Sinking 06/10 - Oz: Beecher/Murphy
Sinking
by Dr Squidlove
drsquidlove@livejournal.com
Beecher didn't fuck up his parole buying drugs for Bonnie. Yay, everything is awesome! Only... he's maybe not handling his parole as well as other people think he is. Meanwhile, Sean Murphy's been pining after Tim McManus for too damned long. Even so, the two of them hooking up for a blow job is about the worst idea possible.
Beecher/Murphy, with sidelines in Beecher/Keller and McManus/Murphy
Rated R for considerable amounts of fucking.
Wordcount this chapter: 3362
Total wordcount: 29 000-ish
Oz and all its characters are the property of Tom Fontana and HBO. I make no profit, and intend as little infringement as I possibly can.
Sinking 6/10
by Dr Squidlove
In chapter 5, after Keller mysteriously ditched visiting day for a trip to the Hole, Sean made the sensible choice to keep away from Toby. Instead Sean went out for beers with Tim, and remembered just how lovely it was to have drunken Tim cuddling up to him in the cab. At least until Tim started prodding Sean about his love life and worrying that Sean thought he was a homophobe. Sean resisted the urge to crack onto his straight best friend which was lucky because if Tim came home he would have tripped over Toby, who was sitting on Sean's front step in the rain, drunk and high.
Beecher kissed Sean this time, and that seemed like a dangerous road into Beecher's emotional swamp, but Sean had abandoned the last of his good sense. And now there was actual fucking, too. Really amazing fucking. And now they're on first name basis. Jesus wept, Sean, what are you doing?
Afterwards, Toby seemed to think he was welcome to hang around and drink Sean's instant coffee.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
There was something outrageously fucked up about the way Sean savoured the twinge in his ass with every step down the stairs from the control desk. Chris Keller was waiting for Rebadow and Busmalis to stop yakking and deal the next hand of cards, his face resting in that look of bored amusement he favoured.
That sharp reminder of Toby ran hot through his blood as he strolled past the oblivious Keller. He wanted to tell him... something. Drop some smart-ass line to make his head whip around and the jealousy explode. It'd be some show.
Sean was nuts. He forced his eyes forward as he headed out of the unit.
And he was an asshole. Toby was an emotional wreck, and Sean was riding him like a rollercoaster.
Years of pining for Tim had left Sean feeling sexless, like some kind of goddamn eunuch. He knew fucking Toby was bad, but he felt alive. He felt sexual and dangerous. He needed put a stop to it. Or at least he needed to figure out what was going on in Toby's brain.
Sean was headed for Glynn's office, but it was only a small detour to find Sister Pete, alone at her desk.
"Sean! What can I do for you?" She was looking over her glasses, expecting some random note about a prisoner.
"Ain't nothin', Sister. I was just... passing by, thought I'd stick my head in."
"Oh?" Already her suspicion was turned to full.
Sean guessed he didn't have Beecher's bullshitting skills. God, he shouldn't be here. "I'll just-"
"Come in then. You can spare a few minutes, can't you?"
"Uh, sure." Sean shuffled in, hands resting on his belt. He'd never been in here. Collected or delivered prisoners once or twice, but even that wasn't usually his job. It was surprisingly normal-looking, like she could have been counselling average Joes off the street. "You must hear some stories in here, Sister. I'm guessing you could turn my hair white."
Sister Pete smiled. "I probably could, at that."
Sean had seen and heard plenty over the years, but he'd never heard anyone's confessions or innermost thoughts. He wouldn't have taken on Pete's job for all the money in the world. It was enough just getting the handle to figure out what hijinks they were gonna pull next, without burrowing into the darkest corners of their fucked-up brains.
He wondered what Toby had told her, when he was in here.
"You know, Sean, I can't ever remember seeing you stuck for something to say." She put her chin in her hand and waited.
What the hell could he tell her? That he let Toby fuck him? No. That he was friends with Toby? For starters, it was a lie, and for seconds that'd lead her to figure out the fucking part. She may have had a blind spot for Beecher, but she wasn't stupid.
She looked worried, now. "Do we need to make this official, Sean? Anything you say would be in confidence."
Sean shook his head. "I shouldna come. I gotta get back to work."
"Sean..."
"Thanks, Sister."
