Chapter 14

Leo looked Newt over. "You ready?"

Newt nodded, and his hair flapped forward and back. "Yep."

Leo spoke over his shoulder as he left the cell. "I still don't understand why you had to brush your teeth."

"It's basic manners," Newt said to the back of Leo's head. His hair was also overgrown and shaggy, but it didn't grow as fast as Newt's during the five months he'd been there. "Your barber on the outside will thank you for it."

Newt had only had his hair cut twice while he'd been at Brixton, both times by Leo with some blunt scissors in view of the prison officers. Newt had cut Leo's hair once, but it had been so awful Leo had banned him from doing it again.

"Welsh is ready for you," Shaw said, gesturing to the lone chair positioned in the middle of the wing and the silver trolley beside it.

Welsh stood behind the chair with his arms crossed, gazed fixed on Newt's hair.

"My oh my," he said. "That's one ginger sheep."

Newt hadn't had much interaction with Welsh, but he was close friends with Shaw and Bull despite breaking Bull's nose when he walked back onto E-wing. He was Welsh and had an interesting kitchen-floor haircut, which Newt had no clue how he managed to do. He was top of the food chain alongside Shaw in terms of privileges and was allowed to cut the hair of the inmates if they could meet his expensive price of four tubes of smarties and a lion bar.

"Take a seat," Welsh said, jerking his chin down at the one in front of him.

Newt sat up straight in the chair. Beside him on the trolley, an array of instruments glinted—razors, scissors, all sorts of sharps that were on a board with a shadow of each instrument painted beneath. It would be easy for the officers to see if one were to vanish, and the wing would immediately go into lockdown.

Newt jumped at Welsh's hand in his hair.

"There now, little sheep." He patted Newt on the head. "I'm thinking short on the sides with a fade, a long comb over to the left on top. What do you think?"

Newt had no idea what he thought of that but nodded regardless. Shaw trusted Welsh with his hair, and he looked stylish with it short and the notches slashing through his sideburns. Welsh had trimmed Scott's hair, and he'd been happy with the results. There was nothing to worry about, but still, Newt gnawed his bottom lip as Welsh tucked a towel around his neck and shoulders.

"Let's get shearing," Welsh said, flicking on the clippers.

Newt's red hair covered the floor. It scratched Newt's neck, and at one point, Welsh had to blow some out of Newt's ear.

"Looking good," Bull called out as he passed by.

Bull was a bullshitter, and him saying Newt's hair looked good wasn't reassuring in the slightest.

Newt glanced at Leo, twitching his eyebrows for his verdict.

"It looks great, Starman."

Welsh turned off the clippers. "Starman? You like stars?"

"Yes—"

"Why the hell didn't you say?" Welsh put the clippers on the tray and picked up what looked like a scalpel. He pushed Newt's head to one side. "Nice and still for me, Starman."

Newt didn't move. Leo was on his feet.

Welsh whistled a tune as he shaved the shape of a star in Newt's hair.

"There ya go," Welsh said. "Looks good if I do say so myself."

He ran his fingers through the long strands on top of Newt's head. "Bit of wax, do what I'm doing, and stroke your hair to one side."

Newt smiled and ran his fingertip over the shaved star in his hair. Welsh moved in front of him and held up a mirror so Newt could see.

"I love it," Newt said, turning his head from side to side.

Welsh bowed, then pointed at Leo. "Come on, Big Boy, there's a handsome guy under that mess, and I'm about to find him."

"He's handsome with or without messy hair," Newt said.

He'd only meant to think it, but his brain had jumped ahead, and the words were hanging in a sudden silence.

Leo smirked. "Thank you, Newt."

They swapped places.

"Would you like a star shaved in the side of your hair, perhaps a heart or a flower?" Welsh asked.

Leo narrowed his eyes. "No, thank you."

"Sure? I could write the word ‘grumpy' across the back of your head?"

"That's quite all right."

Welsh snorted. "Okay, I'm thinking longer on top, but not as long as the Starman, choppy fades either side"—he ran a hand over Leo's unruly hair—"and we'll style the front with a little wax to hide that receding hairline."

