"Hey Anderson, you seen that new kid yet?" 'Slade' asked as he slid into his seat next to Blaine. His name wasn't actually Slade, obviously. When he'd entered the Ohio Correctional Institute, he was known as Joshua Dorias. He came in about a month after Blaine did. At least, that's what they figured. You loose track of time in jail. The two of them had been cell mates for years now, and worked their way up through the hectic structures of the prison. Slade had been his right hand man from the start.

Dave Karofsky, Wes Montgomery, and Jacob Issac were the next the join their table, almost throwing themselves into their seats like they owned the place. Which, technically, they did.

"Hello to you too jack ass." Blaine chuckled, reaching out to snatch Jacob's chocolate milk. The theft was answered with a 'fuck you Anderson', but the muscular boy knew better than to try and get it back. They only got chocolate milk twice a month, and every time Blaine would steal it. Something about it being the only thing he really missed from the 'outside world'.

"I'm serious man, this bitch is some hot shit." Slade insisted eagerly. "God that ass is just..." he trailed off, hands making a vulgar gesture in the air.

"You talking about the new guy?" Karofsky asked. When Slade nodded, he groaned and leaned back in his seat. "He isn't fucking with you." he agreed. "That is one sexy little twink."

Blaine just laughed and shook his head. "Look and see for yourself, oh High-And-Mighty." Wes pointed with his fork toward the door, a clear challenge in his voice. The self proclaimed leader of their group decided to look just to make them all shut up. They knew that he was rather... particular about his men, especially here where god only knew where they'd been before.

His eyes scanned the familiar faces, nearly all of them looking down in terror as he gazed even in their vague direction. He knew who they were talking about almost the moment he saw him. The boy couldn't be more than nineteen, shoulders curled in as he tried to navigate the crowded lunch room. He finally managed to get to the farthest corner of the room, huddled up so he would hopefully not be seen. As if that all wasn't enough, the way he picked uncomfortably at his clothes and the way his eyes flicked around made it clear that he didn't belong here. God only knew what this porcelain skinned brunette had done to get thrown in jail.

There was one thing that Blaine knew for certain. He wanted him.

And Blaine Anderson always got what he wanted.