Sean beat it the hell out of there, back to the safety of Em City. She couldn't help him. He knew what he needed to do. Next time Toby showed up, Sean was just gonna say no.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Sean had opened the door to find Toby with blown pupils and a raging hard-on, looking like he hadn't shaved in a week, and Sean hadn't bothered to pretend he needed to be seduced. They humped each other all the way to Sean's bed, clothes yanked off without ceremony. It was a week since Toby fucked Sean, and Sean wanted to touch all the hard planes of Toby's body, feel nails scratch through the hair on his chest. He wanted to remember the intimacy of fucking while he was high, back before mandatory testing ruled out the occasional Sunday lie-in with a spliff. He drank in the dazed warmth in Toby's eyes, the fuzzy smile, and sucked a path over Toby's chest, and down. Whatever Toby was on right now, Sean had never fucked on that.
He'd been living mostly dry, pining for Tim the last three (or thirty) years, six years before that in a relationship no one was gonna be writing any songs about, and It felt like some kind of miracle that anyone was this excited about getting Sean's clothes off. It felt so good to be naked and hungry, and hungered for
Less than three minutes after he opened the door, Sean had his mouth stuffed full of Beecher's cock. Toby was sprawling across the bed, boneless except for his hands in Sean's hair, tugging Sean down, and his hips thrusting up. Fucking Sean's face and Sean liked it. Sean pushed his breathing to match Toby's rhythm, opened his throat and rode it out, let Toby's hunger turn his own cock to steel.
He reached under to cup that fantastic ass, squeezing it shamelessly, dry fingers wandering back, testing the way to that pinched little hole. Toby let out a "Yeah," that sounded receptive enough so Sean lightly pressed in time for a few more strokes before he pulled off and flipped him over, ready to bury his tongue in there, get Toby begging for a fuck. But there it was, Vern Schillinger's little Kilroy doodle burned into his skin. This man had been raped. In Oz.
The scar was no secret but Sean had never seen it like this, the rough edges of a slow-etched burn, a brutal mark to remind Toby and anyone who touched him ever after that Tobias Beecher had been owned and abused. Sean's fingers itched to touch it but he curled them into a fist and rubbed his prickly jaw over the other cheek instead.
"I'm sure Vern could give you one if you asked real nice." There was a dangerous edge in his voice, the kind of edge that reminded Sean he probably had a shiv somewhere in reach.
"I'll pass, thanks."
"If you wanna fuck me I'd suggest you keep going."
Right. Sean rubbed his hands up to Toby's ass and spread it wide, took a good look at the promised land before he licked his way up the crack and settled in, relaxing a little at Toby's quiet "Fuck yeah." Toby lifted his hips and pushed back, squirming on Sean's face, couldn't fight the little sounds Sean was licking out of him. Now, though, Sean's head was filled with all the thoughts he usually tried to avoid. He tongued Toby's tight asshole and wondered, had Keller had to coax and comfort Toby to get his cock in here the first time? Was Chris Keller capable of that kind of tenderness? Sean imagined Keller spreading Toby's legs like this, his sharp pink tongue wriggling its way into a body locked tight in remembered terror, on a bunk that squeaked just the same as the one Vern fucked him on. Said's good Muslim forgiveness was one thing; how did a guy like Toby go about making his body forget the man invading him was once in league with the scumbag who violated him for months? Sorry I broke your arms, Toby, can I shove my dick up you now? Was it a slow seduction, sweet words and heavy petting, or did Keller just sweep in with the power of sex and have his way? Or maybe Mineo was right, and Toby had just been debasing himself.
Chris had been in the Hole again Wednesday, but this time Toby hadn't even shown up. Sean didn't know what was going on with that.
How do you sink lower than screwing the man who broke your arms and legs?
By getting on your knees for a CO. Is that what's getting you off, Toby?
Sean growled and pushed inside. Toby was open now, writhing around on Sean's mouth like a slut, making more noise than he had before. More noise than he ever could have made with Keller.
"You want it, Toby?"
"Fuck yes. Fuck me. Please, baby. Fuck me." Toby kept repeating it into the pillow as Sean fumbled a rubber out of the drawer and onto his straining cock, slicked up fast and lined it up and Christ, Christ, it had been too long. He was fighting not to come before he got his cock halfway in, Toby's slick ass clenching around him, that broken breathless voice begging for more. "So good, baby."
Sean knew who 'baby' was, and it wasn't him. It hardly mattered; Sean didn't want any kind of special place in Toby's heart. He closed his eyes and tried to pretend this was Tim bent over and taking it, Tim finally done with slutting around with women and offering Sean his pale virgin ass, but Sean couldn't climb into the fantasy. He couldn't imagine Tim like this. His eyes were locked on the shine of slick across the sharp white swastika just an inch from his breaching dick.
