A little something for Smutday, though I don't think it's so smutty
In doing the Hardtime 100 Challenges, I created an AU for Beecher/Keller, and wrote three entries in that universe. This story is a follow-up to those. (I'm also reposting the Hardtime challenges.)
Picking up Chris' denim jacket from where he'd dropped it last night, Toby was assailed by an unfamiliar scent. He closed his eyes tight, willing himself to not get upset. He knew the rules, they were free to do as they pleased.
Chris frequently assured Toby these brief encounters meant nothing, and he was always careful about showering before coming home. But the fresh scent of soap and shampoo on his body was as disturbing as the strange odors that sometimes clung to his clothes or lingered in his car.
Toby threw the jacket out the front door, and finished cleaning the room.
**************
After adjusting to the dim light, it took only a moment to spot him on the dance floor. Though the pulsing music was fast, Chris was moving slowly against the man he was holding. They were molded together, back to front, swaying and grinding in their own erotic rhythm.
It doesn't mean anything. Chris' words echoed in his ears.
He recalled those words again twenty minutes later, draped over the arm of a couch in the even darker back room. He hissed the words through gritted teeth as he welcomed the strange cock pounding into him.
"It doesn't mean anything."
*****************************
As the stranger pushed him against the wall, Toby pretended the hand sliding down the front of his pants was Chris', the teeth biting his neck were Chris', the low voice...
"Get the fuck off him."
Toby opened his eyes to see the stranger move away, sensing it was in his own best interest to find somewhere else to stick his dick. He was actually relieved - and vindicated that Chris had hunted him down. But his resentfullnes of Keller's possesive attitude won the war of emotions.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Toby spat. "Am I supposed to just be waiting at home until you're done with your piece of ass for the night?"
Chris' smirk was barely visible in the dark room. "You're not here 'cause you like this. You're fuckin' all these other guys to get back at me. Well, it ain't gonna happen, Beecher."
Toby smiled. "Seems to be happening right now."
"What do you want from me?" Chris seethed. "Vows of fidelity, promises of happy ever after, an oath of allegiance? It don't work like that."
"It's not working like this, either, Chris." And Toby walked away, heartsick, not sure if he'd ever be back.
*******************************
He opened the door to his small rent-by-the-week room, and there was Chris, sitting on the bed. Toby wasn't the least bit surprised - he'd been expecting him.
What was unexpected was how nervous he felt. It had been three days since he'd walked away from Chris, left him standing in the dark back room of some nameless club, and his body tightened at the sight of him now. He'd practiced what he would say at this moment, but all words left him. He couldn't think, only feel, feel that something - electricity, or chemistry, or whatever you wanted to call it - that seemed to charge the air when they were together. The thing that had kept him with Chris far longer than was healthy. He watched silently as Chris slowly stood, unfolding to show his body in the dimming light, clad in his snug, faded jeans and tight black t-shirt. Toby later decided his choice of apparel had been carefully planned.
Their eyes locked through the evening shadows as Chris advanced on him. And then he was pushed up against the wall, Chris' hands twined through his hair, pulling, forcing their mouths to meet. His chest and belly pressed on Toby's. His cock was already hard against Toby's hip, his thigh hard between Toby's legs.
Hard - everything about Chris was hard. He was a hard man, and that was just what Toby needed when they met almost a year ago.
Toby's life had been deceptively calm on the surface. Oh, his close friends and family knew he wasn't the happiest guy, and that he drank too much, but no one until Chris had been able to recognize - and more importantly, understand - the riptide just below the surface, threatening to pull him down. And he had been there, no questions asked, an unyielding lifeline for Toby to hold onto while he pulled himself from his soft, suffocating existence.
But now Toby needed for Chris to lose his edge, give a little, let him in. Chris claimed he didn't feel the same way, was even incapable of doing it, but Toby thought it more that he was unwilling. He knew Chris cared about him, probably even loved him, but he'd grown far too tired and discouraged of butting his head against the wall of Chris' resistance.
He finally jerked his mouth free from the bruising kiss, gasping for air as he turned his head to the side.
"I've missed you," Chris said against his cheek.
'Whose fault is that?' Toby thought, and the rush he'd felt at seeing Chris passed. "But you weren't lonely, were you?" he replied.
