Out of Luck, Beecher/Browne, NC17
Title: Out of Luck
Beta:
ozsaur, my hero and shit
Pairing: Toby Beecher/Mondo Brown
Rating: NC17
Warnings: None
Spoilers: Through Season 4, Episode 6 - A Word to the Wise
Synopsis: Come on, Beecher. Suck my dick.
Word Count: 1047 words
Disclaimer: Don't own' em - not making any money off 'em. Dern it.
Notes: The first four lines of spoken dialogue are from A Word to the Wise, and were written by Tom Fontana, NOT me. The rest is all me.
It started out comment fic length, but then Ozsaur wanted more, and who am I to refuse my hero and shit, so she got more. What can I say.
Written for
smutday.
Out of Luck
“Come on, Beecher, suck my dick.”
Toby could feel Brown’s breath, warm on the back of his neck, and he suppressed a shudder. He stared up at Chris, who watched him sullenly from the floor above. ‘This is your choice,’ he told Chris silently. ‘This is what you wanted. Now we both have to live with it.’
“Jesus, you're such a romantic. That the way you talk to your women?” His eyes never left Chris’ watchful gaze, waiting for any kind of sign that he regretted his decision, waiting for him to shake his head, pound on the glass - but there was nothing. Chris just stared.
Behind him Brown laughed briefly. “Well, when I'm horny, the less talk the better.”
‘Your decision, Chris,’ Toby reminded him, reaching for the bottom of his t-shirt with one last glance at the still figure above him. ‘Your decision. Not mine.’
“Okay, lover boy,” Toby tossed his shirt to the floor and turned to Brown, “pucker up.”
Toby was surprised when Brown took his face in his hand, gripping his chin - one long finger following his jaw line. He tilted Toby’s head to the side and kissed him aggressively, his tongue pushing its way into Toby’s mouth, sloppy and wet.
He felt the urge to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand, but Brown pulled him toward the bunks and Toby followed, hands on Brown’s hips. He wanted to turn around, to see if Chris was still watching, but he didn’t. Chris had turned his back on Toby, and now Toby had turned his back on him. No second chances. Now Chris would see what he’d done.
He reached for Brown’s belt, unbuckling it and pushing down pants and underwear together. The belt buckle landed on the floor with a click as Brown sat down on his bunk and leaned back on his elbows, kicking his boots off along with his clothes.
“On your knees, Beecher.” Brown smirked at him. “Wrap that pretty mouth of yours around my dick and put that tongue to good use.”
Toby went to his knees, the concrete hard underneath them as he got his first real glimpse of Brown’s cock. Long and thick and half hard already, Toby wrapped his hand around the base and bent over it. He could smell the scent of sex on Brown - thick and musky - nothing at all like Chris. But that was good. He wanted this to be different from Chris, different enough to make him forget.
He stuck out his tongue and licked around the corona, then sucked lightly on the head. ‘Are you watching, Chris? This is for you.’ He opened his mouth wide and swallowed Brown’s cock down. He used every trick he learned from Chris, everything that bastard Schillinger had beaten into him, used it all to get Brown off - to give him the best ride he’d ever had. Chris would hear nothing but praise about his cock-sucking skills.
Brown didn’t make a lot of noise, but it was still easy enough to figure out what worked and what didn’t. Toby took his balls in his free hand and squeezed them gently, rolling them, tugging lightly. Toby focused on his task, using everything he had - his tongue, his lips, his hands - and worked Brown like the pro that he was.
He concentrated on the little bundle of nerves at the bottom of the head, and when Brown started to move his hips in time to his flickering tongue, Toby thought ‘finally.’ Finally he was getting somewhere. But then Brown grabbed Toby’s head, pulling him off his dick with a wet, sucking sound. He looked up at Brown, and wrinkled his brow in question.
