Mateo could think of only one person who liked to sing in prison. For over three days, Rick had a mood that almost made Mateo puke. It had started with humming, but by now, Mateo had heard the whole discography of the Backstreet Boys. Or whatever douchebags sung these crap songs. It made him moody, although that could also be caused by the fact that it was visiting day tomorrow. This time he had neither gotten a request and by now it really started to bother him. It wasn't like his brother to stay away for so long. Perhaps he should arrange a call, although he wasn't sure how he would react if his call was ignored or if the device was no longer in use. He hated having no control over the situation; Juan and he had always been close and now they'd lost contact, he experienced the feeling of panic for almost the first time in his life. He couldn't do shit and the powerlessness was worse than being locked up here. Normally, he would tell himself that his brother wouldn't get himself in trouble that easily; Mateo had always been the difficult one. However, since Mateo had stabbed someone things were different. Too many times, the thought that the guy would take revenge by going after his little brother had haunted him. Mateo had dismissed his fears every time; it had been a very personal action, something his brother had nothing to do with. His victim wanted to bury the truth that Mateo had discovered and confronting Juan with it would only make things worse for him — at least, that was what Mateo had been telling himself. It had given him peace of mind, especially now a year had passed and nobody had bothered his little brother. Now, however, things were different and it was eating him up. 

He glanced at Rick, who sat behind the desk and was softly singing, his pen scratching across the paper incessantly. As if he felt that Mateo was watching him, he looked over his shoulder and smiled. "Would you want me to write you letters too when you're free?"

"No," he answered coldly. "Once I'm finally away from here, I never wanna think back to this shithole and my retarded cellmate."

Rick's shoulders sagged. "Retarded? Aaron thinks I'm sweet."

"Good for him."

"I think you secretly find me sweet too." His brown eyes lit up as if that thought crossed his mind for the first time. "If not, you wouldn't have protected me, right? And you got me chocolates, and that night that you bribed a guard to —"

"Don't make me regret those things," he cut him off. 

Rick's smile was back. It looked a bit teasing this time, giving Mateo a strange feeling in his stomach. "I bet you're going to miss me when you're gone." The corners of his mouth dropped. "Either way, I know I'm going to miss you."

Mateo was sick of this conversation and he wished that Rick would just shut up. Telling him to do so however would only be effective for two minutes. He laid down on his bunk and rolled on his side, his face towards the wall. "I'm goin' to sleep, so shut the hell up."

It would take at least 30 more minutes before the lights would go out, but even in the dark, he suspected Rick to continue to write the sappy love letters he planned to give Aaron tomorrow. Mateo hoped the boy would write him back after his release; if not, he would have a crying cellmate for the remaining months. That sounded even worse than a disgustingly happy one.

. . .

They'd arrived at the last cell where they had to change the bedding. Aaron never expected that there would be one aspect he would miss about his captivity, but there was. He would love to do all the cells once again. Rick was joking the whole time, ambushing him with sudden hugs and teasing kisses and his laughter warmed him to the core. Even though Rick was always sweet and cheerful, he was extra energetic today and it was all because of Aaron's release tomorrow. Then, he would finally be redeemed from Moloch. 

"Look, these are all for you!" Rick handed him a pile of paper. "I made these the past days. I wrote stories and poems and just other things I wanted to say to you. There's a date on them so that you have a little present a few times a week and won't forget about me."

Aaron placed the papers on the bed next to him, wrapped his arms around Rick, and rested his forehead against that of his boyfriend, looking deep into his eyes. "I could never forget you. I never met someone like you."

Butterflies raced through his stomach at the sight of Rick's flushing cheeks. Softly, he brushed his lips with his own, his knees feeling weak. His handed glided up into Rick's curls. He would miss the boy terribly and deep inside he was terrified for what Moloch would do to him. Aaron would pray endlessly for him, hoping the man would leave his boyfriend alone and that Mateo would be able to protect him. 

The caress of Rick's tongue and the fingers brushing his neck made the fear fade, keeping him in the here and now. 

After a long time, they broke the kiss and pulled each other in an intimate embrace. "I will write you each week," Aaron promised, laying a kiss on his temple. "And I will visit you whenever I can." He created a little more distance between them so he could look at the other. "And I will organize a fun date when you're free."

