do with what little he could get.

He rocked his hips forward when Dave palmed his ass, skimming his fingers down the sensitive skin of his cleft through the thin cotton of his underwear. "Mmm…fuck, Dave, please."

"Anything you want Seb, just tell me."

Sebastian shifted back until he could pop the button on Dave's slacks and unzip the fly. He cupped the hard flesh straining against Dave's boxers and squeezed. "I want you to fuck me, and I don't want to mess around. I want it hard and fast and now."

Dave let out a harsh breath at Sebastian's words, eyes darkening and tongue running along his teeth. Sebastian followed the movement with his eyes for a moment before finding himself face down on the cot without warning. He moaned as Dave's heavy weight settled over him, hot mouth between his shoulder blades and hard cock grinding against his ass.

"Fuck…yes…"

A strong arm wrapped around his hips, hoisting them up until Sebastian's face was pressed into his forearms, his hips in the air. Dave's fingers grasped the elastic of Sebastian's underwear, peeling it down quickly until it was puddled at his knees and Sebastian could feel the cheap polyester of Dave's uniform against his haunches, contrasting with the firm, hot flesh sliding against his cheeks.

Fingers pressed against Sebastian's hole, lube-slick and probing. He relaxed against them, spreading his thighs further and arching until he felt the digits slide in slowly, fighting resistance as his rim stretched around them. Starting with two fingers meant Dave was impatient, ready to fuck him exactly the way he wanted; hard and fast and wasting no time.

It didn't take long for his body to relax, for Dave's fingers to pump in and out smoothly and easily. When the burn faded Sebastian whined, pushing back into Dave's hand. "More."

A third digit worked its way in beside the other two, but it wasn't enough. He only waited for the worst of the stretch to ease before he reached behind himself, grabbing at Dave's wrist. He felt Dave pause and he dug his fingers into skin. "Forget the prep, Dave. I want your fucking cock in me."

Dave grunted, pulling his fingers away. Sebastian tried not to feel disappointed at the loss and instead focused on the promising sound of foil crinkling. It wasn't long before he felt the blunt head of Dave's dick slipping across his entrance and he grabbed his own ass, spreading his cheeks so that Dave could see him better in the dim light.

"Jesus, Seb," Dave muttered, using one hand to steady himself.

"Stop making me wait, Dave, or I swear I will jerk off and you can take care of yoursel—fuck!" Sebastian gasped as Dave thrust balls-deep into him with one strong movement. It stretched – fuck, it hurt – but in the best possible way. Once he was inside, Dave didn't hold back, pounding into Sebastian with long, hard stabs that left him whining and curling his fingers into his pillow.

Dave's pace was relentless and Sebastian reveled in it, sparks shooting along his spine with every stroke against his prostate. He stuffed his palm into his mouth to keep from shouting as Dave spent several minutes fucking into him, working his spot until Sebastian felt edgy and desperate. His erection was so hard it was straining, leaking, throbbing. He wanted to fist it, but he couldn't; was barely managing to hold himself up with the way Dave was rutting against him.

He was teetering on the edge, so close but something was holding him back.

"Dave...s-so close."

"Fuck, Seb. You're gonna come just from my cock, huh? You like it ramming into you like that?"

"Shit…yes," Sebastian wailed into his pillow as heat shot through his gut and his balls tightened, "yesyesyesyes oh fuck."

Harsh pain dug into his hips as Dave's fingers tensed in a bruising grip. The sudden sensation wrenched Sebastian's climax from him and he came intensely, spurting thick stripes onto the thin mattress beneath him. He felt Dave sink into him one last time before he stilled, groaning loudly then slowly rocking his way shallowly through his own orgasm.

Once Dave caught his breath he eased out of Sebastian, leaving him feeling empty but content. Sebastian rolled onto his back, ignoring the wet patch as he watch Dave tie off the condom and wrap it in toilet paper.

Dave leaned over him, zipping himself up and kissing Sebastian gently, nuzzling against his cheek for a moment. "I better go."

"Not yet. Just…stay a little longer, please?" Sebastian knew he sounded needy, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

"Seb, if I get caught here with you, I'm in so much trouble."

"I know," he admitted, "it's just…I fucking hate it. I hate that it's so wrong. It doesn't feel wrong. You're just…just being with me. It's not like you're sneaking me out of here or smuggling me drugs."

"Jesus, don't you get it? That's—I'm such an idiot that I'd do anything you ask me to. Even that."

"You're not an idiot, and I'm not asking you to do anything more than be with me. I wouldn't. I just want to get through the next few months and…I…seeing you makes it easier."

He watched Dave, waiting for a reaction. He didn't know what he expected, but Dave's face softened.

"That's…" Dave looked uncertain how to continue and the hesitation Sebastian saw stung.

"What is it? Talk to me."

Dave looked away. "What about after you get out? What then?"

Sebastian frowned. "What—? Dave…what do you think happens then?"

"I think—well," he paused then shook his head and sighed. "I think you won't need me anymore and I'll be left feeling like shit."

And that was so far from how Sebastian felt he almost laughed. How could Dave not see how utterly stupid Sebastian was over him?

"Wow. I've changed my mind. You're right; you are an idiot, if that's what you think."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that I'm not spending most of my time in Solitary just because it's safer. And I'm not sleeping with you to scratch an itch or whatever the fuck you think I'm doing." Sebastian ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "Jesus, Dave, I could be safe and get laid by playing bitch to some tough guy in gen-pop, if that's all I wanted. But that's not…I want you. When I'm out of here we can be together properly and you don't need to worry about losing your job over it."

"I…that's…are you serious?" Dave's eyes were wide, and Sebastian met them directly, hoping his sincerity was clear.

"Completely."

Dave dropped to his knees beside the bed, huffing out a relieved laugh and burying his face in Sebastian's hair.

"Fuck, Seb. I want that, too. I do. But I don't think it's going to be that easy."

"Who needs easy?" Sebastian joked. "So maybe we'll need to keep it quiet for a bit. Probably don't go announcing it to your coworkers the day I get out or anything. But we'll figure it out."

Sebastian leaned into Dave as fingers carded through his hair. Dave looked hopeful. His lips were curling into a soft smile and he gently bumped his nose into Sebastian's temple. "I believe you."

"Good," Sebastian murmured, "because I'm right. Now…straighten up that uniform, Boss. It won't do to get caught now."

Dave rolled his eyes as he buttoned up his shirt. Sebastian ran his gaze up and down Dave's body, searchingly. Finding nothing out of place, he nodded. "You're good."

"Thanks," Dave answered, giving Sebastian a quick but deep kiss goodbye. He made his way out of the cell, pulling the door closed behind him. Just before it shut, his head popped back in and he furrowed his brow at Sebastian. "And don't call me Boss!"

"Yes, Boss," Sebastian smirked as the door closed and locked.