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It’s been a fucking day. And for once it’s not even Simon’s fault.
Sure, he’s never been stellar at keeping his head down when he probably fucking should, but it seems like every other comment he’s made today has landed him in deeper shit than the last. The dickface warden had gotten a little too close during role call that morning and apparently hadn’t fucking appreciated the way Simon didn’t back down from the force of his hot ass onion breath, so he'd decided to stomp the fuck outta Simon’s big toe without warning. Then some skinny white kid got his ass handed to him on the court after lunch and decided to come at Simon (who hadn’t even been playing, but had rather been staring very peacefully into middle distance thinking about getting the hell outta this shithole) with the force of a thousand anorexic suns, but of course it was Simon who got restrained and returned to his cell until dinner. And he can’t even remember what he said in the cafeteria but next thing he knows he's flat on his back having mashed potatoes dropped on his face while the fucking pigs in the corner act like they’ve suddenly gone blind and just keep talking about whatever bullshit it is pigs talk about.
So he’s fucking pissed . Red-hot, smoke coming outta his ears kinda pissed. So he does the one thing he can think of to keep himself from putting a fist through someone's chest cavity: he goes and calls Patty.
It’s been a few days since their last call, so Simon was already itchin to hear her voice, but it’s like all of a sudden he needs it. He needs to hear about her mundane job interviews and how she stayed on the bus for three extra stops just for fun and then regretted it on the walk home and what sort of lunch she had that day and all the stupid boring shit that would irritate the fuck outta Simon if it was coming from anyone other than his Patty. So he signs the log sheet, leans up real close to the phone box, dials her number, and closes his eyes.
It only rings once.
“Simon!” Patty’s excited voice rattles through the speaker, and it’s like music to his fucking ears. All of the day's troubles washed away in two little syllables. Simon swears she’s fucking magic.
“Hey Patty, how’s my girl doing?” He says, tugging at the metal phone cord.
“M’okay, I would be better if you were here, though,” She says, and one of the things that Simon loves about Patty is he knows she ain’t bullshitting when she says stuff like that. With everyone else, he’d assume they’re just fluffing it up to make him feel better, but with Patty, you get exactly what she says.
“Yeah, I know. I’m feeling the same,” He flexes his sore toe in his county-approved inmate slip-ons. God, he misses his fucking boots. He woulda kicked the nuts off the warden in those.
“Oh no. Has it been one of those days?” Patty asks seriously, and Simon smiles.
“Aw hell, don’t worry about it Pats. It’s all good now that I’m hearing your voice.” And he means it with his whole fucking soul.
“Well that’s good, I guess. I’m glad I can cheer you up right now, but I wish I could do more for you,” She says, and Simon chuckles.
“Yeah? Well, that’s very kind of you miss Patty. What exactly did you have in mind?”
“If I could, I would suck your dick. Probably that.” And Simon nearly drops the fucking phone. The other thing he loves about Patty: how she goes from zero to a hundred just like that.
“ Jesus , Pats,” He takes a deep breath. “You can’t just jump a guy like that.” He can hear her smile over the phone.
“But you like it,” Patty says. And she’s right, he does. A little too much, in fact.
“Well, you’ve got about 13 more minutes and an audience comprised of myself and the lucky fuck who monitors these fucking calls. Don’t let me stop you from elaborating on that statement,” He says somewhat smoothly, but he knows that she knows that this is what he needs right now. And although Patty is more than willing to oblige, she won’t do it without a bit of teasing. Because she knows that he knows that she likes it when he begs .
“That’s all I had. That’s my entire plan. Sucking you off,” And she draws out the ‘s’ in a way that makes the hairs on Simon’s neck stand up. “Until you finish, obviously,” She adds, like an afterthought. He grips the phone a little tighter. Squeezes his eyes shut a little harder.
“C’mon, Patty,” He grits out, and he isn’t even sure what he’s fucking asking for. He reaches down and adjusts himself through the itchy fucking blue jumpsuit and finds himself already stiffening. He lets out a short breath; it's almost a laugh, mostly at himself. God, he’s fucking pent-up.
“C’mon, Simon, ” Patty returns coyly, and then there’s some jostling on her end. The sound of fabric rubbing against the phone. The dull thump of shoes hitting the ground.
“What are you doing?” He asks, trying to picture her in his head.
“I’m taking my pants off,” She says. Fuck .
“ Please, Pats,” He whines. It sounds wholly pathetic. Patty hums in approval.
“There it is,” She says, satisfied. “I love when your voice does that.”
“Yeah, whatever. It sounds like your average scumbag begging to get his rocks off. Now please keep talking.” And Patty, the enigma of a woman that she is, giggles .
“I’d probably want you laying down for it,” She starts, and Simon nods.