His stupid reptile brain was happier with with the drugged-up ex-con boyfriend of a serial killer. Sean pushed the last couple of inches home and his balls got tighter when he thought about walking by Keller's pod tomorrow with this memory of his cock splitting Toby's ass fresh in his memory. Tighter still when he thought of sitting in Tim's office distracted yet again by another night of incredible, dangerous fucking. Sean's cock didn't want to forget this delicious heat was Toby Beecher. Maybe Tim could barge in right now and discover Sean wasn't the boring, rule-toeing officer everybody thought he was.
"You like my cock in you, Toby?"
"Come on baby. Come on."
Sean pulled out and thrust in hard enough to drive the breath out of him. "Is that how you want it?"
"Fuck me. Take me."
Yeah, he would. Sean wished he had a pill of whatever Toby had the other day that kept him hard for hours. This was going to be an embarrassment in comparison.
He slid his hands over sweating skin to Toby's ass, let a thumb drag over the brand as he spread Toby wider, all the better to watch his cock shoving in and sliding out again. No guy should like a pounding like this but Toby kept urging him on. A sober corner of Sean's brain said he was maybe too high right now to feel anything but pleasure. Too high maybe to remember where he was or who was doing the reaming. He'd feel it tomorrow.
Sean let go, thrust like his cock wanted and Toby drank it up. Sweet animal fucking. All the muscles of Toby's body flexed as he shoved back, twisting under the sheen of his skin while he growled like an animal and Sean growled right back.
They were slamming together and the pace was already wearing him out but he couldn't get enough, couldn't get enough of this view of his slicked sheathed cock sliding into that stretched hole and dragging out again, the way Toby lifted to meet him, the sweet perfect friction, the freedom of selfishly pounding away in a hot tight ass, and suddenly it was too much, and Sean doubled over as he seized up, vision flooding white, Toby's body wrenching the come out of him. Sean barely had the brain to reach for Toby's cock to bring him along, clumsy-handed as his own throbbed to empty, and he was just spilling his last when Toby's ass locked down and Sean couldn't do anything but gasp, riding it out until Toby collapsed under him.
Sean stayed where he was on his hands and knees, panting and aching like a forty-something who needed to get to the gym a little more often. He slid off the condom and pitched it into the trash. Rubbed a hand through his sweaty hair. Sobriety always came too fast after Sean got off.
He flopped on the bed, face half-pressed into the pillow. "What's this about, Toby?"
Toby rolled to face him, eyebrows lifted more in curiosity than surprise. His pupils were still swollen dark, and there was bliss in his expression that was down to more than the white puddle on the sheet between them .
It felt good to say it. Sean wasn't going to be Toby's fool, even if some part of him was aching for more of whatever he'd just had. He didn't want it from fucking Beecher.
"You think I know?" He said it with a shrug, and Sean almost believed it.
"I ain't Chris."
Toby's voice hardened. "I know that." He sat up, making a face that said he was going to be feeling the echo of Sean's cock in his ass for a while. "Chris won't see me."
"He was in the Hole."
"He sent me a letter. Seeyalater, don't come back."
That explained a whole lot of shit.
Toby rubbed a hand roughly through his hair, across his eyes. "Something's wrong."
The thread of fear that had tickled Sean's gut since he first saw Toby in the bar five weeks ago turned, and rolled into a little knot. "Maybe he's trying to help you."
"Fuck that. Something's wrong. He's angry with me, and I don't know what I did. I have to make it up to him." Suddenly he swung a leg over to straddle Sean's hips. "I need you to talk to him."
"Me?" This was bad.
"Please."
"So whaddya expect me to do? Stick my head in his cell and say 'Hey, Keller, want me to pass on a message while I'm fucking your boyfriend?'"
"I'd rather you told him I fucked you." Toby ground his balls against Sean's soft cock, met Sean's incredulous look with a calm smile. "Maybe not. Chris didn't take too well to the last couple of guys I fucked."
Ice formed in Sean's veins. "What the hell does that mean?"
"Probably just what you think it does."
Sean jerked up. "Jesus... Why did you tell me that? Jesus Christ, Toby, why the fuck would you tell me that?" Keller killed them. Keller murdered two men in Oz, under Sean's watch, and now Sean knew what would happen if Chris found out he'd been fucking Toby. "Who?"
Was it a threat?
Toby cut him a look, and slid his hands over Sean's chest like he was working up to round two.
Sean wanted to throw him off and get some space but he wasn't sure his legs would hold him right now. Toby was a fuck of a lot more dangerous than Sean was. "Why the fuck did you tell me that?"
