by Riley Cannon
Diclaimer: Tom Fontana & HBO own them; only having non-profit fun with them.
~Come On, Come On~
"Touch me, babe," Chris whispered against Toby's cheek. He groaned as his lover's gentle fingers skimmed over his ribs and curled around his waist. God, it was so good. So good to be close like this and able to breathe in the clean and soapy smell of him. So good to touch him and hold him and kiss his mouth. He ran his hands up into Toby's hair, tilting his head up to claim another kiss. Toby's lips parted to him and Chris slipped his tongue inside to flick against the roof of his mouth. His breathing was ragged, like Toby's, and he shuddered with pleasure as those square hands tightened on his waist and slid up his back-
He looked over at Warden Glynn standing outside the bars and radiating how pissed off he was to be there. Chris wasn't exactly thrilled for him to turn up right then, either; five, ten more minutes would have been way better. But he played it cool, taking his time about removing his hand from his pants and sauntering on over, not about to feel embarrassed.
The conversation didn't take long and Chris thought he'd made his point. What he told Glynn was even the truth -- it just wasn't all of it. He did want to get back in circulation and show those Aryan motherfuckers he wasn't running scared. They'd try something, sure they would, and he'd have to watch his back like never before. It was worth it, though. He had something to fight for now, something to live for now. He had Toby, and no way was he going down.
Well, not like that anyway, he thought to himself, smiling with the anticipation of it as he got comfortable on the bunk again and picked up the abandoned skin mag, idly leafing through it. Tomorrow, Glynn had said; tomorrow he would be back in Em City, back with Toby and able to claim his reward.
Although ... Chris frowned over that, some hunch telling him that might be the wrong way to look at it. It was okay, though. He could worry about that later. The words weren't important. He'd done what Toby asked and that was all that counted, Toby would forgive him now. All he needed to dwell on was showing Toby how much he really did love him, how good it could be between them. And the only thing sweeter would be when it played out for real, not just in his head.
Stretching out on the bunk, he hiked up his shirt, running one hand over his chest as he looked at the picture in the magazine, some chick straddling a bike and showing her silicone tits to the world. Eyes drifting shut, he changed that picture in his head and let the magazine slip from his fingers to the floor as he lost himself in the fantasy. Chris fingered his nipples, his other hand working into his pants again as he filled in the details...
They were out in the desert, California maybe, and the sky was so hot and blue but even it couldn't compete with Toby over on his bike, straddling it and looking like he enjoyed the way it felt between his legs. He was cleanshaven, beause he did look so damned good without that crazy beard, and he was peeling out of his green t-shirt and smiling over at him, wanting Chris to come over. No way was he turning down that invitation, either. He crossed to the bike in two quick strides, roasting in his leathers - but he shivered as Toby's fingers reached for the zipper, knuckles brushing his skin as Toby slowly worked the zipper down.
He shuddered, hands buried in Toby's hair as the blond head bent toward him, lips brushing his chest and over one nipple. He tugged Toby's head up again, needing to kiss him, wanting those kisses like he'd never wanted anything else in the world.
Toby scooted back on the saddle and Chris climbed on, facing him and wrapping both arms around him tight. And that was good -- but better was Toby holding him back just as tight, kissing him so deep and hard and hungry, wanting him just as bad. He had to hear the words again, though, the sharpest pleasure of all surging through him as Toby's lips brushed his ear and he whispered, "I love you.
Cradling his head, Chris brought Toby's face back to him, pressing soft and slow kisses to the corner of an eye, the tip of his nose, his mouth, lingering and tasting him. He nibbled Toby's bottom lip and caught it between his own, tenderly scraping it with his teeth before soothing it with a swipe of his tongue. He could feel Toby pressing into him, feel his cock getting hard as Toby's arms wound around him even more snugly, one hand digging into his scalp as Toby turned up the kiss, pushing his tongue into Chris' mouth and moaning with the excitement they were both feeling.
They climbed off the bike, never taking their eyes off each other as they finished stripping themselves bare, Toby never shying away as Chris looked his fill. "Oh, Christ, Toby," he murmured as he reached over to touch, fingers trailing along the strong neck and sweeping the breadth of one shoulder, skimming along a collarbone that looked so delicate and fragile but felt strong as steel beneath his fingertips. His hand slid to cup the nape of his neck and bring him closer so Chris could taste his mouth again, wrap him up in his arms and hold him tight -- resisting as Toby tried to slip free. "Toby..."
He was so afraid of losing him; so afraid if he let go Toby would slip away forever. But when Toby did escape his embrace all he did was smile at him and touch his face, and grasp his hand to draw him down to the blanket spread out across the hot sand. Chris sank down there, feeling the softness of the cloth, the desert heat against his back -- Toby's heat as his lover settled over him, watching his face, brushing soft kisses over his naked skin.
Toby rocked back on his heels, looking his fill, sky blue eyes raking along Chris' body and eating him up. Only ... there was something different about how Toby looked at him, like Toby wasn't just turned on by his body. It was like Toby saw something more, wanted more than to just fuck him, and that wasn't something Chris had ever known before. He craved more of that, almost as bad as he wanted to give it back.
He reached up and grasped one of those broad shoulders, tugging him back down, loving the feel of Toby stretched out over him, and raising his knees and parting them so Toby would fit even more snugly. Eyes closed, head pressed into the blanket, he moaned as he Toby nibbled along his throat and pressed against him, so badly wanting to surrender completely and be claimed by him. "Fuck me, Toby," he whispered, pressing up against Toby, his fingers digging into Toby's shoulders and arms as he pulled Toby closer, pulled Toby into him. "Fuck me." He growled the words, almost shaking with the urgent need to feel Toby filling him up--
And his eyes snapped open, darting around the cell in confusion for a moment as realities collided and left him feeling kicked in the gut. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He rolled over on his side, burying his face against the flat, hard pillow and closing his eyes, trying to get back to the fantasy, aching to feel Toby's kisses and the sun caress his skin ... and let Toby fuck him?
He sighed and stretched out more, thinking about that, picturing it happening - him sprawled on his back or his belly, Toby's cock buried in his ass, pumping in and out, hard and fast ... and felt himself getting hard again, like he could really feel it, like it could really be good.
He rolled over on his back again, one arm flung over his forehead as he gazed up at the ceiling, imagining that he was looking into Toby's eyes as they fucked ... as they made love ... and that every dream he'd ever had was shining back at him from those eyes.
Tomorrow -- he'd be back with Toby tomorrow, and he would see all those things, he would be forgiven. He could hang on a few hours more with that to look forward to.