Caged

Chapter - 11 - Guardian Angel

Dom understood the situation as soon as he stepped into the room. Dark eyes glanced disgustedly toward where the guards sat in their office. They were so engrossed with their TV that they hadn't even noticed that World War III was about to break out--not that they'd care.

Dom strode across the room quickly and stood over Hernandez.

"O'Connor do this?" he asked the agonized man.

Hernandez moaned in answer.

Dom swung around unexpectedly. The back of his hand connected with Brian's cheek, sending the taller man spinning backwards and crashing into the coffee table. Dom didn't even look at him; instead he leaned down and extended a hand to Hernandez.

"Sorry, Raul, he hasn't learned to respect his betters yet, but trust me," he growled, "he soon will."

Hernandez reached out and accepted Dom's help, letting the big man pull him gently to his feet.

Dom took great pains to dust the man off. He offered a couple more apologies, soothed his wounded pride, and promised a couple favors. They parted on good terms. Hernandez went back to his men with his head high and Dom turned to where Brian crouched.

"Get up," he ordered. A black scowl darkened his face.

Brian struggled to his feet. He had to use the arm of the couch to pull himself upward.

"He was just defendin' hi'self," JamJimmy stuttered out as he nervously hopped from on foot to the other.

Dom's glare silenced the black man.

Dom watched silently as Brian straightened up. One whole side of his face was red and already starting to swell. Brian's blue eyes were filled with hurt, betrayal, and barely controlled rage.

"You flirtin' with my friends?" Dom accused with a snarl.

Dom pulled his left arm across his chest and swung it. He again caught Brian with a back handed blow--this time to his other cheek. Brian staggered but didn't fall.

"Leading them on?" Dom grabbed a handful of shirt and twisted it, pulling Brian close. "Then turning them down?" His face was so close to Brian's that his spit sprinkled the mottled skin.

"No, no, no," the usually quiet Markus whispered in Dom's ear. The timid young man pulled at Dom's arm. "He didn't do anything." Markus was nearly in tears. "Don't hurt him, Dom."

Markus stood his ground when the big, bald, scowling head swiveled in his direction. Dom raised his arched brows in wonder at the boy. Those were the most words he could ever remember hearing from the youth. He snubbed him and returned his gaze to Brian.

"Come away, Mark," Tookie whispered. He grabbed the back of the boy's waistband and pulled. "Dom don't need you making a scene."

"B-but, Took, Bri - "

"Shut up," Tookie hissed harshly. "Dom knows what he's doing."

Markus stopped his uncharacteristic defense of Brian and let the old man pull him back to the card table.

Throughout the exchange Dom had continued to glare down into Brian's face. Once Tookie had led Markus away, Dom continued the act.

"If yer so hungry for cock--I'll give ya' all ya' want--and a whole lot more than ya' can handle." As Dom jerked the ex-cop toward the door, most of the prisoners looked away--shamed, but a few still shouted with glee. "I'm gonna take him back to the cell and fuck his brains out." Dom growled to the guard.

The guard leered and moved aside.

~*~

"You stupid, fucking, asshole," Dom berated him as he knelt beside the bunk and gently pressed a cool washcloth to his friends face. "Why the fuck can't you just get out of here?"

Brian hissed as the cloth stung his tender face.

"Go ahead and cry out," Dom instructed. "Don't forget I'm supposed to be punishing you."

Brian smiled and then moaned in very real pain as it made his face ache.

"Took was right," Dom said as he studied the marks on his lover's face. "I should have marked your face up days ago." Gentle fingers ghosted over the high cheekbones. "You're just too damn pretty for your own good."

The dark face was filled with remorse and despair.

"What should I have done?" Brian asked softly. "Blown him?"

Dom shook his head. The thought of that filling him with disgust.

"It never would have come to that," Dom growled softly. "He was just showing off, trying to gain some face. Raul hasn’t got the balls to take my private property." Dom paused. "Not in public, anyway. But if he ever corners you alone … then yes," he choked out. "That's what you should do. A quick head job ain't nothing. You'll survive it." Eyes as dark as ebony locked with Brian's. "Then, later… I'll kill him."

Dom froze when Brian reached up and took hold of his skull. He shivered in pleasure when Brian smoothed his hands over his stubbled scalp. Dom held his breath when Brian began to slowly pull his head down.

"Oww," Brian muttered when their lips met and pain lanced through him.

"Fuck, Brian," Dom pulled away, guilt weighing heavy in his gut. "Don't start something you're not in any shape to finish." He looked down at the aching man on his bunk. "I've got you bruised on both ends, don't I?"

Brian nodded.

"Okay then," Dom said in resignation, "we'll just have to pretend."

He bent down and helped Brian out of his dungarees before covering the long form with the sheet.

"When the men start filtering in for the evening, curl into a ball and face the wall; pretend you're asleep."

Brian nodded in understanding.

"What did the Warden want?" Brian asked.

Dom braced on hand on the upper bunk as he looked down at his friend.

"I'll tell you tomorrow."

"Dominic..." Brian stopped and rolled toward the wall as they heard the approach of footsteps.

Dom stood casually with his arms folded over his chest. He leaned one hip against the frame of his open cell door. His shirt was off and the button on his pants was undone.

He smirked at the prisoners as they walked past; warding off various comments and leering looks easily.

JamJimmy, Markus and Barns paused. Barns was grinning avidly. Markus looked upset, his blue eyes lingering on the golden back of the man curled up, motionless in the shadows of the bottom bunk. The boy turned to look at Dom. He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but Jimmy bumped into him. The black man was shifting his weight back and forth from foot to foot nervously, swaying, as if trying to work up the courage to confront Dominic.

"Go."

JamJimmy jumped about a foot when Tookie spoke from behind him.

"I want a word with Dom." Tookie told them. The three prisoners moved away rapidly, relieved.

Dom moved aside, inviting Tookie in.

The small man limped in slowly and sat down in the single plastic chair that was allowed in the small cell.

"You explain to him," he nodded toward the form in Dom's bed, "that he shouldn't have stood up to Hernandez, disrespecting him in front of everyone like that?"

"Sort of," Dom said softly.

"You did the right thing." Tookie comforted the big man. "Actually, I think things worked out pretty well. By beating him so unfairly you made him a lot safer. Most of the men feel a little bit of sympathy for him, as well as a healthy respect for his fists--they'll think twice about messing with him now. They way you sucked up to Hernandez made him feel less shamed; he's a lot less likely to sneak up behind him and stick a shiv in Blondie's ribs. How badly did you mark up his face?"

"Roll over, Brian."

Brian did as he was told and looked into concerned brown eyes.

"Heh," the little man fussed. "You did a good job."

"Right. I'm his fuckin' Guardian Angel."

"Yes." Tookie turned his head and looked up into his best friend's eyes. "You are." He stood, patted Dom's big arm, and limped away to his own cell.

"Lock up and lights out in five in minutes," crackled the P.A. system.

Tookie hurried to his cell several doors down. Dom stood until the door automatically closed. He remained standing until the guard doing the head count passed by, then he slowly undressed and slid into the narrow rack beside Brian. There was just enough room to allow him to spoon around the long golden form. He draped an arm around Brian's waist and wasn't surprised when the other man adjusted himself so that he could lay his arm atop Dom's.

Dominic nuzzled his face in Brian's hair and thought to himself that he should make him shave the golden locks off--make him a little less pretty--a little safer.

Holding on to Brian tightly, he eventually drifted off to sleep.

.