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The blow snaps his head sideways making him choke. It's such a surprise that at first Toby doesn't react. He's still on his knees, and Walker is zipping himself up. His lip stings, so he brings a hand to it, staring at the blood that comes away on his finger. He hasn't eaten today. It seemed like too much of an effort. Maybe that's why the world is swaying.
Walker grips Toby's chin. "You like that bitch, don't you? My cock and my fist."
The words cut through his stupor. Rage uncurls from the depths of his soul, and with an angry growl, he butts his head forward, aiming for Walker's crotch but getting his stomach instead. The fingers on his chin slide down trying to grip at his throat, but Toby throws himself backward. He comes to his feet and laughs.
"What's to like? I barely noticed. You're not going to win any size competitions Walker."
Within seconds he's back on the floor with Walker on top of him and delivering a sharp punch to his side. They roll around on the floor, Toby continuing to laugh as he takes shots.
The hacks separate them, and he can't seem to stop laughing. As he's dragged off he sees O'Reily shaking his head and Keller standing next to him as fucking cold as ever. The sight of the two of them makes him furious, which for some reason makes him laugh even harder.
It isn't until he's stripped and tossed into the Hole that the rage leaves him. Without the adrenalin pumping through his veins, Toby realizes he's unbearably cold. Naked, he curls up trying to get some warmth from his own body. His side aches, as does the inside of his mouth, and when he coughs, he spits blood. But none of that seems to matter as much as the unbearable exhaustion. It's a physical weight pressing down on him until he can't breathe. He's so tired. It's all too much.
And so he does the only thing he can do. He lets it go. Toby pictures a concrete slab pressing down on him, flattening until there's almost nothing left, and then this huge crane coming down and lifting the slab. Once it's gone, what's left of him disappears into the air. He's nothing.
His body still shivers, but Toby doesn't notice it. He doesn't feel the cold or the pain any longer. With all of it gone, he sleeps peacefully for the first time in weeks.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
As he lowers the weight, Chris notices the priest, but he doesn't say anything despite how badly he wants the information Mukada must be here to deliver. Ain't no point in tipping his hand as silence will get him what he wants. Sure enough as soon as he sits up, the priest begins to talk. He gets right to the point, so he's obviously very disturbed. That's not good.
"Beecher's in the infirmary."
Chris waits. His heart is pounding, but his expression's uncaring.
"When they checked on him in the Hole, there were specks of blood near his mouth, and he was unresponsive."
It couldn't be that bad because Mukada said Beecher was still in Oz. He ain't dying or they would have had to send him out for care. Chris keeps silent.
Mukada sighs. "You may think you're fooling me, Keller, but you're not. I know you care. The blood was from several cuts inside his mouth. He has some bad bruising on his side, but no injuries that would explain his having been non-responsive."
"So what he's in some sort of coma?"
"No. He's responding now."
"Then I don't see the problem. Or why you're cutting into my gym time once again."
Mukada is silent for a second. "You haven't seen what I saw, but Beecher's being released tomorrow, and then I think you'll get it. And I hope you choose to act soon, because I believe you're the only one who can reach Tobias. Chris," Mukada's voice softens, "if you wait too long, I'm not sure what will be left of Beecher." He shakes his head and walks away.
Chris slams his fist into the bench. This ain't his fucking fault. Not this time, but that don't really matter, does it? No, not when seeing Beecher screw around with all those other guys makes him want to rip this place to shreds. The scene the other day with Walker made him want to snap the bastard's neck and then shake Toby until some goddamn sense came back into his head. What was this shit? An attempt to make him jealous, some fucked up sort of penance, or a combination of both? Knowing Beecher, it was somehow even more convoluted.
He's sure the priest is making a big deal out of nothing. Toby probably put on some show, and Mukada fell for it. And surely it's boredom that has him complaining to Mineo that he's pulled something and needs to go to the infirmary. Once inside, it's not hard to slip away and find Beecher.
"You trying for an academy award?"
Beecher opens his eyes. "Excuse me?" The words sound muffled as the right side of his mouth is cut and swollen.
"Yesterday that scene with Walker, and then today you must have pulled a number on Mukada. He's all doe-eyed worried about you."
Instead of answering, Beecher looks down and repeatedly runs a finger along the sheet, as if he's smoothing out a wrinkle.
