behind bars 4/6
masterpost | part i | part ii | part iii | part iv | part v | part vi
part four
It is already the last day of January, and David can hardly understand how time seems to have gone by so quickly after Christmas. As he walks down the corridor, heading towards the cells, his mind wanders to what happened between him, Cook, and Tiemann on Christmas morning. It had been repeated on New Years Eve day, well sort of anyway. New Years Eve day had actually mostly been him and Cook, but Tiemann had been sitting next to them and watched as David made Cook come (twice).
He turns a corner, blushing slightly as the memories seem to take over him completely. Tiemann hadn't said a word the second time, but instead just reached out a large hand and petted his hair, encouraging him to take Cook deeper into his mouth, and David had done his best to please both men by opening his mouth wider and trying to relaxing his throat. Even now, a month later, he still sometimes can feel the hand in his hair and the end of Cook's penis touching the back of his throat, and maybe he doesn't hate it as much as he thinks he ought to.
The other inmates are out in the yard, and David was supposed to have been there too. But moments before they were allowed outside, Yeager had come and told him that he had a visitor. The visitor had turned out to be none other than Andrew Cook, Cook's younger brother. They hadn't said much at first, David shifting uncomfortable in the seat, but then Andrew had started to tell him all these crazy stories about Cook as a child and David had listened and smiled and giggled for almost an hour before Andrew had to leave again. He never did get why Andrew wanted to see him, of all people, but he appreciated it still. In fact, it made his relationship with Cook seem a bit more real. As he walks towards the door leading to the outside, he silently promises himself that next time his mom comes to see him, he will tell her all about Cook.
"Hey there," says a voice behind him, and David turns around to see Colton and Hernandez standing awfully close to him. He picks up his pace, walking determinedly towards the door, eager to get outside to Cook again. "What's the rush?" asks Colton and matches his pace, a pale arm going around his shoulder. David tries to shake it off, but pointy nails bite into his shoulder.
"Cook will get mad," he tries, because really, that's the best ammunition he's got right now. Cook has promised to protect him in here, and so far the whole protection thing has gone really well. No one has dared to touch him, afraid to go against Cook and ultimately Tiemann too. So he can't help but wonder why the heck Colton and Hernandez seem to no longer care about all of this.
Colton stops him, and David reluctantly stops walking, eyes fixed on the door, "Yeah, well," says Colton, smirking and shrugging casually as if he doesn't care one bit about Cook's wrath. "Your daddy ain't here right now, and I doubt you'll even be able to tell him who made you dance on a blacktop once we're finished with you."
Right, so David has no idea what dancing on a blacktop even means, but Colton must be more stupid than he had originally thought if he seriously expects David not to tell Cook about this. Not that he will need to tell Cook much, because Cook always seems to know stuff in here about everyone.
"I will tell Cook," he threatens in his meanest voice, though he's fairly sure that it doesn't sound mean at all, especially not when his voice cracks a bit, making him instead sound like a scared child. When Hernandez starts to laugh, he knows that it hadn't helped at all.
David opens his mouth, prepared to scream his lungs out when someone hits him on the back of his head. Tiny dots of black appear before his eyes, and it suddenly seems difficult to concentrate.
Next time he opens his eyes, he is in the infamous limbo room. Cook had showed him the limbo room one afternoon a couple of months ago, and David has never been back there since then. Until now, anyway. The limbo room is actually part of the room next to the showers. It's in a blind spot though, when it comes to the cameras, which makes it ideal for using it as a punishment room.
David shivers, his mind finally catching up with him as he stands there with his back to the wall and two smirking faces in front of him. Colton reaches out and David winces and tries to move his head. Pain erupts from the spot on the back of his head where he had been hit before, and all he manages to do is whimper softly.
"When we're done with you, not even the likes of Cook will want you," hisses Colton. All David can focus on is how pale Colton's skin is, and how very nonexistent the eyelashes seem to be. Hernandez is the complete opposite of Colton. His skin is slightly dark, as if sun-kissed, and instead of the white hair Hernandez' hair is black. Like David's.
And then he screams; his voice hoarse and dry and his throat hurt a bit. Hernandez puts a hand over his mouth and David instinctively bites it, hard, teeth sinking into the skin, leaving visible marks. Hernandez swears loudly and pulls back, back-handing David across the mouth. It hurts, a lot, and tears start to prickle at the corner of his eyes, but he doesn't give up. He starts to push and shove, kicks with his legs the best that he can, pleased when his foot connects with something.
"Let him scream," snarls Colton. "No one can hear him in here anyway."
David continues to scream, Cook's name leaving his lips. When no one comes to his rescue, he screams for Tiemann too, and Andy Skib and Kris. But mostly, he just screams for Cook.
Hernandez punches him in the stomach, and David has to stop screaming as all the air is knocked out of him. He doubles over, and the tears that threatened to spill before now fall freely. There is another punch against his stomach, and a third and a fourth.
He cries now, ashamed for not being able to hold his tears back and for not being able to get away.
"I hate you," hisses Colton and cuffs him hard on his ear, his head twisting with the blow. "You are pathetic."
And David kind of does feel pathetic right now. Still, he refuses to go down without a fight and uses what strength he has left to lunge out at his two attackers. He manages to surprise them a bit, because they both move back, which gives him room to run.
The black spots dance in front of his eyes, making it difficult to orientate himself, but he sees the opening coming closer and closer. He just needs to get out of here and into a room with cameras, and then he will be safe.
Fingers curl in his hair, holding onto the dark strands tightly, forcing him backwards. He loses his balance and falls back, head slamming harshly down into the cement floor. He cries out and tries to grab onto the hand still in his hair, his nails scraping over skin in an attempt to separate himself with the inmate holding him. He looks up, eyes wildly seeking the person and sees that it is Colton.
"Let me go," he pleads, trying desperately to remove the hand. Colton just laughs for a couple of seconds, then curses and snarls at him when David's nails seem to break the skin on the wrist.
"Don't just stand there," hisses Colton over his shoulder and David sees Hernandez through his teary eyes standing a bit away from them. The third inmate doesn't look happy though, and David notices him look at the opening.
"Please, Hernandez," he tries. Hernandez looks away, so David tries again, "Cook will hurt you for this."
He knows deep down that threatening your attackers might not be the smartest move, but he feels like he has to at least try. Besides, it's true. Cook will hurt them, just like he hurt that Garrett kid who accidentally told the wrong inmates that he thought Cook had gone soft. Garrett had paid for it, three weeks in the hospital wing with broken ribs and a broken leg. Everyone knew that it was Cook who had done it, even though Cook had managed to escape solitary confinement. Thanks to Johns who had managed to handle the situation.
"Remember what he did to Garrett?" he tries, whimpering and crying out as Colton manages to kick him in the ribs while still holding on to his hair.
"Shut your fucking mouth," yells Colton, and David sees Hernandez take a step closer to them.
"Colton, man, mayb-" starts Hernandez, but is quickly cut off by Colton.
"Grow a fucking pair, Hernandez! We fucking talked about this."
Hernandez nods absently, and David prays that the inmate will somehow put a stop to all of this. Unfortunately, David's prayer is not heard, because Hernandez steps over and replaces Colton's hold on his hair.
"Hernan-" he tries, tears blurring his sight. Colton kicks him viciously in the side, and suddenly David can no longer breathe properly. Everything hurts and he lies there, gasping for air. A kick to his head is followed quickly, and David can hear a gleeful laugh filling the room, the echo bouncing off of the plain white walls, surrounding him.
"Cook," he whispers, blood covering his teeth. Another kick to his face, abrupt pain taking over as soon as the foot is gone again, blood gushing from his nose.
He feels a hand painfully grabbing him between the legs, squeezing hard.
"No," he hisses, swallowing some of the blood, and coughs as he tries to squirm away. "No," he says again, frantically trying to kick with his own legs but to no avail. All he hits is the empty air, the heels of his shoes clashing down into the cemented floor tiredly.
He can no longer see properly; blood and tears blurring his eyesight, stomach aching with pain.
"What the fuck!"
David turns to the sound of the voice, immediately recognizing it. Cook. He hears rather than sees someone fighting. A slap against the wall, shoes moving harshly and feet being dragged across the floor. He tries to wipe his eyes, and manages to succeed just a bit. He watches as Cook kicks Colton, watches as Colton curls up on the floor not that far away from David, watches as Hernandez tries to make a run for it but Tiemann grabs him by the collar of his shirt and hits him square on the jaw. He watches until he can no longer watch anymore; until all he can focus on is trying to breathe.
Tender hands hover over his face, lightly touching his cheeks every now and then, soft, caring murmurs whispered into his ear, "David, you're going to be alright." It's Kris. He blinks, trying to focus. He sees Kris and Andy Skib kneeling at his side and behind them Tiemann, as he watches Cook kick and punch Colton and Hernandez, showing them no mercy. He shudders, tired and in pain.
"Cook," he calls meekly, voice barely audible against the loud sounds of pained groans. Tiemann puts a hand on Cook's shoulder, and David watches as Cook turns, face red from anger.
"David," is all Tiemann says. Or at least that's what David thinks the tattooed man says. There is this weird ringing sound that fills the room.
Cook walks over fast and Kris and Andy Skib barely have time to move away before Cook drops to his knees and cradles David's face between his bloodied hands. David can't decide if the tears he sees are his own and are clouding his sight or if Cook really is crying.
"Don't worry," says Cook, voice breaking as he speaks, "they won't hurt you again."
Johns is the first guard on the scene and David observes from his spot on the floor as Johns' eyes go wide and mouth falls open. Hands reach up and pulls at the hair, making it stand in weird directions.
"Cook, for fucks sake!" yells Johns, waving his arms around dramatically. "What the fuck have you done?"
Cook doesn't answer, and David doesn't think it sounds like a question either. He looks at Cook, tries to smile as his boyfriend uses his thumb to wipe away some of the blood that has gathered at the corner of his mouth. His tongue darts out and licks at his lips that have gone dry. He can taste the blood, and the tip of his tongue touches Cook's thumb.
"I can't bloody hell save you from this one. I barely managed to fix it for you last time, mate."
Soon, the room is swamped with guards, Yeager and Luke Menard standing behind Johns, both lifting their truncheons up so everyone can see that they have them and that they are willing to use them.
"Cook, you're going in solitary confinement until further notice," says Yeager, stepping forward.
David looks at Cook, tries to beg for him to not leave him, but all that comes out is a choked groan.
"Neal. Look after him until I return. Don't let him leave your sight. You're going to protect him now," is all Cook says before he, with one final look at David, gets up and moves over to Johns. Johns gives Cook a sad look and pulls out his handcuffs from his belt, and Cook turns without a word and presents his hands at his back.
"David, I'll be back," promises Cook before Yeager and Johns take him away.
Tiemann moves over to David's side, taking Cook's place and grabs David's hand tightly in his. Andy Skib and Kris stand not too far away, watching them. Kris has tears in his eyes, and David tries to tell him that everything will be okay again. He is not sure that he believes it himself, but Kris' mouth gives him a weak smile.
Colton and Hernandez lie silently on the floor in the other corner and David tries not to pay them any attention. Tiemann squeezes his hand and David forces himself to return the squeeze even though it hurts. They wait for the medic team to come get them.
~
David stays in the infirmary for almost ten full days before the doctor tells him that he can no longer stay there. Hernandez is still there when he leaves, though he was placed in a separate room so that they didn't see each other. Colton had been transferred to another hospital on the first day due to complications. David is still in pain, though it's easier to walk around now with the meds that he has been given. Johns is the one who follows him back to the cells. The Australian guard makes these weird and awkward jokes about nothing at all, and David pretends that the jokes are funny and laughs politely, his face hurting every time he tries to smile.
They stop before they enter the cellblock, and David looks expectantly up at Johns. No one has told him much about Cook other than that he's still in dissociation.
Johns sighs and starts talking before David gets a chance to ask. "Cook will be there for a long time. He really hurt Hernandez and Colton and the warden doesn't like it when inmates fight. I made sure that he knew Cook did it to save you, but honestly, the warden has never been much of a Cook fan so chances are that he will be there for a couple of months."
David's eyes go wide as he looks at Johns. Months! He can hardly breathe at the thought of not seeing Cook for this long, and he briefly wonders what will become of him when Johns continues. "I've arranged it so that you can move into Tiemann's cell if you want until Cook returns. Or you can stay with Skib. It's up to you. That was the best I could do."
