Ruaan didn’t know when his face flushed red.

He didn’t know if it was because of Seo or because he was busy imagining himself with Harolin.

He rubbed his chin slowly. His blow job and hand job were good. He knew that. But everything else? He had zero experience and the books he’d just spent three hours reading were making it very clear that zero experience was a problem he needed to solve.

He turned and looked at Seo, who was still standing in front of him with a sweet, innocent look on his face like he hadn’t just offered himself as a practice partner.

"Fine," Ruaan said. "You’ll teach me." Seo’s grin spread wide and immediate. "But..."

The grin vanished.

Ruaan leaned forward slightly and lowered his voice. "It’s just practice. No one is putting anything in."

Seo raised both hands in mock surrender. "Sure. We’ll do whatever you want."

He collected the remaining volumes from Ruaan and headed to the nearest table, dropping into a chair and opening his own comic like the conversation had been completely normal.

Ruaan sat across from him.

He opened volume one.

.

It was a very long afternoon.

Ruaan kept his face straight through all six volumes, which was a personal achievement he intended to take pride in. His legs, however, had been squeezed together under the table since volume two and showed no signs of relaxing.

He flipped to the next page.

"What?" he said, without looking up.

Seo had been staring at him.

’Why is he staring like that? He didn’t catch me trying to touch myself under the table, right?’

"That’s volume three already," Seo said, smiling. "You’re a pretty fast reader."

Ruaan silently let out a breath and ran his fingers through his hair. "Sure I am."

"What about Cullen? Won’t he be annoyed if he can’t find you?"

Ruaan thought about the very specific crisis currently happening in Cullen’s stomach and his bathroom and pressed his lips together hard. He waved his hand.

"Don’t worry. I’ll be free from Cullen till the next game."

Seo tilted his head, clearly confused, but didn’t push it.

They sat quietly for a moment. Ruaan reached for volume four. Seo was reading his own thing. The library was peaceful in the way that only places full of books could be.

"So," Seo said carefully. "How do we practice? We don’t live in the same cell and... oh wait! We could practice in the bathroom."

"Bathroom? I don’t like that. I hate seeing other people." Ruaan said it, reaching for the next page.

Seo blinked. Then nodded like this was a perfectly reasonable sentence.

"You do have to be scared. The best time is 1am. Everyone would be asleep by then so no one would bother you."

Ruaan looked up. "I didn’t know that."

"Now you do." Seo smiled. "Tonight then?"

"Tonight," Ruaan agreed.

He went back to his book.

’I’m practising with Seo tonight,’ he thought, turning the page. ’Which means I’ll avoid Lily for a few days. Since he’s not interested in me anyway, I doubt he’ll notice.’

He didn’t examine why that thought made something in his chest do a small, annoying thing.

He giggled quietly at a panel and immediately stopped and looked around.

Nobody saw that.

He kept reading.

.

The library closed in the evening.

Ruaan had finished all six volumes which felt like an accomplishment and also a problem. He would have taken some back to the cell but he didn’t need Yoon asking questions about his reading habits.

He and Seo walked out together.

"...some men even injured themselves during the process..."

Ruaan snapped back to attention. "Injured?"

Seo paused. Looked at him. "Have you been listening to anything I’ve said?"

"I caught the word injured. What are we talking about?"

Seo sighed. "Tomorrow is skill day."

"What’s skill day?"

"I knew it." Seo shook his head fondly. "Okay. Listen. Each day has something assigned to it. Monday is skill day. Tuesday is rest... well, rest for most people, except the bottom ten who can still get hunted if they’re unlucky. Wednesday is training for Thursday. Thursday is game day. Friday is a full rest day, nobody touches anyone. Saturday and Sunday are..." he shrugged "...do whatever you want."

"And skill day?"

"There are workshops. Metal work, wood work, electrical, tailoring, automobile." He pushed his glasses up. "Computer was removed because people kept watching porn."

Ruaan nodded slowly. "Makes sense."

"I’m in electrical. I made a small bulb for my bed so I can read at night." He said it with genuine pride.

"Do I just walk into a workshop and say hi?"

"You’d have to register first. Find an officer tomorrow morning."

They reached the fork in the corridor where their cell blocks split.

"See you tonight then," Ruaan said.

Seo pointed at him. "Don’t be late." He waved and headed off, already opening his comic before he’d turned the corner.

.

.

Cell 109 was warm with noise when Ruaan pushed the door open.

Yoon was on his feet before Ruaan had fully stepped inside. "Good evening! Did you hear?"

Ruaan walked past him and sat on his bed. "Hear about what?"

"Cullen Ray." Yoon’s voice dropped into the specific register of someone delivering excellent gossip. "He’s been running to the toilet since this morning. Like, ’twenty times’ already." He started laughing. Petre joined from his corner. "His hole must be on fire by now—"

"Keep your voice down." Luca’s voice came from his bed, flat and unbothered. "The walls have ears. You want Cullen’s men to hear you mocking him? You remember what the bottom ten felt like two weeks ago?"

Yoon cleared his throat immediately.

Petre walked back to his bed with the energy of someone who had never been laughing at all.

The cell settled.

Yoon started sorting his things for the shower, folding his new dark blue towel with care. Petre was doing the same. The familiar routine of people who had been sharing a small space long enough to move around each other without thinking.

"Did you hear about skill day?" Yoon asked, not looking up.

"Yeah, I already know," Ruaan said.

"Who told—"

He didn’t finish the question.

Ruaan had reached for his clean uniform on the shelf and was pulling his grey shirt up over his head, the fabric catching slightly before coming free. Just a normal, automatic motion.

Yoon turned to ask who’d told him about skill day.

And stopped.

Ruaan’s back was to him, reaching for the shelf. The tattoo curved along his side in dark ink. His waist was lean, his shoulders narrow, and the line of his spine went straight and clean down to where his uniform sat low on his hips. His skin was pale and his nipples were pink and—

Yoon looked away completely. He turned his head toward the wall and grabbed the first thing near him, which happened to be his folded shirt, and pressed it against his bulge and sat very still.

’What,’ he thought, with genuine alarm.

’What is happening?’

’I have lived with men for over a year. I have showered next to men. I have seen more of men than I ever wanted to see. Not once. NOT ONCE.’

’Why now?’

’Why is it—’

He stared at the wall.

’Is it because of Ruaan?’