FIC: Touched (Oz, PG)
Title: Touched
Rating: PG (mild language)
Word Count: 1,555
Setting: Story takes place after the knife fight in the gym in "Secret Identities" (S3E7). Canon up to that point, then AU.
Prompt: "You have an angel's touch."
Note: Written for the 2017 Oziversary Fest at oz_wishing_well.
With a grunt, Chris bent down and tore the lid off the cardboard box. The storage room seemed unusually warm and stuffy today, and he had to pause to catch his breath before lifting the reams of copy paper out of the box.
Perspiration formed on his forehead, and he felt a bead of sweat slide down his face. Chris dropped the heavy stack of paper into place on a shelf, then used the hem of his wifebeater to wipe his brow.
The ventilation system must be fucked up again, he mused.
Chris smirked. Or ...
He pulled his wifebeater up over his head and tossed the shirt onto the floor.
"Show-off," said a voice from the dark recesses of the room.
As Chris chuckled softly to himself, there was a short knock on the door. It opened and Fiona Zonioni stuck her head into the room.
"Hey, Sweetie," she crooned. "I got something for you."
She entered the room pulling a cart loaded with various computer parts.
"McManus told me to bring these down here," Fiona explained as the door closed behind her. "He said you'd know what to do with them."
"Yeah, I got it," Chris replied. He waved his hand in the direction of the opposite wall. "Just leave 'em there."
Fiona pushed the cart to the side of the room, then turned around to face Chris. She stood there wordlessly, looking him up and down. She gave him a wicked little smile and made a show of fanning herself.
"My, it's mighty hot in here," she declared.
"Yeah," Chris casually agreed. He propped an elbow against the storage rack. "I noticed."
Fiona took a few steps closer to him. "And I know how to make it even hotter," she purred seductively.
Chris heard a snort from the back of the room.
Upon reaching him, Fiona ran a red-tipped finger down the length of Chris's bare torso. "How'd you like a blowjob?" she asked, her eyes wide with desire.
"Go for it!" whispered the voice from the shadows. "I'll enjoy the show!"
Chris slowly exhaled and shook his head. "I'll pass, thanks. No offense."
Fiona's smile faded, and the lust in her eyes turned to sympathy. "You need to move on with your life, Keller," she said gently.
She gave the waistband of his pants a short tug, and Chris narrowed his eyes menacingly.
Fiona got the picture. She quickly pulled her finger away and headed toward the exit. As she opened the door, she turned around to look at Chris. "You know he's never coming back," she reminded him quietly. Then she was gone.
"Ha!" mocked Chris. "What the fuck does she know?" he called into the shadows.
Toby slowly emerged out of the darkness. A warm, ethereal glow illuminated the soft, beautiful features of his face. He absentmindedly toyed with the gold-tasseled belt tied loosely around his flowing white robe.
He approached Chris. "You could've accepted her offer," Toby informed him with a smile. "Remaining chaste for the rest of your natural life isn't exactly a realistic resolution."
Chris ignored his comments. "Where ya been, Tobe?" he asked. He returned Toby's smile with one of his own and softly added, "I’ve missed you."
Toby's wings spread open slightly, then settled back into place. Chris basked in the movement, feeling as though someone had opened and closed the door of a warm oven.
"I’ve been spending a lot of time with Vern on Death Row," Toby answered.
Chris's smile faded. "Whataya doin' that for?" he asked suspiciously.
"I wanted him to know that I've forgiven him," Toby explained, "and I've been suggesting that it isn't too late for him to repent his sins."
"Yeah? And how's that goin' over?"
"Not so well," Toby replied with a frown. "He seems to be under the impression that I'm a ghost who's haunting him. I think I may have driven him insane by accident."
Chris laughed bitterly. "It's the least he deserves," he proclaimed. He folded his arms across his chest and added, "I can't wait for him to fry. I wish I could kill that motherfucker myself for what he did to you."
Toby shook his head vigorously, knocking his halo slightly askew. "No, Chris, no," he implored him. "Don't talk like that."
