by Riley Cannon
Summary: If I remember right, Aline had wondered if the prisoners were taken out of their cells to shower, during that 2-week lockdown, and speculation ran to perhaps they might have had to take sponge baths, and when she couldn't quite find a way to use a scene like that she suggested I might take a crack at it, and this is the result (which some have already seen). And if you want to imagine this takes place in my "The Stake, etc." universe, no one will object. ;)
And dedicated to Aline, for a fun idea.
"Working Up a Lather"
Toby grumbled sleepily and rolled over, reaching for the warm body sleeping beside him - the warm and muscular body that should have been stretched out beside him. Frowning, he shifted around and knuckled his eyes, the shadowy pod coming into focus. That focus abruptly sharpened and narrowed down to one image as he discovered where his bedmate had gotten to, and he settled down to make himself comfortable and enjoy the show.
Enough light found its way into the pod to reveal Chris in all his naked splendor, over at the sink and washing himself, imbuing even that simple action with delicious sensuality. And Toby was absolutely riveted, almost envious of that bar of soap as it slipped and slid over Chris' skin, the same way his hands and mouth had mapped that territory just a little bit ago.
He bit his lip, watching Chris work the lather over his chest, remembering that rich swell of pectoral muscle under his palms, how hard those nipples had been and the way Chris moaned as he sucked them. Toby's lips parted, breathing harder as he watched the soapy foam glide down his lover's flesh, over his belly and soaking in to the dark hair at his groin, spilling onto his thighs. He licked his lips, his memory of making that same journey vivid in every detail: kissing his way over those hard abs and feeling the muscles quiver under the brush of his lips and tongue; tearing what he still swore was a giggle from his lover as his tongue had tickled around that same navel now dripping water as Chris squeezed the washcloth over his chest and it washed away the soap, trickling along the same trail of fine, dark hair Toby had kissed as he had grown closer to his destination.
He slipped a hand under the covers to stroke himself, eyes drifted half-closed as the image of Chris splayed out on this bunk superimposed itself in his head over the beguiling tableau at the sink. Chris... sprawled out and soaking up each touch, long fingers working into his hair as Toby had buried his face in that groin, breathing in the rich and musky smell of him as sharp, crisp hair tickled his skin, and he dragged his lips along the hard, beautiful length of Chris' cock, tasting him for the first time, loving the taste and the feel of him in his mouth like he had not imagined in even his wildest fantasies.
He slipped out of the bunk, stalking up behind him, the bare concrete wet and soapy under his feet. He didn't care about that. He had an agenda, and it was achieved as his arms went around Chris' waist and he took the washcloth from him, drawing it lightly over the body he had been besotted with even when he was angry enough to kill him, even before he'd been able to admit he wanted this.
"Sorry," Chris whispered, "didn't mean to wake you."
Yeah, right. Toby smiled, though, kissing the nape of his neck. He nuzzled his ear, whispering back, "If I wash your back, will you wash mine?"
A deep rumble of pleasure welled up from the magnificent chest and Chris turned to face him, hands sliding up his naked back to cradle his head. "Any time, baby," he murmured and went in for a kiss to make it a vow.