"Hey, are you gonna answer me?"
Beecher blinks. "Oh, I thought your question was rhetorical. No, I'm not trying for an academy award. That would be impossible."
What the fuck? "Ha, ha. Funny. So what are you up to?"
"Nothing."
It's only one word, but there's something chilling in the flat way Toby delivers it. Chris thinks his imagination has gone into overdrive until Beecher meets his gaze, and the look in Toby's eyes is devoid of any emotion. There's no sign of rage or woe is me pleading—there's nothing. Just as he reaches down to touch Toby, Dr. Nathan's voice cuts across the infirmary.
"Keller, did your muscle pull magically heal?"
He turns and smiles. "What can I say, it's a miracle."
"Officer, escort him back to Em City, please."
As he makes his way out of the infirmary, Chris vows to be Beecher's shadow when he gets out of here. He'll figure out what's going down in Toby's scary brain.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Using his fork, Toby creates a perfect circle of peas.
"Isn't that something?"
"Uh-huh"
Keller is sitting across from him, keeping up a steady stream of conversation that Toby hears as background noise. Every once in a while that hum gets louder, sharper, and he takes that as a cue to make some sort of affirmative noise.
He takes a bite of his mashed potatoes, which have grown cold. Toby stares at them for a minute and then presses his fork into them, making criss-cross patterns. They ooze into the peas. That's a mess. Toby stands.
"Where are you going?"
"I've finished with my lunch."
"Well, I'm not done with mine. Sit back down."
Beecher does, and he notices that Keller frowns as he does so.
"That's it? I tell you to sit, and just like that you do."
"Yeah." He shrugs. "So?"
"So?" Keller puts his fork down and clenches his fist. "What the fuck, Beech?"
"I'm tired."
"You've been saying that a lot lately." Keller leans over the table and places his hand on top of Toby's. "Why are you tired?"
"I don't know." All of the sudden his heart is pounding, and he feels warm. Is he ill?
"Sure ya do. You know everything. Talk to me." Keller swipes his thumb across the back of Toby's hand.
He realizes that despite eating lunch and dinner with him every day for the last week, this is the first time Keller has touched him. Toby's not sure why that's important or why it sends a jolt of panic through his veins. All he knows is he has to get away. He yanks his hand free and stands. "I'm done. I need to go."
This time, thankfully, Keller doesn't try to stop him. He hurries from the cafeteria and back through Em City to the safety of his pod, where he curls up on his bunk. The pounding of his heart is overwhelming until he closes his eyes and lets himself get lost in the sound, successfully avoiding the ambush of questions from his brain. It's not long before his heartbeat evens out, and he dozes off, once again encased behind a fragile wall of mental ice.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Hey O'Reily, you seen Beecher?"
"He left about 15 minutes ago with Rebadow for the library. What's with you not letting him out of your sight? You keeping tabs on him now? He ain't gonna thank you for playing babysitter." Ryan is slouched in a chair shuffling a deck of cards.
"You know why I'm doing this." Chris doesn't need to spell it out for O'Reily. He ain't dumb.
Ryan shrugs. "Beecher's always been a few clowns short of a circus."
"O'Reily." Chris's voice is pitched low and deadly.
"Hey." Ryan puts his hands up, palms outward and then picks up the cards again. "He'll come around, and I'm sure it'll be a damn sudden change."
"Maybe. I gotta go."
As he walks off, Chris wonders if Beecher will actually come around this time. Mukada's warning rings in his mind—if you wait too long, I'm not sure what will be left of Beecher. Had he waited too long? Lately when he looks at Beecher, he feels like something essential is missing, as if a part of what made him Toby has been ripped away. It's like he's in love with a dead man. Is it possible for the soul to be gone and the shell to remain? No, that's bullshit. Toby's still in there. He just has to find a way to reach him.
"Hello sweet pea."
The words send a chill through him as he crosses the threshold of the library. The sight that greets him is even more chilling. Schillinger is sitting next to Toby with an arm around his shoulders.
"You're mighty silent these days. World got you down?"
"Leave him alone, Vern," Rebadow says.
"Shut up old man and mind your own damn business."
Chris wants to rush the room and beat Schillinger to a bloody pulp, but instead he strolls over and speaks softly. "Hey Vern, I think you should back the fuck off."