"Because you're going to talk to Chris, and you're going to make him realise he needs to see me. He's the least fucked-up thing in my life and I have to see him."
"Fuck you seeing him, Toby; you just told me Keller killed men you fucked."
"I didn't say that."
"Yeah, you just did!"
"I never said any such thing."
Not the exact words, no. Goddamn lawyer.
Toby leaned in his face, weight on Sean's chest, eyes bright and dangerous. "You gonna tell the cops I confessed while my ass was still raw from you fucking me?"
"How am I supposed to keep that to myself?"
"I guess the same way you keep your mouth shut when men get beaten and raped under your watch every day."
Sean clenched his fists. "They haven't yet invented the Hallmark card for you and Keller."
Toby's mouth twisted, amused and bitter. "That's true. But I'll bet the sum of the Beecher fortune against your sad little bank account, that you're never in your whole life going to be loved the way Chris loves me. Or the way I love him." He leaned closer still, whispered in Sean's ear. "Hell, Sean, does anyone love you at all?"
"Fuck you, Toby."
"Already, you big stallion?"
Sean rubbed his face. "Christ."
He finally pushed Toby off and got to his feet. Here it was, the storm he'd seen bearing down from the beginning, and now he was in the middle of Toby and Keller, and he was fucked.
"You don't think this is a job for Sister Pete?"
Toby stood on the other side of the bed. "You really think she's gonna fight for Chris? She'd have me walk away and forget all about him. And I don't want her in his sights again, anyway."
"You really know how to sweet talk a guy." Sean had to get out of this gracefully. "He ain't gonna talk to me. He'll think it's a set-up."
Toby pressed his lips in a thin line, thinking. "He won't be able to help himself if he knows you're coming from me. You have to tell him something. Tell him... Tell him when I was fifteen, I stole a bra from a store."
"A bra. As in like, a woman's brassiere?"
Toby actually blushed. "It was a dare. And Chris never laughed so hard as the day I told him that. He'll remember."
"I'll bet he remembers." Sean almost chuckled, until he remembered Toby was in the middle of blackmailing him. "You really are fucking crazy."
"Certifiable."
Sean blinked. "You believe it, don't you? That you're crazy?"
"Didn't you hear? I took a shit on somebody's face."
Yeah, Sean heard that. "You want me to run a poll on how many guys in Oz would love to take a shit on Vern Schillinger's face?"
Toby smiled, sudden and easy, an ordinary guy. "I did get more than one high five out of that one." He reached for his clothes, started shrugging them on. Sean was taken aback by the sudden wish that Toby would stay. Stick around awhile and be this guy, not the prickly con.
"You should let him go. You've got a second chance. Start a new life."
Toby came around and dumped his armful of clothes on the bed. "You didn't think I'd choose you over him, did you? This isn't some grand romance, Murphy."
"I never thought it was." And it wasn't like Sean would have ever picked Toby over Tim.
But Toby wasn't done, looming forward with just a taste of Beecher crazy. "You think I wouldn't sink a knife in your back if he asked nice?"
"I somehow doubt he'd have to ask nice." There was something about his confidence that made Sean wonder if Toby had. If anyone'd asked him before, Sean would have bet against Toby ever killing anyone on the inside. Now... Who the fuck knew?
A moment passed, and Toby stepped back, a friendly smile like he'd give to some kind of actual friend. "Nah, I probably wouldn't shank you."
"I'm touched." And not entirely convinced. Toby would have burned down Oz, if Keller persuaded him right. "Now I'm totally inclined to help you out."
Toby sat to pull on his socks, reached for his pants.
"Toby."
Toby slowed at Sean's tone, but didn't look up.
"They catch you with heroin while you're on parole, you're going back. You'll be in there for a long time."
"I'm not-"
"I saw the marks. You're mainlining."
"It's none of your business what I do."
"You're right; it ain't. But you gotta know how bad that shit can fuck up your life."
Toby snorted. "Fuck up my life? I'm an ex-con who pushes carts for a living, I see my kids on weekends and Chris won't see me at all. How much more fucked up could it get?"
"They could take your kids away altogether. They could send you back to prison."
There was a long quiet. "At least I'd see Chris."
The quiet, defeated tone was painful to hear. Sean didn't want to be babysitting Toby, didn't want it to be his job to put this mess back together, but he'd gone down on his knees on a dumbass whim and he wasn't so much of an asshole that he could walk away. There was no way Sean was getting out of this. "All right."
"All right?" Toby asked.
"All right. I'll do it. I'll go see Keller."