"I do not have a receding hairline," Leo grumbled.

"You do, but it's minor."

Welsh got to work. While Newt sat watching, several inmates he barely spoke to came over to admire his new hair. Scott sat down beside him, tentatively patting the comb over top. "It looks great."

The fades Welsh put in Leo's hair were uneven, ‘choppy'. It smartened him up, but in a wilder, masculine kind of way. Welsh put texture in the front of Leo's hair, giving it more volume and concealing any sign of a receding hairline. Newt had that feeling in his insides again, the tickly, fizzing feeling that made his heart quicken.

He lowered his voice so only Scott could hear.

"He's handsome, isn't he?"

Scott widened his eyes. "I mean, yeah, he's handsome, but…"

"But what?"

Scott saw the panic in Newt's eyes and gave him a soft smile. "The more time you spend with someone, the more you start to like them as a person, the more…attractive they become."

"I'm attracted to him?"

Scott peered into Newt's eyes, then down to his lips where quick breaths were leaving Newt's body.

"I'd say so."

"But I don't…" He trailed off, looking down at his fists on his thighs.

"Being attracted to someone doesn't necessarily mean you want to have sex with them, Newt. In your case, you don't, and that's fine."

"When I look at you…" Newt dragged his gaze back to Scott. "I can see that you're a good-looking man. You're like art in human form."

Scott snorted but waited for Newt to continue spewing his muddled thoughts out loud.

"But my heart doesn't beat like crazy when you smile at me, and I don't want your hand on my thigh or to press my body against yours and feel your heat. I don't desperately want to ask you for a hug. I don't crave affection from you. I don't ache at the thought of it or tie my tongue in knots, not knowing how or if I should ask for it."

"Beginning to feel a little personal."

"Sorry." Newt dropped his head into his hands. "I like you. A lot. But it's different. My stomach doesn't tingle and tickle when I'm around you. My skin doesn't randomly flush. My heart doesn't try to eject from my body when you breathe against my neck."

"I don't think I've ever breathed against your neck… Shall we test it?"

Scott's chair creaked as he leaned closer. He breathed out on Newt's neck. The flash of warmth only made Newt laugh, and he lowered his hands.

"You're attracted to him, not only because he's handsome in an I-fought-a-bear-with-my-hands kind of way, but him as a person, and the way he makes you feel."

"If this is attraction, it's torture."

Scott's smile faded. "Sometimes it can be. When the person you're attracted to doesn't feel the same, or when they're attracted to someone else, it hurts, and it can take a while for that hurt to go away."

"Did it?"

"Did what?"

"That hurt go away?"

Scott averted his gaze. "Yeah. It did. People are attracted to me because of lust. They see my face, and my body, and that's what they find attractive, and for a job, it works. I don't need them to like anything more than that, but that means very few people know the real me."

"Am I one of them that does?"

"Yes." Scott smiled, but it was sad.

"I like the real you."

"Thanks."

"But I'm not attracted to you."

Scott's smile brightened with a laugh. "We've established that."

"But I'm attracted to Leo?"

"I think so."

Newt turned to Scott. "Is he attracted to me?"

"I don't know."

"But from what you've seen?"

Scott sighed. "He's very protective, always on watch when it comes to you, including right now. He's watching us like a hawk, and he looks on edge, like he might just rush over even if it means Welsh shaves a bald stripe through his hair."

"But is it attraction?"

"I only see this Leo," Scott said. "The bodyguard, but Newt…" He hesitated. "Leo might not feel the same as you."

"You think this is one-sided?"

"I don't know, but it could be, and you need to prepare yourself for that."

"Are you attracted to everyone you…you know…"

Scott shook his head. "It's their lust that matters, their attraction to me based on my profile pictures. My preferences are irrelevant."

"Isn't that…hard?"

"No. All that matters is my client has a good time. Whether they're after fun, or relief, or just someone to give them some attention one night a month. I'm a service, not an equal party."

"You're all done," Welsh announced.

Leo bolted from his chair, straight over to Newt and Scott.