Toby moved closer to him. Looking Chris directly in the eyes, he pleaded, "No more killing, all right? And you must learn to forgive, too. Otherwise, my mission will have been in vain."
Chris stared back into Toby's eyes and saw a serenity there that extinguished the rage simmering inside him. He slowly dropped his arms back down by his sides. "You really think I got a chance of gettin' into heaven?" he quietly asked.
"Of course!" exclaimed Toby in surprise. He waved a hand in front of himself. "My presence here wouldn't be possible if you didn't."
Chris glanced down. He studied Toby's bare feet for a moment, then instinctively leaned into Toby's warmth, attracted to it like a moth to a flame. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and was suddenly reminded of a summer breeze... Toby smelled vaguely of freshly-cut grass, mixed with, perhaps, a hint of jasmine.
Chris opened his eyes again. He stared at Toby, then whispered, "You’re one sexy angel, ya know that?"
But Toby didn’t reply. He simply stood there, gazing back at Chris, the desire in his eyes a reflection of Chris's.
Swallowing hard, Chris murmured, "Touch me, Toby."
Toby sighed longingly, but he said, "I can't. You know what happens."
"I don't care," Chris declared emphatically. "Touch me," he repeated.
Chris saw Toby's willpower break.
Very slowly, Toby reached up with his hand, cupping it as he drew it close to Chris's cheek. Then he abruptly stopped. He hesitated briefly and dropped his hand back down.
Disappointment momentarily surged through Chris until Toby stepped toward him, closing the gap between them until mere inches separated them. Toby tilted his head slightly, and Chris felt as though his prayers had been answered as he realized what Toby was about to do.
Toby's lips met his. For a split second, Chris felt their sweet softness, and the already-heavy weight in his pants came to life. But that feeling of bliss was quickly shattered as a jolt of electricity, one with the force of a lightening bolt, shot through him. It began at his mouth and spread rapidly throughout his body... down and out his arms, down through his dick, down his legs and out his toes... an explosive ball of fire, completely consuming him.
Then it was gone as quickly as it came, and Chris found himself kneeling on the storage room floor, gripping the edge of a shelving unit for support, panting and alone. He wanted to call out to Toby, let him know that he was all right, that what he'd just experienced was ten times more euphoric than the most intense orgasm he'd ever had. Unfortunately, however, Chris was incapable of forming any kind of coherent speech.
Suddenly, the door to the storage room flung open. And there stood Kareem Said.
Said entered the room, and, looking up from the floor, Chris noted the concern on his face. Said rushed over to him and held out his hand. Chris grasped it and was pulled to his feet.
"I heard you shouting from down the hallway," Said explained. "I thought I'd better check to see if you needed help."
Chris tried to collect himself. "I hit my kneecap on the corner of this rack," he said in between breaths. "Hurt like a bitch."
Said nodded his head. "Well, as long as you’re all right... " he warily replied, then he turned back toward the door.
As the lingering effects of Toby's kiss pulsed through him, Chris reflected on the circumstances of Toby's death and Said's role in it. And he thought about what Toby had said to him.
"Hey, Said. Wait."
As Said looked back at him, Chris tried hard to swallow his feelings of anger and resentment.
"I want you to know," Chris continued slowly, "that I don't blame you for Toby's death."
Said raised an eyebrow skeptically.
"At least, not anymore," Chris clarified. "I know you had Toby's best interests at heart. You were just tryin' to make him feel better about himself... about all the shit he'd done, and all the shit he'd had done to him."
After a beat, Said confirmed his assessment with a nod.
"And I think it worked," Chris concluded. More than you could ever imagine, he thought to himself. "He died a better man."
Said stared at him for a moment, then he gave Chris the slightest of smiles. "Thank you, Keller," he quietly said. He paused and added, "I miss him, too, you know."
Said then turned back around and left the room.
Chris rubbed his hand over his face. With a sigh, he once again bent down over the cardboard box to grab another stack of copy paper. As Chris lifted the paper onto the shelf, he sadly realized that the temperature in the room had dropped a good ten degrees since Toby left.
Then Chris noted the aroma of freshly-cut grass that remained in the air, and the hint of jasmine, and he smiled.
