Oz fic: The education of Tobias Beecher
Beecher/Keller, almost.
For a few years Toby Beecher trailed behind Christopher Keller like a trained puppy. He was a sensitive, clever, introverted teenager. His parents trusted him to be a good boy, behave and everything comforted them in their opinion. He excelled at school; he was polite and nice to everyone. He looked younger than fourteen, slight and angelic looking with innocent clear blue eyes and golden locks dancing around his face.
But every moment he could get away he rode his bike across the streets, down the bridge and along the railroad track, leaving the rich suburbs behind to reach the fields near the disused factories. On the way he bought what he was supposed to. Cigarettes, soft drinks, chocolate and whatever struck his fancy. Not for him; Toby didn’t smoke and he had whatever else he wanted home. But Chris was poor - very much so. He sometimes pretended he would repay Toby but Toby didn’t want that. What he wanted was to be with Chris, for as long as Chris allowed him to. He was afraid to be found boring or stupid and did his best to live up to what he supposed were Chris’ expectations.
Chris was unhappy. After his mother’s death, he had been placed in foster care. But Chris was fifteen. He was difficult and rough and untamable. Every time he could he ran away, jumped on a bus and rode to the factories where Toby joined him. He could listen to Toby for hours; the guy lived in what felt to Chris like an exotic place where people lived a life he knew very little of. Besides, Toby’s obvious admiration was good for his ego. Besides Toby never came empty handed and Chris had come to rely on him for some of the things he could not afford. For an hour or two they talked, played base-ball, rode Toby’s bike on makeshift circuit. Toby was the closest thing to a friend Chris would ever know. He kept the base-ball glove and the ball Toby had bought for him like a treasure, hiding it from everyone.
Toby never dared call Chris Keller a friend. Chris obviously belonged to some superior species. Somehow he was the sort of boy his father would like. Tall, muscular. A man already. Harrison Beecher, unaware of the damages he was causing, often teased his son about his physique. Toby had come to believe that he would never be as tall, as strong and solid as his father. He would never be possessed with so much quiet authority. Chris had all that and more. He was also handsome and from the tales he told Toby sometimes, he seemed to leave a much more interesting life. There were girls and stolen kisses, fights, records stolen from the nearest store and although Toby knew it was wrong he admired Chris for his boldness.
The satisfying deal lasted for three years. More cigarettes, less chocolate and some beer. Chris became more blasé. He roughened Toby a bit sometimes but Toby only laughed because he had finally realized how badly life mistreated Chris. It was an intuition more than evidence, gathered along the years from some remarks Chris made, unintentionally most of the time. It made Toby angry against those who hurt Chris.
Toby was fifteen when Chris vanished from his life. One day he stopped coming to the factories, just like that. Toby thought he would never see him again. His fears had become real; Chris had lost interest in his too young too sweet-looking, dull friend. He had found others, probably older and more daring. For a whole year Toby’s life lost its shine. He stopped going to the factories and spent his days at the bowling or at the movies. He took up smoking but never quite got the hang of it, so he gave up. Drinking though was a pleasant surprise; being just a bit intoxicated provided him with unknown confidence and courage. At sixteen he wanted to date Kelly Thompson. She was the hottest girl in college and one year older than him. He did not dare make the first move and even a glass of his father’s scotch didn’t help. That day he took the old bike and rode to the theater to take his mind of her. He stopped his bike at the corner of the building, not trusting his eyes, his heart beating wildly.
Chris was standing near the main entrance, talking with the pretty girl who worked there. Toby’s first idea was to run to him but then he held back. Maybe it was not the best moment. Maybe Chris did not want to see him. Maybe Chris had forgotten him. He probably had. So he waited and when Chris finally left, Toby followed, looking for the best way to approach him. He thought himself discreet enough although the bike didn’t help, of course, but at a traffic light Chris stopped abruptly and turned, scanning the crowd. Knowing he was followed. Toby wanted to hide but Chris’ gaze paralyzed him.
“Why didn’t you just come up to me?” Chris asked later while they were devouring hamburgers in a tiny restaurant.
Toby shrugged. “You looked busy.”
Chris laughed. “Yeah, I was. Chatting up the girl. Still, I’m fucking happy to see you.”
Toby looked down, not trusting himself to talk and after a minute of uncomfortable silence Chris talked. “I was in prison,” he said out of the blue. “For 10 months. I could not tell you. I don’t even have your address. That’s why.”
Toby put his glass down. “What? Prison? But…”
“Something I didn’t do. I was charged with armed robbery.” Chris shrugged. “Armed robbery; can you believe that? I suppose it was easier to sentence me than the rich prick who did it. Sorry. Nothing to do with you, Beecher.”
Chris had changed. Hardened. He called him Beecher. No more Toby. It was both flattering and a bit sad. Chris looked so much more… adult. Any softness he’d once had was gone. Hard gaze, hard set of mouth, hard laugh. Stubbly jaw, for God’s sake. Whatever had happened in prison had caused that.
