Title: Afternoon Delight Author: Star Fandom: Oz Rating: NC-17 Series: Advocacy Previous chapters: http://aostara.tripod.com/Advocacy.pdf http://aostara.tripod.com/Release.pdf Category: Romance/semi-PWP Archive: C5, TS(WW), B/K sites. Others? Just email me first. Notes/Comments: Betaed by the usual suspects (Data, Mary, Mark and av), but all mistakes are solely my fault. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ April, 2005 ----------- Toby leaned back in his chair and rubbed at his aching temples. "What a lousy way to spend a beautiful spring day," he muttered, glaring down at the tax forms and receipts spread across the normally pin-neat surface of his desk. "Whatever possessed me to let this wait until the last minute...." He trailed off with a smile, remembering the series of impromptu road trips Chris had managed to talk him into over the past two months. He'd never enjoyed them growing up, but somehow watching Chris, Holly and Harry explore off-beat tourist traps -- he could almost hear Chris's deep, amused voice extolling the virtues of New York State's biggest ball of twine, followed by the children's delighted giggles -- had given him a new appreciation of what 'family vacation' could mean. Stretching, he checked the time. Ugh, two and a half hours spent hunched over that damn desk, deciphering instructions that put the most complex court documents to shame. "I deserve a break," he announced, then glanced around sheepishly, suddenly thankful that the kids were both still at school and Chris was... well, keeping himself entertained somewhere. Brow furrowing, Toby considered that last thought and decided that taking a break right about now might be a damn good idea. Chris certainly hadn't been thrilled with his plan to lock himself in the office for the afternoon and had disappeared quickly once he realized that -- in a rare change of pace -- his playful distractions were beginning to annoy, rather than entice, his lover. Remembering the shadow that had crossed Chris's face as he'd left, Toby opened the door and called his name, only to be met with silence. Making his way out of their office and down the hall, he checked the two upstairs bedrooms and master bath before heading downstairs. As he'd expected, the kids' rooms were empty, as were the den, the living room and the dining room. The door to the basement was locked and both the bike and the car were visible in the driveway. Finally he headed into the kitchen, having learned that Chris's first love -- well, discounting himself, the kids and the 1971 Harley Shovelhead Chris was restoring -- was definitely food. Empty. He stood there, puzzled and a little concerned, until he noticed the noise coming from the backyard. It sounded... well, like nothing he'd ever heard before. Electrical, metallic... then a muffled, but very familiar, "Fuck!" as the other noise ceased. Peering through the windows over the sink, he saw Chris rubbing at his right bicep, where a thin strip of naked skin was visible between the sleeve of his t-shirt and the top of the elbow-length leather gloves his lover had donned. Taking in the face guard, leather apron and a pile of mysterious-looking equipment and metal scraps, Toby came to the startling conclusion that Chris had been welding. But what? And why? He watched closely as Chris adjusted the face guard, rearranged some of the metal he'd been working with, then relit the welding torch. Toby still couldn't quite make out what he was working on, but winced when the raw-looking burn mark on the exposed part of his bicep came into view. Glancing down at Chris's more appropriately clad legs and feet, he was grateful that the infamous Keller macho streak hadn't extended to his lower half as well. The boots Chris was wearing had never completely recovered from their encounter with the bubble bath on New Year's Eve, but they made excellent work boots, especially for the type of dirt and grease-oriented tasks Chris seemed to revel in now that he was free of the pristine environment of Em City. Remembering all the times he'd been dragged into the shower to help Chris get clean, he wondered if perhaps needing an extra hand or two to help with the scrubbing up wasn't the larger part of the attraction -- for both of them. // Not that I'm complaining, // he thought. // On the contrary... this new hobby could be promising. // Watching a bead of sweat run down the back of Chris's neck to the top of his t-shirt, Toby groaned softly, memories of tasting the salty tang of that sensitive nape as they'd made love that morning flooding his mind. Chris bent to lift another piece of metal into place, and he felt his groin twitch in reaction to the sight of faded-almost-to-white denim stretched tautly over what had to be one of the finest asses in the known world. Dropping his hand, he rubbed absently at his rapidly swelling erection, the paperwork stacked on his desk promptly fading from his consciousness. BRRRING! Startled, Toby gasped and jumped back from counter, blushing as he realized what he'd been doing. // Great thinking, Toby. The father of two young children caught jacking off in the kitchen while playing peeping Tom with his unsuspecting lover. // Sighing, he reached for the phone, hoping his voice would come out in something resembling its normal register. "Hello?" "Hi, Dad." "Hey, Holly. What's up? Do you need a ride home from school?" he asked, glancing at his watch. "No. Actually, Mrs. Williams is taking Cindy and Michael skating and she said that Harry and I could come along if it's okay with you...." Holly said, trailing off hopefully. "What about dinner?" "Uhm, well, they kinda said something about pizza afterwards maybe. If you and Uncle Chris don't mind, that is." Toby hesitated for a moment, thinking, // Especially Uncle Chris. // Over the past year