Vern takes his arm off of Beecher and stands. "Or what, Keller?"
He spares a glance to see if Beecher is all right and that's a mistake. Toby has returned to reading his book as if nothing out of the ordinary has occurred. He's not paying the least bit of attention to Keller or Schillinger.
Despair cuts like a ragged shank and the gape it leaves quickly fills with rage. He shrugs. "I don't know. But you never know when there's going to be one less piece of shit in this world."
"Be careful what you threaten Keller. So you two love birds have made up? How sweet." Schillinger looks to the side as Murphy approaches them. "I got to tell you, though." He points to Beecher. "I think your boy has a screw loose."
"Everything ok here?"
"Everything's fine Officer Murphy. I was just stopping to say a few words to my good friend, Keller, as I was heading out."
"Right. Move it along Schillinger."
"Bye Keller."
Chris glares.
"Keller, are you staying? If so grab a book. It's the library. You read here."
He does as Murphy asks, randomly picking something off the shelf, and opening it as he sits next to Beecher. After a second, he reaches out and touches Toby's nape. "You ok?"
Toby jerks away from him, book falling to the floor. He doesn't bend to retrieve it. Instead, he bolts from the room as if demons were on his heels.
Chris stares after him and clarity strikes. He thinks he knows the way into where Toby has locked himself away.
"You need to give him time."
"What?" He'd forgotten Rebadow was there.
"Beecher, give him time. What happened to his son is a horror that will mark him for life. He has to learn to live with that loss. So much has happened in so little time. It's too much to process. You know he really was out of his mind with grief when he thought you were responsible for the kidnapping."
Chris nods and leans down and picks up the book Toby dropped. "You're wrong."
"What do you mean?"
"About giving him time. I think I've given him too much time." The pieces slot together. He remembers the way Beecher reacted the other day when he touched his hand at lunch. And just now before Beecher fled, for a second he'd seen in his eyes an emotion he recognized—fear. It ain't the emotion he wants to inspire, but maybe at first, it don't matter what emotions surfaces, as long as Toby feels something. He'd been keeping from touching Toby too much not wanting to spook him or incite a fight, but now he thinks that was the wrong decision.
Sharks like Schillinger smell weakness, and Toby's bleeding weakness from every pore. If he doesn't force a change, Beecher will end up dead. No fucking way is he letting that happen.
"Whatever it is you're about to do, you might want to think it through." Rebadow's gaze is sharp, as if he can see the wheels in Keller's brain turning. The old man ain't dumb.
"Yep. I have. Don't worry."
*~*~*~
As he looks around the copy room for paper, Toby wonders why this room is constantly reorganized. The thought is a brief occupant in his mind, flitting away as soon as he locates the paper. He puts two reams aside and makes sure the remaining stack is aligned. Grabbing his reams, he straightens only to feel someone behind him.
"I miss you."
Keller's words are warm bursts against his neck. The other man is so close that his back is touching Keller's chest. A hand on his hip pulls him even closer, and then he feels a kiss pressed just beneath his ear.
No! Toby turns spinning out of Keller's touch, his thigh slamming into the copy machine. Keller corners him, and his heart beats so rapidly he swears it's going to come right through his chest.
"I ain't going to hurt you."
Toby knows that a lie. It will hurt. It always hurts because he and Chris don't know how to do anything except hurt each other. He has to stop. These things are gone. He let them go. They're not in him anymore.
He barrels forward, paper in front of him, to knock Keller out of the way, but force isn't necessary as Keller steps backward, giving him space. Toby can breathe again. He flees the room, clutching the paper to his chest like a life preserver. When he gets back to Sister Pete's office, it takes him a few moments to be able to let go of the paper. Once he does, he ignores Pete's concerned inquiries, and instead sits down at the computer and gets back to work, letting the data entry numb his brain.
Of course, the day's events haunt him that night, and he dreams of Keller's mouth.
The kisses start soft, the barest touch against his spine, but they grow more insistent as Chris makes his way up his back. Toby feels a sharp nip to his shoulder. There's pain, but it also feels good, real. With his eyes closed, he turns so that Chris can mark the rest of his body with his mouth.
Lips meet, and when Toby opens his mouth to let Chris inside, it doesn't feel like surrender. It feels like being whole. He smiles.