“It’s unfair,” Toby said. “When I’m a lawyer I’ll change that.”
“Yeah? Will you? I hope I won’t need a lawyer, though. One time is enough.”
Whatever had happened had been bad. Something in Chris’ voice gave away the pain.
“Hey,” Chris said. “Tell me about you.”
“There’s a girl,” Toby said, aware that the descriptions of his sheltered life would have lost any appeal to this new Chris. “I’m not so sure about what to do…”
Chris listened, ordered a second meal, obviously ravenous. He did that well, listening. He didn’t interrupt. He didn’t laugh at Toby or smile when Toby blushed. And when Toby stopped talking he kept silent for a moment before saying, “Want me to show you the ropes? Kissing and stuff?”
Toby thought he would never recover. He sat there, his mouth open. Stunned.
“Hey, you’re younger than me, Beecher. I know things you don’t yet. You don’t have a big brother to help you out. Make your education. I’d like that.”
Remembering that day, sitting in the library in Harvard, Toby wondered how he’d managed to be so incredibly naïve and stupid. A fool.
He let Chris kiss him. It happened at the movie. No one around and the movie was boring enough.
“Come on,” Chris whispered in his ear. “You take her hand.” A strong warm paw closed around Toby’s hand, pressing softly. “Like this.” Then Chris scooted closer, threw an arm around Toby’s shoulders, keeping his eyes on the screen. “Relax,” he said, “I’m not going to hurt you.” A mere dark whisper in Toby’s ear and he shivered.
It seemed unbelievable, seen from an older Toby’s point of view, that he had not protested, walked away. At the same time, even the older Toby remembered why he had not; shyness, anxiety and a weird feeling of excitement that made his heart beat faster.
He felt Chris turn, felt his hand cupping his jaw, the sleek move and warm lips on his. The wonderful sensation. When Chris’ tongue brushed against his lips, Toby shivered. He opened his mouth willingly and learned what a kiss was - from the best. He remembered that very clearly. Clinging to Chris for dear life. Kissing back.
Chris seemed in no hurry to break it and Toby was too far gone to mind.
“Got it?” Chris asked and Toby nodded. “Good. One more to make sure.”
He’d been kissed throughout the whole movie until he was so aroused he did not even dare move.
Chris had known from the very beginning where it was heading. He’d been out of Lardner for two months, trying hard to forget and resume a normal life - well, as normal as he could anyway. Vern had got him a job at his brother’s garage as a mechanic. Chris hated Vern for what he’d done to him, hated his brother, hated the fucking job but all the same he went there every day. Sometimes he visited Vern in prison and brought him some treat from his brother. He had no choice. Prison had scared him too much to take any risk. He would not go back. After two months of freedom though the anger and the shame were still there eating him alive.
So Beecher, his golden hair, upturned nose, clear blue eyes and tentative smile, had been the perfect one at the moment. Got some food inside Chris, stroked his ego the right way, admitted he’d missed him and then the movie. The kiss. Fuck how could a boy be that innocent? He tried to picture Beecher in Lardner. Picture Beecher with good old Vern. Imagine what the sadistic fuck would do with him. Jesus fucking Christ; it didn’t bare thinking about. Beecher loved to be kissed; he was genuinely shameless. And a quick learner. “I’m gonna show you something girls can do for you,” Chris said. They were alone; two young guys watching a boring movie. He’d slid down to the floor, kneeling in front of Toby who was flushed and breathing hard.
“I don’t think…” Beecher had said.
“Shut up and let me show you.” A couple of seconds to yank down the jeans and what a surprise… Beecher was naked underneath. “Going commando?” Chris had said lightly. “Something wrong at Beecher’s house?”
“I… I just wanted to give it a try. A friend of mine says it feels good.”
Jesus. What kind of friend says this? Rich guy’s whim.
Beecher was nicely hung; he tasted good. Keller made the best of Vern’s lesson, swallowing the swollen cock entirely, his hands on Beecher’s hips to stop him from moving and sucked him off mercilessly, keeping him on the edge of pleasure for as long as he could and swallowing every drop when Beecher had come. The boy was a true delight.
“The girl who does that to you? Marry her.”
But Beecher had married Gen, which was a major error. That was much later of course.
They spent the whole day together, until Toby had to go home. “Homework,” he said, and Chris laughed, hugged him and walked away.
They met again, from time to time. Chris had a small apartment downtown. They resumed an awkward friendship. Drinks - Beecher had a liking for those, music, movies, video games. They never talked about the kiss and the blowjob again. What had happened there staid there. Once though Toby told Chris that kissing Kelly had not been all that thrilling. He sounded disappointed. Chris stared at him, trying to read those soulful eyes and finding only sincere dismay there. No ulterior motives. “Come on, Beecher,” he said with a smile. “You’ll find the right one, trust me on that.”
Two more years and Toby left for University. That time he lost Chris for good.
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