-----
end of 6/10
by Dr Squidlove
drsquidlove@livejournal.com
Beecher didn't fuck up his parole buying drugs for Bonnie. Yay, everything is awesome! Only... he's maybe not handling his parole as well as other people think he is. Meanwhile, Sean Murphy's been pining after Tim McManus for too damned long. Even so, the two of them hooking up for a blow job is about the worst idea possible.
Beecher/Murphy, with sidelines in Beecher/Keller and McManus/Murphy
Rated R for considerable amounts of fucking.
Wordcount this chapter: 3362
Total wordcount: 29 000-ish
Oz and all its characters are the property of Tom Fontana and HBO. I make no profit, and intend as little infringement as I possibly can.
Sinking 6/10
by Dr Squidlove
In chapter 5, after Keller mysteriously ditched visiting day for a trip to the Hole, Sean made the sensible choice to keep away from Toby. Instead Sean went out for beers with Tim, and remembered just how lovely it was to have drunken Tim cuddling up to him in the cab. At least until Tim started prodding Sean about his love life and worrying that Sean thought he was a homophobe. Sean resisted the urge to crack onto his straight best friend which was lucky because if Tim came home he would have tripped over Toby, who was sitting on Sean's front step in the rain, drunk and high.
Beecher kissed Sean this time, and that seemed like a dangerous road into Beecher's emotional swamp, but Sean had abandoned the last of his good sense. And now there was actual fucking, too. Really amazing fucking. And now they're on first name basis. Jesus wept, Sean, what are you doing?
Afterwards, Toby seemed to think he was welcome to hang around and drink Sean's instant coffee.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
There was something outrageously fucked up about the way Sean savoured the twinge in his ass with every step down the stairs from the control desk. Chris Keller was waiting for Rebadow and Busmalis to stop yakking and deal the next hand of cards, his face resting in that look of bored amusement he favoured.
That sharp reminder of Toby ran hot through his blood as he strolled past the oblivious Keller. He wanted to tell him... something. Drop some smart-ass line to make his head whip around and the jealousy explode. It'd be some show.
Sean was nuts. He forced his eyes forward as he headed out of the unit.
And he was an asshole. Toby was an emotional wreck, and Sean was riding him like a rollercoaster.
Years of pining for Tim had left Sean feeling sexless, like some kind of goddamn eunuch. He knew fucking Toby was bad, but he felt alive. He felt sexual and dangerous. He needed put a stop to it. Or at least he needed to figure out what was going on in Toby's brain.
Sean was headed for Glynn's office, but it was only a small detour to find Sister Pete, alone at her desk.
"Sean! What can I do for you?" She was looking over her glasses, expecting some random note about a prisoner.
"Ain't nothin', Sister. I was just... passing by, thought I'd stick my head in."
"Oh?" Already her suspicion was turned to full.
Sean guessed he didn't have Beecher's bullshitting skills. God, he shouldn't be here. "I'll just-"
"Come in then. You can spare a few minutes, can't you?"
"Uh, sure." Sean shuffled in, hands resting on his belt. He'd never been in here. Collected or delivered prisoners once or twice, but even that wasn't usually his job. It was surprisingly normal-looking, like she could have been counselling average Joes off the street. "You must hear some stories in here, Sister. I'm guessing you could turn my hair white."
Sister Pete smiled. "I probably could, at that."
Sean had seen and heard plenty over the years, but he'd never heard anyone's confessions or innermost thoughts. He wouldn't have taken on Pete's job for all the money in the world. It was enough just getting the handle to figure out what hijinks they were gonna pull next, without burrowing into the darkest corners of their fucked-up brains.
He wondered what Toby had told her, when he was in here.
"You know, Sean, I can't ever remember seeing you stuck for something to say." She put her chin in her hand and waited.
What the hell could he tell her? That he let Toby fuck him? No. That he was friends with Toby? For starters, it was a lie, and for seconds that'd lead her to figure out the fucking part. She may have had a blind spot for Beecher, but she wasn't stupid.
She looked worried, now. "Do we need to make this official, Sean? Anything you say would be in confidence."
Sean shook his head. "I shouldna come. I gotta get back to work."
"Sean..."
"Thanks, Sister."