David nods; his eyes on the floor as he cradles his arm close to his chest.
"Archuleta, mate," says Johns, voice soft and caring. Johns hasn't called him by his last name since before he became Cook's boy. He nods again and looks up. "The choice is yours. If you want to stay with Skib, you can. And no one will think any less of you if you choose to move in with Tiemann until Cook returns."
He glances at the floor, unable to decide what to do. He tries to imagine what Cook will want him to do. Well, he kind of thinks that he knows what Cook will want him to do, but he is not so sure that he can actually do it.
"I don't know," he whispers, slightly anxious for not being able to make a decision. He feels like he is back to square one, and he can't stop thinking about his first day in here nearly half a year ago. Memories of how frightened and how overwhelmed by everything he had been come back to him.
"Think about it. I'll come after dinner and ask again." Johns pats him awkwardly on the shoulder and then continues to walk. David sees Kris standing outside his and Andy Skib's cell, smiling tentatively when David nears him.
Johns looks at the two of them, greets Kris and then leaves. David looks at his shoes, uncomfortable and achy all over. He shifts from one foot to another. Then he looks up and meets Kris' gaze which is kind of sad. He frowns, confused.
"Hey," says Kris quietly and David smiles softly in return.
"I'm glad to see that you are alright," says Kris. David looks at him, somewhat angry because he is definitely not alright and he can't understand why Kris can't see that.
"We all missed you."
They stand there in silence for a couple of long seconds, neither of them speaking.
"I've missed you guys too," he finally says and means it. He smiles softly and Kris smiles back, looking almost relieved.
"Come on, let's get you settled in again then," says Kris and grabs his elbow to help him into the tiny cell. Everything looks normal. His pictures are all still where they belong, he thinks, seeing them there.
"Johns said I could move in with Tiemann until Cook returns if I want," he blurts out quickly. He doesn't know why he feels the need to tell Kris this, but Kris doesn't look overly surprised. In fact, he nods as if he can totally see the logic in that. David is still uncertain, but he is glad that at least one of them seems to know what to do. "What do you think?" he asks finally.
"I can't decide for you David, but maybe it's a good thing. Tiemann… Neal, he cares for you and he wants what's best for you. Plus, Cook made him promise that he would look after you from now on and maybe that easiest to do if you guys share a cell."
David sits on his bunk, one hand reaching out to touch the sheets. He moves around until he lies on the bed, head placed firmly on the pillow as he glances up at the bunk above him.
"Not sure I want to leave this cell though. I mean, I've gotten used to Andy Skib." Kris laughs at this and David's cheeks flush a bit red from embarrassment. He rolls his eyes and looks at Kris who stands next to the bed, leaning up against the wall.
"Andy will miss you if you decide to leave. He won't tell you, but I know that he will. Still, if you feel safer when being with Neal, then you should do it."
David has never told Kris about his time with Cook and Tiemann on Christmas morning or New Years Eve day, but he is fairly sure that Kris knows anyway. Kris always seems to know stuff like this. Or maybe it was because for the entire month after it happened the last time, David couldn't stop blushing every time Cook smirked at him or Tiemann glared at him.
"I don't know," he says quietly, more to himself than to Kris. Because he feels so conflicted; it's like all his emotions are running wild inside and he can't seem to keep them under control no matter what he does.
"Hey," says Kris, placing a hand on his shoulder to make him listen. David, however, jumps in his seat and stares with wide eyes at Kris, his breathing irregular, as he tries to focus on the person in front of him. "Hey, David, relax, it's just me," says Kris quickly and moves away, hand falling from David's shoulder.
"I…" he says, and then lifts his hands up and buries his face in them. Now he feels stupid. Because he knew that Kris was there, knew that it was Kris' hand. He had just momentarily zoned out, too wrapped up in his own thoughts, and the hand had startled him. "Sorry, I'm sorry," he mumbles, still trying to steady his breathing. His heart feels like it might just force its way out of his chest judging by the way it's hammering away.
"Don't apologize," says Kris gently, and David smiles in gratitude. Honestly, he didn't mean to react that way. It was irrational and awkward and just not him. Well, that's not entirely true. He has never been good with people touching him, but ever since he got in here, he has gotten used to Cook's constant touches.
"Just, um," he says, though he doesn't finish the sentence. He doesn't know what he wants to say.
And he doubts that Kris understands what he means either, yet the southern inmate just smiles and says, "I won't."
Kris sits down on the bunk next to David, leaving enough space between them that could easily fit another person. He silently appreciates that Kris does this, and slowly but surely, his heartbeat seems to go back to normal again.
"Jug-up," says Kris. He has learned that the inmates call meal-time 'jug-up' in here. He doesn't really see the point of making up another word when you can straightforwardly just say the correct word, but Kris uses it and he has even heard Cook use it on several occasions.
David nods absentmindedly. The thought of walking into the cafeteria where everyone knows what has happened makes him feel nauseous. "I'm not hungry," he says, shrugging.
Kris stands and looks down at him, and David can see his friend is worried. David doesn't say anything and Kris doesn't ask him to reconsider. A few seconds later, David watches as Kris leave the cell, leaving David behind. He closes his eyes and doesn't do anything when tears start to burn behind the closed lids. He has no idea how long he sits there, but next time he opens his eyes, Tiemann is standing in the opening of the cell, looking at him, startling David.
"Oh my heck," he almost yells, hand going up to rest on the left side of his chest. His heart is hammering away again. "Um, you scared me," he adds when Tiemann merely crosses his arms across his chest and lifts an eyebrow.
"Why aren't you at dinner," asks Tiemann, tone of voice sounding indifferent. David dislikes it when he can't tell what mood Tiemann is in. It makes him feel awkward, self-conscious and kind of like he ought to apologize even though he has no idea why or if it's even necessary.
"Not hungry," he lies. Not that he is really hungry, not yet at least, but he knows that he probably will be in an hour or so.
"Yeah well, fuck that. You're going to dinner now, and I don't care if I have to drag you there myself." Tiemann uncrosses his arms again and pushes away from the frame of the opening, walking towards David who in return cowers closer to the wall.
"Fuck, David." Tiemann sounds angry, and David can't help but pull his legs closer to his body. He knows he is being stupid, because even though Tiemann probably could (and would) hurt him given the chance, he knows that the tattooed inmate in front of him has promised Cook to look after him. "Don't fucking move away from me. Shit, I'm not going to hurt you."
However, one thing is to know the facts, and another is to actually know them. The way David sees it, there's a difference between knowing and knowing. He knows that Tiemann won't hurt him, because there is no reason for him to do so nor has he even done anything to make David believe that it will happen. Deep down, however, David doesn't really know Tiemann that well. He doesn't know if Tiemann might just suddenly change his mind and hit him when he least expects it, because Cook has always been there for him to prevent something like that from happening.
"Listen, David," says Tiemann, voice suddenly low and soft. David looks up, confused and surprised at the same time. "You can't hide in here forever. You need food, otherwise you'll just end up wasting away and then Cook will be pissed when he gets out of dissociation because he cares so much about you."
David swallows a lump in his throat. His mouth opens and then closes, not sure what to say.
"I care too, you know," says Tiemann. David's eyes go wide, and Tiemann quickly clears his throat and adds, "And Kris and Andy care too. We all care."
"I know," he says, head bowed slightly. "And I care about you too." Inhale, exhale. "All of you," he corrects himself. "I'm just not sure if I'll be able to, you know, um, go out there and have people, um, stare at me and, um, stuff," he continues, practically stumbling over the words in the process. Just thinking about setting a foot back into the cafeteria makes his ribs ache and his arm hurt again.
"Yeah, well. I promised Cook to look after you, and that means that until he returns you are mine." David shivers at the possessiveness in Tiemann's voice. Though he figures that this is something Cook would make Tiemann promise, he only vaguely remembers what happened that day. Every time he tries to remember the details, all that he remembers if the excruciating pain and the feeling of being helpless.
"Get up," demands Tiemann, and David rises automatically from the bed without even thinking about it. He stares at the wall in front of him, surprised that he didn't even think twice about Tiemann's order. "Good," says Tiemann, sounding pleased. David turns his head and sees a small, faint smirk gracing Tiemann's lips.
They stand like that for a couple of seconds, David looking at Tiemann's mouth and Tiemann staring at him in return. Then a pale muscular arm reaches out, and David instinctively takes a step back, head moving away from the hand that looms in front of his face. His eyes widen as he looks tentatively up until he meets Tiemann's eyes. "What the fuck," says Tiemann, sounding a bit irritated.
"I'm sorry," he whispers, limbs completely frozen in shock.
"If anyone had seen that you'd be dead meat in seconds. They'd think that I, and Cook for God's sake, couldn't handle a mere punk like you." Tiemann doesn't just sound annoyed now, he sounds absolutely livid and David can't help but let out a small whimper in response.
"Stand the fuck still," hisses Tiemann and lifts his arm again, large hand reaching out for David's face. David nods, desperate to make it all okay again. As pathetic as it may sound, he knows that in order to survive in here, he needs someone to protect him, and if Cook is unable to do it, then he is glad that Tiemann has taken over the job.
"I just -"
Tiemann glares at him, making David stop talking immediately. "I'm not Cook. So here are some of my rules. Rule number one, no fucking talking unless spoken to. Number two, you do as I say when I say it, and finally number three, you don't walk around alone."
"Okay," he murmurs, barely recognizing his own voice as the word leaves his mouth. Tiemann looks surprised at him for a split second before pursing his lips shut and nodding curtly. David knows the rules are important, so he sees no reason to argue with them. He wonders briefly is he should tell Tiemann about Johns' offer, but Tiemann's first rule looms in the back of his mind, forcing him to stay quiet.
"Dinner now," says Tiemann, and David walks out of the cell, slow steps in order to prolong it as much as he can. He tries to tell himself that at least Kris and Andy will be there, and Tiemann too, when a large hand is placed possessively on his shoulder, urging him to walk faster.
He stumbles, blushes and lowers his eyes to the floor as he walks. Tiemann's thumb rubs soothing circles on the back of his neck, and David appreciates the small comfort, especially when they walk into the cafeteria and more than half of the inmates stop talking and instead watch them carefully. Tiemann just sneers as they walk further into the room, leading David to the line.
He can't help but think how very different from Cook that Tiemann is when Tiemann lets David carry one tray that he fills with two plates of something that David doesn't even want to think about what is, and drinks, and whatever else they walk past. Cook normally carries the tray, but this time it's David who carries it despite the fact that his arm is hurting. Still, the hand on his neck supporting him makes it bearable, and he finds that he doesn't really care about carrying the tray as long as there is someone who can carry him. Figuratively speaking, of course, he thinks, and smiles weakly for the first time since before his incident with Colton and Hernandez.
"David," says Kris, smiling in surprise as they sit down at the table. David looks up and smiles, looking sideways at Tiemann, silently asking for permission to speak.
"You can speak with Kris and Andy whenever you want," says Tiemann, rolling his eyes. David wants to point out that the first rule kind of said he couldn't do that, but he is grateful nonetheless that he doesn't have to ask for permission whenever he wants to chat with his friends. He looks at Tiemann curiously, silently wondering if the same goes with the other inmate who is now his protector in here.
"So, you gave him the no speaking rule?" asks Andy Skib, raising one eyebrow, looking none too pleased about that. Tiemann scowls and starts to eat, pointedly ignoring the question. Andy Skib isn't done yet though, because he continues soon after, saying, "And how will he tell you that he needs something if you have him be quiet around you?"
David looks shyly at Tiemann. He had wondered the same thing, and he hopes that he will get an answer.
"Fucking hell," swears Tiemann angrily, and David winces as the profanity. "Fine," David watches as he looks at Andy Skib, eyes narrowing into tiny slits before turning his gaze to David who quickly looks away. "You can ask questions or whatever, and you can talk with Kris and Andy all you fucking want, just don't bore me with long tales of your life and such if I don't tell you to."
David swallows, the non-existing lump in his throat seeming to get a bit smaller. "Thank you," he says quietly, smiling gently.
"So?" asks Kris, grinning. David looks at Kris, confused, not understanding the other inmate's question at all. "What are you going to do?" clarifies Kris, looking briefly at Tiemann before looking at David again.