Chris sighed and stepped back. "But I was, Toby. Every morning I woke up alone I hated it."
"Then why didn't you get some company?" Toby wouldn't be sweet-talked. "With me gone, you could have had done your fucking in a comfortable bed, instead of all over town."
"Because that's our bed, goddammit. I want you there!"
Toby shook his head. "It's your bed, your apartment, your life."
"That's bullshit."
"No, it's not. It's your bed, Chris, I'm just the extra that's come with it the past year."
Chris raised his fist, one finger extended to shake in Toby's face. "This is what you wanted! You wanted to cut yourself off from your other life, start over someplace else - I did that for you!"
"Yes, you did, and you know how fucking much I appreciate it. But things change. Now, get your hand out of my face."
They stared each other down until finally Chris gave in and turned away. Toby moved to the dresser, setting his briefcase and jacket there. Chris was at the small table on the other side of the room, picking up the various items there, examining them briefly - the TV Guide, the hotel ashtray. When he came to the classifieds, with apartments for rent circled, he crumpled the paper and threw it to the floor.
"Come home, Toby. If it means so much to you, I'll stop going to clubs. I won't pick up any more men."
Toby stared at Chris' back, wanting it so much he had to bite his lip to keep from saying 'yes'.
"Chris," he finally answered, when he could trust himself, "I can't. It's not the men, it's what they represent...you know that."
Chris turned toward him, his face dark with disappointment and anger. "You know what? Fuck you! You been living a lie your whole life, but now you want to fix me to suit your needs?"
He was right, had always been right on this point, but Toby couldn't change the way he felt. "It's because I lived that lie that I know what I want. I could never give Gen everything she needed from me, and now I'm in her shoes, and it sucks. We both grew really good at pretending everything was okay, but I can't do that with you. And you're right, I shouldn't try to change you. Gen stayed engaged to me for three years - three fucking years! - waiting for me to change. I won't do that to either one of us."
"You're serious." The anger had drained from Chris' face, replaced by a sad acceptance.
Toby nodded, sudden fear gripping him. He really was serious, this really was the end. This isn't what he wanted. He wanted to go home, and he wanted what Chris could give him to be enough. But it wasn't, and so he had to stay.
"What's so wrong with what we have?" Toby could hear the strain in Chris' voice as he struggled to remain calm, asking the questions he'd asked a dozen times before. "We have a good thing goin', Tobe. Why the hell does it have to be so fucking serious? We're havin' fun, feelin' good, why can't that be enough?"
What he wanted to say was "Because I love you, and it's too hard to be with you when you can't admit you love me back. And I haven't been having fun, Chris. Fucking all those guys to get back at you made me sick". But the few times he had put voice to his feelings, the only answer he'd received was, "I ain't the kind of guy anybody should love". Toby couldn't bear to hear that now. Besides, he knew Chris really didn't expect an answer, it had all been said so many times before.
Without another word, Chris went toward the door, taking Toby by surprise. It couldn't end like this, could it? So *simply*, so easily. He'd expected more of a fight from Chris. But in the next second, when Chris did turn around and come back to him, he wished he hadn't. Because instead of looking at the door closing on that part of his life, breaking it off cleanly, he was looking into Chris' eyes, feeling Chris' hands on his face, hearing Chris' voice ask for just one more time together.
"I can't bear to walk away without being with you again." Chris had Toby's face cupped in his hands, his eyes pleading.
"No," Toby answered, "no, no." But his answer was lost, swallowed by Chris' mouth on his own. It was wrong, it was only going to make things worse, make it harder to say good-bye. He tried to push Chris away, tried to ignore the fact that every part of his body was aching for the man he was rebuffing. Chris stopped the kiss, but he wouldn't let go.
"Don't, Chris. Just walk away and let this end now."
Chris lowered his hand and dropped his head to Toby's shoulder, his words breaking Toby's heart.
"Please, Toby, this is all I have to give you...let me, one last time."
Toby's resolve vanished at the need in that voice. It wasn't true, Chris could give him more. Toby knew in his heart that Chris was capable of being everything he needed. But he had his reasons for denying it, reasons he kept to himself. Toby's attempts to find out what they were, to challenge them, only caused arguments and hurt feelings.
