Food For Thought

by Lisa H

This is a little something inspired by a comment made in a private e-mail by Loranova and is dedicated to her.

"What's the matter?" Toby hung his head over the edge of his bunk, wondering at Chris' restlessness.

"I dunno, shit, I guess I'm still hungry." Chris flopped from his stomach to his back, then sat up on the edge of the bed.

Toby smiled at him through the darkness. "You want me to come down there?"

"Nah, not unless you've got a watermelon hidden on ya."

"That might be kind of about a grape?"

Chris gave a small chuckle, but Toby could tell it was obligatory. He lay back on his bunk and heard Chris do the same a moment later.

"I'm so sick of apples and oranges I could puke."

Toby smiled at that. "I never imagined you as the fruit-loving type. I always pictured you as getting by on beer-nuts and pizza."

"Yeah, I did a lot of that, but man, when I was a kid my mom used to drive us out to this little fruit stand every weekend during the summer and we'd load up. Then Kitty was a health food freak - she lived on yogurt, fresh fruit and granola. So I developed a taste for's just something else to miss."

Toby knew that was the main problem - Chris' real gripe was about being denied something, and this just happened to be his topic of the week. Everyone went through it -just last week he thought O'Reily was going to lose it, jonesing for a certain kind of pastrami sandwich he used to get all the time. He talked about it non-stop for two days until everyone threatened to beat the crap out of him if he didn't shut up. Food was a very popular subject around here, and one that many obsessed on. Not just because their usual fare was so plain and monotonous, but also because it could be such a gratifying and even sensual experience, to eat or drink something that you really loved, and it often brought up good memories, like Chris' weekend drives with his mom.

Chris' mood lasted several more days. He picked at his food, and had turned his frustration on Toby more than once when he had tried encouraging Chris to eat more. Toby took it in stride, snapping back a couple times but mostly letting it slide. It all came down to the unyielding weight of time and Chris was just feeling the wearing grind of it more than usual. It was the enemy of them all, and as much as they tried to fill the unending hours, there were always more in a day than they could cope with. Inevitably, the left over time was spent in thoughts of what they couldn't have or do, or what they would have done differently, if only.

Four days after Chris' bad mood had started Toby was trying to reign in his own good mood as he got ready for a visit with his dad and kids. As he stood at the sink brushing his hair, Chris came up behind him and adjusted the collar of his shirt. "I love it when you get all primpy," he whispered into Toby's ear. This caused a shiver to run through him, and he wondered if maybe this was the beginning of Chris pulling out of his funk. They sat together on Chris' bunk as Toby pulled his shoes on. "Sorry I been such a shit lately."

Toby paused a moment to look at him, then went back to his laces. "You haven't been a shit, Chris. Jesus, you do pretty good for someone who -" he bit his lip.

"For someone who's gonna to die in this place?" Toby looked at him again, his remorse for the comment evident on his face. "It's okay, Tobe. It's not like I don't think about it all the time." The lighter atmosphere vanished as Chris moved behind Toby and stretched out on the bed. "You go have a good time with the family."

Nice going, Beecher, Toby thought to himself. Be sure and remind him of everything he'll never have as you trot off to the family you'll have waiting for you when you get out and leave him behind. Chris had turned on his side and merely grunted when Toby said good-bye.

An hour later, he was grateful to find Chris in the same position, snoring softly. He put the small paper sack his dad had given him in his locker, and then gently shook the sleeping figure. "Hey, it's about time for count, wake up."

That night, a couple hours after lights out, Toby slipped from his bunk. Chris hadn't asked him to come down earlier and he hadn't offered. The sex the past couple nights had been good as always, at least in the physical sense, but Toby suspected that Chris felt like he did - it had been something to do. Tonight neither had seemed up to it, in a manner of speaking.

Keeping half on eye out for the hacks, Toby crept to his locker and removed the sack. "Whatcha doin'?" The loud whisper from behind startled him, and he jerked around. "Shit! I thought you were asleep."

Chris was on his side facing Toby. "Why?" he asked, obviously intrigued. "You hidin' something from me?"

"Not anymore." Toby moved to the bed and motioned for Chris to sit up and give him room. They sat facing each other, legs crossed, clad only in their boxers. Toby tilted the paper sack and two large peaches rolled out onto the bed between them. "I hope you like 'em. Dad didn't go for bringing a watermelon in."