or so Holly had begun complaining about *his* overprotectiveness, but now that Chris had moved in, she was beginning to understand the true meaning of the word. He grinned, picturing the impact Christopher Keller in full glower would have his lovely daughter's future dates. Finally, taking present circumstances into account, he replied, "Sure, sweetheart. Just don't let Harry eat too much pepperoni. You know it...." Holly sighed, and Toby could all too easily picture the accompanying eye roll. "Gives him nightmares. Yes, Dad. I know. I'd rather skip all that screaming too." Beneath the normal pre-adolescent forbearance for the slow-wittedness of parents everywhere, he could hear a small echo of the relief he'd heard the other night as he'd tucked her in. Reaching over to turn on her nightlight, he'd been pleasantly surprised when she'd told him to leave it off, that she didn't need it anymore. When he'd asked her why, she'd blushed and said that ever since Uncle Chris moved in, the house felt... right... safer... and that her nightmares had pretty much disappeared. Giving her a wink to show that he understood, he'd kissed her goodnight, murmuring, "Yeah, he does tend to have that effect." "Okay. Oh, and be home by eight. And have fun. I love you." "Love you too, Dad." Toby tried not to feel guilty as he hung up the phone, wondering if letting your kids go out with friends so that you could spend the afternoon drooling over your hot and sweaty partner necessarily made you a bad father. As he walked back toward the windows, he realized that sound of the welding torch had stopped. Worried that Chris had hurt himself again, he headed for the sliding glass door that led to the backyard instead. The spot by the welding equipment was empty, but the loud squeak of the back entrance to the garage drew his attention. Toby breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that Chris didn't seem any more the worse for wear. Considering that he was in the process of removing the heavy protective gear and walking into the cool darkness of the garage, it seemed more likely that he'd just decided to quit for the day. Curious to see what Chris had been working on, Toby quietly slid the door open and stepped outside. Barefoot, clad only in a pair of cutoff shorts and one of Chris's tank tops, he shivered in the late afternoon chill as he padded across the yard, keeping a careful eye out for metal scraps as he got closer to the work area. Chris had set up as far away from the kid's play area as possible, and the care he'd taken in stowing away the leftover pieces of metal in the locked shed they used for gardening supplies made Toby smile. If anything, Chris was even more in tune with Harry's reckless streak than he was -- it was far more a 'Keller' trait than a 'Beecher' one, as he'd pointed out repeatedly -- and went to extra lengths to protect the boy from his own insatiable curiosity. Toby circled the work in progress slowly, trying to figure out what it was going to be. Made of a variety of metals, the colors ranged from anodized black to the rusty red of copper. About the size of a table lamp, its shape was vaguely reminiscent of the tattoo on Chris's left shoulder. Hearing the hiss of running water, Toby turned around. Chris, now clad only in jeans and a t-shirt, stood near the garden, a scant ten feet away, and was holding the hose at his side as he tilted his head and gave Toby a knowing leer. Amusement made his deep blue eyes glitter like sapphires as Toby flushed, realizing that Chris hadn't been as unaware of his impromptu spying as he'd thought. Toby shut his eyes as Chris lifted the hose, bracing for the cool blast of water he knew was coming. When nothing happened after a few seconds, he reopened them, glancing first down at himself, then back up at Chris, who -- with a smug, sexy grin set firmly in place -- was lazily hosing *himself* down instead. *** Short, dark hair already glistening in the fading sunlight, Chris let the water stream down over his face and neck, soaking the white t-shirt until it was virtually transparent. Once he was sure he had Toby's undivided attention -- which, judging by the other man's rapt expression, wasn't in much doubt -- he ran his free hand down his chest and lowered the hose to his hip, making sure his dazed lover had a good view. Arching his shoulders back in an almost casual stretch, he pulled the waterlogged fabric tight across the smooth curves of his pecs, preening as Toby's gaze drifted first to his peaked nipples, then continued down. Toby felt his mouth go dry as the faded jeans turned a few shades darker and clung even tighter to the muscular flesh beneath. Licking his lips, he watched wordlessly as the hose moved back towards the center of Chris's body, wet denim clearly outlining the beginnings of a very promising erection, despite the stream of cool water washing over it. "Chris?" he finally managed in a harsh whisper. "Yeah, Toby?" Chris replied, his voice a silky purr. "What..." Toby cleared his throat and forced himself to blink and look up before trying to continue. "What do you think you're doing?" Dropping the hose, Chris locked eyes with Toby, then swaggered over. When he was less that two feet away, he stopped and spread his arms wide. "If you wanted a show, all you had to do was ask, baby." Meeting Chris's lascivious smile with one of his own, Toby stepped forward, resting his forearms on the broad shoulders and leaning in until he felt warm puffs of exhaled breath against his lips. "Keller," he growled. A shiver of desire ran down Chris's spine, warming him in spite of the chill breeze. "Hmmm?" he replied, resisting the urge to bridge the infinitesimal gap between their lips, captivated -- as always -- by Toby's ability to match him at any game. He did, however, wrap his arms around