And he didn't want that now. The time for that - for everything else - had passed. So he stayed quiet and let Chris hold him, let him kiss the side of his neck, let his hands roam freely over his body, until Toby breath was coming hard and he was stiff against Chris' hand; he offered no resistance as Chris moved him to the bed and began undressing him.
He didn't try to fool himself that this was just for Chris. He was giving in because...beause even when he was at the height of his drinking days, having orange juice for breakfast just for the vodka, and filling the bottom drawer of his personal filing cabinet with mini bottles, breath mints and mouthwash, and making up late-night business meetings for Gen because he was too drunk to drive home, even then his craving didn't match this. His thirst for Chris couldn't be slaked, even in the midst of their break-up. 'But this *will* be the last time, it has to be', he swore to himself as he lay down, opening his arms to his lover.
Chris covered Toby, kissing his eyes, his temples, his mouth, sweet, soft kisses that made Toby want to weep from the emotion he could feel behind each one. He ran his hands over Chris' back, feeling the hard muscles beneath the smooth skin, marveling as he had done so many times at the perfection of this man's body.
Soon they were humping softly against each other's belly's, until Chris shifted slightly, his penis nudging Toby's. The mood suddenly changed, and in an instant they were wrapped around each other, a tangle of arms and legs, pulling each other impossibly closer. Hands grasping and bruising. Mouths pushed together so fiercely their lips would be swollen long after. They ground their bodies together, going at it desperately, like...like...they never would again.
Then Chris pushed Toby's arms up over his head. "Just let me," he whispered. And Toby did, laying spread eagle on the bed, concentrating on each kiss, each touch, memorizing every last moment of this last time.
The last time Chris would lick and suck on the corner of his mouth, something he hadn't known he liked until they had become lovers. The last time Chris would nuzzle in his armpit, tickling and arousing equally. The last time Chris would run his fingers over Toby's ribs and down to stroke his hip bones while he sucked on the soft skin of the inside of his thighs.
Toby wished they'd turned the light on so he could see more clearly this last time Chris would kneel between his legs, sucking him slowly and completely into his mouth.
Toby watched himself slide between Chris' lips, watched Chris move lower to suck and lick his balls, watched Chris' tongue flick over the head of his cock, until he had to close his eye - it was too intense, he wanted to delay the inevitable. But it really didn't help, and he soon had to push Chris away. "I don't want to get off like this."
Chris pulled back. "I don't either." He sat back on his feet, one hand stroking himself, the other on Toby. "I want you to fuck me." His voice was so low and dirty and sexy, Toby shivered at the sound, and he had to wonder how he ever came to be with someone like this...and how he could ever leave him.
Toby nodded, and his cock twitch in Chris' hand. Chris brushed his thumb over the leaking tip, collecting the drops of liquid there, then brought his hand up to his mouth. Toby watched, transfixed, as Chris fucked his own mouth with his essence. He finally pulled it out with a loud popping sound.
"That's what I want you to do to my ass, " he said. Toby was so hard he could barely wait for Chris to fish the lube and condom out of his jeans. He got to his knees, and reached for the small bedside light.
A few minutes later Toby was pushing into Chris, biting his lip at the effort to go slowly - Chris was so incredibly tight. He paused, watching Chris' face, waiting for the discomfort evident there to pass. Chris let out a long breath, then wrapped his legs around Toby's waist, pulling him closer.
"Go, Tobe, do it."
Held up on arms braced on either side of Chris, Toby began to move in his lover with long, slow strokes. They were watching each other as they fucked, and Toby could see his own emotions reflected back at him from Chris' eyes - lust, desire, pleasure. And love. Suddenly Toby wanted to slap Chris. He wanted to hit him over and over until he confessed his true feelings and admitted there was more between them than just *this*.
He'd stopped moving, and now Chris was touching his face, looking at him curiously. "What's wrong, baby?"
Toby didn't answer, only slid his arms under Chris' legs, pushing them up as far as he could before he began thrusting again, hard and fast. Words didn't work, so he would take out his sorrow and frustration where he could.