Brown pushed him far enough away that he could stand, then pointed to the bunk. “On your belly, Beecher. I’m gonna fuck that lily white ass of yours.” Toby sighed and stood up to take off his pants. He’d been hoping to avoid this, at least for tonight, but it looked like he’d run out of luck.
He laughed to himself. What the hell was he thinking? He’d run out of luck the day he'd run over Cathy Rockwell. Everything that had happened since was just one long slippery slope that pulled him deeper and deeper into hell. This was just one more low spot on the trail. Not even the lowest one. This was a fucking piece of cake compared to that first night with Schillinger.
And maybe, just for a while, he could lose himself, forget - even if just for a few minutes. He’d settle for that. A chance to wipe the slate clean for even a short time would make it worth while. Whatever he had to do. And tomorrow - well, he’d deal with tomorrow when the hacks yelled count.
Toby lay down on the scratchy blanket, shuddering for just a moment as the coarse weave scraped across the sensitive skin of his cock and balls, his upper thighs. But he didn’t complain. A distraction was a distraction, no matter what it was. He watched as Brown pulled lube out from under his pillow and smeared it on his fingers as he knelt on the bunk between Toby’s spread legs.
Brown paused for a moment, staring at his fingers, the slick lube glistening as he ran his thumb over them. He dropped the lid when he tried to put it back on the tube, and Toby rolled his eyes and grabbed the lube from him, squeezing a generous dollop onto his fingers before reaching back and preparing himself. He wasn’t about to let this dolt near him until he was nice and loose.
“Put that on your cock.”
Brown didn’t move, he just watched as Beecher pushed in a second finger, fascinated and repelled at the same time if the look on his face was any indication.
“Put the lube on your cock, Mondo.”
Brown started. “Oh, right.” He smeared the lube over his own dick, never taking his eyes off Beecher’s hand. As Beecher pushed in with a third finger, twisting and stretching, Beecher scowled back at Brown.
“You *have* done this before, haven’t you?”
“Huh? Well yeah. Just not with a guy.”
Toby snorted. Great. This was going to be a long night.
~
Beta:
ozsaur, my hero and shit
Pairing: Toby Beecher/Mondo Brown
Rating: NC17
Warnings: None
Spoilers: Through Season 4, Episode 6 - A Word to the Wise
Synopsis: Come on, Beecher. Suck my dick.
Word Count: 1047 words
Disclaimer: Don't own' em - not making any money off 'em. Dern it.
Notes: The first four lines of spoken dialogue are from A Word to the Wise, and were written by Tom Fontana, NOT me. The rest is all me.
It started out comment fic length, but then Ozsaur wanted more, and who am I to refuse my hero and shit, so she got more. What can I say.
Written for
smutday.
Out of Luck
“Come on, Beecher, suck my dick.”
Toby could feel Brown’s breath, warm on the back of his neck, and he suppressed a shudder. He stared up at Chris, who watched him sullenly from the floor above. ‘This is your choice,’ he told Chris silently. ‘This is what you wanted. Now we both have to live with it.’
“Jesus, you're such a romantic. That the way you talk to your women?” His eyes never left Chris’ watchful gaze, waiting for any kind of sign that he regretted his decision, waiting for him to shake his head, pound on the glass - but there was nothing. Chris just stared.
Behind him Brown laughed briefly. “Well, when I'm horny, the less talk the better.”
‘Your decision, Chris,’ Toby reminded him, reaching for the bottom of his t-shirt with one last glance at the still figure above him. ‘Your decision. Not mine.’
“Okay, lover boy,” Toby tossed his shirt to the floor and turned to Brown, “pucker up.”
Toby was surprised when Brown took his face in his hand, gripping his chin - one long finger following his jaw line. He tilted Toby’s head to the side and kissed him aggressively, his tongue pushing its way into Toby’s mouth, sloppy and wet.