Sean beat it the hell out of there, back to the safety of Em City. She couldn't help him. He knew what he needed to do. Next time Toby showed up, Sean was just gonna say no.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Sean had opened the door to find Toby with blown pupils and a raging hard-on, looking like he hadn't shaved in a week, and Sean hadn't bothered to pretend he needed to be seduced. They humped each other all the way to Sean's bed, clothes yanked off without ceremony. It was a week since Toby fucked Sean, and Sean wanted to touch all the hard planes of Toby's body, feel nails scratch through the hair on his chest. He wanted to remember the intimacy of fucking while he was high, back before mandatory testing ruled out the occasional Sunday lie-in with a spliff. He drank in the dazed warmth in Toby's eyes, the fuzzy smile, and sucked a path over Toby's chest, and down. Whatever Toby was on right now, Sean had never fucked on that.
He'd been living mostly dry, pining for Tim the last three (or thirty) years, six years before that in a relationship no one was gonna be writing any songs about, and It felt like some kind of miracle that anyone was this excited about getting Sean's clothes off. It felt so good to be naked and hungry, and hungered for
Less than three minutes after he opened the door, Sean had his mouth stuffed full of Beecher's cock. Toby was sprawling across the bed, boneless except for his hands in Sean's hair, tugging Sean down, and his hips thrusting up. Fucking Sean's face and Sean liked it. Sean pushed his breathing to match Toby's rhythm, opened his throat and rode it out, let Toby's hunger turn his own cock to steel.
He reached under to cup that fantastic ass, squeezing it shamelessly, dry fingers wandering back, testing the way to that pinched little hole. Toby let out a "Yeah," that sounded receptive enough so Sean lightly pressed in time for a few more strokes before he pulled off and flipped him over, ready to bury his tongue in there, get Toby begging for a fuck. But there it was, Vern Schillinger's little Kilroy doodle burned into his skin. This man had been raped. In Oz.
The scar was no secret but Sean had never seen it like this, the rough edges of a slow-etched burn, a brutal mark to remind Toby and anyone who touched him ever after that Tobias Beecher had been owned and abused. Sean's fingers itched to touch it but he curled them into a fist and rubbed his prickly jaw over the other cheek instead.
"I'm sure Vern could give you one if you asked real nice." There was a dangerous edge in his voice, the kind of edge that reminded Sean he probably had a shiv somewhere in reach.
"I'll pass, thanks."
"If you wanna fuck me I'd suggest you keep going."
Right. Sean rubbed his hands up to Toby's ass and spread it wide, took a good look at the promised land before he licked his way up the crack and settled in, relaxing a little at Toby's quiet "Fuck yeah." Toby lifted his hips and pushed back, squirming on Sean's face, couldn't fight the little sounds Sean was licking out of him. Now, though, Sean's head was filled with all the thoughts he usually tried to avoid. He tongued Toby's tight asshole and wondered, had Keller had to coax and comfort Toby to get his cock in here the first time? Was Chris Keller capable of that kind of tenderness? Sean imagined Keller spreading Toby's legs like this, his sharp pink tongue wriggling its way into a body locked tight in remembered terror, on a bunk that squeaked just the same as the one Vern fucked him on. Said's good Muslim forgiveness was one thing; how did a guy like Toby go about making his body forget the man invading him was once in league with the scumbag who violated him for months? Sorry I broke your arms, Toby, can I shove my dick up you now? Was it a slow seduction, sweet words and heavy petting, or did Keller just sweep in with the power of sex and have his way? Or maybe Mineo was right, and Toby had just been debasing himself.
Chris had been in the Hole again Wednesday, but this time Toby hadn't even shown up. Sean didn't know what was going on with that.
How do you sink lower than screwing the man who broke your arms and legs?
By getting on your knees for a CO. Is that what's getting you off, Toby?
Sean growled and pushed inside. Toby was open now, writhing around on Sean's mouth like a slut, making more noise than he had before. More noise than he ever could have made with Keller.
"You want it, Toby?"
"Fuck yes. Fuck me. Please, baby. Fuck me." Toby kept repeating it into the pillow as Sean fumbled a rubber out of the drawer and onto his straining cock, slicked up fast and lined it up and Christ, Christ, it had been too long. He was fighting not to come before he got his cock halfway in, Toby's slick ass clenching around him, that broken breathless voice begging for more. "So good, baby."
Sean knew who 'baby' was, and it wasn't him. It hardly mattered; Sean didn't want any kind of special place in Toby's heart. He closed his eyes and tried to pretend this was Tim bent over and taking it, Tim finally done with slutting around with women and offering Sean his pale virgin ass, but Sean couldn't climb into the fantasy. He couldn't imagine Tim like this. His eyes were locked on the shine of slick across the sharp white swastika just an inch from his breaching dick.