His smile turns to a frown as his hand presses against something wet. Chris makes a sound of pain, and then he's gone.
In a second, Toby is sitting up eyes open. He's somehow gotten onto the floor. Chris is in his lap, his stomach covered in blood. He's been shot.
"Oh shit. It's going to be ok. Stay with me, Chris. Ok?" He presses down on the wound trying to staunch the blood flow.
Chris looks up at him with a gaze filled with betrayal. "You did this."
"What? No. You've been shot. Just stay still."
"You," Chris grabs his wrist so tightly it feels like he's breaking it, "you did this."
"No, it wasn't me." Toby jerks awake to the sound of his voice. It takes a minute to realize he'd been dreaming. Below him, his podmate grunts and turns over in his bunk. He lies back down and closes his eyes, but sleep never returns for him that night.
*~*~*~
"Thanks for seeing me Father," Chris says as he sits.
"Of course." Mukada folds his hands primly placing them on his desk. "What did you want to talk to me about?"
"So you know how you asked me to help Beecher?"
"Yes, and I've seen that you have been."
"It ain't enough."
"Chris, you have to give it time."
"He ain't got time. You know that. I gotta do more." Chris moves onto the edge of his chair and leans partly on Mukada's desk, moving into his personal space and trying to establish a connection. "I've got a favor to ask. I need you to talk to McManus and convince him to move me back in with Beecher."
Mukada's hands come off the desk and he leans back, shaking his head. "I'm not sure that's a good idea."
"You asked me to help. And that's what I'm doing. But what you're not going to trust me? You said you knew I still cared about him. That we had loved each other. Do you really believe that? Do you really want to help Beecher, because if you do, then you've got to give me a chance and get me moved back into his pod. I know you ain't got a lot of reasons to trust me. Don't blame ya. But, Toby, he's the one thing I'm never getting out of my blood. I do care. Enough it scares the fuck out of me, but that makes me the one person who can help. Doesn't it?" Chris slides back into his chair and crosses his arms.
Mukada is silent for a moment. Then, he sighs. "I'll see what I can do."
It turns out what he can do is move mountains damn fast. Chris is impressed as right after dinner Murphy informs him he's being moved. When he passes through the common area with his stuff, Beecher is seated near the TV, earphones in place. Toby doesn't seem to notice the rumblings and looks going round as Chris approaches their pod. For once not getting a reaction doesn't bother him. Time is on his side.
Once his things are put away, he exits the pod and starts to head in the direction of the TV. Mid-way there he freezes as Toby is looking at him, expression crumpled in despair. Christ. He starts moving again, meaning in some way to reassure that it's gonna be ok, except that quickly the expression is gone, and Beecher stares at him with a gaze as frozen and empty as ice. He turns back to the TV.
Chris takes a seat behind him, but he keeps his hands to himself and stays quiet. It'll be better to make his first move when they're alone. Time seems to crawl until Murphy calls for count.
As he stands, O'Reily passes by him. "Hope you know what you're doing, K-boy." He's gone before Chris can respond.
It don't matter. He's got this under control.
Once the door seals shut, and they're locked inside for the night, Chris starts talking. Mindless chatter that's meant to put Beecher at ease. It doesn't work. Toby's pressed against the back wall looking like he's facing down a firing squad.
Damn it. "Hey, wanna play a game of chess or something?"
He doesn't get an answer, but Toby closes his eyes, and for a second he looks like he's in pain.
Chris steps closer, ignoring the way Beecher's body tenses at the sound of his footsteps. "What are you afraid of?"
"You." The answer is raw, sounding like an unwilling confession tortured out of its victim.
Something inside him, raw and nasty, worms its way free. Without thinking, he grabs Beecher's wrists pinning him to the wall. "Me? You're a piece of work, you know that? So what I'm your fucking boogeyman?"
Beecher shoves him hard enough that he almost falls to the ground.
"Don't you fucking touch me." He lunges and reaches for the sheet on the top bunk, yanking it off and snapping it into the air. "Don't. Touch. Me."
Chris moves out of the way of the whipping material. "I won't. Just calm down. Come on, Toby, do you want to get sent to the Hole?"
