Page 5 of From Best To Bested

“Shut up.” Roman shoved Levi, always finding his ego boosts embarrassing with a twinge of humor.

Levi had been a frightened suburban rottweiler when Roman found him. A big, muscular guy who had several inches on Roman and easily thirty pounds of muscle. The fact was, Levi could’ve come into Marlow Penitentiary with a lot more clout if he knew how to capitalize on his intimidation, but he’d been raised to roll over and expose his belly far too much to ever be considered threatening.

Levi was soft and detoxing when Roman met him, and there was this genuine spirit about Levi that kept Roman’s head afloat in the first few excruciating weeks of his sentence. They’d both arrived at the same time, and Roman had nothing to offer Levi except friendship. Levi hadn’t wanted anything else from Roman. Even after he claimed his title, even after inmates and guards catered to Roman’s whims, even after private funds helped make Roman’s sentence bearable, Levi had never preyed on the opportunity.

He didn’t turn down a gift, only a fool was too proud to accept assistance, but Levi never pressed, never suggested, never alluded in any manner to sway Roman one way or another. Levi seemed content just hanging out together, being friends, and surviving their mundane days behind bars together. That was what drew Roman to Levi.

“I said that guy is going places.” Levi waggled his finger. “I better offer him a couple of blowies for the right protection.”

“You fucking idiot.” Roman burst into laughter, the shame of yesterday completely forgotten, washed away by Levi’s continuing jokes, mocking the role of champion, flipping off everyone in this place, and generally just knowing the right words to distract Roman.

Jokes and conversation Roman sank into with ease.

Levi would occasionally tease about oral with Roman, but neither pressed the matter. Roman could never tell if it was some type of gay humor he was missing, light flirting on Levi’s part, or just genuine prison rules surfacing despite Roman’s desire to make Marlow anything but a haven for depravity.

Levi’s open queerness had made him a quick target among inmates who knew he like sucking and taking dick, despite Levi’s adamant ‘top’ status and his bold commentary about picking the dicks he sucked, finding the men here no more worth his time than a hot woman. So, when Levi would drop a joke that Roman was worth his time, it made Roman’s head swell. Sometimes, it made both his heads grow. Not that he did anything about it or ever would.

Screwing because of captivity and lack of options made it seem like the feelings were never real. It was just his desperate horny mind giving way to a fantasy. Roman knew he only occasionally—more than once but totally less than a handful of times—jerked it to the idea of Levi sucking him off because of the jokes and the confinement. No matter the case, Roman never acted on the ideas, finding if he pursued that curiosity and regretted the feeling—realizing it really just was horny hormones seeking reprieve—he’d regret ruining the only real friendship he had.

“So, what are we doing tonight?” Levi retrieved his books, like he somehow planned on presenting them as a good distraction.

Roman didn’t want distractions. He wanted to sulk.

“Everyone decent?” A gruff voice asked as a hand firmly slammed on the open door.

Warden Sadler came inside, eyed Levi up and down, and then turned an annoyed gaze toward Roman. The warden had a fat stomach from years of sitting at a desk, filing paperwork instead of keeping up with his fitness. Based on his massive biceps and sturdy frame, Roman suspected he was quite the heavy hitter when he was a guard. Roman also speculated Warden Sadler’s ruthlessness for dirty business also extended to other facets of the man’s life, and knocking heads in probably helped put the corrupt old man on this path of life.

“Need you to clear out your stuff,” Warden Sadler said, not bothering to lead in with small talk or an explanation.

“The fuck?” Roman blurted. “No.”

“It’s not your room.”

“The hell it isn’t!”

“It’s the champion’s suite,” Warden Sadler said, a look of pure smug satisfaction across his face. “It’s for the champion.”

He pretended to search the room, eyeing every corner and then resting his eyes on Roman again.

“Do you see any champions in here? I don’t.”

Fuck. Roman’s own exploitations had finally come back to bite him in the ass. After all, this was technically his own fault. Prison came with the worst accommodations, designed to dehumanize and break someone just because they’d stumbled outside the lines of proper civil behaviors. Roman wanted more—Roman demanded more—as the champion. Warden Sadler shrugged him off until Roman did the impossible and maintained the title for three months, then four months, and onthe fifth month, he refused to perform because of a crick in his back.

Suddenly, the champion’s suite became available. Made from an old guard office, so slightly bigger than most cells and the sweet bit of privacy Roman had grown accustomed to. But the name itself meant it belonged to the champion, which was no longer Roman.

“Howdy.” Ezra waltzed into the room, an empty box in hand, and scanned the lovely accommodations. “Thought I’d help with the big move. Damn, this is a rocking room.”

“You expect me to fit all my stuff in here?” Roman scoffed, eyeing the warden.

“Almost everything here was procured by the champion, for the champion,” he answered matter-of-factly, and Roman suspected that meant his earnings as champion would quickly dwindle away too.

He glared but went to work packing what he could. Levi scrambled to grab what he could and carry it in his arms. Roman took in what he could of the cell, the home away from home, the little piece of heaven he’d carved out with blood and sweat, and then he left, hoping he could forget how nice these tiny luxuries were.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Ezra intercepted Levi as he went to follow Roman out of the champion’s suite. “Where you going?”

“Um, ugh, you know, like moving and such.” Levi gulped. “Per the rules and stuff.”

“Stick around, dude. I could definitely use a friendly roommate.” Ezra looked up at Levi, smiling. “You wanna be my friend, big boy?”

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