Chris looked at Toby briefly, his expression muted, before picking up one of the fruits with both hands and bringing it to his nose. He inhaled deeply and his eyes closed with pleasure - he sat like that for several seconds, and Toby was transfixed by the image. Here was this big, tough, testosterone driven man - a killer, for God's sake, transformed by the smell of a peach.

Keeping the peach to his nose, Chris looked at Toby over the top of it, his eyes piercing through the dark into the other's. "I love peaches, baby." Toby smiled, overwhelmingly pleased. "I know it's not much, but I was hoping it would make you feel a little better."

Chris just smiled, and closing his eyes again took a huge bite of the ripe fruit...and it was very ripe. The juice from it ran down his chin and the inside of his arm. Chris moaned at the taste and took two more bites, losing himself in his senses of taste, smell and touch. He opened his eyes and held the peach out to Toby. "Some?" Toby shook his head. "I'll get some of the next one. I'm enjoying you enjoying it."

Chris continued eating, but with his eyes on Toby. If Beecher was getting a kick out of watching him eat, he was getting just as big a kick out of watching Toby watch him eat. Those beautiful blue eyes were glued to Chris' mouth, and every time he took a bite Toby's mouth would open slightly in parody, his tongue occasionally slipping out to run across his lips. "Are you sure you don't want some? There's just a couple bites left."

Toby shook his head and whispered, "no." He was completely captivated in watching Chris. There was juice all over his lips and chin, and his arm was coated with it. Toby bit his bottom lip and groaned softly as a drop fell on Chris' thigh. Chris smiled. "I don't suppose there are any napkins in that bag?" Toby looked up to see that Chris was done, just as he popped the pit into his mouth and began sucking on it.

"Nope, no napkins. Give me your hand." Chris did as he was told.

Toby held him with one hand around the sticky wrist, lifting the wet arm slightly and then began licking and sucking a clean path starting at his elbow. Chris' other hand rested on Toby's knee, gentle strokes turning to rougher clenches as the sensation from Toby's mouth and tongue intensified. Reaching the wrist, Toby held Chris' hand with both of his and began a prolonged cleaning, sucking for several moments on the sensitive skin. Chris took the peach pit out of his mouth and laid it on the sack he had set to the side, afraid he would inhale it as his breathing quickened and grew harsher.

Toby looked up, catching Chris' eye, then very deliberately and slowly sucked a sticky finger into his mouth. The taste was exquisite - the delicious, forgotten sweetness of the juice mingling with Chris' own unique flavor. Their eyes locked, he repeated the motion with all the fingers, moving each between his lips several times, then running his tongue along the spaces in between. Chris pulled his eyes from Toby's to watch as his fingers disappeared into that warm, wet mouth, causing him to moan and whisper his lover's name every few moments in his growing desire. Each time Toby heard his name spoken in that low, rough voice he would suck a little harder, which in turn would cause Chris' breath to catch, and then call out softly again. After he finished with the thumb, Toby ran his tongue to the center of the calloused palm and began tracing an ever-widening circle. He was bent over slightly now, and Chris moved his hand from Toby's knee to his hair, stroking slowly at first, then more urgently to match the pace of his breathing. "Fuck, babe, you're drivin' me nuts...c'mere."

Toby ignored him, instead turning Chris' hand over and licking in one long stroke from wrist to fingertip.

"Toby, I'm serious...I want"

At that, Toby's already stiff cock jumped and became even harder. He released the hand, then bent further and gently sucked at the drop of juice on Chris' thigh. He let his tongue stray upward, moving as far as it could under the edge of the boxers. He could feel his lover's whole body twitch, and he paused to look at him. He was lying back now, supporting himself on his elbows, eyes closed but for little slits through which he had been taking in the sight of Toby bent over him.

Toby was surprised that Chris had been a passive participant for this long, but it pleased him that he was able to do something for the other man. Pulling at Chris' legs, he straightened them out on either side of himself then moved to a kneeling position. Gripping Chris' hips, he once again bent down. He placed his open mouth on the thin cotton of the boxers, blowing out a quick, hot breath against the hardness hidden beneath. Chris' whole body jerked, and he sat up to grab handfuls of Toby's hair, first pushing his face against his straining cock, then pulling him up and sliding his tongue into the willing mouth. He tried pulling Toby closer, but with him on his knees it was proving difficult.

Toby shifted again, wrapping his legs around Chris' waist and they began a slow yet forceful grind against each other. Chris tried to continue the kiss, but Toby kept avoiding the searching lips, instead kissing and licking at the now tacky juice that covered Chris' chin.