"Oh, um," he says, picking up his carton of milk and takes a big sip of it. His tongue darts out to lick away all the traces of the milk, trying to prolong it for as long as he can. "I don't know."
Andy Skib shoots him a look, and David can see it in his cellmate's eyes before it actually happens. "Johns offered David to transfer cells until Cook returns."
Tiemann turns slowly, and David looks at his food, praying that this is all just a bad dream. Tiemann's hand squeezes his neck, not painfully, but David can definitely feel the strong fingers digging into his skin.
"David?"
That just made it a lot worse. Tiemann doesn't sound angry or, well, something. He just sounds disappointed, which is ten times worse. He never liked it when his mom chided him in that tone, and he definitely doesn't like it now from the inmate next to him either.
"You told me not to speak," he tries, though fully knows that it's pathetic to use that excuse. Truth is that he isn't sure about what he wants to do yet, so it was easier to just not say anything at all.
"David," interrupts Kris, and David blushes and sighs.
"You're moving into my cell after dinner." Tiemann continues to eat and David takes another drink from his milk carton. "And we need to put my mark on you now." David drops the carton - drops of white liquid splashing everywhere - hand instinctively going up to touch the spot on his neck where Cook's mark used to be but no longer is because it has faded away.
"Don't worry, I'll mark you somewhere else," is all Tiemann says, and David doesn't know if he likes the sound of that or not.
~
Tiemann watches as he hangs up the picture of his siblings, and David tries to ignore his new cellmate as much as possible, which really is quite impossible. Tiemann is big-like way taller than David-and has a large frame. His tattooed fingers are curled around the bars above the door opening, and he sort of hangs there, body slack and head resting on one bent arm.
"About time," he says, and David looks up briefly at the red-haired inmate before he looks back at the picture of his siblings again. He had been hesitating to hang it up for a couple of weeks now, in case Cook returned, but it's been almost a month since Cook got thrown in dissociation. David has kind of given up hoping that he will see the other man again, even if the others keep on telling him that it's just a matter of time before Cook will be back with them.
"Have you heard -"
"No," interrupts Tiemann, answering the question before David has even asked it. Possibly because it's the same question that he asks every day, but still. It annoys him a bit that he doesn't even get a chance to finish speaking. However, Tiemann is not someone you complain about, at least not if you prefer to, like, actually live.
David glances at his hands, knuckles bruised and aching whenever he tries to flex them, but it's nothing compared to the bruise he has on the side of his face. He's embarrassed about it, not because he managed to get himself hurt, but because he had managed to break down in front of like every single inmate in here, which had prompted Tiemann to punish him right in the middle of the cafeteria. A backhand blow against his face had shut him up, and thankfully it had only been one. Still, this has made David a bit more wary of Tiemann than he was before.
Tiemann steps into the cell, momentarily making the cell darker as he steps in front of the light that comes from the hall. David looks up, eyes wide and wary.
"It suits you," Tiemann says, voice low and rough as he reaches out to run his fingers over the bruise. David shivers, trying not to move away from the touch. Tiemann cups his cheek, gently carding his fingers through David's dark hair with his other hand, and David can't help but close his eyes.
"Too bad Cook will return, because I could definitely get used to this," Tiemann confesses and David's eyes fly open. They lock eyes, David's hazel ones catching Tiemann's piercing blue eyes. The other inmate smirks, "Relax pet. Cook will be back soon."
David does relax a bit, though he doesn't close his eyes again. Tiemann's fingers continue to run through his hair, occasionally letting the nails scrape against his scalp. It doesn't hurt, in fact, it's rather pleasant and it makes David's head tingle with anticipation. When the red-haired inmate does something like this, gets all affectionate, then it usually means that he wants something. David looks down, and proceeds to blush, because correctly enough, Tiemann definitely wants something.
"Want me to hang a sheet?" Tiemann offers, and David nods. He's gotten used to no privacy in here, but still, he finds it embarrassing when Tiemann forces him to his knees. Heck, he even found it embarrassing when it was Cook who did it, and they were kind of more than just… well, whatever it is that Tiemann and he are to each other.
Tiemann wastes no time in hanging the sheet, and David glances at the small opening that still allows the inmates to look in. However, he doesn't mention it and instead drops to his knees obediently like the prison punk that he has become. His throat hurts already from last time he did it, but he appreciates the fact that it never gets any more intimate that this. Tiemann had promised him on the first night in the cell that he would never demand anything else but hand- and blowjobs, and so far, the other inmate has kept his word.
"That's it," grunts Tiemann as he pries David's lips apart and then pushes in. The head is large, and David's eyes water slightly. Not because he's scared, because he has sort of gotten past that point when it comes to blowjobs, but rather because Tiemann is so big that it's difficult to breathe properly. "Fuck," grunts Tiemann, and snaps his hips, hands grabbing the sides of David's face to keep him still.
David places his hands on the other inmate's hips and pushes away, taking a deep breath before spitting into his left hand. Then he opens his mouth again, swallowing as much as he can and uses his left hand to stimulate what he can't. It takes a couple of minutes, and he knows that Tiemann is close when the other man twists his fingers around David's dark strands of hair and pulls harshly, forcing him closer.
He gags, trying desperately to breathe and then sighs as the tattooed man lets go of his hair and pushes him back on his heels. The spurts of semen land on his tongue, and David keeps it in his mouth for a few seconds before getting up and walking over to the small sink to spit it out. Tiemann groans and sits down on the bed, pants still around his ankles. David looks over his shoulder before leaning down to take a few gulps of the water to clean his mouth.
"Fuck," Tiemann wheezes, and though David shouldn't, he still feels a burst of pride for making someone like Tiemann react like that.
"Why, um," he starts to say, and then stops, because honestly, he isn't exactly sure how to formulate the question properly.
"Yes?"
"I mean, why haven't you chosen a, um, you know, um, someone like me?" he finally says, leaning against the wall next to the sink. His knees are aching, but right now he prefers to keep some distances from his cellmate, even if it means that he has to stand up.
"None of your business," Tiemann sneers, and reaches down to pull his pants up. David watches and blushes a darker shade of red than before when he realizes that Tiemann totally saw him looking. Tiemann merely raises an eyebrow, his expression otherwise unreadable.
"I just mean because you're, um," he tries, but Tiemann looks sharply at him, and David swallows his last words.
"I'm what?" the other man asks, getting up from the bed.
"Um, you're nice and…"
"I'm not nice, Archuleta. I'm a murderer and I like to hurt people. In fact, if you didn't belong to Cook I'd make sure that your face was covered in bruises all the fucking goddamn time." Tiemann breathes harshly, his face getting red as he towers over David who presses himself as close to the wall as possible.
"No," David says, kind of stubbornly, because he feels like he has to make a point.
Tiemann slams his hand against the wall, making David jump like a scared animal. "Are you fucking calling me a liar?" It's said in a lower whisper, voice dangerous and full of promises of pain.
"Y-yes," he stammers, paling slightly. "You're looking after me, even though you totally don't have to. And um, you treat me okay and even though you won't admit it, you worry about people. Like Andy Skib and Kris and Cook and even me, I think."
"That doesn't make me a nice person," Tiemann says, voice just as low as before though no longer quite as menacing, and David swears he can hear a bit of pain behind the words.
"In here," he says, and smiles awkwardly, "in here that kind of makes you a really nice person, in case you hadn't noticed."
Tiemann laughs at that, a hoarse hollow laugh that escapes his thin lips, though the amusement doesn't reach the other inmate's eyes. David swallows, and nods to emphasize his point.
Tiemann steps back and rips the sheet furiously away from the bar and throws it on David's bed before storming out of the cell without looking back. David forgets momentarily how to breathe, and it's not until Kris waves a hand in front of his face, looking incredibly worried, that he remembers to inhale.
"David?" Kris asks, eyes searching David's face for any indication of… well, something. David is not sure what Kris is looking for, but he makes himself smile, though it's a bit strained and not as convincing that he had hoped it would be. "I saw Neal walking out, looking angry, so I thought it was best to come check if you were alright."
David understands now what Kris was looking for before, and he waves his hand dismissively in the air, trying to silently tell Kris that Tiemann didn't hurt him. But then he frowns, because maybe, maybe he hurt Tiemann? Not physically, because he could never ever do that as Tiemann is like twice his size and powerful and like strong, but emotionally, because without even thinking about it, he touched a sore spot. Kind of like a bruise, though not visible to the eye. He reaches up to touch the bruise on his own face, wincing even though the worst of the pain is already over. Now it's just a dull ache, and it's only when he touches it that he even remembers that it's there.
~
They are sitting in the TV room - Andy Skib and Kris sharing a chair, David on the floor between Tiemann's spread legs, and three other inmates occupying the couch - when Johns walks over to them. David looks away from the TV, heart in his throat as he waits for Johns to tell them what's going on. Johns nods - a tiny, almost nonexistent nod - and David feels like he can't breathe properly.
"Tomorrow," says Johns, mouth quirking faintly. "Just got the word. Cook will be let out tomorrow," he tells them, and David accidentally lets out a surprised gasp, because honestly, a part of him kind of hadn't expected to ever see Cook again, afraid that the warden would have him locked up forever. It's silly, he knows, because that would be illegal and the warden actually seems pretty fair if not a bit strong headed, but still.
"Get lost," sneers Tiemann, glaring at the three other inmates. David watches as they get up - somewhat reluctantly, if their annoyed mumbles are anything to go by - and leave the room.
"That's good news," says Kris, and David can't help but just stare at Johns, mouth a little agape as he's trying to process the fact that he will see Cook again, tomorrow. Cook. He glances worriedly back over his shoulder at Tiemann who has leaned forward in his seat, fingers now running through David's hair almost possessively. "Right, David?" asks Kris, when David still hasn't said anything.
"Um," he utters, suddenly unsure if it even is a good thing. He can't count the number of times he's wished for Cook to come back - and he wants Cook, not Tiemann - but Tiemann's behavior seems irrational and it pains him to leave the tattooed inmate without anyone. He knows that Tiemann would not be alone - because they will all still be there, and most of them will be here still for a year at least - but not being alone does not equal not being lonely, which is an entirely different thing and a horrible feeling.
Tiemann's fingers leave his hair and trail down his neck, softly touching David's skin. Then a big, strong hand squeezes his shoulder in a reassuring way, and he can't help but smile.
"It's brilliant news," he finally stammers out, and he sees Kris exhale in relief, almost as if he had anticipated David to say something else.
"Good," says Tiemann, and with a final pat on David's head, gets up from the chair and motions for Johns to follow him to the corner of the room. David tilts his head and looks confused at Andy Skib, but Andy Skib just shrugs as if saying that he has no idea what the guard and inmate are talking about in hushed voices.
"You sure?" they hear Johns say, and Tiemann nods. David gets up from the floor, hands idly brushing the back of his pants from whatever dust and whatnot that he may have been sitting on.
Tiemann looks pointedly at him and raises his hand, giving David the universal stop sign. David's arms cross over his chest, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he waits for the red-haired inmate to return.
"It's settled," says Tiemann when he walks back to the seating area of the room, looking at David for a couple of seconds before sitting back down in the chair from before.
"What is?" asks David, biting into his bottom lip nervously, quickly darting a look at Johns who shrugs.
"Johns will request for me to transfer out of the cell and move me in with Andy so that you and Cook can share." Tiemann sounds so indifferent about it, as if it doesn't bother him to leave the cell that he has been calling home for the last couple of years. His heart quite possibly jumps at the thought of sharing with Cook, nervous and excited at the same time. But one look at Tiemann makes all the excitement go away.
"No," he blurts, which earns him a raised eyebrow from his protector. "I don't want to chase you out of your own cell… I mean, it's your cell and I should be the one to move. I'll move back to my old cell, Cook will understand."
"You'll fucking do as you're told, punk," snarls Tiemann, eyes turning considerably darker as he glares angrily at David.
"But -" he starts to say, however, he is quickly interrupted by Tiemann.
"Until Cook returns, you belong to me and you'll fucking do as you're told or Cook will get back to a punk covered in fucking huge bruises all over, you got that?"
He bows his head, his shoulders hunching over as he tries to fight the desire to take a step back. He manages to stand still, but he can't stop from flinching when he sees Tiemann raise a hand out of the corner of his eye.