By the manic gleam that appears in Beecher's eyes, Chris knows he's just said exactly the wrong thing. He of all people should know if you push Beecher too hard, he goes ballistic and self-destructive. After all he's played that card himself. Things are not going as he planned. Which shouldn't be such a surprise. When does anything with Beecher go as planned? How had he not taken that fact into consideration?
"You want me to leave you alone? Fine. I will. I got a couple of magazines to occupy my time." He bends down slowly and lifts up his mattress. "See." He holds up the magazines and then sprawls on his bunk in the opposite direction of Beecher and pretends to be suddenly interested in the Busty Babes displayed before him. The pages might as well be blank for all he sees of them. Still, he makes a show of it, pretending to hold the magazine up for a better angle.
It has to be at least ten minutes that Beecher stands there grasping the sheet like he's some insane version of Linus from the Peanuts. Just as Chris is starting to worry that he really went way too fucking far, Toby slowly moves and starts to put the sheet back onto this bunk, and then climbs into it.
Chris lets the magazine fall to his side and closes his eyes in relief. He needs to take things slower.
The night drags as he doesn't dare try to fill it with conversation. Soon, after lights out, though, he hears Toby make a noise that sounds like his name. He waits and sure enough, the sound comes again, and it's definitely his name.
He breathes a sigh of relief. "Yeah, Toby. I'm awake."
There's no response.
"Toby?" When there's still no answer, Chris slides out of his bunk.
Beecher has one hand fisted in the sheets, and Chris can hear him grinding his teeth. He's obviously in the grip of a nightmare.
"No, it wasn't me. No, please, Chris, no."
"Hey, Toby, come on. Wake up." Chris gently shakes Beecher's shoulder, but he doesn't wake. "Toby!" He shakes harder, and suddenly Beecher bolts upright.
"Chris."
"Yeah, it's me. You're okay. It was just a bad dream."
Toby pulls him closer, leaning down to grab his shirt, yanking it up and placing cold hands on his stomach.
"Woah, you need to warm up those hands." He laughs and stops immediately as Beecher presses into his stomach. What the hell? Chris lightly captures his wrists pulling so that Toby isn't pressing so hard.
"Stay with me, ok. Help will be here soon. And you've got to believe me, it wasn't me. I didn't do this to you. It wasn't me."
"Ok, it wasn't you. I believe you." Slowly Chris eases Toby backward so that he's lying back on the bed. He doesn't resist but he keeps his hands out as if he's still pressing against something.
Chris brushes Toby's damp hair off his forehead. "Everything's gonna be fine. Just breathe."
Beecher shudders, gasps and flinches backward. "Keller?"
"Yeah?"
"What are you doing?" Beecher pushes himself up into a partial sitting position.
Then, he gets it. The whole time Toby had been grabbing at his shirt, he'd still been in the grip of the dream. Crap. "You had a nightmare. I was trying to wake you, make sure you were ok."
"Oh." Beecher lies back down and turns onto his side.
"Toby?"
"I'm fine. You can go back to sleep."
"Hey, listen." He reaches out toward Toby, but the sharp response he gets makes him pull back.
"Don't. Leave me alone. I don't fucking need you. Christ, why can't you understand that?"
In the end, it's the way Beecher's voice shakes, as if he's at the end of his rope, that convinces Chris to quietly get back into his own bunk. He remembers Rebadow telling him he might want to think things through. Really should have taken that advice. Tonight's a loss, and he's going to have to think of a new game plan going forward. Last thing he wants is to be the one who shoves Beecher off the cliff.
*~*~*~
His days are routine. Toby welcomes the unexpected simplicity. After that first horrible night, Keller has asked nothing of him but to play cards each evening. At first it filled him with anxiety, but now while it's not something he will say he looks forward to, it is almost comforting, he guesses. He doesn't think about it often.
He wakes, takes all of his meals with Keller, and goes about his day in a mindless haze, drifting. In the evening, Keller expects him to play cards and to talk for a bit, but it's harmless conversation, nothing that requires too much thought. After each game, he feels strangely relaxed. He's been nightmare free for almost two weeks.
Simple is something he can live with. Of course, he should have expected simple isn't something Keller can manage for long.
The evening goes as it normally does at first. They play cards, each clean up for bed, and then it's lights out and he climbs into his bunk. Except this night after the first round of the guards, Keller gets up and stands by his bunk.
"Chris?"