Toby's lower back and let his fingers dip into the waistband of the shorts; if nothing else, three months of working in a law office had taught him the importance of starting from a strong negotiating position. "Would this show," Toby whispered, letting the length of his body rest against Chris's, the heat generated by the familiar contact easily compensating for the discomfort of his suddenly wet clothes. "Happen to include...." Chris held his breath as Toby's cheek brushed against his, then let it out in a ragged groan as a teasing tongue flicked against the soft skin just below his ear. "Audience participation?" Chris tightened his grip, pressing them together securely from thigh to chest. Shifting his hips until Toby's gasp confirmed that he'd found just the right position, he murmured, "I think it's mandatory, actually." He nuzzled lightly at Toby's neck, grinning as the blond head automatically tilted to the side in response. "Really?" Toby breathed, then leaned back slightly and curled his lips in a wicked grin. "You don't ever like to just... watch?" Dark eyes flashed as Chris processed that question into a series of mental images -- both memories and as-yet-unfulfilled fantasies. Toby heard only the barest hint of his name in the low growl that issued from Chris's throat; a split second later, his lips were captured in an almost frantic kiss. Every nerve tingling, Toby wrapped his arms around Chris's shoulders, eagerly abandoning himself to the hunger that always lay just beneath the surface. No, domestic life with Chris wasn't perfect, or even easy most days, but in moments like this -- moments when playfulness and love and desire melded together as flawlessly as their bodies -- he knew that even if he'd had to wait 43 more years for this, it would've been worth it. The image of a geriatric Chris leering at him made him snicker, and Chris broke off the kiss, giving him an indulgent, curious look. "What?" Chris asked softly, then good-naturedly dropped kisses along Toby's jawline as he got his laughter under control. The sex was -- without a doubt -- incredible, but what gave Chris his deepest sense of contentment was seeing Toby, and his kids, so happy. Every time he saw that special twinkle in Toby's eye, or Holly's shy smile, or heard Harry's unrestrained giggles, he knew he was exactly where he wanted to be. "Sorry. Just picturing what this would've been like if we'd had to wait until you got paroled. You'll be what... 87 in '38?" Chris leaned back and tilted his head thoughtfully, considering that for a moment. Finally he shrugged and said, "I bet I'll still be able to fuck you through the mattress." Toby sniffed, brushed a thumb over Chris's eyebrow, then cupped his cheek. "I'm looking forward to it," he murmured solemnly, then grinned. "In fact, if you wanted to get in a little practice...." Chris smiled and ran one hand up and down Toby's spine, keeping the other tucked securely into his shorts. Suddenly he tensed, noticing the encroaching evening. "Hey, aren't the kids late getting back from school?" "They're going skating and then out to dinner," Toby replied, leaning forward for another kiss. Chris dodged him, eyes narrowing suspiciously. "With who?" "Karen Williams and her kids." He waited until Chris's tense muscles relaxed slightly, then added, "So, if you wanted to head into the house for that practice, we've got a few hours." "Into the house?" Chris echoed questioningly, slipping his hands under the thin fabric of the familiar-looking tank top. Toby raised an eyebrow even as he arched into the gentle touch. "Out here? Isn't it a little cold?" "I'll keep you warm," Chris promised in a whisper, taking a quick glance over his shoulder, then backing up slowly, drawing Toby with him. Stopping only when his back rested against the large magnolia tree which shaded the kids' play area, he closed his eyes and let out a purring rumble of contentment as Toby's hands caressed his chest. Watching the dappled sunlight play across Chris's face as the breeze stirred the fresh spring leaves, Toby marveled again at how lucky he was. Not only had he been given a second chance at life, but to have Chris right there at his side.... His throat too tight to speak, he leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to Chris's lips instead. Chris's eyes flitted opened briefly, then fell shut again as he opened his lips, encouraging Toby to deepen the kiss. Letting Toby set the pace, he idly caressed the other man's back for a few moments, only dropping his hands down to squeeze the tight muscles of his ass once slim hips rocked forward, anchoring him firmly against the tree. When Toby paused for breath, angling his head to nibble at the curve of his neck, Chris took the opportunity to push him back slightly. Ignoring Toby's whimper of complaint at the loss of contact, he slipped his hands his waist and deftly began unbuttoning the shorts. He paused when Toby tensed. "What?" he whispered, pulling back to read Toby's expression. "You're serious? You want to do it out here?" Toby asked, his eyes opened wide and looking a little wild. "Well... yeah. We're tucked into a private corner; nobody's gonna see anything. Besides, there's nothin' quite like foolin' around in the great outdoors," Chris replied, then glanced around at the carefully landscaped yard. "Or somethin' like it, anyway." "I wouldn't know," Toby said with a rueful sniff. Reminders of Chris's extensive history of sexual exploits always managed to tilt his mood toward depression. Bowing his head, he snapped, "Other than the past few months and Gen, pretty much all my 'fooling around' has been *legally* restricted to indoors, remember?" Chris's jaw tightened at the reference to Toby's both voluntary and involuntary experiences in Oz. He held the other man at arm's length, glaring