"Neal," says Andy Skib, steeping forward, finally voicing his thoughts on all of this. "I think it's admirable of you to offer to move - and Cook would probably be pleased to share a cell with -"Andy Skib look at him, eyes traveling up his body, "- with David here, but do you really think it's wise to move cells? It would cause an awful lot of attention from the other inmates, don't you think? And we don't really need that."
Andy Skib narrows his eyes, as if silently telling Tiemann something, and David looks at Kris for some kind of guidance as to what he's missing. Kris, however, looks just as confused, maybe even more than David feels. So whatever Andy Skib is talking about, Kris clearly hasn't been let in on the secret. The two punks share a confused look, before returning their attention to their protectors.
David has always felt weird about calling Tiemann - or Cook for that matter - his protector, but in here, that's kind of their roles. It's not the official prison term for it though, or so he has learned during his time in here. There are other terms for what they are, terms that make David cringe just thinking about them. The mere thought of referring to Cook as his 'daddy' makes him feel a bit sick, so he sticks to his own version of the term.
"Yes or no?" asks Johns, leaning against the doorframe, hands buried deep in his pockets as he looks disinterestedly at them. "I need to know if I have to fill out the request form. Fuck it; it's not even sure that the request will go through, so maybe you guys are worrying for nothing."
"Yes," says Tiemann the same time that Andy Skib says, "No."
"My cell, my decision," sneers Tiemann, starting to get red in the face.
"Yeah, well, you're talking about moving into my cell, so that also makes it my decision."
"Cook will want to-"
"Cook will want whatever is best for all of us, you know that," finishes Andy Skib, voice low and soft.
"David, what do you want?" asks Johns, voice loud and clear, interrupting the two friends. They all look at him, and David swallows nervously, not sure what the correct answer should be. He chances a glance at Tiemann and quickly averts his eyes at the look he gets - Tiemann looks quite positively murderous, almost as if he's daring David to go against him.
"Um," he says, ever so eloquently, but doesn't offer more to the conversation. He knows that regardless of what they might ask him, what he says has little value to whatever the outcome will be. Ultimately, Tiemann is the one who has to make the decision. He knows it and he's fairly sure that Kris and even Andy Skib know it. That's just the way it is, and a small part of him is glad that it is exactly that way. Less chance of choosing the wrong thing and being held responsible, he thinks, and shrugs.
"We'll do as I say. Make it happen, Johns," voices Tiemann, glaring at all them - eyes searching each of their faces one at a time, almost as if he's daring one of them to say something. None of them do, and David even sees Andy Skib look away.
"Alright, if you say so mate," drawls Johns, words coated thick and heavy with his Australian accent, "but like I said before, not even sure the request will go through. Guess it depends on the warden."
David sits down on the couch, back straightened and hands resting on his knees. His head though, is bowed, eyes lowered to the floor and curiously observing his sneakers as though they hold great knowledge. They used to be this brilliant white color, like so white that it almost hurt the eyes to look at them, but now… now the color is just dull, spots of dirt all over them. Dirty, he thinks, and sighs.
~
It is late afternoon and most of the inmates' are outside in the yard, enjoying the fresh air before dinner. David though - along with Tiemann - is waiting in the cell. He glances around, shivering faintly despite the fact that he is not cold. Tiemann glances at him every now and then, and the curious, if not slightly distant look, makes him want to just crawl into a hole and hide there forever.
It's weird, because he kind of thought they had managed to get along these last couple of long weeks, but now that Cook's return is just around the corner, Tiemann seems quite possibly even more resentful towards David than ever.
He rubs his palms nervously against his pants, his hands all sweaty against the fabric. Cook will come back any minute now and he doesn't quite know how he is supposed to respond to the older inmate when they do see each other again. He loves Cook, no doubt about that, but a small part of him is afraid that Cook hates him for everything that has happened. If it hadn't been for David, the thing with Colton and Hernandez would never have happened, and Cook would never have had to save him by turning the two other inmates into cripples and thus prolonging his sentence (if Johns' information is anything to go by).
"Incoming," says Tiemann, and steps out of the cell - the cell that now belongs to David and Cook, Tiemann's stuff already moved into David's old cell that he used to share with Andy Skib. "You be a good punk now and fucking make him happy, got it?" scoffs Tiemann with a quick glance over his shoulder at David.
"Yes," he says. It bothers him that Tiemann still calls him a punk - because he absolutely loathes the term and everything it stands for - but he knows there is nothing he can do about it. "Promise," he whispers, more to himself than Tiemann who is no longer paying attention to him but rather welcoming Cook back to the cellblock.
"Fuck man, I've missed you," says Cook, grinning widely. David stares from the shadows of the cell as the two inmates hug and clap each other on the back, his heart skipping a beat when he hears Cook's voice.
"Welcome back to the H," says Tiemann, voice so different than before. The tattooed inmate sounds, if not cheerful, then content to have his friend back.
"It's good to be home," says Cook, and David steps out of the shadows and lingers at the opening of the cell, slender fingers curled around one of the steel bars, eyes darting curiously from one inmate to the other. Cook looks over Tiemann shoulder and sees him, and David smiles apprehensively, ignoring the way that something flutters about in chest.
"And what a lovely homecoming gift," says Cook, voice low and almost foreign to David's ears. A shiver runs down his spine, and he can't help but shudder with want. He hadn't anticipated that to happen, but judging from the way Cook looks at him; eyes almost devouring him whole, he thinks Cook is pleased with his reaction.
"And," interrupts Tiemann quickly, breaking the spell and forcing Cook to look away from David, "it's been arranged that you'll share cell from now on with the boy."
Cook's head turns so fast that David can almost hear the snap of the neck. David's eyes follow Cook's gaze and he sees Johns standing not that far away, grinning smugly.
"Yeah?" asks Cook, sounding like he can't believe it.
"But of course," says Johns, sounding pleased with himself. David knows that the request almost didn't go through, but apparently Johns had managed to fix that somehow.
"Fuck," breathes Cook, and looks back at David. David blushes under the eyes of his boyfriend.
"And what about you?" asks Cook, the question directed at Tiemann though he remains looking at David, mouth quirking noticeably, Cook's mind no doubt filled with dirty ideas. David bows his head, a hand reaching up to scratch the back of his neck shyly.
"I'm sharing with Andy now."
"Yeah?" asks Cook, and finally looks at Tiemann. "And you are sure that's okay with you? I mean, I don't want to run you out of your own cell."
"Do you see me running?" asks Tiemann, and David doesn't have to see Tiemann's face to know that one eyebrow is without doubt raised. "I offered to do this."
"Thanks man," says Cook, and reaches up to touch the back of the red-haired inmate's neck, fingers curling around the strands of hair affectionately before giving a gentle tug. "I mean it, thank you."
"Now go be with your boy. I'll be out in the yard with Andy and Kris. See you at dinner."
Then it's just the two of them; David standing inside the cell, Cook standing just outside it.
"Hi," he whispers, wincing at his greeting. It sounds so juvenile, and he wishes he could have said something cool or maybe even flirty. Cook would have appreciated a flirty greeting. Except, um, he totally isn't good at flirting.
Cook takes a step closer, arms grabbing onto the bars above the opening as he just looks at David, a smirk gracing his lips. They are standing so close now that David can feel Cook's breath on his face, warm and gentle against his skin as Cook inhales and exhales. David looks at Cook's lips, his tongue darting out to wet his lips that have suddenly gone dry. Cook groans, and David decides to be brave and takes a step towards his boyfriend until they are standing chest against chest, not even an inch of space between them.
"I've missed you," he whispers, a hand reaching out to touch Cook's cheek, the beard feeling scratchy and itchy against his palm. He moves his hand, nails scraping against the pale skin as he trails his fingers down along the neck, silently basking in the heat radiating from his boyfriend.
Cook's groan turns deeper, quieter, and David's breath quickens. They are still standing out in the open, visible to all inmates who might look their way. He blushes, eyes quickly looking to see if anyone is looking at them, but Cook's hand reaches up to grab his chin, forcing David to only look at him. David looks at Cook, his eyes wide and innocent. Then the rough, calloused hand lets go of his chin and moves down his neck, rubbing against his skin right where the mark used to be. The mark, which is long gone by now, but which David can still feel deep within his soul.
Cook's mark.
"First," whispers Cook, smirking as he leans down to catch David's earlobe between his teeth, tugging lightly at the flesh. "First I'm going to fuck you, but then, after, I'll leave my mark all over your body so everyone can see who you belong to."
"Gosh," he murmurs, blushing notably as his back arches and his chest presses against Cook's arm.
"Hang a sheet, pet, if you don't want anyone to see," instructs Cook, smirking as he detangles himself from David. David nods and quickly pulls down the sheet from the top bunk - from Cook's bed, or David's, depending on which of the bunks Cook wants now that he's back - and quickly hangs it. He's not as good or fast as Cook, but he tries his best and manages to get it to stay stuck.
"So gorgeous," whispers Cook, coming up to stand behind him, nose nuzzling against his neck, long, pale arms wrapping around his chest. "You have no idea how many times I've jerked off to the memory of you while I was in dissociation. Fuck. Get on your knees and suck me," orders Cook, and David waits until the hold on his chest loosens so he can turn.
He can't help but lean forward and place a small kiss on the corner of Cook's mouth. It's just a small, chaste kiss, but it makes Cook pant harshly against him, chest heaving fast as he breathes. "David," mumbles Cook, and presses against David's shoulder with his palms, slowly but surely forcing David down until his knees hit the floor.
David pulls the pants down as Cook raises the shirt up under the pits of his arms, displaying his stomach. David watches as Cook's penis juts and raises until it is laying flat against Cook's pale belly, taut and erect, the head slightly red and already weeping. With a final glance at Cook - who in response nods to urge him forward - David leans closer and with the guidance of his hand bring the penis to his open mouth.
He has still not gotten used to giving blowjobs, and the corner of his eyes already turn a bit wet from unshed tears as he takes in the penis further, his lips closing around the head. Usually Cook thrusts and forces himself further in than David can manage, but this time it's different - perhaps because they have been apart for so many weeks, he thinks - because this time, Cook just gently tugs at David's hair, fingers running through the dark short strands over and over as he allows David to decide the pace. It's both exhilarating and confusing at the same time.
Cook likes to be in control - likes to make David feel him, he once told David - but this time it's like David is the one in charge. David sucks harder, lips curling around the heated flesh, tongue pressing against the vein on the underside of the penis. He wants to please Cook, wants Cook to be this gentle every time - and he is sure, that if he just manages to show Cook that he can be good without pressure or force, then this will not be a onetime thing.
Cook's hips shove a bit, and just as David thinks that this is over and Cook will be back in charge, gentle fingers run through his hair, tips of slender digits massaging his scalp almost apologetically. He relaxes his jaw and uses his free hand to hold Cook's hips in place. That way he'll be able to sense it the next time Cook reflexively presses forward again.
"David," murmurs Cook from above him, and David looks up through his eyelashes, watching in amazement as Cook returns the stare, eyes dark and filled with desire. He pops the penis out of his mouth and licks a long stripe up the underside of the penis, making sure to keep the eye contact. Cook groans, voice low and with an almost animalistic edge to it, and David blushes deeply as he feels the front of his own pants tightening somewhat.
"I want to fuck you," hisses Cook, and David moves his hand up and down the penis as he nods, fist clenching around Cook a couple of times, nostrils flaring as his mind catches up with the situation. They have been together before, though it was only a couple of times, and right now it seems like ages ago.
"Um," he says, and reaches up to twist his fingers around Cook's shirt to hoist himself up from the floor. Because Cook had allowed him some control before, David decides to just follow his gut instincts and do as he wants, which is kissing Cook. Cook has amazingly talented lips, and the velvet tongue pressing against David's own tongue feels so good, gosh.
"Bed," whispers Cook, and David nods twice, his heart in his throat. Normally Cook guides him to lie on his stomach, but this time David wants to be able to see Cook, so he steps back until the back of his head touches the top bunk and his calves rests against the lower bunk. And then he sits down, his hand still twisted around the fabric of Cook's shirt, moving back as he brings Cook down on top of him.
"No, like this," he says, though it comes out as desperate plea, when Cook tries to make him turn. Cook looks at him for the longest time, just watching David until David finally has to turn his head away, the blush returning to his cheeks. Then Cook grabs his chin and turns his head, smiling softly before leaning down to press their lips together in a tender kiss and David smiles against the lips, his arms going around Cook's neck to hold on tight (and never let go again).