Rating: PG (mild language)
Word Count: 1,555
Setting: Story takes place after the knife fight in the gym in "Secret Identities" (S3E7). Canon up to that point, then AU.
Prompt: "You have an angel's touch."
Note: Written for the 2017 Oziversary Fest at oz_wishing_well.
With a grunt, Chris bent down and tore the lid off the cardboard box. The storage room seemed unusually warm and stuffy today, and he had to pause to catch his breath before lifting the reams of copy paper out of the box.
Perspiration formed on his forehead, and he felt a bead of sweat slide down his face. Chris dropped the heavy stack of paper into place on a shelf, then used the hem of his wifebeater to wipe his brow.
The ventilation system must be fucked up again, he mused.
Chris smirked. Or ...
He pulled his wifebeater up over his head and tossed the shirt onto the floor.
"Show-off," said a voice from the dark recesses of the room.
As Chris chuckled softly to himself, there was a short knock on the door. It opened and Fiona Zonioni stuck her head into the room.
"Hey, Sweetie," she crooned. "I got something for you."
She entered the room pulling a cart loaded with various computer parts.
"McManus told me to bring these down here," Fiona explained as the door closed behind her. "He said you'd know what to do with them."
"Yeah, I got it," Chris replied. He waved his hand in the direction of the opposite wall. "Just leave 'em there."
Fiona pushed the cart to the side of the room, then turned around to face Chris. She stood there wordlessly, looking him up and down. She gave him a wicked little smile and made a show of fanning herself.
"My, it's mighty hot in here," she declared.
"Yeah," Chris casually agreed. He propped an elbow against the storage rack. "I noticed."
Fiona took a few steps closer to him. "And I know how to make it even hotter," she purred seductively.
Chris heard a snort from the back of the room.
Upon reaching him, Fiona ran a red-tipped finger down the length of Chris's bare torso. "How'd you like a blowjob?" she asked, her eyes wide with desire.
"Go for it!" whispered the voice from the shadows. "I'll enjoy the show!"
Chris slowly exhaled and shook his head. "I'll pass, thanks. No offense."
Fiona's smile faded, and the lust in her eyes turned to sympathy. "You need to move on with your life, Keller," she said gently.
She gave the waistband of his pants a short tug, and Chris narrowed his eyes menacingly.
Fiona got the picture. She quickly pulled her finger away and headed toward the exit. As she opened the door, she turned around to look at Chris. "You know he's never coming back," she reminded him quietly. Then she was gone.
"Ha!" mocked Chris. "What the fuck does she know?" he called into the shadows.
Toby slowly emerged out of the darkness. A warm, ethereal glow illuminated the soft, beautiful features of his face. He absentmindedly toyed with the gold-tasseled belt tied loosely around his flowing white robe.
He approached Chris. "You could've accepted her offer," Toby informed him with a smile. "Remaining chaste for the rest of your natural life isn't exactly a realistic resolution."
Chris ignored his comments. "Where ya been, Tobe?" he asked. He returned Toby's smile with one of his own and softly added, "I’ve missed you."
Toby's wings spread open slightly, then settled back into place. Chris basked in the movement, feeling as though someone had opened and closed the door of a warm oven.
"I’ve been spending a lot of time with Vern on Death Row," Toby answered.
Chris's smile faded. "Whataya doin' that for?" he asked suspiciously.
"I wanted him to know that I've forgiven him," Toby explained, "and I've been suggesting that it isn't too late for him to repent his sins."
"Yeah? And how's that goin' over?"
"Not so well," Toby replied with a frown. "He seems to be under the impression that I'm a ghost who's haunting him. I think I may have driven him insane by accident."
Chris laughed bitterly. "It's the least he deserves," he proclaimed. He folded his arms across his chest and added, "I can't wait for him to fry. I wish I could kill that motherfucker myself for what he did to you."
Toby shook his head vigorously, knocking his halo slightly askew. "No, Chris, no," he implored him. "Don't talk like that."
Toby moved closer to him. Looking Chris directly in the eyes, he pleaded, "No more killing, all right? And you must learn to forgive, too. Otherwise, my mission will have been in vain."
