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Ash realized he’d gotten further under Nix’s skin than he thought. Had Nix been about to punch him or kiss him, Ash wasn’t sure. “Careful, Nix, people are beginning to look.”
The heat flared into Nix’s face.
Ash raised the other eyebrow. He hadn’t expected Nix to react like this. Why would a guy like Nix be worried about other people seeing? Seeing what, anyway, two cell mates bickering? That wasn’t an unusual sight in prison. Nix was a dry hay bale ready to ignite. And Ash wanted to be the one to drop the match.
“Oh, now I’ve got you in between a rock and a hard place, haven’t I, Nix? You lash out, you make an enemy out of me, and you can’t afford another cellmate enemy. Or do you let me get one up on you here and now, for people to see, and judge you?”
Nix gulped.
Ash knew what he was witnessing.
Nix didn’t like humiliation. He didn’t like being under the spotlight and called out for it. Nixy-boy didn’t like it.
Ash, being Ash, therefore immediately did it again.
“Nix, don’t worry about me, sheesh, such a clingy new cellmate,” Ash said loudly. A few of the guys in the line turned to look.
Nix blushed and almost choked on the spot.
“So much to learn. Don’t worry, Ash will look after you, Nixy.” Ash watched carefully.
And he felt the corner of his lip smirk upwards a fraction of an inch.
Oh no, Nix didn’t like humiliation.
He loved it. He fucking got off on it. That suited Ash perfectly. Because he liked to use his words. To seduce. Ash liked the drama of it all, the theatricality. Ash liked a game. And having this beautiful man with tattoos and a humiliation kink as a cellmate was going to be a riot to play with.
Well, this stay was going to be fun after all.
* * *
Nix bolted into the cell and immediately put Ash in a choke hold against the back wall.
“What the fuck were you playing at?” Nix hissed.
Ash could only gurgle, taken by surprise. Nix pushed him against the wall and breathed into his face. So close, Ash could smell him. Ash could study each line of his beautiful tattoos. The botanical paradise of his neck. The Moorish geometric pattern style in his hair line. Like a stained glass window in a church. Or the detailing on the ceiling of a mosque. Funny how the two were actually quite visually similar, Ash randomly thought. Both beautiful and awe inspiring. Compelling. Perfect for Nix.
“That was it Nix, I was just playing.”
“Breakfast time, in front of everyone, showing me up…”
Nix tensed his jaw. Ash could see he was angry. Angry with Ash, yes, but angry with himself more. Nix was a burning ball of rage. Unspent sexual rage. Unchecked desire and unexercised kinks he didn’t want. But fuck, if Ash knew anything, it was that you can’t straighten out a kink. Nix would rage against it, he was a fighter, tenacious and strong. But Nix would soon learn, Ash would be the one to teach him that lesson himself. The sooner Nix embraced his kink for humiliation, the better he would feel.
Ash could help with that. Ash wanted to help with that. Ash was going to help with that.
Ash attempted to clear his throat, with Nix’s hand gripped around his neck.
“You think people were looking?” Ash played dumb.
Nix frowned, slacking his grip a little. “Yes, people were looking-”
“You embarrassed?”
“Of what?”
“Yes, of what, Nix?” Ash parroted back.
Nix blinked, disorientated. “Fuck. I don’t want fuckers thinking we are friends, we aren’t-”