Chris' only reaction was to tilt his head back and grip the bedspread. Each stroke pushed a gasp from his body as Toby grunted above him, pounding into him. Sweat dripped from his face, and he concentrated on the drops spotting Chris' taut neck. Too soon he could feel the approach of his orgasm, and he slowed his strokes - he didn't want it to end in anger. His rage was gone, anyhow, burned away by the fire flickering along his nerves. He shifted, positioning Chris' legs around his back again. He spit on his hand and reached between them, wrapping his fingers around Chris weeping cock.
Chris was panting, looking at him through narrowed eyes that signalled his approaching release. Toby bent his head, and they exchanged one last, lingering kiss, until Chris began moaning into Toby's mouth, and Toby could feel him come through his whole body. He buried his face in Chris' neck, biting the salty skin, biting back the words he longed to say as his own orgasm ripped through him.
They lay there a long time, until their pounding hearts had slowed against each other's chests, and Toby was soft enough to slip from Chris' body.
He rolled onto his back, and after a moment Chris got gingerly to his feet.
"You okay?" Toby asked.
Chris slipped into his jeans, then wiped his finger over his belly, through the smear of drying cum. He brought his finger to his mouth and sucked it briefly before answering. "I could spend the rest of my life letting you fuck me."
God, he looked beautiful, standing there like that. Jeans unbuttoned, showing a dark thatch of curly hair. His sculpted, sweaty chest shone in the low lamplight. His lips were full, red and swollen, and his eyes burned into Toby's with a desire their recent love-making hadn't diminished.
"I know," Toby answered sadly. "And I could spend the rest of my life loving you."
Chris flinched at that - he didn't look so hard now. His tough bravado was gone, leaving just a regular man, on the verge of losing something he was too stubborn to admit he wanted. He finished dressing and turned to Toby one last time. "Toby, I..." Toby waited, though he knew the words he needed weren't going to be said. "Come home, any time," Chris finished.
Toby could barely stand to look at him, the pain in his chest growing with every second they were still together. He managed the barest of a bittersweet smile, and shook his head. Chris nodded his understanding, and walked across the room. This time he didn't stop, didn't come back, and the door closed on that part of Toby's life.
He lay there a long time, not wanting to disturb the lingering thrum of his body, or leave the heavy smell of sex permeating the bed, all he had left of Chris. As he lay there, he thought about how he had just done the hardest, maybe bravest thing of his life. And he wondered, if he was so fucking brave, why did he just want to curl up into a ball and cry?
Picking up Chris' denim jacket from where he'd dropped it last night, Toby was assailed by an unfamiliar scent. He closed his eyes tight, willing himself to not get upset. He knew the rules, they were free to do as they pleased.
Chris frequently assured Toby these brief encounters meant nothing, and he was always careful about showering before coming home. But the fresh scent of soap and shampoo on his body was as disturbing as the strange odors that sometimes clung to his clothes or lingered in his car.
Toby threw the jacket out the front door, and finished cleaning the room.
**************
After adjusting to the dim light, it took only a moment to spot him on the dance floor. Though the pulsing music was fast, Chris was moving slowly against the man he was holding. They were molded together, back to front, swaying and grinding in their own erotic rhythm.
It doesn't mean anything. Chris' words echoed in his ears.
He recalled those words again twenty minutes later, draped over the arm of a couch in the even darker back room. He hissed the words through gritted teeth as he welcomed the strange cock pounding into him.
"It doesn't mean anything."
*****************************
As the stranger pushed him against the wall, Toby pretended the hand sliding down the front of his pants was Chris', the teeth biting his neck were Chris', the low voice...
"Get the fuck off him."
Toby opened his eyes to see the stranger move away, sensing it was in his own best interest to find somewhere else to stick his dick. He was actually relieved - and vindicated that Chris had hunted him down. But his resentfullnes of Keller's possesive attitude won the war of emotions.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Toby spat. "Am I supposed to just be waiting at home until you're done with your piece of ass for the night?"
Chris' smirk was barely visible in the dark room. "You're not here 'cause you like this. You're fuckin' all these other guys to get back at me. Well, it ain't gonna happen, Beecher."
Toby smiled. "Seems to be happening right now."
"What do you want from me?" Chris seethed. "Vows of fidelity, promises of happy ever after, an oath of allegiance? It don't work like that."
"It's not working like this, either, Chris." And Toby walked away, heartsick, not sure if he'd ever be back.