"A thank you would be nice!" Welsh shouted.

"Thanks," Leo said over his shoulder. He looked at Newt. "Everything okay? You were looking kinda upset?"

"I'm okay," Newt whispered.

"That's just the effect I have on people," Scott said as he got to his feet. "You know where I am if you need me." He winked before walking away.

* * *

Lockdown happened at seven thirty, and lights and TV went off at nine thirty.

For those two hours, Newt's insides fluttered, and his heart became an erratic escape artist.

He was attracted to Leo.

He'd never been attracted to anyone before, and it was terrifying.

"Newt," Leo grumbled, with his hand poised on the toilet roll. "You staring at me while I'm having a shit is really putting me off."

"Sorry." Newt buried his face in Leo's pillow.

At home, he'd once overheard Stone and Robin talking. Stone, overly joyous on beer, had told Robin he knew he was the one when he walked in on him using the toilet and found even his straining red face hot as hell. Newt, not knowing what to do with this information, had immediately told Mickey, who mercilessly teased their oldest brother.

Even with Leo using their shared facilities, the fizzling in his insides hadn't gone away.

Leo flushed the toilet, then washed his hands, frowning in the mirror in time to catch Newt's quick glimpse his way.

"What's wrong? Has someone threatened you again?"

"Threatened me?"

Leo dried his hands. "Yeah, you're acting like you did the first few days you were in here, skittish, nervous."

"It's nothing."

"Which means it's something."

"I'm just…" Newt picked at Leo's duvet. "Figuring some stuff out."

"With Scott?"

Newt nodded.

"You can talk to me, you know."

"I know."

Leo sighed and ducked down to sit on his bed. He shuffled until his back met the wall, then he lay on his side as Newt arranged himself into the little spoon position to watch TV. They didn't touch. The touching came when the lights went off, and Leo slung his heavy arm over Newt's side and breathed against his nape. Occasionally, if Newt had a bad dream, Leo would hold on to Newt's wrist until morning.

"It's a flash-forward episode," Leo said as the intro to The Street started to play. "We see the events of Halloween."

Newt yawned.

It turned out, a lot was happening on The Street during the night of Halloween. A murder. A funeral. A forbidden kiss, and the closing image of a gravestone with Cindy's name. Leo gaped. His eyes were wide as the end credits rolled.

"Not Cindy," he gasped.

Newt pressed his face into the pillow, but Leo still heard him laugh.

"Hey." Leo poked him. "It's not funny."

Leo kept poking, then he slipped his hand beneath Newt's T-shirt, bare palm on Newt's side as he continued to prod and poke. Newt wasn't laughing anymore. He stopped thrashing about, and Leo ceased tormenting him, but he didn't remove his hand from Newt's skin.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Newt turned onto his back, moving his body beneath Leo's hand. He ended up with Leo's hand spread over his stomach, and his heart took off at supersonic speeds.

"No. What do I feel like to you?"

"Huh?"

Newt caught Leo's hand before he could pull it away and kept it to his skin.

Leo's fingers twitched.

"You can't feel hot or cold," Newt whispered. "You feel warm all the time. It's nice."

"You feel…" Leo's hand roamed higher up Newt's chest, then returned to Newt's belly. Newt wanted to ask Leo to keep touching him, but he managed to keep his desires in his head. "Soft…fragile."

"Fragile?"

"I'm scarred and calloused. You're not, you're smooth. My hand must feel rough on your skin."

"I like it."

He really liked it.

Leo took his hand away. Newt hid his disappointment by turning onto his side to face the TV again. He bit his lip, hating the strange tension between them.

The TV switched off, and the lights went out.

"Maybe it was about time Cindy died," he said while yawning.

Leo laughed, and the tension evaporated. He wrapped his arm over Newt's side and hauled him back until they were flush. "Maybe you're right. She has died twice before."

"What?"

Leo hummed against Newt's neck. "In a house fire and a drowning incident."

His warmth wrapped around Newt, and Newt's eyelids felt heavier. "Poor Cindy."

"Yeah," Leo agreed with a yawn. "Poor Cindy."