Razor, Twitch and Loom

The tier was half-dead, the kind of quiet that only settled in when guards got lazy and inmates got ideas. Razorback was already irritated, shoulders rolled forward, fingers flexing like he was working something out of his hands. The stupid pamphlet-book thing sat folded in his grip, paper creased and damp with sweat. Good behavior. Manners. He snorted at the thought.

Twitch’s laugh cut through the air, sharp and sudden.

“Oh oh shit,” he giggled, rocking on the balls of his feet, eyes glittering. “You’re not gonna believe what I saw earlier, boss. Swear on my teeth.” He leaned in, voice dropping to feel intimate. “Our little new guy? Yeah. Chattin’. Real cozy. With that hyena from C.”

Razor’s head turned slowly. Kain.

The name didn’t need to be said. Razor’s lip curled, thick muzzle pulling back just enough to show teeth. His grip tightened around the book until the spine bent.

“...Say that again.”

Twitch grinned wider. “Saw ‘em myself. All close. Friendly. Like they were old fuckin’ pals. Thought you’d wanna know.”

The book flew.

The slap of paper against flesh echoed loud enough to turn heads down the tier. Razor was already moving.

“You think I don’t see what you are?” Razor snarled, voice low and filthy, words dripping contempt. “Fresh meat walks in here and suddenly you’re playin’ polite? Readin’ your little manners book like you’re too good for this place?”

He leaned in close “Or maybe that’s just how you work, huh. On your back. Smilin’ pretty for whoever’s got a name.”

His laugh was ugly. “Figures you’d spread yourself for that mangy hyena. Kain’ll fuck anything that breathes.”

Behind him, Twitch made an exaggerated oof sound, hand to his chest. “Damn, boss. That’s cold.” He bounced on his heels, eyes darting between Razor and the scene in front of him, practically vibrating. “But hey what if it ain’t true?”

Razor’s eyes flicked sideways.

Twitch raised both hands, placating but smiling. “I’m just sayin’. What if he ain’t loyal to nobody yet? New guys lie. They test waters.” He tilted his head, grin sharpening. “There’s a real easy way to find out, right?”

Razor paused.

Twitch leaned closer, voice dropping into something conspiratorial. “If he’s really yours, boss... shouldn’t he prove it? Not to Kain. To you.”

“Yeah,” Razor murmured. “Yeah, I like that.”

He straightened and glanced over his shoulder. “Loom.”

Loom had been there the whole time silent, still, back against the railing. He adjusted his glasses with two fingers. He pushed off the rail and stepped forward without a word.

His grip was immediate and precise. One hand locked around an arm, the other pinning the opposite side with controlled force.

Twitch clapped once, delighted. “Look at that. Told you it’d get fun.”

Razor stepped in again, looming close, voice dropping into a cruel purr. “You hear that? This ain’t about Kain."

He tilted his head “You wanna play the whore, you do it for me. Not some Block C scrap.”

Twitch sidled closer, bouncing, talking fast. “Boss, boss hey don’t rush it.” He circled slightly, fingers twitching like he wanted to touch something he wasn’t allowed to yet. “Let’s see how loyal he really is, yeah? I wanna see.”

Razor didn’t answer right away. He just smiled wider, savoring the moment, watching Loom hold firm, watching Twitch unravel with excitement.

“Patience,” Razor said finally. “We’ll all get our turn."

The common area felt tighter than usual, the heat clung to skin, stale and damp, mixed with disinfectant and old sweat. Razor sat on a bench, elbows on his knees, thick fingers laced together. His mood wasn’t sour, it was amused.

“Been watchin’ you,” Razor said, voice rough but lazy, a grin pulling at his muzzle. “Behavin’. Keepin’ your head down. Followin’ rules like they mean somethin’ in here.”

A short laugh rumbled out of his chest. “Figure that earns you somethin’. Go on. Ask.”

The word ask came out crooked, like a joke only he was in on. Razor leaned back, spreading himself wide, clearly enjoying the irony. “Not that I can do much. This place don’t exactly run on favors.” He snorted. “But humor me.”

Before the air could settle, Loom spoke. “Hey.”

Just one word. It cut straight through Razor’s grin.

Loom had stepped closer without anyone noticing, tall frame blocking the light, glasses catching a dull reflection. His eyes were darker than usual, fixed and hollow.

“...What” Razor growled.

Loom didn’t look at him at first. His attention stayed locked forward. “Enough. It’s my turn.”

Razor scoffed. “Your turn?” He pushed to his feet, towering. “Don’t get fuckin’ bold with me.”

Twitch, lounging nearby, burst into laughter. “Ohhh, here we go.” He wiped at his eyes, grinning. “Fuck Loom, you drained him dry. Everybody sees it. He's thinner than when he walked in. You been usin’ him like a stress ball.”

Loom’s head snapped toward Twitch. “Shut up.”

Twitch only laughed harder, rocking in place.

“Aww, touchy. Guess I hit somethin’. You gettin’ attached, Loom? Or just worked him too hard?”

Razor’s amusement evaporated. His fists clenched. “The fuck is this?” he barked. “Today’s mine. I said it was. You don’t get to override me.”

Loom finally turned to face him. They stood close now.

“He keeps me stable,” Loom said. “You want me calm. You want me functional. This is how.”

Razor laughed, sharp and angry. “You don’t need him. You’re not special.”

“I do,” Loom replied flatly.

That was enough.

Razor surged forward a step, chest puffed, teeth bared. “You think you can claim what’s mine? After I let you walk with us? After I gave you space?”

Twitch slid between them suddenly, hands out, jittery excitement buzzing off him. “Hey—hey don’t wreck the furniture yet.” His eyes darted between them, thrilled. “This is good though. I like this. Real family talk.”

Razor shoved Twitch aside with a snarl. “Stay out of it.”

Twitch stumbled, laughed, then leaned back in anyway. “C’mon, boss. You can’t both have him tonight? Or we settlin’ this the old way?”

Loom didn’t blink. His hands were steady at his sides, but something ugly flickered beneath the surface. “I’m not asking, I’m telling you.”

The room felt like it might crack. Razor’s breathing grew heavy, shoulders rolling as he sized Loom up, anger boiling.

“...You’re forgettin’ your place,” Razor said.

Loom stepped closer, invading Razor’s space now, voice barely above a whisper. “No. I know exactly where it is.”