until he noticed the color spreading across what he could see of the lowered face. Consciously gentling his expression, he tilted Toby's chin up and waited patiently for him to let their eyes meet. He wasn't sure how much of this was insecurity due to his admittedly wilder past and how much was just plain jealousy, but he'd be damned if he'd let either ruin a perfectly good afternoon. Tensed for a fight, Toby was startled by Chris's restrained touch. Giving in to curiosity over the continuing silence, he looked up. Toby's aggravation gave way to confusion as Chris sighed, then stepped forward, kissing him thoroughly while reversing their positions. Resting his hands on the smooth bark on either side of Toby's head, Chris let his arms take the bulk of his weight. Slipping a leg between Toby's thighs, he deftly pinned his disgruntled lover in place before breaking off the kiss. Using only his voice and the slow, almost involuntary motion of his hips, he attempted to recapture the moment they were so close to losing. "We can move this into the house if you want, baby, but -- inside or outside -- it's still us," he said softly, then waited cautiously for Toby's forehead to unfurrow. The phrase had become a sort of mantra between them since those first awkward moments in the hotel the day he'd been released. As Toby had predicted, they'd managed to press plenty of each other's buttons as they shared more experiences with each other, triggering painful memories and sparking heated arguments. The subtle reminder of what they had -- of how rare and impossible to explain it was -- usually smoothed over the worst of the rough edges. Toby searched Chris's eyes for a moment, then -- with a final sniff -- relented, pulling the t-shirt loose from the snug jeans before slipping his arms around the other man's waist and running his hands up a noticeably chilled back. "You're gonna catch a cold," he said, rubbing warmth back into the goosebumped flesh. Chris shrugged. If staying here worked for Toby -- and judging by the way their bodies were slowly melting together again, it sure seemed to be -- it would be well worth it. "You... uhm, could get out of those wet clothes. That might help," Toby suggested with a shy smile. Chris grinned and took a small step back, dipping his head in a small bow. "Your wish...." he murmured, slowly stripping off the t-shirt, holding Toby's eyes as long as he could. "Is my command," he finished, tossing it to the ground in a sodden heap. Toby smiled and gave a small laugh, his eyes eagerly roving over his lover's exposed skin. "You've been reading too many bedtime stories," he teased. "Now get back over here." "MmMmm," Chris replied, shaking his head and reaching for the buttons of his jeans. He slid them open one at a time in a slow tease, enjoying the anticipation glowing in Toby's eyes. Moving his hands to his hips, he hooked his thumbs in the waistband and pushed down, then froze, suddenly grasping the flaw in his plans -- wet jeans stick. Avoiding Toby's heated gaze for a moment, he gave an experimental wriggle. Nothing. Eyebrows knitting, he glared down at himself, trying desperately to figure a way out of this that didn't leave him looking like a fool. Anticipation slid slowly toward amusement as Toby realized Chris's predicament. Biting his lip to keep from bursting into laughter, he couldn't quite restrain a small snort. Becoming the immediate target of an icy blue glare, he resisted the urge to tell Chris to hop, as he would Harry. He knew from several unpleasant experiences in Oz that -- while Chris didn't mind acting silly to give the kids a laugh -- he hated being the butt of anyone's joke. Realizing that it was his turn to salvage their so-far ineffectual attempt at an afternoon quickie, he stepped forward, his hands settling on Chris's, their fingers automatically entwining. Reading frustration and embarrassment under the overt anger in the dark eyes, he felt the laughter slip away. He brushed his lips lightly, apologetically, over Chris's, feeling more than hearing the soft sigh of relief. Toby let out a low whimper as Chris eagerly slipped back into seduction mode: nipping carefully at Toby's kiss-swollen bottom lip before veering to the side, trailing his lips along the lightly stubbled jaw, then nuzzling contentedly at the crook of his neck and shoulder. After several languorous moments indulging in the knee-weakening caresses he specialized in -- a combination of lips, tongue and teeth that left Toby breathless -- Chris lifted his head, suckling briefly at a sensitive earlobe before whispering, "Maybe you're right; maybe we *should* take this inside," in a heated, yet slightly disappointed, tone. Dropping his lips to the tempting curve of Chris's neck, Toby mumbled his disagreement, grinning as the resulting vibration caused an almost inaudible gasp of pleasure. Keeping a firm grip on Chris's hands, he slowly kissed his way down the muscular curves of the enticingly responsive chest, pausing only briefly at the hollow of Chris's throat before making distinctly longer stops at each nipple. As Toby alternated between gossamer light caresses and slow, thorough mouthfucks, Chris felt each individual touch seemingly bypass his central nervous system and shoot directly to his groin. Hands trapped at his sides, he could only arch forward encouragingly as the loving torment continued. When his deep moans coalesced into a name, Toby looked up, eyes dancing with delight. Untangling their fingers and shifting his grip to nearly-bared hipbones, Toby knelt, rubbing his cheek possessively over Chris's stomach like an oversized feline. Slowly but surely tugging the resistent denim downward, he realized that, while undressing his lover was in some ways vastly different than peeling his youngest child out of puddle-soaked