#also how placating he is and how he really tries
“You either sing, or you scream. Your choice.”
Martin raised the cane, tapping it against Lev’s cheek, running it along the underside of his chin.
“No, please,” said Lev. He raised his hands slightly, in gentle surrender, trying to placate the man. Attempting to broadcast the right amount of subservience, despite already being on the concrete, on his knees.
It was better when he faced him, talked to him, played along. The man seemed to revel in his nervous obedience. And Lev was happy to give it, if there was any chance of being spared a beating.
“I don’t know what, what, uh, which song. What do you want me to sing?”
The look of disappointment that fell across Martin’s face was strange, as if he couldn’t believe Lev would let him down like this.
“Come on, now. I can’t do all the work for you.”
Lev hated that he was like this. Twenty-five, a fully-fledged, bona-fide, tax paying adult— to whom the begging, the kowtowing, the prostration came embarrassingly easily. Flinching at a stern voice. Coming to heel at the first mention of a firm hand.
He didn’t want to give in to the other man. He didn’t. He just didn’t want to be hurt. That was it.
He closed his eyes, and searched for the right note. Going with the first song that came to mind, one deep within his psyche. A favourite.
His voice shook at first, before he schooled it into something sturdier. He got through the first chorus with barely a waver, and then Lev could only cower, and curl, and try to shield himself with his arms as the rattan cane was brought down on him again, and again, and again, and again.The whistle and crackof it hitting a shoulder blade. The heavier thud as it hit a meatier part.
And then he could only lie on the floor, and bleed, and bruise.
“You said, nhh… you said you wouldn’t…”
“Wouldn’t what?”
“Promised…”
Martin tutted. “I made no promises, darling. Besides,” he said, wiping the blood from the cane with a cloth. “How can you expect me to resist, when you sing so sweetly…”
He stooped, and Lev would have been afraid, if he had the energy. Martin pressed a kiss to Lev’s temple.
“…but your screams are like music to my ears?”
