the room, causing stars to dance before his eyes, and then Javier hauled him into a sitting position. “Up you go, guero.”
Webster felt his glasses returned to his face, but he was still having a hard time holding his head up. He coughed a few times, his lungs trying to remember how to work following the blow to his diaphragm. “Thanks.”
“Don’t thank me. Thank your boss,” Javier said. “Your boss works for my boss and called in a favor. He told me and the boys to keep an eye on you.”
“Lincoln?” Webster asked, voice cracking.
“I guess, man. No idea. I don’t care so much for names. I just do what my uncle tells me. Can you walk?”
Webster nodded, allowing Javier to haul him to his feet. “Let’s get you to the infirmary.”
“No,” Webster snapped before softening his tone. “No infirmary.”
The last thing he needed was to be isolated where only the guards could get to him. “You definitely need a doctor, guero.”
“I’ll be fine,” Webster insisted. “Really.”
Javier scoffed. “Fine, but if you start pissing blood, don’t fucking blame me.”
“Thor and his crew did this to you?”
Webster nodded but stood still as Cy catalogued the deep purple bruises blooming over his body, including one on his back that was the perfect imprint of Thor’s shoe tread. It was late enough at night for the inmates outside to have quieted, leaving Cy and Webster in a bubble of silence, making the way Cy’s fingers danced along his skin feel even more intimate than usual.
“I only know it was Thor by his voice. I couldn’t tell you who was with him. They all smell the same.” It was meant to be a joke, but it missed the mark.
“Did they…” Cy let the question die, almost like he was afraid to upset him.
A huge lump formed in Webster’s chest, and he tried to push it down, but it came out in a sort of dry sob. He shook his head, hoping Cy understood that he’d been spared at least that indignity.
“Nicky,” Cy whispered, a tinge of hopelessness in his tone that made Webster’s frustration and helplessness well out of him in the form of hot tears. He swiped at them angrily but didn’t fight Cy when he turned and enfolded him in his arms.
Part of him wanted to fight and scream and hit Cy with his fists. He was tired of feeling helpless in this fucking place. He was tired of being rescued, tired of feeling like he was back to being the hapless victim of his own life. He’d spent so many years growing up feeling like life was just happening without any input from him, and now that he’d put all of that behind him, here he was being shoved around at the whims of others. He was tired of having no control over his own life.
“Can I fuck you?”
The question seemed to catch Cy off guard as much as it did Webster. It was on the tip of his tongue to take it back when Cy nodded. “Okay.”
Webster stepped back to look up at him. “Really?”
Cy frowned and nodded. “Yeah, if you want to. I’ve never done that with anybody before but sure. It’s probably safer that way, anyway. That way I don’t hurt you. Are you sure you don’t want to see the nurse tomorrow?”
Webster shook his head. He didn’t want to see the nurse. He didn’t want to be babied or treated like he was fragile. He needed to feel like he had some control of his life, and as ridiculous as it sounded, taking control of Cy’s body, even for a little while, was making him shiver. His cock was definitely on board.
“Take your clothes off.”
Cy smiled. “So, no seduction, huh? Just get naked and get on the bed?”
Webster went up on his tip-toes to wrap his arms around Cy’s neck and pull him down for a kiss. Cy’s mouth was soft and yielding, as easy and accommodating as Cy himself. Webster deepened the kiss as he pushed Cy’s orange coveralls to the floor before sliding his hands into his underwear and gripping his ass. “You know I love you, right?”
The admission slipped out, but Webster didn’t regret it or try to take it back. He didn’t care that it was too soon or that they hardly knew each other or that they only knew each other in this cage. The words echoed in his heart and he knew in his soul they were true. He wasn’t sure