~
continue
masterpost | part i | part ii | part iii | part iv | part v | part vi
part four
It is already the last day of January, and David can hardly understand how time seems to have gone by so quickly after Christmas. As he walks down the corridor, heading towards the cells, his mind wanders to what happened between him, Cook, and Tiemann on Christmas morning. It had been repeated on New Years Eve day, well sort of anyway. New Years Eve day had actually mostly been him and Cook, but Tiemann had been sitting next to them and watched as David made Cook come (twice).
He turns a corner, blushing slightly as the memories seem to take over him completely. Tiemann hadn't said a word the second time, but instead just reached out a large hand and petted his hair, encouraging him to take Cook deeper into his mouth, and David had done his best to please both men by opening his mouth wider and trying to relaxing his throat. Even now, a month later, he still sometimes can feel the hand in his hair and the end of Cook's penis touching the back of his throat, and maybe he doesn't hate it as much as he thinks he ought to.
The other inmates are out in the yard, and David was supposed to have been there too. But moments before they were allowed outside, Yeager had come and told him that he had a visitor. The visitor had turned out to be none other than Andrew Cook, Cook's younger brother. They hadn't said much at first, David shifting uncomfortable in the seat, but then Andrew had started to tell him all these crazy stories about Cook as a child and David had listened and smiled and giggled for almost an hour before Andrew had to leave again. He never did get why Andrew wanted to see him, of all people, but he appreciated it still. In fact, it made his relationship with Cook seem a bit more real. As he walks towards the door leading to the outside, he silently promises himself that next time his mom comes to see him, he will tell her all about Cook.
"Hey there," says a voice behind him, and David turns around to see Colton and Hernandez standing awfully close to him. He picks up his pace, walking determinedly towards the door, eager to get outside to Cook again. "What's the rush?" asks Colton and matches his pace, a pale arm going around his shoulder. David tries to shake it off, but pointy nails bite into his shoulder.
"Cook will get mad," he tries, because really, that's the best ammunition he's got right now. Cook has promised to protect him in here, and so far the whole protection thing has gone really well. No one has dared to touch him, afraid to go against Cook and ultimately Tiemann too. So he can't help but wonder why the heck Colton and Hernandez seem to no longer care about all of this.
Colton stops him, and David reluctantly stops walking, eyes fixed on the door, "Yeah, well," says Colton, smirking and shrugging casually as if he doesn't care one bit about Cook's wrath. "Your daddy ain't here right now, and I doubt you'll even be able to tell him who made you dance on a blacktop once we're finished with you."
Right, so David has no idea what dancing on a blacktop even means, but Colton must be more stupid than he had originally thought if he seriously expects David not to tell Cook about this. Not that he will need to tell Cook much, because Cook always seems to know stuff in here about everyone.
"I will tell Cook," he threatens in his meanest voice, though he's fairly sure that it doesn't sound mean at all, especially not when his voice cracks a bit, making him instead sound like a scared child. When Hernandez starts to laugh, he knows that it hadn't helped at all.
David opens his mouth, prepared to scream his lungs out when someone hits him on the back of his head. Tiny dots of black appear before his eyes, and it suddenly seems difficult to concentrate.
Next time he opens his eyes, he is in the infamous limbo room. Cook had showed him the limbo room one afternoon a couple of months ago, and David has never been back there since then. Until now, anyway. The limbo room is actually part of the room next to the showers. It's in a blind spot though, when it comes to the cameras, which makes it ideal for using it as a punishment room.
David shivers, his mind finally catching up with him as he stands there with his back to the wall and two smirking faces in front of him. Colton reaches out and David winces and tries to move his head. Pain erupts from the spot on the back of his head where he had been hit before, and all he manages to do is whimper softly.
"When we're done with you, not even the likes of Cook will want you," hisses Colton. All David can focus on is how pale Colton's skin is, and how very nonexistent the eyelashes seem to be. Hernandez is the complete opposite of Colton. His skin is slightly dark, as if sun-kissed, and instead of the white hair Hernandez' hair is black. Like David's.
And then he screams; his voice hoarse and dry and his throat hurt a bit. Hernandez puts a hand over his mouth and David instinctively bites it, hard, teeth sinking into the skin, leaving visible marks. Hernandez swears loudly and pulls back, back-handing David across the mouth. It hurts, a lot, and tears start to prickle at the corner of his eyes, but he doesn't give up. He starts to push and shove, kicks with his legs the best that he can, pleased when his foot connects with something.
"Let him scream," snarls Colton. "No one can hear him in here anyway."
David continues to scream, Cook's name leaving his lips. When no one comes to his rescue, he screams for Tiemann too, and Andy Skib and Kris. But mostly, he just screams for Cook.
Hernandez punches him in the stomach, and David has to stop screaming as all the air is knocked out of him. He doubles over, and the tears that threatened to spill before now fall freely. There is another punch against his stomach, and a third and a fourth.
He cries now, ashamed for not being able to hold his tears back and for not being able to get away.
"I hate you," hisses Colton and cuffs him hard on his ear, his head twisting with the blow. "You are pathetic."
And David kind of does feel pathetic right now. Still, he refuses to go down without a fight and uses what strength he has left to lunge out at his two attackers. He manages to surprise them a bit, because they both move back, which gives him room to run.
The black spots dance in front of his eyes, making it difficult to orientate himself, but he sees the opening coming closer and closer. He just needs to get out of here and into a room with cameras, and then he will be safe.
Fingers curl in his hair, holding onto the dark strands tightly, forcing him backwards. He loses his balance and falls back, head slamming harshly down into the cement floor. He cries out and tries to grab onto the hand still in his hair, his nails scraping over skin in an attempt to separate himself with the inmate holding him. He looks up, eyes wildly seeking the person and sees that it is Colton.
"Let me go," he pleads, trying desperately to remove the hand. Colton just laughs for a couple of seconds, then curses and snarls at him when David's nails seem to break the skin on the wrist.
"Don't just stand there," hisses Colton over his shoulder and David sees Hernandez through his teary eyes standing a bit away from them. The third inmate doesn't look happy though, and David notices him look at the opening.
"Please, Hernandez," he tries. Hernandez looks away, so David tries again, "Cook will hurt you for this."
He knows deep down that threatening your attackers might not be the smartest move, but he feels like he has to at least try. Besides, it's true. Cook will hurt them, just like he hurt that Garrett kid who accidentally told the wrong inmates that he thought Cook had gone soft. Garrett had paid for it, three weeks in the hospital wing with broken ribs and a broken leg. Everyone knew that it was Cook who had done it, even though Cook had managed to escape solitary confinement. Thanks to Johns who had managed to handle the situation.
"Remember what he did to Garrett?" he tries, whimpering and crying out as Colton manages to kick him in the ribs while still holding on to his hair.
"Shut your fucking mouth," yells Colton, and David sees Hernandez take a step closer to them.
"Colton, man, mayb-" starts Hernandez, but is quickly cut off by Colton.
"Grow a fucking pair, Hernandez! We fucking talked about this."
Hernandez nods absently, and David prays that the inmate will somehow put a stop to all of this. Unfortunately, David's prayer is not heard, because Hernandez steps over and replaces Colton's hold on his hair.
"Hernan-" he tries, tears blurring his sight. Colton kicks him viciously in the side, and suddenly David can no longer breathe properly. Everything hurts and he lies there, gasping for air. A kick to his head is followed quickly, and David can hear a gleeful laugh filling the room, the echo bouncing off of the plain white walls, surrounding him.
"Cook," he whispers, blood covering his teeth. Another kick to his face, abrupt pain taking over as soon as the foot is gone again, blood gushing from his nose.
He feels a hand painfully grabbing him between the legs, squeezing hard.
"No," he hisses, swallowing some of the blood, and coughs as he tries to squirm away. "No," he says again, frantically trying to kick with his own legs but to no avail. All he hits is the empty air, the heels of his shoes clashing down into the cemented floor tiredly.
He can no longer see properly; blood and tears blurring his eyesight, stomach aching with pain.
"What the fuck!"
David turns to the sound of the voice, immediately recognizing it. Cook. He hears rather than sees someone fighting. A slap against the wall, shoes moving harshly and feet being dragged across the floor. He tries to wipe his eyes, and manages to succeed just a bit. He watches as Cook kicks Colton, watches as Colton curls up on the floor not that far away from David, watches as Hernandez tries to make a run for it but Tiemann grabs him by the collar of his shirt and hits him square on the jaw. He watches until he can no longer watch anymore; until all he can focus on is trying to breathe.
Tender hands hover over his face, lightly touching his cheeks every now and then, soft, caring murmurs whispered into his ear, "David, you're going to be alright." It's Kris. He blinks, trying to focus. He sees Kris and Andy Skib kneeling at his side and behind them Tiemann, as he watches Cook kick and punch Colton and Hernandez, showing them no mercy. He shudders, tired and in pain.
"Cook," he calls meekly, voice barely audible against the loud sounds of pained groans. Tiemann puts a hand on Cook's shoulder, and David watches as Cook turns, face red from anger.
"David," is all Tiemann says. Or at least that's what David thinks the tattooed man says. There is this weird ringing sound that fills the room.
Cook walks over fast and Kris and Andy Skib barely have time to move away before Cook drops to his knees and cradles David's face between his bloodied hands. David can't decide if the tears he sees are his own and are clouding his sight or if Cook really is crying.
"Don't worry," says Cook, voice breaking as he speaks, "they won't hurt you again."
Johns is the first guard on the scene and David observes from his spot on the floor as Johns' eyes go wide and mouth falls open. Hands reach up and pulls at the hair, making it stand in weird directions.
"Cook, for fucks sake!" yells Johns, waving his arms around dramatically. "What the fuck have you done?"
Cook doesn't answer, and David doesn't think it sounds like a question either. He looks at Cook, tries to smile as his boyfriend uses his thumb to wipe away some of the blood that has gathered at the corner of his mouth. His tongue darts out and licks at his lips that have gone dry. He can taste the blood, and the tip of his tongue touches Cook's thumb.
"I can't bloody hell save you from this one. I barely managed to fix it for you last time, mate."
Soon, the room is swamped with guards, Yeager and Luke Menard standing behind Johns, both lifting their truncheons up so everyone can see that they have them and that they are willing to use them.
"Cook, you're going in solitary confinement until further notice," says Yeager, stepping forward.
David looks at Cook, tries to beg for him to not leave him, but all that comes out is a choked groan.
"Neal. Look after him until I return. Don't let him leave your sight. You're going to protect him now," is all Cook says before he, with one final look at David, gets up and moves over to Johns. Johns gives Cook a sad look and pulls out his handcuffs from his belt, and Cook turns without a word and presents his hands at his back.
"David, I'll be back," promises Cook before Yeager and Johns take him away.
Tiemann moves over to David's side, taking Cook's place and grabs David's hand tightly in his. Andy Skib and Kris stand not too far away, watching them. Kris has tears in his eyes, and David tries to tell him that everything will be okay again. He is not sure that he believes it himself, but Kris' mouth gives him a weak smile.
Colton and Hernandez lie silently on the floor in the other corner and David tries not to pay them any attention. Tiemann squeezes his hand and David forces himself to return the squeeze even though it hurts. They wait for the medic team to come get them.
~
David stays in the infirmary for almost ten full days before the doctor tells him that he can no longer stay there. Hernandez is still there when he leaves, though he was placed in a separate room so that they didn't see each other. Colton had been transferred to another hospital on the first day due to complications. David is still in pain, though it's easier to walk around now with the meds that he has been given. Johns is the one who follows him back to the cells. The Australian guard makes these weird and awkward jokes about nothing at all, and David pretends that the jokes are funny and laughs politely, his face hurting every time he tries to smile.
They stop before they enter the cellblock, and David looks expectantly up at Johns. No one has told him much about Cook other than that he's still in dissociation.
Johns sighs and starts talking before David gets a chance to ask. "Cook will be there for a long time. He really hurt Hernandez and Colton and the warden doesn't like it when inmates fight. I made sure that he knew Cook did it to save you, but honestly, the warden has never been much of a Cook fan so chances are that he will be there for a couple of months."
David's eyes go wide as he looks at Johns. Months! He can hardly breathe at the thought of not seeing Cook for this long, and he briefly wonders what will become of him when Johns continues. "I've arranged it so that you can move into Tiemann's cell if you want until Cook returns. Or you can stay with Skib. It's up to you. That was the best I could do."
