~*~ The events of this story will incorporate external added elements from the author's imagination into the already rich and exhilarating canon narrative of the HBO original series, Oz. For the most part, the canon of the series will remain intact to preserve a sense of realism to the plot, while also being sensitive of the time flow of events occurring within Oz.
~*~ Although the characters to be featured are prominently factual in their given genre, they are the sole property of Tom Fontana and Barry Levinson, and are copyrighted to Rysher Entertainment and HBO. All original characters are of the author's creation and belong to him alone and, as with the rest of the story, may not be replicated or redistributed in any way without formal consent from said author.
~*~ Underage reading or any other illegalities is neither encouraged nor condoned in any way by the author. He also will not tolerate any form of plagiarism towards any of the words to come, as they are his and his alone. The principal objective is that of enjoyment and entertainment to you, the reader.
~*~ Address any type of question and/or feedback to firstname.lastname@example.org, making sure to add a relation to the story on the subject line of the e-mail to guarantee its reception.
Four pills taken earlier offered an intense release from the grip of the stifling reality his life had been. He sat in the storage room with his eyes wide open and his skin feeling prickles of numbness. O'Reily sat on the floor of the small room and tried to count all the vividly splashing colors in front of him. He was surprised he was normal enough to slip away from Em City and make it all the way here. The drug from the hospital ward was potent stuff---especially four of them.
Yesterday had been another crushing day for him. He was so furious with his father when he had seen him in that Solitary cell---the man had fucking ruined and sealed the fate of his own life. The Irishman had fought back the tears that night and had only thought about his brother sitting in the electric chair. Too much shit had passed for his life ever to be considered normal or sane again. O'Reily slightly looked up when the door opened and then closed back again.
The Latino flopped down next to him and said in a drawn out voice, "Hey."
"You on Destiny again?" O'Reily said, with his words equally slow.
"Are you? You sound like you're on something."
"Fuck Torquemada. I---I never want to try any of his shit."
"I'm coming down," he said as they both stared out in front of them. "Where'd you get your stuff?"
"From the hospital. Don't say anything," O'Reily warned as if he needed to.
"I haven't spilled any of your secrets yet. You think I'll start now? I know you'll kill me if I do," Alvarez said and smiled at the words.
"I wouldn't kill you, loco."
"Oh yeah? Why not?"
"Because?" Alvarez questioned.
"Because---you're loco," he laughed. "And, because---and because I like you, loco."
"Wow---how much of that stuff did you take? It's good, huh?"
"Prescriptions are always good. That's why so many people fill them, you know?"
"I---I heard about your dad and Neema."
"No," the Irishman snapped. "Don't talk about him. You know, not here."
He was so gone that he had no idea what he was saying, but he knew he did not want to talk about his father and death row right now. He did not even want to think of the possibility---the drugged stupor was the result of that. O'Reily had used so many pills to get away from Cyril's death, and now he was doing it again to avoid Seamus O'Reily sitting in Solitary with the strong possibility of being upgraded to death row.
Alvarez murmured something to him about his father. He did not listen to the instructions. O'Reily moved his body and positioned himself accordingly before he was sitting on Alvarez's hips as the other man's back jammed into the storage room wall for support. He easily straddled the Latino, and moved closer to form their lips together in a sweet kiss. Hands landed on either sides of his hips and tongues played at lips for affection.
"I've been fighting myself for a long time, Miguel," the Irishman said in a serious but riddled way as he kissed Alvarez's jaw and neck. "Almost since it started. So long, loco. I don't want to fight it anymore."
"What?" Alvarez asked and continued to hold on to the other man's hips.
"You know when I realized there was something more than just two guys getting their rocks off?"
"It's the drugs, you know?" he said, but his heart jumped because he wanted to further the conversation. "No, you don't---there's nothing more."
"I fought it---I fought it with everything I had," O'Reily said with an unreadable face. "When I wanted to suck your dick to prove my trust to you but you tried to talk me out of it. I knew---I knew."