Chris stared back into Toby's eyes and saw a serenity there that extinguished the rage simmering inside him. He slowly dropped his arms back down by his sides. "You really think I got a chance of gettin' into heaven?" he quietly asked.
"Of course!" exclaimed Toby in surprise. He waved a hand in front of himself. "My presence here wouldn't be possible if you didn't."
Chris glanced down. He studied Toby's bare feet for a moment, then instinctively leaned into Toby's warmth, attracted to it like a moth to a flame. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and was suddenly reminded of a summer breeze... Toby smelled vaguely of freshly-cut grass, mixed with, perhaps, a hint of jasmine.
Chris opened his eyes again. He stared at Toby, then whispered, "You’re one sexy angel, ya know that?"
But Toby didn’t reply. He simply stood there, gazing back at Chris, the desire in his eyes a reflection of Chris's.
Swallowing hard, Chris murmured, "Touch me, Toby."
Toby sighed longingly, but he said, "I can't. You know what happens."
"I don't care," Chris declared emphatically. "Touch me," he repeated.
Chris saw Toby's willpower break.
Very slowly, Toby reached up with his hand, cupping it as he drew it close to Chris's cheek. Then he abruptly stopped. He hesitated briefly and dropped his hand back down.
Disappointment momentarily surged through Chris until Toby stepped toward him, closing the gap between them until mere inches separated them. Toby tilted his head slightly, and Chris felt as though his prayers had been answered as he realized what Toby was about to do.
Toby's lips met his. For a split second, Chris felt their sweet softness, and the already-heavy weight in his pants came to life. But that feeling of bliss was quickly shattered as a jolt of electricity, one with the force of a lightening bolt, shot through him. It began at his mouth and spread rapidly throughout his body... down and out his arms, down through his dick, down his legs and out his toes... an explosive ball of fire, completely consuming him.
Then it was gone as quickly as it came, and Chris found himself kneeling on the storage room floor, gripping the edge of a shelving unit for support, panting and alone. He wanted to call out to Toby, let him know that he was all right, that what he'd just experienced was ten times more euphoric than the most intense orgasm he'd ever had. Unfortunately, however, Chris was incapable of forming any kind of coherent speech.
Suddenly, the door to the storage room flung open. And there stood Kareem Said.
Said entered the room, and, looking up from the floor, Chris noted the concern on his face. Said rushed over to him and held out his hand. Chris grasped it and was pulled to his feet.
"I heard you shouting from down the hallway," Said explained. "I thought I'd better check to see if you needed help."
Chris tried to collect himself. "I hit my kneecap on the corner of this rack," he said in between breaths. "Hurt like a bitch."
Said nodded his head. "Well, as long as you’re all right... " he warily replied, then he turned back toward the door.
As the lingering effects of Toby's kiss pulsed through him, Chris reflected on the circumstances of Toby's death and Said's role in it. And he thought about what Toby had said to him.
"Hey, Said. Wait."
As Said looked back at him, Chris tried hard to swallow his feelings of anger and resentment.
"I want you to know," Chris continued slowly, "that I don't blame you for Toby's death."
Said raised an eyebrow skeptically.
"At least, not anymore," Chris clarified. "I know you had Toby's best interests at heart. You were just tryin' to make him feel better about himself... about all the shit he'd done, and all the shit he'd had done to him."
After a beat, Said confirmed his assessment with a nod.
"And I think it worked," Chris concluded. More than you could ever imagine, he thought to himself. "He died a better man."
Said stared at him for a moment, then he gave Chris the slightest of smiles. "Thank you, Keller," he quietly said. He paused and added, "I miss him, too, you know."
Said then turned back around and left the room.
Chris rubbed his hand over his face. With a sigh, he once again bent down over the cardboard box to grab another stack of copy paper. As Chris lifted the paper onto the shelf, he sadly realized that the temperature in the room had dropped a good ten degrees since Toby left.
Then Chris noted the aroma of freshly-cut grass that remained in the air, and the hint of jasmine, and he smiled.