Keller stares at him for a second, and then runs a finger up and down on the inside of his arm. It's a gentle touch that feels like the slice of a knife.
"Toby."
The soft way his name is said is another cut. His insides feel like they're burning. He's known but hasn't wanted to admit that every game, every conversation, has been one more breach in his wall. Keller's gotten inside again, and Toby feels like he's being split apart. "Please, don't. Let things stay like they are."
"I can't do that."
"Why?" He sits up and pulls away. Anger flares, and he welcomes the protection of an old friend. "It's not like you forgive me."
"Maybe I don't."
He inhales sharply, surprised by how much Keller's response hurts. He shouldn't be letting this happen. So why is he?
"Hey." Keller reaches out for his arm, but Toby yanks it out of his reach. "But that don't mean I don't still love you. And it don't mean I can't forgive you. I just ain't there yet. Forgiveness takes time. You should know that."
"Is that what this is about? Revenge? You want to make me suffer the way you think I made you suffer?"
"You're such a drama queen, you know that?" Before Toby can react, Keller runs a hand down his cheek. "I don't want to see you suffer, but I also don't want to love a dead man. That would be fucking pointless. Maybe that makes me selfish, but I ain't got no problem with that. Toby, I don't know how to let you go. That's the one thing I ain't ever going to be able to do."
Toby swallows past the lump in his throat. "Now who's the drama queen?"
Keller laughs. "Only for you."
There's silence for a moment, and then Toby stares at his hands. "I can't live with everything. Gary...." His voice breaks.
Keller strokes his arm, and this time, Toby leans into the touch.
"Yes, you can. You know you can, and that's part of the problem isn't it? Knowing you can go on after everything."
That line of thinking is not something he's willing to explore right now, so he sidesteps it. "And then there's losing you."
"Who said you've lost me?"
Toby closes his eyes, trying to fight down the wave of want that threatens to devour him. He can't take anymore. Why won't Keller just leave him be? It's all too much.
There's a squeeze to his forearm, and then suddenly the air around him feels colder. He hears a creak from the bunk below and realizes Chris has finally decided to leave him alone. Thank God. Right?
Hysterical laughter bubbles up in his throat, and he coughs, choking it down. He's insane, completely and absolutely, because now that Chris is gone, he wants him to come back. Toby runs a hand over his arm. He wants Chris to touch him again, wants to hear more lies about how he hasn't lost him and how it's all going to be all right. How fucked up is that? He takes a deep breath and tries to let go of it all, to not care, but he can't seem to do that when he can hear Keller breathing. Memory assaults him.
Chris shot, bleeding out beneath his hands, followed by days of agony where he could get no word on his condition. Then, joy at the sight of him again.
Terror like none he'd ever known filling him at being told Gary and Holly were abducted. Helplessness and loss roiling through him. Gary. No. Gary.
Rage and self-loathing at believing he'd let himself be fooled again that he'd been blinded by love.
Horror at realizing Chris was innocent, and he'd just shredded one of the remaining good things in his life. Self-loathing devouring him as he realizes he only has himself to blame. Chris had warned him not to listen to Said, and yet he'd try to do a good deed in Oz. The punishment was beyond what he could ever have imagined.
The memories blur together until he can't sort them out, and he feels so many emotions long denied darting in like piranha to feast. Then his mind feeds him a lifeline, Chris's voice saying, "Who said you've lost me?" Maybe it's not too late. His obsessive nature grabs onto that thought, and instinct takes over. He jumps down from his bunk and sits on the edge of Keller's, need overtaking rational thought.
"Fuck me."
Keller doesn't respond. Instead, he turns on his side and silently watches him. Panic starts to thrum in Toby's veins.
After what seems like an eternity, but is probably no more than two minutes, Keller asks, "Will it help?"
"What, do you want to be my therapist now?"
Keller shrugs. "If it's what you need."
"What I need is you. Come on, tell me you're not horny as hell."
"Oh shit yeah I am. Ain't a minute that goes by that I don't think about getting you naked and touching your cock."
Relief floods through Toby. Keller's open way with sexuality, how he brashly states his desires, made him uncomfortable in the past, but now the familiarity of it makes him smile. "Well I'm offering, so why aren't you taking me up on it?"
"Because I ain't gonna be your punishment."