"I didn't do a very good job of it. You still did it anyway."
"Because, I really wanted to show you that you could trust me. And, I really did want to do it, too. I was curious," his eyes widened as he said it. "You can't tell anyone I said that."
"Your secrets are safe with me, baby. All of them."
O'Reily kissed him passionately as the drugs had completely taken over by now. His body only wanted more of a high and being with the Latino this way was going to give it to him. Having their hot mouths touching one another while fingertips pressed into naked flesh to bring about ecstasy was the ultimate sensation. Alvarez raised both his hands in the air as his shirt came off and O'Reily had to break another kiss so that his own shirt could be removed as well.
Alvarez looked at him with his brown eyes and his index finger ran down and across the golden cross that hung around the other man's neck. It had been a symbol of his beliefs as a child---beliefs before he was old enough to realize how cold and cruel the world could truly be. His father violent abuse had forced him to grow up quickly in order to protect himself and Cyril from the onslaught.
O'Reily felt his knees digging into the ground on either side of Alvarez's body as he continued to sit on his lap and felt fingers toying with the piece of jewelry. Lips playfully touched his at first, but then changed into obsessive and soul-stealing kisses. He felt one hand slide down his back and enter his pants to grope as much of his ass as the other man could feel.
"God, Miguel. God---God," O'Reily moaned with their mouths still so close together. "Uh---touch me."
"Your skin's quivering."
"Yours too. Don't take your hands off me."
He was lowered to the floor and their lips crushed together as hands tugged at pants to get rid of them. Alvarez trailed kisses down his naked chest and across both his nipples. O'Reily groaned as the wet tongue licked and teased the orbs of his chest and hands pulled down his pants and boxers past his legs. It did not even matter that the floor was cold---the high made none of that matter at all.
The Latino lowered his mouth on his hardening dick and began sucking and blowing him while one hand ran up and down his stomach. Enhanced by drugs, every part of his skin tingled and responded to the warm touches and sucking he was experiencing. O'Reily mumbled under his breath and put one of hands behind Alvarez's head to encourage him to go deeper and give more.
It went more into his mouth---as much as he could take while he fingered with his own button and zipper to get his pants off and away from him. The restriction had become too much for his aching dick to handle and it needed to be released. His tongue ran down the underside of O'Reily's shaft as he kicked off his pants and got completely naked too. Alvarez touched the man's thighs as his mouth continued to work on his dick.
Destiny had lost its grip on him, but the intoxicating taste of the Irishman and the need of touch fueled his drive to go further and feel everything his body could possibly take. That was the problem with D-tabs. They always made him feel lonely. Torquemada's sexual advances and touches was not what he wanted. Alvarez smiled and moved back up the body under his for a kiss.
Their bodies shifted to be opposite one another's and both began orally stimulating the other. The drugs coursing through his veins enhanced O'Reily's bodily gratification. He sucked Alvarez's dickhead and tried to swallow more of it in his mouth. He had to go as far as he possibly could right now. The fog inside his brain freed up most of his inhibitions and fully allowed him to coddle in the pleasure. It was going to be all or nothing that was going to drive them both over the edge.
"Christ---that feels good," the Irishman said in his dazed mindset.
"If you don't stop, I'll cum."
"No---not yet," he warned and turned his body around for their lips to meet. "You want to go inside?"
"Huh---what? You mean---" Alvarez started to say and was shocked by the words.
"Yeah, loco. You touch my ass every time we do this," O'Reily's expression was serious. "I'll let you---"
"Not for that reason---no. No---not this way."
"It's the drugs, Ryan. You know, we wouldn't be having this conversation if you were clean."
"Come on---you can't deny me," he seductively said as he kissed him. "Everyone's wanted to get my ass ever since I got in here. Adebisi, Ross, Stanislofsky, Keller---so many more."
"This isn't you---you'd never talk like this," the Latino said in between their lips meeting. "This is all the drugs."
