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He hadn't ever understood the concept of lust like his cellmates did. It was like they all just knew the feeling of need, like they could tell right away when they needed a private corner to sit in.

Uno didn't even have any shame in it anymore. He'd just pick up a magazine, filled with obscene images (most likely received from building 5,) and he'd sit in a corner away from them. His back facing them of course, but that didn't hide the noises, the squishing, the small bit off moans, or sometimes the mumbling underneath his breath.

Jyugo would just lay on his side in the cell, close his eyes, and face away. Rock and Nico never seemed to mind it too much though. Sometimes Rock would say something about how 'strange' the girl on the magazine was and make fun of Uno for his tastes. Nico on the other hand would sometimes sit right up against Uno, back to back, reading (looking at) his book while blabbering to Uno about the superhero's big battle.

Rock had more class about it though, he'd sneak off to a distant bathroom. Jyugo didn't mind helping him get there, just a few locks, and Rock could have peace and quiet to work out whatever he had to work out. Sometimes he did it in the cell too though.

Nico on the other hand would do it at night when he thought everyone was sleeping. Jyugo wasn't always awake, but sometimes on those nights he had some sinking feeling in his chest (for the oddest of reasons), he'd hear Nico's voice and the small shift of the covers.

He didn't understand why they did it. What compelled them to seek pleasure.

He never felt that way.


"Ooooh momma got the goods," Uno came barreling into the cell, nearly tripping himself over Jyugo's outstretched legs. Two magazines shoved between his arm and his side, in some lame attempt to conceal them from the guards.

"Don't refer to yourself like that," he groans, slapping a hand over his eyes.

Uno makes an appalling noise. "You saying that I'm not the mother hen here?" He almost sounds hurt.

"Jyugo is just picking," Rock says attempting to swipe a magazine from Uno. Uno hisses and pulls them away. "Hey what's-"

"These are special! It's more diverse this time around so Jyugo gets first dibs. There's gotta be something here he likes."

Hearing his name forces him to lift his hand from his eyes and gaze up at UNO's shit-eating grin. "What do you say, buddy?"

Jyugo wants to say no. That he's not interested. It's never interested him before after all but maybe it's some false sense of hope that keeps his mouth shut. Maybe deep down he wants to find something that makes him...want to seek pleasure.

Like normal teenage boys do.


"How about this one?" Uno says, practically shoving the image down Jyugo's throat. A blonde woman, legs spread wide, her fingers trailing down her inner lips- nothing.

Jyugo didn't feel a fucking thing and it's driving him mad. Is there something wrong with him? Why didn't he feel lust? Why didn't he ever get...hard? Why didn't he want to chase the pleasure he knew he was suppose to?

"She's pretty," Nico says, leaning against his side. His body warm, his hair tickling his neck, and somehow someway, he feels some sort of sticking gross feeling in his chest.

He loves Nico to death but somehow, he can't help but hate his touch.

He doesn't know why he feels like this.

He can't figure it out.

"So good that you've lost your words?" Uno nudges him with his foot.

"As if," Jyogo says, rolling his eyes.

Uno flips the page.

They get through both books without Jyugo so much as feeling an irregular heartbeat.


He wondered if he was broken. He must be, right? But somehow he didn't care. It's not like it mattered much.

He's fine the way he is, at least that's what he tells himself. He'll just forget, put it out of his mind like he does best.

It's nothing worth worrying over.