Chris growled out his frustration, "Goddammit, kiss me!" Toby pulled back, his smile fading as he looked into eyes darkened with want. He felt his stomach flip with desire as he slowly moved his mouth to join the other, running his tongue across both lips, one at a time. "Mmm, you taste good." He could feel a smile, and then his bottom lip was pulled into the moist heat of Chris' mouth, where it was sucked on as though it were candy, the tip of Chris' tongue flicking across it before releasing him. "You do, too." They began kissing, starting out slow and sensuous, but Chris was obviously not in the mood for slow and sensuous. He wound one hand through Toby's hair, the other against his back, pulling him impossibly closer. The kiss deepened and picked up urgency until Toby felt he was the second thing to be devoured by Chris tonight.

He was pushed back on the bed, and they both scooted up until they were stretched out, Chris on top, lining his throbbing erection up with Toby's to continue the friction they had started. Chris was practically attacking him, moving against him almost desperately, biting his neck and then moving back to plunder his mouth. Toby felt helpless under the onslaught, and while just a few weeks ago he might have panicked and fought against being in such a position, he simply surrendered this time, trusting that Chris wouldn't go further than he was comfortable with.

He could feel the tension in the body covering his increase, and knew that Chris was close - he was also as he matched every thrust against him. He released his grip on the strong shoulders and slid his hands down, his intention to strip them of their boxers. "Chris, wait, let's take these off," he whispered as he tugged at the waistband.

His wrists were gripped and brought up to be held tightly on either side of his head. "Can't wait, baby, can't stop." The words were hot and ragged in his ear, almost a sob, and the sound of them, the knowledge of Chris' imminent release brought him to his own edge. He wrapped his legs around the hard, broad back and began whispering hoarsely, "Come for me, Chris, come for it now."

Chris groaned, letting go of Toby's wrists and twining their fingers together. He pushed against Toby one last, painfully hard time. "Oh fuck, baby, fuck yeah...oh Christ!" As he stiffened, Toby pulled down as hard as he could with his legs, pushing himself up at the same time, biting back a loud groan as he came a moment later. Chris shuddered as he collapsed, burying his face in silky hair, Toby once again amazed by the intensity of their lovemaking as he lay panting beneath him. The difference between this and what he had experienced with was like it wasn't even the same act...kind of like apples and oranges.

They lay there awhile, regaining their breath, though it was a little difficult for Toby to do with Chris boneless on top of him. He finally slid off onto his side, keeping one leg and arm draped across his sweaty lover. "Let's just lay here until someone tells us to move, 'kay?"

Toby turned so they were facing each other, lightly kissing a still sticky cheek. "Okay."

"Toby," Chris was suddenly looking so intently at him it made him feel a little skittish. "Thank you."

"It was nothing, just a peach."

"Toby, I said `thank you'. Now what do you say?"

Toby averted his eyes, feeling like a reprimanded child, knowing that Chris wasn't going to let him get away with saying it was `nothing' when it really was something so much more than `just a peach' and they both knew it. It gnawed at him sometimes, the way he still tried to affect a flippant attitude where he and Chris were concerned. Chris often let him get away with it, understanding the upheaval of emotions this relationship put him through, but not this time. Toby was secretly pleased by this...he was glad to have the opportunity to do something like this for his lover, and he shouldn't try to hide the way it made him feel.

Looking back to Chris' face, he whispered, "I say - you're welcome, Chris, and I'm glad I could do something to make you happy."

"That wasn't so hard, was it?"

Toby shook his head, and they moved closer to each other, arms winding and legs scissoring until they were as close as possible. Toby shifted down a little so that he could tuck his head under Chris' chin, bringing them even closer.

"You know what I could go for right now?" Chris asked.

"Clean underwear?"

"What, you got a not so fresh feeling down there, Tobe?"

"I can handle it if you can. So what could you go for right now?"

"A chocolate milkshake...a real one, real milk, real ice cream, not some processed shit. Damn, you think Daddy could arrange that?"

"Jesus, Chris, you wanna turn my father into your food mule?"

"Well hell, I wouldn't be askin' him to hide anything up his ass."

Toby shook his head and laughed softly. "I guess I can talk to him."

Chris stroked Toby's hair. "Good night, baby. Hey, let's get up early and have the other peach for breakfast."

"Sounds good...good night, Chris." But Toby didn't sleep. He lay there for the next half hour, until the hack roused him back to his own bunk, feeling Chris relax against him and wondering if Harrison really would consider bringing a chocolate milkshake his next visit.


Please send feedback to Lisa H.