*******************************
He opened the door to his small rent-by-the-week room, and there was Chris, sitting on the bed. Toby wasn't the least bit surprised - he'd been expecting him.
What was unexpected was how nervous he felt. It had been three days since he'd walked away from Chris, left him standing in the dark back room of some nameless club, and his body tightened at the sight of him now. He'd practiced what he would say at this moment, but all words left him. He couldn't think, only feel, feel that something - electricity, or chemistry, or whatever you wanted to call it - that seemed to charge the air when they were together. The thing that had kept him with Chris far longer than was healthy. He watched silently as Chris slowly stood, unfolding to show his body in the dimming light, clad in his snug, faded jeans and tight black t-shirt. Toby later decided his choice of apparel had been carefully planned.
Their eyes locked through the evening shadows as Chris advanced on him. And then he was pushed up against the wall, Chris' hands twined through his hair, pulling, forcing their mouths to meet. His chest and belly pressed on Toby's. His cock was already hard against Toby's hip, his thigh hard between Toby's legs.
Hard - everything about Chris was hard. He was a hard man, and that was just what Toby needed when they met almost a year ago.
Toby's life had been deceptively calm on the surface. Oh, his close friends and family knew he wasn't the happiest guy, and that he drank too much, but no one until Chris had been able to recognize - and more importantly, understand - the riptide just below the surface, threatening to pull him down. And he had been there, no questions asked, an unyielding lifeline for Toby to hold onto while he pulled himself from his soft, suffocating existence.
But now Toby needed for Chris to lose his edge, give a little, let him in. Chris claimed he didn't feel the same way, was even incapable of doing it, but Toby thought it more that he was unwilling. He knew Chris cared about him, probably even loved him, but he'd grown far too tired and discouraged of butting his head against the wall of Chris' resistance.
He finally jerked his mouth free from the bruising kiss, gasping for air as he turned his head to the side.
"I've missed you," Chris said against his cheek.
'Whose fault is that?' Toby thought, and the rush he'd felt at seeing Chris passed. "But you weren't lonely, were you?" he replied.
Chris sighed and stepped back. "But I was, Toby. Every morning I woke up alone I hated it."
"Then why didn't you get some company?" Toby wouldn't be sweet-talked. "With me gone, you could have had done your fucking in a comfortable bed, instead of all over town."
"Because that's our bed, goddammit. I want you there!"
Toby shook his head. "It's your bed, your apartment, your life."
"That's bullshit."
"No, it's not. It's your bed, Chris, I'm just the extra that's come with it the past year."
Chris raised his fist, one finger extended to shake in Toby's face. "This is what you wanted! You wanted to cut yourself off from your other life, start over someplace else - I did that for you!"
"Yes, you did, and you know how fucking much I appreciate it. But things change. Now, get your hand out of my face."
They stared each other down until finally Chris gave in and turned away. Toby moved to the dresser, setting his briefcase and jacket there. Chris was at the small table on the other side of the room, picking up the various items there, examining them briefly - the TV Guide, the hotel ashtray. When he came to the classifieds, with apartments for rent circled, he crumpled the paper and threw it to the floor.
"Come home, Toby. If it means so much to you, I'll stop going to clubs. I won't pick up any more men."
Toby stared at Chris' back, wanting it so much he had to bite his lip to keep from saying 'yes'.
"Chris," he finally answered, when he could trust himself, "I can't. It's not the men, it's what they represent...you know that."
Chris turned toward him, his face dark with disappointment and anger. "You know what? Fuck you! You been living a lie your whole life, but now you want to fix me to suit your needs?"
He was right, had always been right on this point, but Toby couldn't change the way he felt. "It's because I lived that lie that I know what I want. I could never give Gen everything she needed from me, and now I'm in her shoes, and it sucks. We both grew really good at pretending everything was okay, but I can't do that with you. And you're right, I shouldn't try to change you. Gen stayed engaged to me for three years - three fucking years! - waiting for me to change. I won't do that to either one of us."
"You're serious." The anger had drained from Chris' face, replaced by a sad acceptance.
Toby nodded, sudden fear gripping him. He really was serious, this really was the end. This isn't what he wanted. He wanted to go home, and he wanted what Chris could give him to be enough. But it wasn't, and so he had to stay.