His stupid reptile brain was happier with with the drugged-up ex-con boyfriend of a serial killer. Sean pushed the last couple of inches home and his balls got tighter when he thought about walking by Keller's pod tomorrow with this memory of his cock splitting Toby's ass fresh in his memory. Tighter still when he thought of sitting in Tim's office distracted yet again by another night of incredible, dangerous fucking. Sean's cock didn't want to forget this delicious heat was Toby Beecher. Maybe Tim could barge in right now and discover Sean wasn't the boring, rule-toeing officer everybody thought he was.
"You like my cock in you, Toby?"
"Come on baby. Come on."
Sean pulled out and thrust in hard enough to drive the breath out of him. "Is that how you want it?"
"Fuck me. Take me."
Yeah, he would. Sean wished he had a pill of whatever Toby had the other day that kept him hard for hours. This was going to be an embarrassment in comparison.
He slid his hands over sweating skin to Toby's ass, let a thumb drag over the brand as he spread Toby wider, all the better to watch his cock shoving in and sliding out again. No guy should like a pounding like this but Toby kept urging him on. A sober corner of Sean's brain said he was maybe too high right now to feel anything but pleasure. Too high maybe to remember where he was or who was doing the reaming. He'd feel it tomorrow.
Sean let go, thrust like his cock wanted and Toby drank it up. Sweet animal fucking. All the muscles of Toby's body flexed as he shoved back, twisting under the sheen of his skin while he growled like an animal and Sean growled right back.
They were slamming together and the pace was already wearing him out but he couldn't get enough, couldn't get enough of this view of his slicked sheathed cock sliding into that stretched hole and dragging out again, the way Toby lifted to meet him, the sweet perfect friction, the freedom of selfishly pounding away in a hot tight ass, and suddenly it was too much, and Sean doubled over as he seized up, vision flooding white, Toby's body wrenching the come out of him. Sean barely had the brain to reach for Toby's cock to bring him along, clumsy-handed as his own throbbed to empty, and he was just spilling his last when Toby's ass locked down and Sean couldn't do anything but gasp, riding it out until Toby collapsed under him.
Sean stayed where he was on his hands and knees, panting and aching like a forty-something who needed to get to the gym a little more often. He slid off the condom and pitched it into the trash. Rubbed a hand through his sweaty hair. Sobriety always came too fast after Sean got off.
He flopped on the bed, face half-pressed into the pillow. "What's this about, Toby?"
Toby rolled to face him, eyebrows lifted more in curiosity than surprise. His pupils were still swollen dark, and there was bliss in his expression that was down to more than the white puddle on the sheet between them .
It felt good to say it. Sean wasn't going to be Toby's fool, even if some part of him was aching for more of whatever he'd just had. He didn't want it from fucking Beecher.
"You think I know?" He said it with a shrug, and Sean almost believed it.
"I ain't Chris."
Toby's voice hardened. "I know that." He sat up, making a face that said he was going to be feeling the echo of Sean's cock in his ass for a while. "Chris won't see me."
"He was in the Hole."
"He sent me a letter. Seeyalater, don't come back."
That explained a whole lot of shit.
Toby rubbed a hand roughly through his hair, across his eyes. "Something's wrong."
The thread of fear that had tickled Sean's gut since he first saw Toby in the bar five weeks ago turned, and rolled into a little knot. "Maybe he's trying to help you."
"Fuck that. Something's wrong. He's angry with me, and I don't know what I did. I have to make it up to him." Suddenly he swung a leg over to straddle Sean's hips. "I need you to talk to him."
"Me?" This was bad.
"Please."
"So whaddya expect me to do? Stick my head in his cell and say 'Hey, Keller, want me to pass on a message while I'm fucking your boyfriend?'"
"I'd rather you told him I fucked you." Toby ground his balls against Sean's soft cock, met Sean's incredulous look with a calm smile. "Maybe not. Chris didn't take too well to the last couple of guys I fucked."
Ice formed in Sean's veins. "What the hell does that mean?"
"Probably just what you think it does."
Sean jerked up. "Jesus... Why did you tell me that? Jesus Christ, Toby, why the fuck would you tell me that?" Keller killed them. Keller murdered two men in Oz, under Sean's watch, and now Sean knew what would happen if Chris found out he'd been fucking Toby. "Who?"
Was it a threat?
Toby cut him a look, and slid his hands over Sean's chest like he was working up to round two.
Sean wanted to throw him off and get some space but he wasn't sure his legs would hold him right now. Toby was a fuck of a lot more dangerous than Sean was. "Why the fuck did you tell me that?"