jeans, the principle was the same, and couldn't contain a small laugh. Meeting Chris's abashed gaze, he gathered the similarities weren't entirely lost on the other man either. His good humor restored by the simple act of being stripped to the skin, Chris grinned down at Toby, shifting first one foot and then the other, kicking the jeans aside. Embarrassment fading rapidly under the dual influence of wind and sun on his bare skin, he relished the feel of Toby's strong hands caressing his thighs, then groaned deep in his chest as Toby playfully traced the length of his erection with the tip of his tongue. "Oh God.... Toby... get the fuck back up here," Chris growled, reaching down and hauling his grinning lover to his feet. Off balance, Toby clutched at Chris's biceps, then jumped back like a scalded cat when Chris immediately hissed in pain. "What... oh, fuck," Toby said, belatedly remembering the welding injury. Taking Chris's arm, he peered intently at the angry red blister marking the spot a small piece of flaming metal had landed. "We should put something on that," he added, shooting Chris a look which clearly indicated that macho posturing would be a waste of time. "There's some of that aloe burn gel over by the torch," Chris said grudgingly, jerking his chin toward the welding equipment. Toby glanced over, then looked back at Chris, raising an eyebrow speculatively. Chris looked confused for a moment, then a lazy grin spread across his face. "You are a wicked, wicked man," he murmured, giving Toby a quick kiss before starting off on the short trip across the yard. Catching his forearm, Toby pulled him back, earning a puzzled frown. "*I'll* go. I still have pants on, ferchristsake." "Not for long," Chris called after him, laughing softly as Toby paused for a moment, then walked on just a little bit faster. *** Toby quickly made the circuit from play area to storage shed and back, then -- spurred on by the challenge in Chris's eyes -- bypassed his smug lover and walked directly back to the well-shaded area closest to the tree. Leaning back against the wide trunk, he rapidly undid his shorts and, consciously mimicking Chris's earlier actions, let them fall to his feet and kicked them aside. Feeling the heat of the midnight blue gaze sweep over him like a laser beam, he squeezed a generous portion of gel into his palm, then reached down and slowly fisted himself, sucking in his breath at the first touch of cool gel on overheated skin. A moment later his breath was stolen completely as he was immobilized between the solid bulk of the magnolia at his back and the equally unyielding mass of muscle and rigid flesh pressed fervently against his front. "Wait," he gasped, as Chris snatched away the tube of gel and slicked his own hand. He recoiled briefly from the anger that flashed for a moment in the narrowed eyes, then -- meeting fire with fire -- pulled his frustrated lover into a bruising kiss. When they parted, both men were panting, and Chris's temper had once again been sublimated to desire. Bringing their lips back together in the lightest of touches, Toby whispered, "Take care of your arm first." It took Chris a moment to process the words. The vision of Toby fucking himself, sky blue eyes slit half shut with pleasure, had driven all thoughts of his injury -- all thoughts of anything other than getting inside the other man -- from his mind. He obediently smeared the pale green ointment over the blister, moaning as Toby chose that moment to wrap his slick fist around Chris's erection and continue the slow, pumping action he'd used on himself. Medical needs attended to, Chris squeezed the tube one final time, then tossed it aside. With a possessive growl, he moved Toby's hand to his shoulder, then wrapped his own hands around Toby's hips and pulled the pale, compact body tight against him. Slippery fingers slid down and around, teasing only briefly before pressing inside. Chanting blasphemous obscenities into Chris's neck as he was slowly and thoroughly prepared, Toby cried out in surprise as strong hands gripped the back of his thighs and lifted him off the ground. Leaning his shoulders back hard against the tree, he wrapped his legs firmly around Chris's waist, whimpering at the sensation of rigid heat nudging at the entrance to his body. "Ready?" Chris panted. His face still buried in Chris's neck, Toby nodded, letting out a muffled groan as Chris slid forward, working his way in with a series of short, careful thrusts. Pausing for a moment once he was in as deep as he could go, Chris breathed Toby's name against the damp skin of his throat, needing to see his lover's face -- to know what he was feeling -- before he continued. Floating in a haze of pleasure, Toby lifted his head, lips moving delicately from rough cheek to eloquent eyebrow to dark-lashed eyelid as the long, deep strokes began. Balanced precariously between Chris and the tree, he didn't dare move much, but managed to slip one hand down between them, picking up Chris's rhythm while murmuring encouragement in a familiar hoarse whisper. Subliminally aware of their surroundings, he'd automatically reverted to the almost silent lovemaking they'd shared in Oz. Chris responded in kind, shallow breaths ending in almost pained groans marking the apex of each thrust. Arms trembling from the effort of holding Toby up, he began to move faster, driving himself closer to orgasm even as he heard Toby's breathing change, the low murmurs shifting to deep, keening moans. Sealing their lips together, Chris muffled the electrifying noises with a voracious kiss, sucking hard on Toby's tongue as he felt the tell-tale clench of muscles begin. Feeling something akin to lightening shoot through his body as wet pulses coated his stomach, Chris fed his own wordless cries back to Toby as he came. Dragging