Rick smiled from ear to ear and kept pressing small kisses to his lips. "I have a suggestion for that date. Kissing and cuddling all day long."

Aaron chuckled softly. "I will make enough time for that."

"There's never enough time for that."

Aaron pulled his hands away from Rick's back and intertwined their fingers. A warm feeling blossomed in his chest while looking into Rick's soft brown eyes. He was so in love with the boy and he knew his feelings would only grow stronger once there was no threat anymore. He couldn't wait until they could see each other whenever they wanted, until they could walk hand in hand and slow dance and watch the sunset at the beach, cuddling... He memorized these beautiful thoughts, determined to flee there tonight when Moloch would get his claws in him for the very last time. 

"I think they'll release me tomorrow morning after breakfast. We could meet in the restroom before the end of it? To say our goodbyes?"

Rick nodded excitedly, pressing another kiss to his lips. "Then I'll have one last kiss to look forward to."

"Exactly." Aaron caressed his cheek. As do I. 

. . .

Aaron was tempted to have his last dinner with Rick, Tommy and Ace, but he didn't do it. He didn't want to displease Moloch, who wouldn't be in the best mood now he was going to lose his plaything. Aaron knew his last night would be horrible, but he didn't want to challenge the man, especially not when he would take his frustration out on Rick in the future. 

And so, he ate his last supper in silence, together with the man who he hated with every bone in his body.  He let the night come over him, floating in a sea of pain but looking forward to dawn when he would find a new land where he could finally escape from the monster. 

Soon, all this will be over, he told himself with every thrust that seemed to rip him open. Then, this demon will become nothing but a dark memory. 

Eventually, Moloch rolled on his back, letting out a satisfied groan. 

Aaron lowered on his side and stared at the wall, only now aware of the tears itching down his cheeks. Anxiously he waited until the breathing of his tormentor slowed down; a sign that sleep came over him. 

It did not happen. Instead, he felt lips touching his shoulder. 

Aaron froze, his stomach writhing as a large hand cupped his hip. Hot breathing scorched his ear. "You really think I'd let a pretty boy like you go?" The hand glided to his front, kneading the already bruised body part that refused to do what Moloch wanted for a long time. 

Aaron was silent. 

Moloch wasn't satisfied with his silence; suddenly he grabbed Aaron's throat, lifting him up and slamming him against the wall. His head crashed into the stone. Aaron welcomed the pain flashing through his skull, hoping he would lose consciousness. Through a blur of tears, he watched the man crawl closer. Cold fingers grabbed his hand, folding his fingers around something. Aaron's eyes widened when something sharp cut his fingers. Was it a piece of glass? Suddenly his heart froze, the golden future with Rick melting before his eyes. Was Moloch going to kill him? Now — now his freedom was only a few hours away? 

"You're mine, little boy. You will always be mine."

Moloch's fingers clutched around his, the glass cutting deeper in his flesh. Then, Moloch yanked his hand forward, slamming the shard into his stomach. Aaron screamed in pain when the glass cut deep into his fingers. Moloch didn't let go of his hand; he lashed out again, burying the shank deeper in his own flesh. 

The man stumbled backward, fell out of bed. In shock, Aaron stared into the dark while warm blood dripped down his hand. 

Moloch screamed for help. 

It was surreal — Moloch screaming for help; because he had stabbed himself. 

Footsteps of guards hurried towards them; a few moments later, beams of light shone into their cell. In their ominous light, Aaron caught a glimpse of Moloch's insane grin. 

"My cellmate stabbed me with a piece of glass," Moloch told the guards, groaning in pain. 

Immediately, the guards called for back-up. The door was opened and Moloch was taken to the infirmary. Still stunned, Aaron watched him leave until two men grabbed his arms and pulled him off the bunk. 

"That means solitary for you, kid," one of them growled. 

"I — I didn't do anything," Aaron mumbled. "I'm almost free. Tomorrow... Tomorrow they will set me free."

"Dream on, boy. After a violent act like this, you're not going anywhere."

Moloch's words echoed through his head, slamming themselves in his brain with the sharpness pieces of broken glass. 

"You're mine, little boy. You will always be mine."