MOAR SNIPPETS

Rahm jerks his head towards one of the older guys in the yard, lounging on the bleachers, head tipped up towards the sun. "Joey B. Joey the Shark, or whatever the fuck. Old school, kiddo. You do not fuck with Joe. He's been here long enough the warden sucks his dick when she asks him nice. Good people. I'll introduce you later."

Barack just nods, follows dumbly behind. He's shaking slightly, nerves all jumbled and haywire and Jesus Christ what he wouldn't do for a fix right now.

A hand lands on his arm, digs fingers into spare muscle. "Calm down, Barry. Jesus Christ, you'd think somebody threw you at one of the fences."

Another head jerk, in the direction of a smoothly handsome man surrounded by another group of inmates, hands moving quick, briefly flashing a finger at Rahm. "Yeah, fuck you too, cocksucker!" Rahm yells back, but this time it's affectionate. "My brother, Ari. We'll get to him soon enough."

Barack thinks to question why they're serving time together, but he keeps his mouth shut. He's a smart kid, like they always said. Rahm makes a small sound of approval at his silence.

"Good, good. You'll go far." Then the hand turns from a guiding help to a vise. "Shoot up again and I'll kill you. I'll fuck you. I mean it."

Barack nods, quick, jerky, eyes wide. "I- Yes."

That hand becomes a gentle caress, now. "Good boy. Come on. Let's go meet the Shark."