"So, you're saying `no'? You're saying `no' to fucking me---Ryan fucking O'Reily? Me?" O'Reily said and had a somewhat amused look on his face.
"Not when you're high. I want to---but not when you're like this."
"This'll change your mind."
Alvarez watched on with a confused look on his face as O'Reily searched through their discarded clothes for his pants. He dug into a front pocket and produced two of the pills he had stolen from the hospital. The Latino denied them at first, but allowed the man to put them in his mouth and he swallowed a short while after. O'Reily had that determination in his eyes and there was no denying him in what he wanted.
He had not expected this. Thoughts had crossed his mind before about them taking that next step, but the boundaries both men had set with one another so long ago was something never to be crossed. Alvarez placed him back on the floor and was on top of him as they kissed and touched exposed flesh. Fingers scraped into his back and the heat drawn from between them made sweat form. The acts themselves became more intimate.
He moved his hips upward and O'Reily bathed and coated his dick with spit and saliva to be used as lubricant between their bodies. Neither had condoms nor any other type of lubricant so this had to work. O'Reily was not in his right mind and the two pills were quickly altering Alvarez's brain. Mixing with the traces of Destiny in his system, the prescription pills were quickly overtaking him---making his desires more vivid and lifelike.
The Latino got into position between his legs and sucked on his own index finger before he traced it down to the spot. It was a spot that so many people wanted to get into ever since he had come to Oz. O'Reily closed his eyes and clammed up when he felt the wet digit softly stroke his virgin hole. A little part of him knew what was happening, and a slightly bigger part wanted to experience what it would feel like.
The spit-slicked finger very slowly tunneled its way inside his tight hole and his back arched up at the intrusion. Alvarez wormed all of his index finger in without too much of a fight. His fingers were long and slender so applying one was not too painful. Muscles clenched and clamped on him because they were not going to give up the Irishman's virginity so easily. It was going to be a fight for control and power to the very end.
After a few minutes and another finger inside him, O'Reily was panting and wanted more---he wanted it all. Muscles were not clenching as much and his entire body was calming and getting used to the two assaulting digits. The pills had taken him away and Alvarez was swathed in lust and eagerness to do what they both wanted.
"Alvarez, do it," he stared at him and whispered the order. "Do it."
The Latino crawled up to him and said, "No turning back now."
"Are the drugs I gave you not working?" O'Reily pouted.
"I'm feeling it."
He gripped the base of his wet dick and aligned himself properly before he started easily pushing against the tender flesh of O'Reily's ass. There was a loud pant and his body jumped up from the floor at the much larger intrusion than the previously two fingers. He settled back down onto the ground and positioned himself back to keep going. The pain was bad, but it mixed with the drugs inside him and he did not feel as much of it as he was supposed to. O'Reily closed his eyes and let the drugs do its work---for both of them.
"Get on your hands and knees," Alvarez said. "It might be easier."
The Irishman got into the new position and felt two hands clamp down on either side of his ass and then a finger move in to stroke his hole. He began pressing into him again and felt muscles give access to the head of his dick. It was so tight and warm and enveloping. Alvarez pushed in more of himself into O'Reily ass and his brain started to wonder how he went for so long without such intimate contact.
Grunts and curses escaped his lips as Alvarez pushed in and finally stopped because he was all the way in. A small kiss was placed on the back of O'Reily's neck and whispers touched his ear as they both waited for his body to get used to the Latino's large and probing dick. Again, the drugs continued to help, but O'Reily felt the sharp pains and a giant gash in his pride because he was no longer a virgin. He was bent over on his hands and knees with a dick shoved up his ass. Oz had finally gotten to him.
A slight nod let the Latino know that he was ready so he pulled out slowly and thrust back in. Alvarez felt lightheaded because of the drugs and now the amount of pleasure his body was receiving from being like this. The pace of his hips slowly picked itself up to plunge harder and faster into O'Reily. Friction and rhythm was created between their bodies to intensify satisfaction and enhance already overloaded sexual stimulation.