his mouth away, he sucked in deep breaths, letting Toby's legs slip from his grasp as he slumped forward into a loving, if sticky, embrace. *** As usual, it was Toby who broke the comfortable post-coital silence, muttering, "God, I can't believe you talked me into this." Noting that Toby sounded far more amused than annoyed, Chris didn't bother lifting his head, and instead just tilted it to the side before answering. He paused to lick the bead of sweat rolling down Toby's throat -- savoring the resulting shiver as much as the salty- sweet taste -- then purred, "Is that a complaint?" "Hell, no," Toby chuckled, tightening his grip as Chris made abortive moving-away motions. Rubbing his palms soothingly over still-trembling arms -- carefully avoiding the burn -- Toby leaned his head back against the tree and heaved a contented sigh. Glancing lazily around the yard, his gaze settled on the mystery that had drawn him out here in the first place. "Chris?" "Hmmmm?" Chris had learned long ago that once Toby's mind reengaged, there was very little chance of avoiding a conversation. "What were you working on?" "Huh?" "The welding. What are you making?" Toby blinked in shock as Chris pulled away from their sated embrace, then glared down at his wet jeans. "Nothing. So, you wanna go grab me somethin' to wear or have you gotten over your phobia about me giving the neighbors a free show? There's no way these are going back on anytime soon," he muttered, nudging at his discarded clothes with his foot. Startled by Chris's defensive reaction, Toby was silent for a moment, trying to figure out what new button he'd inadvertently pushed. He doubted it had anything to do with the injury -- 'no pain, no gain' was a key plank in the Keller platform -- or how he'd gotten it, since Chris certainly had no issues about clumsiness. On the contrary, the man seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to moving with sensual grace. Taking another look at the petulant expression on Chris's face, he decided that -- for the moment, anyway -- discretion would be the better part of valor. Adopting a casual tone, he stepped into his shorts while commenting, "Sure. I'll grab you a pair of sweats and be right back." *** Once in the house, Toby took the stairs two at a time, ducking into the master bath for a quick clean-up and to dampen a washcloth before rooting through Chris's drawers for some clean pants. Buried beneath a pile of sweats and other workout clothes, he found a small stack of paper -- thin sheets, like the type found in sketch pads. Pulling them out, he found a collection of drawings. Some were just rough sketches, but others were detailed plans, complete with to-scale measurements. A few were of abstract designs, but most were of the familiar crucifix pattern, like Chris's Vegas tattoo. And the welding project, he suddenly realized. Thinking back over the past couple of weeks, he could recall several occasions when he'd come upstairs to find Chris alone in the office, casually flipping through the shop book for the bike or staring out the window at the backyard below. Once he'd even commented on the pile of crumpled papers near Chris's chair, jokingly asking if they were shopping lists for the Harley. Toby frowned as he remembered how Chris had just shrugged, mumbled something about doodling and scooped them into the trash. He'd definitely stumbled onto some kind of button; it just hadn't come to fruition until today. Still puzzled over how to handle the situation, he left the sketches on top of the dresser and headed downstairs. It's not like he could just walk up to Chris and ask "why does me knowing you're talented piss you off?" -- at least not without risking a major cold front moving in. No, for now he'd just have to let it go... give Chris a chance to relax and distance himself from whatever demons had been awoken. Stepping out onto the porch, he found Chris stretched out on his back on the grass, hands tucked underneath his head, soaking up what was left of the sunlight. *** His skin alternately warmed by the late afternoon sun and chilled by the early spring breeze, Chris kept his eyes tightly shut and tried to force his chaotic mind to mirror his casual, relaxed pose. // What if he thinks it sucks? Or that it's stupid? Or a waste of money? Well... he doesn't think of much as a *waste* of money, but... we sure as hell could just buy.... // His thoughts were interrupted by the simultaneous sensations of warm thighs straddling his hips and a cool, damp cloth dropping onto his chest. Opening one eye, he saw Toby smiling down at him. "I thought you might want to get cleaned up a bit before getting dressed," Toby explained, slipping further down his legs and gently wiping the oddly colored mixture of sweat, semen and aloe gel from his chest and stomach. Confused by Toby's apparent willingness to ignore the foul mood he'd abruptly dropped into, Chris smiled back a little warily. As the anticipated questions went unasked and the soothing caresses continued, he began to genuinely relax, and was soon almost dozing. "Hey," Toby said, squeezing Chris's legs between his thighs. "Hmm?" Chris mumbled, keeping his eyes shut. "You goin' to sleep on me?" "Nah." "You sure?" "Yep." Opening his eyes, Chris winked, then added, "You're on top of me." Toby laughed, then stood, leaving the sweatpants on the grass next to Chris. "Come on inside. I'll nuke us some dinner and then you can help me ignore the IRS until the kids get home." "Sounds good." Sweats pulled halfway up his thighs and hips arched off the ground, Chris paused, squinted up at Toby and asked, "You got anything particular in mind?" Toby snorted and headed for the house, calling, "Nah, but... I wouldn't double knot those if I were you," over his shoulder. *** The number of knots in Chris's drawstring