Toby jerks his hand back like he's been scalded. "This isn't about punishment." He hears the uncertainty in his voice and curses himself. No, he's not screwing this up. Right now has nothing to do with punishment and everything with forgiveness. He takes a deep breath, and then slides a hand down Keller's arm and laces their fingers together. "Chris. I've missed you."
Keller squeezes his hand and moves over on the bunk, yanking on their entwined fingers so that Toby joins him. The kiss is surprisingly gentle, a soft solid press of lips. Toby tugs to release his hand so that he can touch Chris, but his hand isn't relinquished. Keller just holds on tighter and keeps kissing him.
He stops fighting and just goes with it. They keep kissing, slowly moving into something more demanding. This is new. There's never been time to kiss as if you're learning someone inside and out. And it dawns on him, that's exactly what Keller is doing, learning or re-learning. He's starting anew.
Just for a second, he breaks the kiss, squeezing their still entwined hands. "This is what I need, what I want."
"Yes." Keller releases his hand and cups his face. "Me too." He slides a leg between Toby's bringing their bodies closer together.
Toby works his cock out from the slit of his boxers, relishing the way it rubs against Chris's. Christ that feels good. He wants to spend days like this, taking his time to feel every bit of his lover and to witness every reaction. But they don't have days and they might not even have minutes.
He places a hand on Chris's ass pressing him in closer. "I don't know how long it's been since the last round. A hack could be by any minute." Toby wishes that weren't the truth.
"We have time." Keller sounds confident, even though there's no way he can be sure of such a thing.
And maybe Toby wants to be conned or to believe fate will be kind for once, or maybe he just trusts that Chris is right. Whatever the reason, he keeps to Keller's leisurely pace, letting the desire build and not rushing through it.
Just when he's gotten to the point where the need is overwhelming, Keller stops kissing him, grabs the edge of his boxers and starts moving them down. Toby helps by raising up his hips. Once his boxers are gone, the cool air hitting his hard cock is jarring. He reaches for Chris's boxers but gets air, as Chris straddles him.
He feels kisses against his stomach and a lick of tongue in the direction of his groin. "Oh God."
"Like that do ya?"
His response is a low moan as Keller follows up his words by swallowing Toby's cock.
"Fuck. Chris." Toby bites down on his bottom lip to keep from getting too loud. He grips Chris's shoulder, as his hips rise, seeking to meet that amazing mouth. So damn good.
A whine leaves his mouth when Chris after a long suck releases his cock.
Keller chuckles, strips off his boxers, and moves upward to kiss Toby. Complaints are forgotten as he's enveloped by Chris's weight, wrapped in the scent of him and the feel of his skin. He wants to entwine himself with Chris until they can't be separated.
"Toby." Keller's voice is a harsh breath of air. He touches his nose to Toby's for a second, and then he pushes himself up, aligns their cocks, and thrusts forward.
Every nerve in his body seems to vibrate, "more, more, more." Toby presses a hand over their cocks, adding pressure and controlling the glide as both their movements become more frantic.
Toby comes first. Sounds he can't squelch slip free as the orgasm wraps through his body. Distantly he feels Keller still moving, and then the tensing of his muscles as he comes as well. Toby tugs so that Keller collapses on him, a heavy but comforting weight, and he holds him tight as he shudders through his orgasm.
Nose buried in Chris's neck, Toby inhales, the scent of him completing the feeling of returning home to something he's missed so very much. He presses a kiss against Chris's neck and says, "I'm sorry. I'm so very sorry."
Chris inhales sharply, and Toby wonders if he's just made a misstep. But after a second, Chris pushes himself up and touches his cheek. "I forgive you." He smiles and even in the dark, it seems blinding to Toby.
He swallows trying to keep the emotions in check, and once again pulls Chris back on top of him.
After a minute, Chris rolls off, and while part of Toby wishes he hadn't moved just yet, another part realizes breathing is necessary and doing so had been getting difficult. Plus he's beginning to feel sticky. A fact he ignores when Chris pulls him closer, and he ends up with his head resting on Chris's chest. He feels a kiss pressed against his head.
"I ain't ever letting you go. You remember that." Chris's voice holds an intensity that Toby imagines as a visual vibration, a light to guide him in the dark.
"I'll remember," he says. He reaches for Chris's hand, squeezes it and repeats, "I'll remember."