“Makes sense. With the mouth you have, I might come my legs right off,” He agrees, before a loud shhhhh! erupts over the phone.
“You said to talk, so I’m talking,” Patty pouts, and Simon clamps his mouth shut. There's a beat of silence before Patty resumes.
“I’d start with kissing you, I think. Messy. With tongue. Just how we both like,” Simon’s free hand comes up in a fist to brace against the cement-brick wall. He makes a small noise of encouragement when Patty pauses again.
“Eventually, I’d wind up moving down to your stomach. I’d feel you through your boxers just to see how excited you were from the kissing n’stuff. You’d feel big in my hand- you always feel so big in my hand, Simon.” Simon makes a very different, more embarrassing small noise at that. He’s panting a little bit, and beginning to think that he should have chosen the phone box in the corner of the room because if anyone walks in they’re going to see him sporting a half-chub over a phone call.
“I’d touch you through the fabric. I always like seeing how almost black the front of those blue boxers gets when you’re worked up like that. It’s so sticky and gross,” She continues, and her words sound a little thinner now, like she's got the phone resting next to her face instead of held up against it. Simon strains his ears and has to bite his tongue when he thinks he hears the wet slide of fingers on folds.
“You’d offer to do me first because you’re nice like that, but I can see how much you want it. So… I’d slip my hand under your boxers and you would be so warm and so- mmm - so stiff,” Jesus fucking Christ. Simon can’t help it- he reaches down to press against his crotch, aching for any sort of friction. Aching to see what Patty looks like right now, fingers working herself as she lets out soft little moans.
“And I’d take you all the way down. All at once,” She says, matter-of-fact.
“Fuck, ” Simon groans, and Patty doesn’t shush him this time. In fact, she laughs.
“Yeah, you’d probably say something like that- ah ,” She agrees. “You’d put your hands in my hair too, holding me there. And I’d start humming one of your songs with you in the- nngh- in the back of my throat,” Simon squeezes his dick, hard , crowding as close as possible against the phone box. If any motherfucker walks in right now and says some smart shit, Simon swears he'll tear their fucking eyes out.
“God , you’re good at this,” He says, breathless. “It’s like you’re reading the script from one of my wet fucking dreams.”
“Mmm , I wish it was real,” She complains, and he can hear her voice tightening as she brings herself closer to the edge. “I wish you were here, Simon. I wish I could touch you- ah-” He brings up his fist to jam it into his flaming fucking face. He feels hot all over, and he knows if he opens his eyes and looks down he’ll see an embarrassing tent in the front of his jumpsuit.
“I know, I know, Patty. Me too. God, I wish I could see you right now. Jesus. I’ve never wanted anything more in my entire fucking life-” He cuts himself off as he hears Patty start to get louder, savoring every tinny sound that makes it through the shitty prison phone speaker.
“I’d let you move me- uh - up and down as fast as you want,” She says, and she sounds almost frantic, like she’s trying to get it all out all at once. “You won't admit it but - hah- I know you like it when I choke a littlennngh- ah!” And then she sounds very far away, and Simon has the phone rammed so hard against his ear he’s probably gonna have a bruise tomorrow but he doesn’t fucking care because Patty’s coming and it’s the sweetest noise he’s ever heard and his hand is shaking with how hard he's clenching it against his sweaty forehead, trying to resist the urge to drop trou and deal with his hard-on right then and there- possible spectators be damned. It’s a very near thing, but somehow he manages to swallow his desire. For now.
It only takes a moment before Patty’s back.
“Do you think the phone-monitor guy enjoyed that?” She asks, and Simon can’t help the sharp laugh that escapes him.
“Yeah, Patty, I’m sure he fucking did,” He says, and he can’t find it in himself to be even a little bit jealous over it. The whole world could have been listening, and it wouldn’t have mattered, because Patty was talking about him. Hell, she came at just the thought of him. If that doesn’t earn him bragging rights, what fucking would?
“We’ve got almost 2 minutes left, what should we talk about now?” Patty asks casually, and the whiplash that Simon gets from it is fucking lethal.
“Patty, I’m gonna be honest with you, I’m so hard right now I can’t think of anything other than how quickly I’m gonna go jerk off after this phone call ends,” He admits shakily, and Patty laughs, delighted.
“Well don’t let me keep you and Mr. Lefty from getting to business,” She jokes. God, she’s the tits.
“I love you, Patty. So much,” Simon says thickly. He really is the luckiest guy in the entire fucking world. If he wasn’t so horny right now he would probably get weepy about it.
“I love you too, Simon,” Patty replies easily, and there’s a moment of comfortable silence before an all too familiar click sounds as the phone automatically hangs up. Simon lets out a long, measured breath and carefully sets the phone down.
He doesn’t even last four seconds once he reaches the showers. As soon as he gets a hand on himself, it’s over for him.