became a moot point when, just a few minutes after they'd settled unto the couch after a comfortably silent dinner, the two youngest Beechers arrived home. Harry excitedly filled his father in on all the new skating tricks he'd picked up, while Holly complained to a bemused Chris about Mrs. Williams's unusual habit of eating pizza with a knife and fork. "That's the way they do it in a lot of other countries," Chris commented when she wound down. "It is? How do you know?" "My old... uh... roommate told me. He reads a lot of travel magazines." "Your roommate in Oz?" Holly asked, capturing Harry's undivided attention. Chris cast a quick glance at Toby, who nodded. They'd talked about this when Chris had first been released. As long as the stories didn't get too graphic or, worse, too sterilized -- the last thing they wanted was Harry thinking anything about prison was 'cool' -- there didn't seem to be any harm in satisfying either child's curiousity about a place that was so much a part of their lives. "Yeah. After your dad left, I got a new roommate -- Ryan." Holly nodded and sat down on the arm of the couch, leaning against her father. She'd heard a little about the O'Reilly brothers. "Is he reading about where he's gonna go later?" Harry asked. Chris paused, then pulled Harry over to sit next to him. "Well, ya see, that's just it, sport. Ryan's never gonna get to go to any of those places because not ever gonna leave Oz." "Never?" Harry asked, eyes wide. "Not even if daddy..." "Harry," Toby interrupted, drawing his son's attention as Chris hid a grin. "Remember how I told you and Holly that both Chris and I did some bad things, but then we stopped?" "Uh huh." "Well, Ryan's not very good at stopping." Camouflaging his stifled laughter in a coughing fit, Chris stood and headed for the kitchen, faintly muttering something about needing a glass of water. *** Several hours later -- after heaping bowls of ice cream, a spirited game of tag-team chess, and the requisite tucking-in rituals, Toby and Chris locked up, turned off the lights and headed upstairs. While Chris headed into their bedroom, Toby continued down the hall to the office to shut down the computer and tuck the partially completed tax forms and unruly pile of receipts into his briefcase. "The hell with it," he mumbled. "I'll file for an extension and drop the whole mess off with dad's CPA next week." Hearing the water in the neighboring bathroom stop, he pictured Chris sauntering through the room and sliding into bed, skin pale against the dark background of their sheets. He smiled and left the office, looking forward to fulfilling the not-quite promise the children's early return had delayed. Toby's smile faded as he entered the bedroom and instead found Chris staring down at the dresser with a pensive look on his face. He padded forward, wrapping his arms around Chris from behind and dropping a kiss on the back of neck, silently offering support. When Chris turned in his arms and returned the embrace, he ventured a small grin, then commented, "They're good." Chris shrugged. "I suppose." Encouraged both by the response and the continued lack of tension in the muscular arms looped around him, Toby asked, "Where did you pick that up?" "Drafting class. It was pretty much the only thing I really got into in school. The teacher said it would be good for all kinds of shit -- architecture, engineering, graphic design. You know, *college* stuff... crap that's way outta the league of working class bums like me." Toby held his lover close, running his hands up and down the smooth back soothingly, briefly wondering which sick fuck from Chris's youth was responsible for that little gem. // Out of his league, my ass. // He opened his mouth to ask, then closed it again. Dwelling on details like who and when weren't likely to do much good right now, but he had a feeling he knew what might. *** Settling his hands low on Chris's hips, Toby started moving backwards, tugging him slowly towards the bed, scattering kisses along the soft skin stretched over his collarbones as they went. Feeling the edge of the bed against the back of his knees, Toby spun them around and let himself fall forward, pinning Chris to the mattress. Chris let out a startled 'oof' as they landed, then immediately found Toby's tongue in his mouth, muting any further commentary. Silenced, he shared his opinion of the presented agenda in typical Chris fashion -- latching on to Toby's ass with both hands and grinding his hips upward. Breaking off the kiss, Toby let his forehead rest on the mattress and turned his head to Chris's ear, whispering fiercely, "You know what, Chris? I've been to college... one of the best... and all those pricks? Hell, baby, *you're* out of *their* league." He nipped roughly at Chris's earlobe, getting a hiss and a moan in return. "Only half of them have your brains, and none of them -- not one -- has your balls." Before Chris could respond, Toby slid down his body and off the side of the bed, kneeling up so that his mouth rested dead center over the drawstring of the sweats. "Single knot?" he asked, looking up and feeling warmth run through his body in waves as a wealth of emotions glowed down at him from Chris's eyes. Pulling his slack jaw into a grin, but still not quite ready to attempt words, Chris nodded. Toby took one end of the drawstring in his teeth and slowly pulled, then nuzzled the loose knot the rest of the way apart with his nose, nibbling his way up Chris's stomach in the process. "Toby," Chris said softly. Circling Chris's navel with the tip of his tongue, Toby hummed distractedly in response. "Ya know, you don't gotta suck my dick everytime I get in a bad mood." Startled, Toby looked up, gratefully reading 90% playfulness and only 10% misguided worry in his lover's eyes. Crawling back onto