"Why do you think we're in the showers?" James asked as he soaped David's hair, crouching behind him. They sat on the floor and enjoyed the warm environment of the shower.

"Because we clean ourselves?" David asked an uncertain counter question, stroking James's legs.

He leaned forward and hugged David sensually from behind while kissing him on the cheek. “Because there are no cameras here. It is forbidden to be observed here and on the toilets. By law. Even if Hook likes to weasel himself out of legal matters - he doesn't stand a chance when it comes to cameras in a private place like showers or toilets.”

David carefully turned to him. James grinned broadly at him.

“And even if he had microphones installed, he wouldn't understand anything. The sound of the water drowns everything out. On top he would have to place the microphones - if he installed some - somewhere on the corners of the changing room or on the ceiling above us.”

He pointed his finger at the places mentioned. David followed him with his eyes.

“Up on the ceiling doesn't make sense. With the high humidity and the rising water vapor, any technology would eventually go into a tightrope. And he doesn't have enough money to replace them every few weeks or to buy high-end devices. So the changing rooms are left. However, they are far too far away. Even in absolute silence, the microphones would have to be set to such high sensitivity that as soon as someone was in the immediate vicinity of the microphone you would only hear white noise.”

James sat across from David and started massaging David's chest with foam.

“That's why there are always so many guards around here. They are not worried that anyone will be raped here. They're just worried that you will do other dirty business here that Hook doesn't tolerate. Like illegal cigarette sales.” Then he laughed impishly. “You’re supposed to buy them from the machine. Hook earns money with it. Of course he doesn’t with black market shit.”

James’ logic was as always waterproof. His knowledge of listening devices was also surprisingly good. David moved his eyes along the walls. "So that's why you don't want us to meet somewhere else?"

"Babe," he suddenly sighed very dramatically. “There is nothing that I want more than to have you in my cell. So we could finally fuck in a bed and not always on these hard tiles. Anyway, I'm afraid that soon I'll either develop an allergy to the soap or that webs will grow between my toes.”

David had to laugh for the first time in weeks. It was just a short, intense laugh, but it was good. James smiled happily at him and kissed him lovingly on the forehead.

“Why do you want to know where cameras are? Are you planning something bad?” James asked, climbing into David's lap. They caressed each other's backs.

After so many good conversations and love, David didn't want to lie to his new friend. He really wanted to tell him the truth. But he couldn't. What if James wasn't as nice as he played? Anyway, killing people didn't seem to bother him.

So David decided to lie for the time being. That one lie that he would use from now on: fear. “I don't plan anything. But I don't want to be followed at every turn. If I know where to look, I can at least behave differently than if I know nobody is watching me.”

James eyed him for a few moments until he slowly ran his hand back on his neck. His playfulness was slowly becoming direct. "Do not lie to me, dear. It's not nice.”

David raised his eyebrows. His pulse quickened. "Why do you think I'm lying?"

With his index finger, James suddenly teased his back. Something kind of ached, but didn't hurt. David was afraid he would scratch the fresh scab. But what he got out from under his fingernail was a blackish-grey mixture.

"Do you know what that is?" James asked hypocritically and even smiled in David's face.

David remained silent for the time being.

"Those are leftovers from a plaster," James said, as if he were enlightening David like a child. "And I don't assume that Tucker happens to have some professional medical adhesive plasters in his drawer that are exactly this colour."

David's eyes met James's. He flicked the blackish-grey substance into the sink. “I know you were back in the infirmary. Although I advised you not to see Dr. Novak, you did go anyway. Why?"

His hands lovingly wrapped around David's neck again. He squeezed lightly, massaging the muscles. It became clear that it should represent a loving strangling.

"I hadn't given up on her so quickly," David admitted, remembering her face as he told the truth. She seemed more cooperative than he thought.

"Don't trouble her," James said softly, stroking David's short hair. “If you want to know something, just ask me. Because, if you keep looking at anyone who might have any information, Hook will quickly put his attention to you. And then it gets ugly.”

"Have you had any experience with that?" David asked, stroking James' soaped butt. Good thing they already had sex. Otherwise the conversation would have ended long ago. His butt was just so soft.

"One could say," James whispered suddenly sharply and narrowed his eyebrows. “I'm serious, David. If you go on like this, it will cost your head. And so far, I don't even understand why you take this risk at all.”

"Why, you ask?" he sighed, looking past James. Was he just digging his own grave? James seemed to smell the lies like flies smell a lot of shit. "I'm curious."

James snorted. "Then screw that curiosity back."

"And then? Do we just continue to live like this? A bit of sex and showering every day? People die around us and you don't even know why?”

"David," James started, as if reprimanding a child, "fuck the others, okay? You are not a world enhancer. Let it be good. You will not be able to change this place. There are people like Hook, there are people like Candy, there are people like Tucker and there are people like me. You either play the game or you don't. Sometimes it's better to float in the water and hope not to drown, ok? Don't mess with stuff like that.”

James sounded like Dr. Novak. They both wanted him to be covered. Was his well-being worth so much to them? Or did David start to bother?

"And then there are people like me," David said, continuing to knead James’s butt. "We have to exist too, don't we?"

"You are the people who are found dead in the courtyard at some point," grumbled James bitterly, and suddenly broke away from David. “I don't want to force you into anything, but take my advice: leave it. Lean back, pretend you're just here for a visit. Then people leave you alone. If you absolutely want to get involved, at least do it under my care. So I can pull you out of the shit again if it is necessary.”

The word again opened something uncomfortable in David’s mind. But James was right: he needed his help when Antonio was bothering him. “And why should you do that? With actions like this you put yourself in danger. You look more like someone who puts his own wellbeing above the one of others.”

"Thanks for the psychoanalysis, David," James said suddenly impudent and got up. He stood in the shower and aggressively washed the soap off his body.

"Are you angry with me now?" David asked a serious question. He couldn't really judge it.

"Yes, I am," James said, and turned off the tap. “You are like a child who has been told 100 times that the stove top is hot and yet you keep reaching for it! At some point I won't be quick enough to pull your hand away and you'll burn yourself!”

What a nice metaphor.

“I like you, David. You have been for a long time ... the nicest person I have met. I don't have many friends, but I would call you my friend.” His lower lip began to tremble slightly as he looked sadly at the ground. "I don't want this friendship to break."

"And it won’t just because I eavesdrop a few things," David lied, knowing that this friendship could end faster than he’d see it coming. Whether through death or other circumstances - it wasn't really up to him what would happen, which is why David was so committed to keeping the prison in order.

James’ blue eyes sparkled with wetness as he tried to read some intentions in David. “Just promise me you won't tell anyone about me. About the things we are discussing here. About our sex. Anything that could have anything to do with the two of us.”

“Don't worry, I'm not doing that. Even if I was tortured.”

"God forbid," James murmured, rubbing his wet hair. "Let's hope something like this never happens."

David thought James would go now, but he stopped next to the shower and licked his lips several times. As if he was thinking. Or waiting for something. So David took the chance and spoke again.

"You said I should ask you if I wanted to know anything," David began, catching his lover's full attention again. “I want to learn more about the mafia and the undercover cop. Do you know anything about that?”

James’ blue eyes sparkled strictly in David's direction. "Why do you want to know that? What for?" James asked a counter question, revealing very clearly that he had at least an idea, what was going on.

"Curiosity. And I want to know how the pieces of the puzzle are connected.”