"What's so wrong with what we have?" Toby could hear the strain in Chris' voice as he struggled to remain calm, asking the questions he'd asked a dozen times before. "We have a good thing goin', Tobe. Why the hell does it have to be so fucking serious? We're havin' fun, feelin' good, why can't that be enough?"
What he wanted to say was "Because I love you, and it's too hard to be with you when you can't admit you love me back. And I haven't been having fun, Chris. Fucking all those guys to get back at you made me sick". But the few times he had put voice to his feelings, the only answer he'd received was, "I ain't the kind of guy anybody should love". Toby couldn't bear to hear that now. Besides, he knew Chris really didn't expect an answer, it had all been said so many times before.
Without another word, Chris went toward the door, taking Toby by surprise. It couldn't end like this, could it? So *simply*, so easily. He'd expected more of a fight from Chris. But in the next second, when Chris did turn around and come back to him, he wished he hadn't. Because instead of looking at the door closing on that part of his life, breaking it off cleanly, he was looking into Chris' eyes, feeling Chris' hands on his face, hearing Chris' voice ask for just one more time together.
"I can't bear to walk away without being with you again." Chris had Toby's face cupped in his hands, his eyes pleading.
"No," Toby answered, "no, no." But his answer was lost, swallowed by Chris' mouth on his own. It was wrong, it was only going to make things worse, make it harder to say good-bye. He tried to push Chris away, tried to ignore the fact that every part of his body was aching for the man he was rebuffing. Chris stopped the kiss, but he wouldn't let go.
"Don't, Chris. Just walk away and let this end now."
Chris lowered his hand and dropped his head to Toby's shoulder, his words breaking Toby's heart.
"Please, Toby, this is all I have to give you...let me, one last time."
Toby's resolve vanished at the need in that voice. It wasn't true, Chris could give him more. Toby knew in his heart that Chris was capable of being everything he needed. But he had his reasons for denying it, reasons he kept to himself. Toby's attempts to find out what they were, to challenge them, only caused arguments and hurt feelings.
And he didn't want that now. The time for that - for everything else - had passed. So he stayed quiet and let Chris hold him, let him kiss the side of his neck, let his hands roam freely over his body, until Toby breath was coming hard and he was stiff against Chris' hand; he offered no resistance as Chris moved him to the bed and began undressing him.
He didn't try to fool himself that this was just for Chris. He was giving in because...beause even when he was at the height of his drinking days, having orange juice for breakfast just for the vodka, and filling the bottom drawer of his personal filing cabinet with mini bottles, breath mints and mouthwash, and making up late-night business meetings for Gen because he was too drunk to drive home, even then his craving didn't match this. His thirst for Chris couldn't be slaked, even in the midst of their break-up. 'But this *will* be the last time, it has to be', he swore to himself as he lay down, opening his arms to his lover.
Chris covered Toby, kissing his eyes, his temples, his mouth, sweet, soft kisses that made Toby want to weep from the emotion he could feel behind each one. He ran his hands over Chris' back, feeling the hard muscles beneath the smooth skin, marveling as he had done so many times at the perfection of this man's body.
Soon they were humping softly against each other's belly's, until Chris shifted slightly, his penis nudging Toby's. The mood suddenly changed, and in an instant they were wrapped around each other, a tangle of arms and legs, pulling each other impossibly closer. Hands grasping and bruising. Mouths pushed together so fiercely their lips would be swollen long after. They ground their bodies together, going at it desperately, like...like...they never would again.
Then Chris pushed Toby's arms up over his head. "Just let me," he whispered. And Toby did, laying spread eagle on the bed, concentrating on each kiss, each touch, memorizing every last moment of this last time.
The last time Chris would lick and suck on the corner of his mouth, something he hadn't known he liked until they had become lovers. The last time Chris would nuzzle in his armpit, tickling and arousing equally. The last time Chris would run his fingers over Toby's ribs and down to stroke his hip bones while he sucked on the soft skin of the inside of his thighs.
Toby wished they'd turned the light on so he could see more clearly this last time Chris would kneel between his legs, sucking him slowly and completely into his mouth.
Toby watched himself slide between Chris' lips, watched Chris move lower to suck and lick his balls, watched Chris' tongue flick over the head of his cock, until he had to close his eye - it was too intense, he wanted to delay the inevitable. But it really didn't help, and he soon had to push Chris away. "I don't want to get off like this."