A prevailing sensation of dominance and power flowed through the Latino as he rocked his hips back and forth to grunts and groans of gratification. Ryan O'Reily was the straightest man in the entire prison. No one would have ever suspected either of them being in a position like this. So many inmates, past and present, wanted this piece of him. So many inmates wanted to conquer the king of mind-fucking this way. Alvarez felt the thrill and rush of it all and it was poisonous and intoxicating. O'Reily was bent over and taking his dick up his tight and completely untouched ass. The ass the Irishman had religiously fought to protect from any kind of sexual assault for so long.
Adebisi or Keller would have killed in this position---killed to be inside O'Reily and take his virgin ass for the top prize it was worth. For a man who constantly made people know he was not a fag, so much sexual tension, experimentation, and blackmail had gone down over the past years by other prisoners to make O'Reily renege on his words. Too many wanted a piece of him---a piece of his white ass. Alvarez comfortably grew into the dominant role of fucking him, but did not know if it was from his insides or an apparition put forth by the drugs in his system. They were supposed to be equals.
"Holy fuck!" the Irishman yelped. "Ouch---uhh! Oww---ahh! It hurts like a motherfucker!"
"Want me to stop?" Alvarez asked in between ragged breaths but only wanted to keep going.
"No. I feel, ah---it feels good when you hit that spot. Ahh---ahh. Let me flip over."
His back landed against the floor once again but immediately arched back up when he felt Alvarez pushing and entering him again. His legs hung on around the other man's lower waist while the friction and heat between their needy bodies began to be built back up again. O'Reily pulled him down and their lips locked as one hand snaked down his own body to touch his mostly neglected dick.
The emotional scarring was becoming too much for him to handle, and he coaxed Alvarez into going faster and harder, even though it felt like his insides were being ripped apart. He wanted to feel something other than numbness since Cyril's execution. If it was a little pleasure mixed within a whirlwind of pain, then so be it. Both were worth feeling over constant numbness and haunted eyes. O'Reily wanted to know if his body was still alive and capable of feeling any sensation at all. He worked his ass further down into Alvarez's crotch and felt a jolt of electricity as that spot inside him was stabbed.
"Goddammit, loco! Do that again," he breathed out and commanded harshly. "Uhh---yeah. Do it again."
"You're so fucking tight, baby," Alvarez's sultry voice touched his skin. "I'm going to cum soon."
"Yeah---fuck! Faster. Me too."
O'Reily breaths were shallow and quick as he pleasured himself while Alvarez thrust into him deeper and more forceful. His ass hurt and the lower inside part of his hips felt like it was on fire because of the assault by the Latino's pulsating dick. He jacked himself off and grunted as sweet release took over his body and cum sprayed everywhere on his hands and stomach.
It was one of the most concentrated and extreme orgasms that had ever passed through his body and he was shuddering under the weight of Alvarez's body. His mind drew blanks as he continued to pump his dick and feel the other man deeply plunging in and out of his no longer virgin ass. O'Reily gasped for air and bonded their lips together for the natural high to never end.
He felt himself close because the Irishman's insides clamped down on his dick hard after he came and that exhilarating tightness, hotness, and moistness gripped his dick like a vice full of bliss. Alvarez grunted on their lips as he pulled out and stroked himself only a few times before he came. He was dizzy and wanted to fall back onto his body because the combination of drugs and sex was too much stimulation for him to contain. His fist kept pumping his dick until his body crashed on top of O'Reily's and his eyes closed to revel in it all.
What he thought was never going to happen had happened. O'Reily too closed his eyes---their breathing almost became synchronized with one another's and it felt like an out of body experience. He had spent so many years protecting his ass from having anything come anywhere near it. That was gone now. He had gone as far as two men could go together. The thoughts were quickly sobering him up and he felt his stomach churn at what he had just put his body through.
