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Part III: Power
'Hands on the wall,'' Dad commands one day after returning home from work, not even looking at his sons before grabbing the cane. He grabs the remote and turns off the television, pointing towards the wall with the tip of the cane. Phil stares into the blank screen in front of him, tries to pretend the cartoon that had been playing before is still running. Martyn arises from the floor to accept the punishment, but Dad still stands with the cane raised even as he places his hands on the wall. ''Both of you.''
''What did we do?'' Martyn breaks procedure by turning his head to look at Phil with worried eyes, the first merciless strike of the cane making him resume his position, nails digging into the white wallpaper. He never hurts the both of them, Martyn always takes whatever blame there is to take. Dad makes an impatient hand gesture, motions for Phil to join his brother.
''It doesn't matter,'' Dad says, patting Phil on the shoulder as he passes him. He takes place beside Martyn, who covers his shivering hand with his own firm one, caressing his jittery fingers with a calm thumb. Phil looks into his eyes as the cane is repeatedly brought down upon their backs, the silent tear sliding down Martyn's cheek bringing him more pain than the cane ever will.
-x-x-x-
''I know how we can get him out,'' Lester whispers through the darkness, combing his long fingers through Dan's curly hair, a sweet gesture that has become a tradition during the nights Dan is haunted by his guilt; Padilla has spent nearly two months in the box, and if Dan knows the staff well enough he's not coming out any time soon; if there's one thing they enjoy more than putting criminals behind bars it's punishing those who already are.
''How?'' He asks, letting his head rest in Lester's lap, enjoying the gentle caress. Lester is seated on his bed, Dan sitting between his legs on the concrete floor. Lester plays with a few curly strands before retreating his hands, warm palms instead finding rest at Dan's cheeks. Dan opens his dark eyes, looks up and finds Lester's bright ones through the darkness, shining and gleaming like two beacons.
''I know something about Hecox,'' Lester responds, fingers jitty with excitement against Dan's soft skin. A dark cloud moves from the full moon outside the cell's tiny window, pale rays of light revealing that tight, unsettling smile that Dan has grown to appreciate. He turns his head a bit, lips grazing Lester's fingers, prompting him to go on. ''Something he doesn't want his supreriors to know about.''
''What is it?'' He turns his body to face him, propping himself up on his knees, placing his palms on his thighs. Lester is just in his boxer shorts, his torso and long legs bared. Dan's fingertips dances across the pale skin, muscles tensing underneath his touch. Lester's smile falters, turning into a hungry snark instead, lust clouding over wide eyes. Dan feels an unknown sensation rush through his veins, making his heartbeat quicken. ''Tell me.''
''Maybe I shouldn't,'' Lester contemplates, deep voice coated in a layer of childish playfulness. He spreads his legs a bit, places a firm hand on the back of Dan's neck, burrowing his fingertips in the coarse hair on his nape. Dan bows his head, lips tracing the outline of Lester's member through the fabric.
''Please,'' He whispers though he doesn't feel like he's begging, fingers tucking at the hem of Lester's boxers. Lester lifts his hips a bit, just enough for Dan to pull the boxer shorts down past his thighs, his half hard member swaying in the air. Dan darts his tongue out to lick up the lenght, stopping to swirl it around the head, drawing out a breathy moan from Lester.