Chris pulled back. "I don't either." He sat back on his feet, one hand stroking himself, the other on Toby. "I want you to fuck me." His voice was so low and dirty and sexy, Toby shivered at the sound, and he had to wonder how he ever came to be with someone like this...and how he could ever leave him.
Toby nodded, and his cock twitch in Chris' hand. Chris brushed his thumb over the leaking tip, collecting the drops of liquid there, then brought his hand up to his mouth. Toby watched, transfixed, as Chris fucked his own mouth with his essence. He finally pulled it out with a loud popping sound.
"That's what I want you to do to my ass, " he said. Toby was so hard he could barely wait for Chris to fish the lube and condom out of his jeans. He got to his knees, and reached for the small bedside light.
A few minutes later Toby was pushing into Chris, biting his lip at the effort to go slowly - Chris was so incredibly tight. He paused, watching Chris' face, waiting for the discomfort evident there to pass. Chris let out a long breath, then wrapped his legs around Toby's waist, pulling him closer.
"Go, Tobe, do it."
Held up on arms braced on either side of Chris, Toby began to move in his lover with long, slow strokes. They were watching each other as they fucked, and Toby could see his own emotions reflected back at him from Chris' eyes - lust, desire, pleasure. And love. Suddenly Toby wanted to slap Chris. He wanted to hit him over and over until he confessed his true feelings and admitted there was more between them than just *this*.
He'd stopped moving, and now Chris was touching his face, looking at him curiously. "What's wrong, baby?"
Toby didn't answer, only slid his arms under Chris' legs, pushing them up as far as he could before he began thrusting again, hard and fast. Words didn't work, so he would take out his sorrow and frustration where he could.
Chris' only reaction was to tilt his head back and grip the bedspread. Each stroke pushed a gasp from his body as Toby grunted above him, pounding into him. Sweat dripped from his face, and he concentrated on the drops spotting Chris' taut neck. Too soon he could feel the approach of his orgasm, and he slowed his strokes - he didn't want it to end in anger. His rage was gone, anyhow, burned away by the fire flickering along his nerves. He shifted, positioning Chris' legs around his back again. He spit on his hand and reached between them, wrapping his fingers around Chris weeping cock.
Chris was panting, looking at him through narrowed eyes that signalled his approaching release. Toby bent his head, and they exchanged one last, lingering kiss, until Chris began moaning into Toby's mouth, and Toby could feel him come through his whole body. He buried his face in Chris' neck, biting the salty skin, biting back the words he longed to say as his own orgasm ripped through him.
They lay there a long time, until their pounding hearts had slowed against each other's chests, and Toby was soft enough to slip from Chris' body.
He rolled onto his back, and after a moment Chris got gingerly to his feet.
"You okay?" Toby asked.
Chris slipped into his jeans, then wiped his finger over his belly, through the smear of drying cum. He brought his finger to his mouth and sucked it briefly before answering. "I could spend the rest of my life letting you fuck me."
God, he looked beautiful, standing there like that. Jeans unbuttoned, showing a dark thatch of curly hair. His sculpted, sweaty chest shone in the low lamplight. His lips were full, red and swollen, and his eyes burned into Toby's with a desire their recent love-making hadn't diminished.
"I know," Toby answered sadly. "And I could spend the rest of my life loving you."
Chris flinched at that - he didn't look so hard now. His tough bravado was gone, leaving just a regular man, on the verge of losing something he was too stubborn to admit he wanted. He finished dressing and turned to Toby one last time. "Toby, I..." Toby waited, though he knew the words he needed weren't going to be said. "Come home, any time," Chris finished.
Toby could barely stand to look at him, the pain in his chest growing with every second they were still together. He managed the barest of a bittersweet smile, and shook his head. Chris nodded his understanding, and walked across the room. This time he didn't stop, didn't come back, and the door closed on that part of Toby's life.
He lay there a long time, not wanting to disturb the lingering thrum of his body, or leave the heavy smell of sex permeating the bed, all he had left of Chris. As he lay there, he thought about how he had just done the hardest, maybe bravest thing of his life. And he wondered, if he was so fucking brave, why did he just want to curl up into a ball and cry?