David nods; his eyes on the floor as he cradles his arm close to his chest.
"Archuleta, mate," says Johns, voice soft and caring. Johns hasn't called him by his last name since before he became Cook's boy. He nods again and looks up. "The choice is yours. If you want to stay with Skib, you can. And no one will think any less of you if you choose to move in with Tiemann until Cook returns."
He glances at the floor, unable to decide what to do. He tries to imagine what Cook will want him to do. Well, he kind of thinks that he knows what Cook will want him to do, but he is not so sure that he can actually do it.
"I don't know," he whispers, slightly anxious for not being able to make a decision. He feels like he is back to square one, and he can't stop thinking about his first day in here nearly half a year ago. Memories of how frightened and how overwhelmed by everything he had been come back to him.
"Think about it. I'll come after dinner and ask again." Johns pats him awkwardly on the shoulder and then continues to walk. David sees Kris standing outside his and Andy Skib's cell, smiling tentatively when David nears him.
Johns looks at the two of them, greets Kris and then leaves. David looks at his shoes, uncomfortable and achy all over. He shifts from one foot to another. Then he looks up and meets Kris' gaze which is kind of sad. He frowns, confused.
"Hey," says Kris quietly and David smiles softly in return.
"I'm glad to see that you are alright," says Kris. David looks at him, somewhat angry because he is definitely not alright and he can't understand why Kris can't see that.
"We all missed you."
They stand there in silence for a couple of long seconds, neither of them speaking.
"I've missed you guys too," he finally says and means it. He smiles softly and Kris smiles back, looking almost relieved.
"Come on, let's get you settled in again then," says Kris and grabs his elbow to help him into the tiny cell. Everything looks normal. His pictures are all still where they belong, he thinks, seeing them there.
"Johns said I could move in with Tiemann until Cook returns if I want," he blurts out quickly. He doesn't know why he feels the need to tell Kris this, but Kris doesn't look overly surprised. In fact, he nods as if he can totally see the logic in that. David is still uncertain, but he is glad that at least one of them seems to know what to do. "What do you think?" he asks finally.
"I can't decide for you David, but maybe it's a good thing. Tiemann… Neal, he cares for you and he wants what's best for you. Plus, Cook made him promise that he would look after you from now on and maybe that easiest to do if you guys share a cell."
David sits on his bunk, one hand reaching out to touch the sheets. He moves around until he lies on the bed, head placed firmly on the pillow as he glances up at the bunk above him.
"Not sure I want to leave this cell though. I mean, I've gotten used to Andy Skib." Kris laughs at this and David's cheeks flush a bit red from embarrassment. He rolls his eyes and looks at Kris who stands next to the bed, leaning up against the wall.
"Andy will miss you if you decide to leave. He won't tell you, but I know that he will. Still, if you feel safer when being with Neal, then you should do it."
David has never told Kris about his time with Cook and Tiemann on Christmas morning or New Years Eve day, but he is fairly sure that Kris knows anyway. Kris always seems to know stuff like this. Or maybe it was because for the entire month after it happened the last time, David couldn't stop blushing every time Cook smirked at him or Tiemann glared at him.
"I don't know," he says quietly, more to himself than to Kris. Because he feels so conflicted; it's like all his emotions are running wild inside and he can't seem to keep them under control no matter what he does.
"Hey," says Kris, placing a hand on his shoulder to make him listen. David, however, jumps in his seat and stares with wide eyes at Kris, his breathing irregular, as he tries to focus on the person in front of him. "Hey, David, relax, it's just me," says Kris quickly and moves away, hand falling from David's shoulder.
"I…" he says, and then lifts his hands up and buries his face in them. Now he feels stupid. Because he knew that Kris was there, knew that it was Kris' hand. He had just momentarily zoned out, too wrapped up in his own thoughts, and the hand had startled him. "Sorry, I'm sorry," he mumbles, still trying to steady his breathing. His heart feels like it might just force its way out of his chest judging by the way it's hammering away.
"Don't apologize," says Kris gently, and David smiles in gratitude. Honestly, he didn't mean to react that way. It was irrational and awkward and just not him. Well, that's not entirely true. He has never been good with people touching him, but ever since he got in here, he has gotten used to Cook's constant touches.
"Just, um," he says, though he doesn't finish the sentence. He doesn't know what he wants to say.
And he doubts that Kris understands what he means either, yet the southern inmate just smiles and says, "I won't."
Kris sits down on the bunk next to David, leaving enough space between them that could easily fit another person. He silently appreciates that Kris does this, and slowly but surely, his heartbeat seems to go back to normal again.
"Jug-up," says Kris. He has learned that the inmates call meal-time 'jug-up' in here. He doesn't really see the point of making up another word when you can straightforwardly just say the correct word, but Kris uses it and he has even heard Cook use it on several occasions.
David nods absentmindedly. The thought of walking into the cafeteria where everyone knows what has happened makes him feel nauseous. "I'm not hungry," he says, shrugging.
Kris stands and looks down at him, and David can see his friend is worried. David doesn't say anything and Kris doesn't ask him to reconsider. A few seconds later, David watches as Kris leave the cell, leaving David behind. He closes his eyes and doesn't do anything when tears start to burn behind the closed lids. He has no idea how long he sits there, but next time he opens his eyes, Tiemann is standing in the opening of the cell, looking at him, startling David.
"Oh my heck," he almost yells, hand going up to rest on the left side of his chest. His heart is hammering away again. "Um, you scared me," he adds when Tiemann merely crosses his arms across his chest and lifts an eyebrow.
"Why aren't you at dinner," asks Tiemann, tone of voice sounding indifferent. David dislikes it when he can't tell what mood Tiemann is in. It makes him feel awkward, self-conscious and kind of like he ought to apologize even though he has no idea why or if it's even necessary.
"Not hungry," he lies. Not that he is really hungry, not yet at least, but he knows that he probably will be in an hour or so.
"Yeah well, fuck that. You're going to dinner now, and I don't care if I have to drag you there myself." Tiemann uncrosses his arms again and pushes away from the frame of the opening, walking towards David who in return cowers closer to the wall.
"Fuck, David." Tiemann sounds angry, and David can't help but pull his legs closer to his body. He knows he is being stupid, because even though Tiemann probably could (and would) hurt him given the chance, he knows that the tattooed inmate in front of him has promised Cook to look after him. "Don't fucking move away from me. Shit, I'm not going to hurt you."
However, one thing is to know the facts, and another is to actually know them. The way David sees it, there's a difference between knowing and knowing. He knows that Tiemann won't hurt him, because there is no reason for him to do so nor has he even done anything to make David believe that it will happen. Deep down, however, David doesn't really know Tiemann that well. He doesn't know if Tiemann might just suddenly change his mind and hit him when he least expects it, because Cook has always been there for him to prevent something like that from happening.
"Listen, David," says Tiemann, voice suddenly low and soft. David looks up, confused and surprised at the same time. "You can't hide in here forever. You need food, otherwise you'll just end up wasting away and then Cook will be pissed when he gets out of dissociation because he cares so much about you."
David swallows a lump in his throat. His mouth opens and then closes, not sure what to say.
"I care too, you know," says Tiemann. David's eyes go wide, and Tiemann quickly clears his throat and adds, "And Kris and Andy care too. We all care."
"I know," he says, head bowed slightly. "And I care about you too." Inhale, exhale. "All of you," he corrects himself. "I'm just not sure if I'll be able to, you know, um, go out there and have people, um, stare at me and, um, stuff," he continues, practically stumbling over the words in the process. Just thinking about setting a foot back into the cafeteria makes his ribs ache and his arm hurt again.
"Yeah, well. I promised Cook to look after you, and that means that until he returns you are mine." David shivers at the possessiveness in Tiemann's voice. Though he figures that this is something Cook would make Tiemann promise, he only vaguely remembers what happened that day. Every time he tries to remember the details, all that he remembers if the excruciating pain and the feeling of being helpless.
"Get up," demands Tiemann, and David rises automatically from the bed without even thinking about it. He stares at the wall in front of him, surprised that he didn't even think twice about Tiemann's order. "Good," says Tiemann, sounding pleased. David turns his head and sees a small, faint smirk gracing Tiemann's lips.
They stand like that for a couple of seconds, David looking at Tiemann's mouth and Tiemann staring at him in return. Then a pale muscular arm reaches out, and David instinctively takes a step back, head moving away from the hand that looms in front of his face. His eyes widen as he looks tentatively up until he meets Tiemann's eyes. "What the fuck," says Tiemann, sounding a bit irritated.
"I'm sorry," he whispers, limbs completely frozen in shock.
"If anyone had seen that you'd be dead meat in seconds. They'd think that I, and Cook for God's sake, couldn't handle a mere punk like you." Tiemann doesn't just sound annoyed now, he sounds absolutely livid and David can't help but let out a small whimper in response.
"Stand the fuck still," hisses Tiemann and lifts his arm again, large hand reaching out for David's face. David nods, desperate to make it all okay again. As pathetic as it may sound, he knows that in order to survive in here, he needs someone to protect him, and if Cook is unable to do it, then he is glad that Tiemann has taken over the job.
"I just -"
Tiemann glares at him, making David stop talking immediately. "I'm not Cook. So here are some of my rules. Rule number one, no fucking talking unless spoken to. Number two, you do as I say when I say it, and finally number three, you don't walk around alone."
"Okay," he murmurs, barely recognizing his own voice as the word leaves his mouth. Tiemann looks surprised at him for a split second before pursing his lips shut and nodding curtly. David knows the rules are important, so he sees no reason to argue with them. He wonders briefly is he should tell Tiemann about Johns' offer, but Tiemann's first rule looms in the back of his mind, forcing him to stay quiet.
"Dinner now," says Tiemann, and David walks out of the cell, slow steps in order to prolong it as much as he can. He tries to tell himself that at least Kris and Andy will be there, and Tiemann too, when a large hand is placed possessively on his shoulder, urging him to walk faster.
He stumbles, blushes and lowers his eyes to the floor as he walks. Tiemann's thumb rubs soothing circles on the back of his neck, and David appreciates the small comfort, especially when they walk into the cafeteria and more than half of the inmates stop talking and instead watch them carefully. Tiemann just sneers as they walk further into the room, leading David to the line.
He can't help but think how very different from Cook that Tiemann is when Tiemann lets David carry one tray that he fills with two plates of something that David doesn't even want to think about what is, and drinks, and whatever else they walk past. Cook normally carries the tray, but this time it's David who carries it despite the fact that his arm is hurting. Still, the hand on his neck supporting him makes it bearable, and he finds that he doesn't really care about carrying the tray as long as there is someone who can carry him. Figuratively speaking, of course, he thinks, and smiles weakly for the first time since before his incident with Colton and Hernandez.
"David," says Kris, smiling in surprise as they sit down at the table. David looks up and smiles, looking sideways at Tiemann, silently asking for permission to speak.
"You can speak with Kris and Andy whenever you want," says Tiemann, rolling his eyes. David wants to point out that the first rule kind of said he couldn't do that, but he is grateful nonetheless that he doesn't have to ask for permission whenever he wants to chat with his friends. He looks at Tiemann curiously, silently wondering if the same goes with the other inmate who is now his protector in here.
"So, you gave him the no speaking rule?" asks Andy Skib, raising one eyebrow, looking none too pleased about that. Tiemann scowls and starts to eat, pointedly ignoring the question. Andy Skib isn't done yet though, because he continues soon after, saying, "And how will he tell you that he needs something if you have him be quiet around you?"
David looks shyly at Tiemann. He had wondered the same thing, and he hopes that he will get an answer.
"Fucking hell," swears Tiemann angrily, and David winces as the profanity. "Fine," David watches as he looks at Andy Skib, eyes narrowing into tiny slits before turning his gaze to David who quickly looks away. "You can ask questions or whatever, and you can talk with Kris and Andy all you fucking want, just don't bore me with long tales of your life and such if I don't tell you to."
David swallows, the non-existing lump in his throat seeming to get a bit smaller. "Thank you," he says quietly, smiling gently.
"So?" asks Kris, grinning. David looks at Kris, confused, not understanding the other inmate's question at all. "What are you going to do?" clarifies Kris, looking briefly at Tiemann before looking at David again.
"Oh, um," he says, picking up his carton of milk and takes a big sip of it. His tongue darts out to lick away all the traces of the milk, trying to prolong it for as long as he can. "I don't know."