His ass hurt and was sore as both highs were wearing off to bring him back to reality. Alvarez was still resting on top of him, with their sweaty and sticky skin melding together. He may have been having conflicting emotions about what just happened, but the Latino felt so good on top of him. He smelled so good of pure masculine musk and his raw skin felt so sweet against his. O'Reily had to process and deal with what was going through his head. He had just been fucked, but still believed more than ever that he was not a fag.
"Alvarez---Alvarez, get up." O'Reily said to the still resting man. "Ah---shit!"
"What---I was dreaming that I was lying on a beach somewhere far away," he looked up and said. "What's wrong?"
"Dammit! This hurts. We have to go."
"Oh, yeah. Give me a minute. I got to get all my head back," Alvarez said as he shook his head to get rid of all the dizziness.
O'Reily had to be strong and suck up the pain because no one was ever going to know what had just happened to him. He easily slipped away from Alvarez's body and went to clean up before he started collecting his clothes from the floor to put on. His ass was sore and sensitive to the touch of his pants sliding over them. O'Reily bit down on his jaw and muted his voice as the clothing slipped over his body as if it were some sort of protection. It was far too late for that now.
There was awkwardness that hung in the air now and Alvarez did not know what to say or do to break it. Most of the drugs had been processed through his system and his thoughts were returning to him---mostly in pieces and broken strands. He started to get dressed and knew O'Reily was in pain because of the way he was standing. That weakness, of course, was not going to be made known outside of the room. As soon as he left, that mask was going to go back up and everything was going to be as it was. Except that everything had changed between them.
The Latino walked over and touched his forearm as he asked, "Hey, you okay?"
"Don't touch me," he said and pulled away. "No."
"What happened---I don't know what to say."
"That's good---because you don't have to say anything," O'Reily responded back and got ready to leave.
"You regret it?"
"From the second it started."
The words stung but they had to be expected. Something he had sworn was never going to happen had. Alvarez watched him but there was no eye contact as he tried his best to put up his mask and ignore the pain his lower body was in. Of course, he was going to regret it. Both had been out of their minds on drugs and O'Reily was under tremendous pressure and stress with his father's murder of Neema and still coping with the execution of his brother. There seemed to be nowhere else to turn to make his body feel again.
The weight of the room felt like it was going to crush him. He had to get out of there. Once he was confident enough to pass as himself on the outside, O'Reily slipped away without saying another word to the Latino. His walk mainly returned to the overly confident strut most knew him for as he made his way back to Em City. The Irishman was in no mood to deal with anyone or anything. He just wanted to be alone with himself to make sense of what his life had become.
He slowly but confidently walked to his pod and heard the door suction shut behind him to know that he was safe for the moment. His ass was so tender and raw that, as he climbed up to his bed, it hurt and felt uncomfortable. His drug-addled mind had made a mistake. Did I beg? The thought disgusted him and he jumped off the bed as fast as he could when he felt his mouth becoming full. O'Reily dropped to the floor near the toilet and threw up what felt like all his guts. It just kept coming and he just felt sicker and sicker. His lower abdomen was on fire because of the sudden and quick movements.
He would kill himself if he had begged Alvarez to fuck him---to split him open like some bitch. O'Reily got up from the floor and went to the sink to rinse out his mouth. It was all too much for him, and he could not begin to cope with any of it---Cyril, his father, and now, getting fucked. Oh, Christ! The Irishman wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he heard the familiar sound of air being savagely stolen from his pod. Now was not the time for this motherfucker to be in the same proximity as him.
"I see you've returned from your disappearance," Torquemada greeted in that perverse voice of his. "I knocked. You didn't seem to hear."
"Be still my little heart. All this enmity you have towards me. What have I done, darling?"
"Listen, you overacting, cocksucking freak," O'Reily said with most of his anger still in check. "I got nothing to say to you and, it'd be in your best interest if you didn't have anything to say to me."
"Was there a threat somewhere in there? Prison just isn't what it used to be."
"Good---now get out."
The queen remained standing there and said, "Have you giving any more thought to my business suggestion?"
