|dusty (dustandroses) wrote in dustyrydersrecs,|
@ 2005-10-27 03:33:00
|Current music:||Bettie Bettie - BR5-49|
|Entry tags:||angst, author: rustler, fandom: oz, keller, nc17, noncon, schillinger, slash, this is the best shit|
Genre: Slash, Angst
Pairing: Vern Schillinger/Chris Keller
Warnings: violence, non-con, sex with a minor
Spoilers: Pre-Oz, but explains some situations from Season Two
Notes: There's always talk about how Keller and Vern ended up together in Lardner Prison, back when Keller was just a boy of 17. Vern has just been riding his way through prison, but he gets a wake-up call, and realizes he can control his own fate, if he doesn't let it slip through his hands. Probably one of my favorite Oz fic of all time.
"What's happening?" Vern asked between panting breaths as he followed Ahrens at a brisk trot. Inmates beginning to spill out of their cells milled aimlessly into Vern's path, cutting off his ability to hear Ahrens' reply. He did manage to make out a spat reference to 'Tutweiler', though, and really, that was enough.
As they neared the back of the unit, the noise suddenly increased, shouted curses: fuck off motherfucker! and a clangy metallic crash.
Holy shit, what the hell was going on in there?
Shouts and jeers rang off the walls:
"Yo, Tutty! Fuck that sweet white ass!"
"Get that boy, man!"
The word burned in Vern's ears, and something automatic, primal seemed to kick into gear. New busload of inmates, and Tutweiler was trying to take another white prag. He'd had a string of 'em in F-block and now he was trying to do it here? Right under the nose of the Brotherhood? Not in Vern's goddamned unit. Not while he was still alive to do something about it.
Blood pumping, roaring in his head, Vern bulled his
way through the startled crowd beginning to gather around Tutweiler's
cell. Before any of Tutweiler's buddies could react, Vern had already
burst through the doorway, Ahrens following in his wake.
"Get your fucking hands off that boy!"