Andy Skib shoots him a look, and David can see it in his cellmate's eyes before it actually happens. "Johns offered David to transfer cells until Cook returns."
Tiemann turns slowly, and David looks at his food, praying that this is all just a bad dream. Tiemann's hand squeezes his neck, not painfully, but David can definitely feel the strong fingers digging into his skin.
"David?"
That just made it a lot worse. Tiemann doesn't sound angry or, well, something. He just sounds disappointed, which is ten times worse. He never liked it when his mom chided him in that tone, and he definitely doesn't like it now from the inmate next to him either.
"You told me not to speak," he tries, though fully knows that it's pathetic to use that excuse. Truth is that he isn't sure about what he wants to do yet, so it was easier to just not say anything at all.
"David," interrupts Kris, and David blushes and sighs.
"You're moving into my cell after dinner." Tiemann continues to eat and David takes another drink from his milk carton. "And we need to put my mark on you now." David drops the carton - drops of white liquid splashing everywhere - hand instinctively going up to touch the spot on his neck where Cook's mark used to be but no longer is because it has faded away.
"Don't worry, I'll mark you somewhere else," is all Tiemann says, and David doesn't know if he likes the sound of that or not.
~
Tiemann watches as he hangs up the picture of his siblings, and David tries to ignore his new cellmate as much as possible, which really is quite impossible. Tiemann is big-like way taller than David-and has a large frame. His tattooed fingers are curled around the bars above the door opening, and he sort of hangs there, body slack and head resting on one bent arm.
"About time," he says, and David looks up briefly at the red-haired inmate before he looks back at the picture of his siblings again. He had been hesitating to hang it up for a couple of weeks now, in case Cook returned, but it's been almost a month since Cook got thrown in dissociation. David has kind of given up hoping that he will see the other man again, even if the others keep on telling him that it's just a matter of time before Cook will be back with them.
"Have you heard -"
"No," interrupts Tiemann, answering the question before David has even asked it. Possibly because it's the same question that he asks every day, but still. It annoys him a bit that he doesn't even get a chance to finish speaking. However, Tiemann is not someone you complain about, at least not if you prefer to, like, actually live.
David glances at his hands, knuckles bruised and aching whenever he tries to flex them, but it's nothing compared to the bruise he has on the side of his face. He's embarrassed about it, not because he managed to get himself hurt, but because he had managed to break down in front of like every single inmate in here, which had prompted Tiemann to punish him right in the middle of the cafeteria. A backhand blow against his face had shut him up, and thankfully it had only been one. Still, this has made David a bit more wary of Tiemann than he was before.
Tiemann steps into the cell, momentarily making the cell darker as he steps in front of the light that comes from the hall. David looks up, eyes wide and wary.
"It suits you," Tiemann says, voice low and rough as he reaches out to run his fingers over the bruise. David shivers, trying not to move away from the touch. Tiemann cups his cheek, gently carding his fingers through David's dark hair with his other hand, and David can't help but close his eyes.
"Too bad Cook will return, because I could definitely get used to this," Tiemann confesses and David's eyes fly open. They lock eyes, David's hazel ones catching Tiemann's piercing blue eyes. The other inmate smirks, "Relax pet. Cook will be back soon."
David does relax a bit, though he doesn't close his eyes again. Tiemann's fingers continue to run through his hair, occasionally letting the nails scrape against his scalp. It doesn't hurt, in fact, it's rather pleasant and it makes David's head tingle with anticipation. When the red-haired inmate does something like this, gets all affectionate, then it usually means that he wants something. David looks down, and proceeds to blush, because correctly enough, Tiemann definitely wants something.
"Want me to hang a sheet?" Tiemann offers, and David nods. He's gotten used to no privacy in here, but still, he finds it embarrassing when Tiemann forces him to his knees. Heck, he even found it embarrassing when it was Cook who did it, and they were kind of more than just… well, whatever it is that Tiemann and he are to each other.
Tiemann wastes no time in hanging the sheet, and David glances at the small opening that still allows the inmates to look in. However, he doesn't mention it and instead drops to his knees obediently like the prison punk that he has become. His throat hurts already from last time he did it, but he appreciates the fact that it never gets any more intimate that this. Tiemann had promised him on the first night in the cell that he would never demand anything else but hand- and blowjobs, and so far, the other inmate has kept his word.
"That's it," grunts Tiemann as he pries David's lips apart and then pushes in. The head is large, and David's eyes water slightly. Not because he's scared, because he has sort of gotten past that point when it comes to blowjobs, but rather because Tiemann is so big that it's difficult to breathe properly. "Fuck," grunts Tiemann, and snaps his hips, hands grabbing the sides of David's face to keep him still.
David places his hands on the other inmate's hips and pushes away, taking a deep breath before spitting into his left hand. Then he opens his mouth again, swallowing as much as he can and uses his left hand to stimulate what he can't. It takes a couple of minutes, and he knows that Tiemann is close when the other man twists his fingers around David's dark strands of hair and pulls harshly, forcing him closer.
He gags, trying desperately to breathe and then sighs as the tattooed man lets go of his hair and pushes him back on his heels. The spurts of semen land on his tongue, and David keeps it in his mouth for a few seconds before getting up and walking over to the small sink to spit it out. Tiemann groans and sits down on the bed, pants still around his ankles. David looks over his shoulder before leaning down to take a few gulps of the water to clean his mouth.
"Fuck," Tiemann wheezes, and though David shouldn't, he still feels a burst of pride for making someone like Tiemann react like that.
"Why, um," he starts to say, and then stops, because honestly, he isn't exactly sure how to formulate the question properly.
"Yes?"
"I mean, why haven't you chosen a, um, you know, um, someone like me?" he finally says, leaning against the wall next to the sink. His knees are aching, but right now he prefers to keep some distances from his cellmate, even if it means that he has to stand up.
"None of your business," Tiemann sneers, and reaches down to pull his pants up. David watches and blushes a darker shade of red than before when he realizes that Tiemann totally saw him looking. Tiemann merely raises an eyebrow, his expression otherwise unreadable.
"I just mean because you're, um," he tries, but Tiemann looks sharply at him, and David swallows his last words.
"I'm what?" the other man asks, getting up from the bed.
"Um, you're nice and…"
"I'm not nice, Archuleta. I'm a murderer and I like to hurt people. In fact, if you didn't belong to Cook I'd make sure that your face was covered in bruises all the fucking goddamn time." Tiemann breathes harshly, his face getting red as he towers over David who presses himself as close to the wall as possible.
"No," David says, kind of stubbornly, because he feels like he has to make a point.
Tiemann slams his hand against the wall, making David jump like a scared animal. "Are you fucking calling me a liar?" It's said in a lower whisper, voice dangerous and full of promises of pain.
"Y-yes," he stammers, paling slightly. "You're looking after me, even though you totally don't have to. And um, you treat me okay and even though you won't admit it, you worry about people. Like Andy Skib and Kris and Cook and even me, I think."
"That doesn't make me a nice person," Tiemann says, voice just as low as before though no longer quite as menacing, and David swears he can hear a bit of pain behind the words.
"In here," he says, and smiles awkwardly, "in here that kind of makes you a really nice person, in case you hadn't noticed."
Tiemann laughs at that, a hoarse hollow laugh that escapes his thin lips, though the amusement doesn't reach the other inmate's eyes. David swallows, and nods to emphasize his point.
Tiemann steps back and rips the sheet furiously away from the bar and throws it on David's bed before storming out of the cell without looking back. David forgets momentarily how to breathe, and it's not until Kris waves a hand in front of his face, looking incredibly worried, that he remembers to inhale.
"David?" Kris asks, eyes searching David's face for any indication of… well, something. David is not sure what Kris is looking for, but he makes himself smile, though it's a bit strained and not as convincing that he had hoped it would be. "I saw Neal walking out, looking angry, so I thought it was best to come check if you were alright."
David understands now what Kris was looking for before, and he waves his hand dismissively in the air, trying to silently tell Kris that Tiemann didn't hurt him. But then he frowns, because maybe, maybe he hurt Tiemann? Not physically, because he could never ever do that as Tiemann is like twice his size and powerful and like strong, but emotionally, because without even thinking about it, he touched a sore spot. Kind of like a bruise, though not visible to the eye. He reaches up to touch the bruise on his own face, wincing even though the worst of the pain is already over. Now it's just a dull ache, and it's only when he touches it that he even remembers that it's there.
~
They are sitting in the TV room - Andy Skib and Kris sharing a chair, David on the floor between Tiemann's spread legs, and three other inmates occupying the couch - when Johns walks over to them. David looks away from the TV, heart in his throat as he waits for Johns to tell them what's going on. Johns nods - a tiny, almost nonexistent nod - and David feels like he can't breathe properly.
"Tomorrow," says Johns, mouth quirking faintly. "Just got the word. Cook will be let out tomorrow," he tells them, and David accidentally lets out a surprised gasp, because honestly, a part of him kind of hadn't expected to ever see Cook again, afraid that the warden would have him locked up forever. It's silly, he knows, because that would be illegal and the warden actually seems pretty fair if not a bit strong headed, but still.
"Get lost," sneers Tiemann, glaring at the three other inmates. David watches as they get up - somewhat reluctantly, if their annoyed mumbles are anything to go by - and leave the room.
"That's good news," says Kris, and David can't help but just stare at Johns, mouth a little agape as he's trying to process the fact that he will see Cook again, tomorrow. Cook. He glances worriedly back over his shoulder at Tiemann who has leaned forward in his seat, fingers now running through David's hair almost possessively. "Right, David?" asks Kris, when David still hasn't said anything.
"Um," he utters, suddenly unsure if it even is a good thing. He can't count the number of times he's wished for Cook to come back - and he wants Cook, not Tiemann - but Tiemann's behavior seems irrational and it pains him to leave the tattooed inmate without anyone. He knows that Tiemann would not be alone - because they will all still be there, and most of them will be here still for a year at least - but not being alone does not equal not being lonely, which is an entirely different thing and a horrible feeling.
Tiemann's fingers leave his hair and trail down his neck, softly touching David's skin. Then a big, strong hand squeezes his shoulder in a reassuring way, and he can't help but smile.
"It's brilliant news," he finally stammers out, and he sees Kris exhale in relief, almost as if he had anticipated David to say something else.
"Good," says Tiemann, and with a final pat on David's head, gets up from the chair and motions for Johns to follow him to the corner of the room. David tilts his head and looks confused at Andy Skib, but Andy Skib just shrugs as if saying that he has no idea what the guard and inmate are talking about in hushed voices.
"You sure?" they hear Johns say, and Tiemann nods. David gets up from the floor, hands idly brushing the back of his pants from whatever dust and whatnot that he may have been sitting on.
Tiemann looks pointedly at him and raises his hand, giving David the universal stop sign. David's arms cross over his chest, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he waits for the red-haired inmate to return.
"It's settled," says Tiemann when he walks back to the seating area of the room, looking at David for a couple of seconds before sitting back down in the chair from before.
"What is?" asks David, biting into his bottom lip nervously, quickly darting a look at Johns who shrugs.
"Johns will request for me to transfer out of the cell and move me in with Andy so that you and Cook can share." Tiemann sounds so indifferent about it, as if it doesn't bother him to leave the cell that he has been calling home for the last couple of years. His heart quite possibly jumps at the thought of sharing with Cook, nervous and excited at the same time. But one look at Tiemann makes all the excitement go away.
"No," he blurts, which earns him a raised eyebrow from his protector. "I don't want to chase you out of your own cell… I mean, it's your cell and I should be the one to move. I'll move back to my old cell, Cook will understand."
"You'll fucking do as you're told, punk," snarls Tiemann, eyes turning considerably darker as he glares angrily at David.
"But -" he starts to say, however, he is quickly interrupted by Tiemann.
"Until Cook returns, you belong to me and you'll fucking do as you're told or Cook will get back to a punk covered in fucking huge bruises all over, you got that?"
He bows his head, his shoulders hunching over as he tries to fight the desire to take a step back. He manages to stand still, but he can't stop from flinching when he sees Tiemann raise a hand out of the corner of his eye.
"Neal," says Andy Skib, steeping forward, finally voicing his thoughts on all of this. "I think it's admirable of you to offer to move - and Cook would probably be pleased to share a cell with -"Andy Skib look at him, eyes traveling up his body, "- with David here, but do you really think it's wise to move cells? It would cause an awful lot of attention from the other inmates, don't you think? And we don't really need that."