"Get the fuck out of my pod!" he yelled.
"Hmm---you were more fun when you were disappeared. Now, if only Miguel would return from his---disappearance," Torquemada said and their eyes connected.
The flamboyant queen said it as if he knew something but there was no way Alvarez would betray the partnership like that. Torquemada smiled and left the pod a moment later without another word or gesture. O'Reily felt his wrath becoming uncontrolled at the comment and the insinuation behind it. No one could ever know what was going on between them. The reputation he had fought, manipulated, and killed for all this time would crumble if they were ever linked together like that. His image of himself had already taken a big slash because of what had just happened.
However he tried, he could not stay away---his body could not stop feeling for the Latino. With his mind so muddled with prescription drugs, of course the chance was greater of him giving in to a more sexually charged experience. Sex had been restricted in his life for so long that it was only a matter of time before their fooling around went too far. Despite being a woman, the ugly hack Howell had not held his interest for long. And he had to get rid of her once she had started talking about wanting to fuck Cyril.
The lumpy and hard mattress under him did nothing to soothe his pain, and his head was starting to hurt as well. His insides were still burning, but the hazy fog from the pills had cleared from his head as he tried to get some sleep. O'Reily felt his stomach in a giant knot and knew he would want to throw up again if he thought about it anymore. There was no going back. He just really wanted the pain to go away or sleep to take him soon. It was all so demanding and exhausting on his body.
The opening door swiped at his eardrums and a familiar voice said, "O'Reily, get up. You're late for your work detail."
"Murphy," the Irishman turned from facing the wall and said. "Murphy, I---I don't feel so hot."
"Well then, let's go. Dr. Nathan works there---remember? I'm sure seeing her will put the spring back in your step. It always has every time you've been sick before," the hack said and used the word sick far too lightly.
"No---I mean it. I don't think I can work today."
"You're serious? You want me to take you to the hospital to get checked out?"
"No. I need rest," the Irishman said and it was mostly true.
"O'Reily, if you're faking out on me, I'll make you wish you were sick," Murphy said with a straight face.
"You're too kind."
"Is that the excuse I should give to Dr. Nathan on your behalf?"
"I don't care, man," he said and turned back around to try to get some rest.
He wanted, more than anything, to let his body recover for the ordeal he had put it through with Alvarez. Now it was entirely uncomfortable and hurting, but it had not always felt like that. O'Reily was not sure if the drugs had made it feel good or if it was Alvarez's dick burrowing deep inside him. Their bodies had been connected and genuine heat had been generated between the two. Lips and fingers had known their rightful times and places while O'Reily had seen so many colorful stars in front of his eyes. Alvarez had made him see stars---had made him feel like he could reach out and touch them.
Another day had settled itself upon Oz and he was sitting in the visitor's room awaiting his mother. His lower body felt better, but there was still sharp pain when he walked too fast or sat down too quickly. O'Reily ignored it and got back to his old self, though---nothing was going to change the position he had cemented for himself inside this God forsaken place. A hack opened the door and his mother came in.
"Ryan," she said and he slowly got up to hug and kiss her.
"Hey, ma. Come on---sit," O'Reily said and they both did.
"How are you?"
"I---I haven't seen you much since the play."
"Querns doesn't want programs like that in Oz anymore," Fitzgerald sadly said. "He thinks it's some kind of reward for the inmates not to be confined to their cells as much as possible."
"The stupid prick."
"He's making a mistake. If there's one thing I learned from working here, it's that the prisoners need some kind of outlet to release themselves in---something for them to expend their energy and dedicate themselves to. Maybe he'll come to realize this in time."
"Querns is a moron who has no idea how to run Oz," he said with no emotion to the words.
"At least when I was working off my community service, I got to spend time with you, and---" she said but stopped right away.
"I miss him, ma. I fucking miss him so much."