He felt the urge to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand, but Brown pulled him toward the bunks and Toby followed, hands on Brown’s hips. He wanted to turn around, to see if Chris was still watching, but he didn’t. Chris had turned his back on Toby, and now Toby had turned his back on him. No second chances. Now Chris would see what he’d done.
He reached for Brown’s belt, unbuckling it and pushing down pants and underwear together. The belt buckle landed on the floor with a click as Brown sat down on his bunk and leaned back on his elbows, kicking his boots off along with his clothes.
“On your knees, Beecher.” Brown smirked at him. “Wrap that pretty mouth of yours around my dick and put that tongue to good use.”
Toby went to his knees, the concrete hard underneath them as he got his first real glimpse of Brown’s cock. Long and thick and half hard already, Toby wrapped his hand around the base and bent over it. He could smell the scent of sex on Brown - thick and musky - nothing at all like Chris. But that was good. He wanted this to be different from Chris, different enough to make him forget.
He stuck out his tongue and licked around the corona, then sucked lightly on the head. ‘Are you watching, Chris? This is for you.’ He opened his mouth wide and swallowed Brown’s cock down. He used every trick he learned from Chris, everything that bastard Schillinger had beaten into him, used it all to get Brown off - to give him the best ride he’d ever had. Chris would hear nothing but praise about his cock-sucking skills.
Brown didn’t make a lot of noise, but it was still easy enough to figure out what worked and what didn’t. Toby took his balls in his free hand and squeezed them gently, rolling them, tugging lightly. Toby focused on his task, using everything he had - his tongue, his lips, his hands - and worked Brown like the pro that he was.
He concentrated on the little bundle of nerves at the bottom of the head, and when Brown started to move his hips in time to his flickering tongue, Toby thought ‘finally.’ Finally he was getting somewhere. But then Brown grabbed Toby’s head, pulling him off his dick with a wet, sucking sound. He looked up at Brown, and wrinkled his brow in question.
Brown pushed him far enough away that he could stand, then pointed to the bunk. “On your belly, Beecher. I’m gonna fuck that lily white ass of yours.” Toby sighed and stood up to take off his pants. He’d been hoping to avoid this, at least for tonight, but it looked like he’d run out of luck.
He laughed to himself. What the hell was he thinking? He’d run out of luck the day he'd run over Cathy Rockwell. Everything that had happened since was just one long slippery slope that pulled him deeper and deeper into hell. This was just one more low spot on the trail. Not even the lowest one. This was a fucking piece of cake compared to that first night with Schillinger.
And maybe, just for a while, he could lose himself, forget - even if just for a few minutes. He’d settle for that. A chance to wipe the slate clean for even a short time would make it worth while. Whatever he had to do. And tomorrow - well, he’d deal with tomorrow when the hacks yelled count.
Toby lay down on the scratchy blanket, shuddering for just a moment as the coarse weave scraped across the sensitive skin of his cock and balls, his upper thighs. But he didn’t complain. A distraction was a distraction, no matter what it was. He watched as Brown pulled lube out from under his pillow and smeared it on his fingers as he knelt on the bunk between Toby’s spread legs.
Brown paused for a moment, staring at his fingers, the slick lube glistening as he ran his thumb over them. He dropped the lid when he tried to put it back on the tube, and Toby rolled his eyes and grabbed the lube from him, squeezing a generous dollop onto his fingers before reaching back and preparing himself. He wasn’t about to let this dolt near him until he was nice and loose.
“Put that on your cock.”
Brown didn’t move, he just watched as Beecher pushed in a second finger, fascinated and repelled at the same time if the look on his face was any indication.
“Put the lube on your cock, Mondo.”
Brown started. “Oh, right.” He smeared the lube over his own dick, never taking his eyes off Beecher’s hand. As Beecher pushed in with a third finger, twisting and stretching, Beecher scowled back at Brown.
“You *have* done this before, haven’t you?”
“Huh? Well yeah. Just not with a guy.”
Toby snorted. Great. This was going to be a long night.
~