"Because you're going to talk to Chris, and you're going to make him realise he needs to see me. He's the least fucked-up thing in my life and I have to see him."
"Fuck you seeing him, Toby; you just told me Keller killed men you fucked."
"I didn't say that."
"Yeah, you just did!"
"I never said any such thing."
Not the exact words, no. Goddamn lawyer.
Toby leaned in his face, weight on Sean's chest, eyes bright and dangerous. "You gonna tell the cops I confessed while my ass was still raw from you fucking me?"
"How am I supposed to keep that to myself?"
"I guess the same way you keep your mouth shut when men get beaten and raped under your watch every day."
Sean clenched his fists. "They haven't yet invented the Hallmark card for you and Keller."
Toby's mouth twisted, amused and bitter. "That's true. But I'll bet the sum of the Beecher fortune against your sad little bank account, that you're never in your whole life going to be loved the way Chris loves me. Or the way I love him." He leaned closer still, whispered in Sean's ear. "Hell, Sean, does anyone love you at all?"
"Fuck you, Toby."
"Already, you big stallion?"
Sean rubbed his face. "Christ."
He finally pushed Toby off and got to his feet. Here it was, the storm he'd seen bearing down from the beginning, and now he was in the middle of Toby and Keller, and he was fucked.
"You don't think this is a job for Sister Pete?"
Toby stood on the other side of the bed. "You really think she's gonna fight for Chris? She'd have me walk away and forget all about him. And I don't want her in his sights again, anyway."
"You really know how to sweet talk a guy." Sean had to get out of this gracefully. "He ain't gonna talk to me. He'll think it's a set-up."
Toby pressed his lips in a thin line, thinking. "He won't be able to help himself if he knows you're coming from me. You have to tell him something. Tell him... Tell him when I was fifteen, I stole a bra from a store."
"A bra. As in like, a woman's brassiere?"
Toby actually blushed. "It was a dare. And Chris never laughed so hard as the day I told him that. He'll remember."
"I'll bet he remembers." Sean almost chuckled, until he remembered Toby was in the middle of blackmailing him. "You really are fucking crazy."
"Certifiable."
Sean blinked. "You believe it, don't you? That you're crazy?"
"Didn't you hear? I took a shit on somebody's face."
Yeah, Sean heard that. "You want me to run a poll on how many guys in Oz would love to take a shit on Vern Schillinger's face?"
Toby smiled, sudden and easy, an ordinary guy. "I did get more than one high five out of that one." He reached for his clothes, started shrugging them on. Sean was taken aback by the sudden wish that Toby would stay. Stick around awhile and be this guy, not the prickly con.
"You should let him go. You've got a second chance. Start a new life."
Toby came around and dumped his armful of clothes on the bed. "You didn't think I'd choose you over him, did you? This isn't some grand romance, Murphy."
"I never thought it was." And it wasn't like Sean would have ever picked Toby over Tim.
But Toby wasn't done, looming forward with just a taste of Beecher crazy. "You think I wouldn't sink a knife in your back if he asked nice?"
"I somehow doubt he'd have to ask nice." There was something about his confidence that made Sean wonder if Toby had. If anyone'd asked him before, Sean would have bet against Toby ever killing anyone on the inside. Now... Who the fuck knew?
A moment passed, and Toby stepped back, a friendly smile like he'd give to some kind of actual friend. "Nah, I probably wouldn't shank you."
"I'm touched." And not entirely convinced. Toby would have burned down Oz, if Keller persuaded him right. "Now I'm totally inclined to help you out."
Toby sat to pull on his socks, reached for his pants.
"Toby."
Toby slowed at Sean's tone, but didn't look up.
"They catch you with heroin while you're on parole, you're going back. You'll be in there for a long time."
"I'm not-"
"I saw the marks. You're mainlining."
"It's none of your business what I do."
"You're right; it ain't. But you gotta know how bad that shit can fuck up your life."
Toby snorted. "Fuck up my life? I'm an ex-con who pushes carts for a living, I see my kids on weekends and Chris won't see me at all. How much more fucked up could it get?"
"They could take your kids away altogether. They could send you back to prison."
There was a long quiet. "At least I'd see Chris."
The quiet, defeated tone was painful to hear. Sean didn't want to be babysitting Toby, didn't want it to be his job to put this mess back together, but he'd gone down on his knees on a dumbass whim and he wasn't so much of an asshole that he could walk away. There was no way Sean was getting out of this. "All right."
"All right?" Toby asked.
"All right. I'll do it. I'll go see Keller."
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end of 6/10