"I know, Ryan. When---when I was watching him in the chair, my mind just went blank. I felt like I couldn't think---or breathe," his mother held his hand and said. "A piece of me died the day he did. I felt just like a mother who had lost her child."
"You were his mother," O'Reily said in a strong tone. "There was never any fucking doubt about that."
"Now that the warden has banned all these programs, I can't spend any time with you---not like we used to."
"Did you finish all your hours?"
"Yeah---but I wanted to keep going. I wanted to do so much more," she continued to say in a sad tone. "And, to keep spending time with you."
Again, Oz cost him something else that he did not want or was willing to give up. O'Reily had gotten so accustomed to having his mother there every day that he could not imagine her not being there anymore. Querns was a fucking idiot and the prisoners were going to revolt when they found out that the arts were being permanently pulled. It was a way for the inmates to break up the monotony of the days and being confined.
The Irishman realized that his mother did not know what had happened. He did not know how she was going to react to it and he shifted uncomfortably in the chair---it was all Alvarez's fault. Torquemada's words had not sat easy with him. The allusion had been purposely placed between the queen's words to imply that he knew something. O'Reily was sure the man knew nothing, but he had to nip the problem in the bud before it formulated into anything. The fag was irritatingly crossing his path far too many times now.
"Ryan, what's the matter? Why do you look so upset?" Fitzgerald asked and knocked him out of his head.
"Ma---dad killed Jahfree Neema."
"What?" her face lit up with shock. "No. Jahfree's---dead?"
"Hey, I'm sorry," O'Reily said and held her hand tighter. "I know he meant something to you."
"Oh my God. He's dead---he's really dead?" she said as tears formed in the back of her eyes.
"Querns says the state is going for the death penalty."
"Good! He fucking deserves everything he's got coming to him for doing this."
"Ma---come on," the Irishman warned her as gently as he could. "Not like this."
"I could just kill that old bastard," Fitzgerald said through tears and silent sobs.
"Don't say that. I couldn't deal with you in prison, too."
"Sorry. Sorry. I know it's hard---because of what happened to Cyril."
"Dad and I are trying to fix our relationship. It can't happen if he's dead."
"Did your father say why---why he did it?" she wiped a tear from her face and said.
"I don't know. He wasn't exactly Neema's greatest supporter, you know?"
"After all these years---to end up like this. Oh, Jahfree."
"It's the same fucking cycle over and over again," O'Reily crossly said. "Nothing ever fucking changes inside these goddamn walls."
"What are you going to do, Ryan?"
"I have to help him. I can't---I can't sit by and watch him end up like Cyril."
He could tell that she was trying hard to fight away the tears. Despite his approval or not, his mother had cared for Neema---and, in a way, so did he. The man had supported him during the last days of Cyril's life and had rallied everyone to support his brother during his time of need. Unlike when he had first come to Oz, O'Reily had nothing against Neema and did not want to see him end up the way he did.
There had to be a way of convincing Querns to have his mother continue with the arts program. It was yet another thing he had to add to the growing list of things he had to accomplish to remain on top of his game. O'Reily kissed her goodbye when the hack informed them that time was up and slowly made his way back to Em City. So many things had to be done, and he needed Alvarez off Destiny to help him carry out plans and make things happen.
As he walked through his pod, that dead eye was on him. Maybe it was an intimidation tactic, or something designed to make him scared, but O'Reily was neither and did not bother making eye contact with the flamboyant man. He shut himself away in his pod to think about his next move---it had to be getting Alvarez away from that faggot queen. The Latino had to be sobered up and out of Torquemada's clutches for the partnership to have any chance of survival.
Something else was propelling him forward to get rid of Torquemada too. It had been hidden away in the back of his mind because that was where he had put it so that he did not have to think about it. The man always attempted to fawn and hang all over Alvarez while they were in public. The Latino had never allowed anything serious, but there had been some light touching and caressing. O'Reily was jealous---his relationship with Alvarez had never seen the outside of a storage room closet. Aside from that, he did not want that pathetic queen touching what was supposed to be his.