Andy Skib narrows his eyes, as if silently telling Tiemann something, and David looks at Kris for some kind of guidance as to what he's missing. Kris, however, looks just as confused, maybe even more than David feels. So whatever Andy Skib is talking about, Kris clearly hasn't been let in on the secret. The two punks share a confused look, before returning their attention to their protectors.
David has always felt weird about calling Tiemann - or Cook for that matter - his protector, but in here, that's kind of their roles. It's not the official prison term for it though, or so he has learned during his time in here. There are other terms for what they are, terms that make David cringe just thinking about them. The mere thought of referring to Cook as his 'daddy' makes him feel a bit sick, so he sticks to his own version of the term.
"Yes or no?" asks Johns, leaning against the doorframe, hands buried deep in his pockets as he looks disinterestedly at them. "I need to know if I have to fill out the request form. Fuck it; it's not even sure that the request will go through, so maybe you guys are worrying for nothing."
"Yes," says Tiemann the same time that Andy Skib says, "No."
"My cell, my decision," sneers Tiemann, starting to get red in the face.
"Yeah, well, you're talking about moving into my cell, so that also makes it my decision."
"Cook will want to-"
"Cook will want whatever is best for all of us, you know that," finishes Andy Skib, voice low and soft.
"David, what do you want?" asks Johns, voice loud and clear, interrupting the two friends. They all look at him, and David swallows nervously, not sure what the correct answer should be. He chances a glance at Tiemann and quickly averts his eyes at the look he gets - Tiemann looks quite positively murderous, almost as if he's daring David to go against him.
"Um," he says, ever so eloquently, but doesn't offer more to the conversation. He knows that regardless of what they might ask him, what he says has little value to whatever the outcome will be. Ultimately, Tiemann is the one who has to make the decision. He knows it and he's fairly sure that Kris and even Andy Skib know it. That's just the way it is, and a small part of him is glad that it is exactly that way. Less chance of choosing the wrong thing and being held responsible, he thinks, and shrugs.
"We'll do as I say. Make it happen, Johns," voices Tiemann, glaring at all them - eyes searching each of their faces one at a time, almost as if he's daring one of them to say something. None of them do, and David even sees Andy Skib look away.
"Alright, if you say so mate," drawls Johns, words coated thick and heavy with his Australian accent, "but like I said before, not even sure the request will go through. Guess it depends on the warden."
David sits down on the couch, back straightened and hands resting on his knees. His head though, is bowed, eyes lowered to the floor and curiously observing his sneakers as though they hold great knowledge. They used to be this brilliant white color, like so white that it almost hurt the eyes to look at them, but now… now the color is just dull, spots of dirt all over them. Dirty, he thinks, and sighs.
~
It is late afternoon and most of the inmates' are outside in the yard, enjoying the fresh air before dinner. David though - along with Tiemann - is waiting in the cell. He glances around, shivering faintly despite the fact that he is not cold. Tiemann glances at him every now and then, and the curious, if not slightly distant look, makes him want to just crawl into a hole and hide there forever.
It's weird, because he kind of thought they had managed to get along these last couple of long weeks, but now that Cook's return is just around the corner, Tiemann seems quite possibly even more resentful towards David than ever.
He rubs his palms nervously against his pants, his hands all sweaty against the fabric. Cook will come back any minute now and he doesn't quite know how he is supposed to respond to the older inmate when they do see each other again. He loves Cook, no doubt about that, but a small part of him is afraid that Cook hates him for everything that has happened. If it hadn't been for David, the thing with Colton and Hernandez would never have happened, and Cook would never have had to save him by turning the two other inmates into cripples and thus prolonging his sentence (if Johns' information is anything to go by).
"Incoming," says Tiemann, and steps out of the cell - the cell that now belongs to David and Cook, Tiemann's stuff already moved into David's old cell that he used to share with Andy Skib. "You be a good punk now and fucking make him happy, got it?" scoffs Tiemann with a quick glance over his shoulder at David.
"Yes," he says. It bothers him that Tiemann still calls him a punk - because he absolutely loathes the term and everything it stands for - but he knows there is nothing he can do about it. "Promise," he whispers, more to himself than Tiemann who is no longer paying attention to him but rather welcoming Cook back to the cellblock.
"Fuck man, I've missed you," says Cook, grinning widely. David stares from the shadows of the cell as the two inmates hug and clap each other on the back, his heart skipping a beat when he hears Cook's voice.
"Welcome back to the H," says Tiemann, voice so different than before. The tattooed inmate sounds, if not cheerful, then content to have his friend back.
"It's good to be home," says Cook, and David steps out of the shadows and lingers at the opening of the cell, slender fingers curled around one of the steel bars, eyes darting curiously from one inmate to the other. Cook looks over Tiemann shoulder and sees him, and David smiles apprehensively, ignoring the way that something flutters about in chest.
"And what a lovely homecoming gift," says Cook, voice low and almost foreign to David's ears. A shiver runs down his spine, and he can't help but shudder with want. He hadn't anticipated that to happen, but judging from the way Cook looks at him; eyes almost devouring him whole, he thinks Cook is pleased with his reaction.
"And," interrupts Tiemann quickly, breaking the spell and forcing Cook to look away from David, "it's been arranged that you'll share cell from now on with the boy."
Cook's head turns so fast that David can almost hear the snap of the neck. David's eyes follow Cook's gaze and he sees Johns standing not that far away, grinning smugly.
"Yeah?" asks Cook, sounding like he can't believe it.
"But of course," says Johns, sounding pleased with himself. David knows that the request almost didn't go through, but apparently Johns had managed to fix that somehow.
"Fuck," breathes Cook, and looks back at David. David blushes under the eyes of his boyfriend.
"And what about you?" asks Cook, the question directed at Tiemann though he remains looking at David, mouth quirking noticeably, Cook's mind no doubt filled with dirty ideas. David bows his head, a hand reaching up to scratch the back of his neck shyly.
"I'm sharing with Andy now."
"Yeah?" asks Cook, and finally looks at Tiemann. "And you are sure that's okay with you? I mean, I don't want to run you out of your own cell."
"Do you see me running?" asks Tiemann, and David doesn't have to see Tiemann's face to know that one eyebrow is without doubt raised. "I offered to do this."
"Thanks man," says Cook, and reaches up to touch the back of the red-haired inmate's neck, fingers curling around the strands of hair affectionately before giving a gentle tug. "I mean it, thank you."
"Now go be with your boy. I'll be out in the yard with Andy and Kris. See you at dinner."
Then it's just the two of them; David standing inside the cell, Cook standing just outside it.
"Hi," he whispers, wincing at his greeting. It sounds so juvenile, and he wishes he could have said something cool or maybe even flirty. Cook would have appreciated a flirty greeting. Except, um, he totally isn't good at flirting.
Cook takes a step closer, arms grabbing onto the bars above the opening as he just looks at David, a smirk gracing his lips. They are standing so close now that David can feel Cook's breath on his face, warm and gentle against his skin as Cook inhales and exhales. David looks at Cook's lips, his tongue darting out to wet his lips that have suddenly gone dry. Cook groans, and David decides to be brave and takes a step towards his boyfriend until they are standing chest against chest, not even an inch of space between them.
"I've missed you," he whispers, a hand reaching out to touch Cook's cheek, the beard feeling scratchy and itchy against his palm. He moves his hand, nails scraping against the pale skin as he trails his fingers down along the neck, silently basking in the heat radiating from his boyfriend.
Cook's groan turns deeper, quieter, and David's breath quickens. They are still standing out in the open, visible to all inmates who might look their way. He blushes, eyes quickly looking to see if anyone is looking at them, but Cook's hand reaches up to grab his chin, forcing David to only look at him. David looks at Cook, his eyes wide and innocent. Then the rough, calloused hand lets go of his chin and moves down his neck, rubbing against his skin right where the mark used to be. The mark, which is long gone by now, but which David can still feel deep within his soul.
Cook's mark.
"First," whispers Cook, smirking as he leans down to catch David's earlobe between his teeth, tugging lightly at the flesh. "First I'm going to fuck you, but then, after, I'll leave my mark all over your body so everyone can see who you belong to."
"Gosh," he murmurs, blushing notably as his back arches and his chest presses against Cook's arm.
"Hang a sheet, pet, if you don't want anyone to see," instructs Cook, smirking as he detangles himself from David. David nods and quickly pulls down the sheet from the top bunk - from Cook's bed, or David's, depending on which of the bunks Cook wants now that he's back - and quickly hangs it. He's not as good or fast as Cook, but he tries his best and manages to get it to stay stuck.
"So gorgeous," whispers Cook, coming up to stand behind him, nose nuzzling against his neck, long, pale arms wrapping around his chest. "You have no idea how many times I've jerked off to the memory of you while I was in dissociation. Fuck. Get on your knees and suck me," orders Cook, and David waits until the hold on his chest loosens so he can turn.
He can't help but lean forward and place a small kiss on the corner of Cook's mouth. It's just a small, chaste kiss, but it makes Cook pant harshly against him, chest heaving fast as he breathes. "David," mumbles Cook, and presses against David's shoulder with his palms, slowly but surely forcing David down until his knees hit the floor.
David pulls the pants down as Cook raises the shirt up under the pits of his arms, displaying his stomach. David watches as Cook's penis juts and raises until it is laying flat against Cook's pale belly, taut and erect, the head slightly red and already weeping. With a final glance at Cook - who in response nods to urge him forward - David leans closer and with the guidance of his hand bring the penis to his open mouth.
He has still not gotten used to giving blowjobs, and the corner of his eyes already turn a bit wet from unshed tears as he takes in the penis further, his lips closing around the head. Usually Cook thrusts and forces himself further in than David can manage, but this time it's different - perhaps because they have been apart for so many weeks, he thinks - because this time, Cook just gently tugs at David's hair, fingers running through the dark short strands over and over as he allows David to decide the pace. It's both exhilarating and confusing at the same time.
Cook likes to be in control - likes to make David feel him, he once told David - but this time it's like David is the one in charge. David sucks harder, lips curling around the heated flesh, tongue pressing against the vein on the underside of the penis. He wants to please Cook, wants Cook to be this gentle every time - and he is sure, that if he just manages to show Cook that he can be good without pressure or force, then this will not be a onetime thing.
Cook's hips shove a bit, and just as David thinks that this is over and Cook will be back in charge, gentle fingers run through his hair, tips of slender digits massaging his scalp almost apologetically. He relaxes his jaw and uses his free hand to hold Cook's hips in place. That way he'll be able to sense it the next time Cook reflexively presses forward again.
"David," murmurs Cook from above him, and David looks up through his eyelashes, watching in amazement as Cook returns the stare, eyes dark and filled with desire. He pops the penis out of his mouth and licks a long stripe up the underside of the penis, making sure to keep the eye contact. Cook groans, voice low and with an almost animalistic edge to it, and David blushes deeply as he feels the front of his own pants tightening somewhat.
"I want to fuck you," hisses Cook, and David moves his hand up and down the penis as he nods, fist clenching around Cook a couple of times, nostrils flaring as his mind catches up with the situation. They have been together before, though it was only a couple of times, and right now it seems like ages ago.
"Um," he says, and reaches up to twist his fingers around Cook's shirt to hoist himself up from the floor. Because Cook had allowed him some control before, David decides to just follow his gut instincts and do as he wants, which is kissing Cook. Cook has amazingly talented lips, and the velvet tongue pressing against David's own tongue feels so good, gosh.
"Bed," whispers Cook, and David nods twice, his heart in his throat. Normally Cook guides him to lie on his stomach, but this time David wants to be able to see Cook, so he steps back until the back of his head touches the top bunk and his calves rests against the lower bunk. And then he sits down, his hand still twisted around the fabric of Cook's shirt, moving back as he brings Cook down on top of him.
"No, like this," he says, though it comes out as desperate plea, when Cook tries to make him turn. Cook looks at him for the longest time, just watching David until David finally has to turn his head away, the blush returning to his cheeks. Then Cook grabs his chin and turns his head, smiling softly before leaning down to press their lips together in a tender kiss and David smiles against the lips, his arms going around Cook's neck to hold on tight (and never let go again).
~
continue
masterpost | part i | part ii | part iii | part iv | part v | part vi