the bed, he straddled Chris's body on his hands and knees before opting for a light-hearted approach. "Why not? If nothing else, it keeps me from talking too much." Reassured as much by Toby's willingness to joke as by the look in his eyes -- one that put any thoughts of 'pity fucks' to shame -- Chris reached up and gently traced the curve of Toby's lips with his finger, murmuring, "You got a point there, but I sure as hell can think of other uses for that mouth of yours right about now." Shifting to lean on his elbows, Toby smiled. He brushed his lips lightly across Chris's forehead, the bridge of his nose, his chin -- almost casually avoiding the full, wet lips waiting nearby, teasing them both. When Chris's hand wrapped around the back of his neck and pulled him down, he surrendered eagerly. "So," he panted when Chris briefly released him, "what *do* you want to do?" In response, Chris grinned wickedly and -- within seconds -- had Toby's shorts unbuttoned and pushed down to the middle of his thighs. When Toby would have moved to the side to remove them completely, Chris held him in place. "Nah," he whispered, his breath warm against Toby's lips, "like this. Like we used to." Reading pleased acquiescence in Toby's eyes, he quickly slipped his own pants down, groaning as slim hips were carefully lowered, trapping their already eager erections between their bodies. Toby rolled his hips slowly while capturing Chris's lips in an equally languid kiss. He backed off slightly each time Chris tried to take control, finding the low whimpers of impatience that escaped his lover's throat as erotic as they were plaintive. As the slick wetness of precum smoothed the way, he increased their pace, growling in satisfaction as Chris's legs twined with his, giving them the leverage they needed to drive their hips together harder...faster... until lights exploded behind his eyelids just seconds before he felt Chris's body stiffen, then jerk, beneath him. When his pulse had slowed and his brain had returned to something resembling coherence, Toby rolled to the side, then onto his back. Lifting his head with some effort, he glanced down at his stomach, wrinkling his nose. "Fuck. As nice as that was, you have to admit there are some distinct advantages to blow jobs." Laughing, Chris sat up halfway, then leaned over Toby, his tongue cutting a wide swatch through the swiftly cooling residue. "Yeah, but this way I kinda get the best of both worlds, ya know?" With a contented grin, he stood, licking his lips as he kicked off the sweats and sauntered toward the bathroom. A bemused smile on his face, Toby followed the enticing view until Chris left the room, then got up to join him, tossing both his shorts and Chris's pants toward the hamper in the corner. Chris met Toby at the door of the bathroom with a warm washcloth and an even warmer kiss, then headed back into the bedroom. Slipping under the covers, he rolled onto his back and tucked his hands underneath his head, grinning absently as he listened to the familiar, comforting sounds of Toby washing up and brushing his teeth. His eyes were just drifting shut when a quick draft blew in from the other side of the bed, followed closely by a head on his shoulder and an arm across his waist. Chilled feet pressed against his calves, causing him to jump. "Goddamn it, Toby! I love that mouth of yours, baby, but we gotta do something about your toes!" Toby stiffled a laugh against the curve of Chris's neck, obligingly moving the offending digits back towards his own side of the bed. "What?" Chris asked, draping an arm over Toby's back to ensure that the rest of his body stayed in place. "There's a word for that, you know, but I can't remember what it is at the moment." "For what?" Chris's tone was wary; he could feel Toby's lips twitching as he tried not to grin. "A toe fetish." "A toe... you fuck," Chris muttered, rolling them both over and digging his fingers into the most ticklish part of Toby's ribcage. He'd discovered it was a strategy that worked equally well with both father and son. "No! Chris... don't... I'm sorry, okay?" Toby gasped breathlessly, trying to simultaneously resist laughing and twist away, not having much success at either. "You're *gonna* be sorry," Chris growled, leaving off the tickling in favor of sucking hard on the love bite he'd left that morning under Toby's right ear. His body sated, Toby nevertheless felt a shiver run down his spine. "Mmmmm... yeah... sorry," he mumbled, shifting closer. Chris released him, laughing softly, leaning back far enough to look into slightly dazed and entirely contented blue eyes. Feeling just about in the same condition, he slid closer to the bottom of the bed and laid his head on Toby's chest, relaxing against him with a sigh as blunt fingers slipped into his hair, massaging gently. "Hey Toby," he murmured. "Yeah?" "If it turns out right, it's gonna be a lamp. I figured that if they like it, I'd make one for each of the kids, ya know, for their desks, and when they go off to school or whatever. Kinda like a guardian angel." He shrugged. "And if they don't, well, I guess it could go in a corner of the office or..." He trailed off, his own doubts weighing on him even more heavily than Toby's silence. "Chris," Toby whispered, swallowing the lump in his throat while tugging on Chris's shoulder to get him to look up. "They'll love it. In fact, you'd better plan on getting both done at the same time, unless you want a fight on your hands." "Yeah?" Chris asked, the grayness of worry fading from his eyes as a small smile curved his lips. "Yeah." After another brief kiss, Toby guided Chris's head back down to his chest, waiting until his breathing slowed and his body went slack before murmuring, "Damn it, Chris, don't you realize by now that *you're* our guardian angel?"