by Riley Cannon
Title: The Things That You Do
Series: Ummm... I think it's the DI boys, but it might also be the
Halloween/Yardwork boys; possibly it doesn't matter
Author: Riley Cannon
Subject: B/K; AU; NC-17 for bathtub smut
Posted to: TS, TSXF, Unit B Archive
Feedback: Yes
Disclaimers: Tom & HBO own them; I only borrown them for non-profit
fun.
Summary: Toby comes home in a pissy mood, after a long, hard day, and Chris helps him get over it. Writing prompt courtesy of the marvelous Mav.
~The Things That You Do~
Toby stood on the sidewalk, hot and tired and fed up to here with the day and watched, almost beyond pissed off, as the yappy Jack Russell from next door trotted over, lifted its leg, and whizzed on the car. Job accomplished, the dog sat down then and looked at Toby as though daring him to come over and do something about it. Tempting though it was to go and punt the little yapper back over the fence, he settled for heaving a long-suffering huff and, gripping his briefcase, trudged up the steps to the house, tripping over the skateboard carelessly left out on the porch.
"Hey," he yelled out, temper threatening to boil over as he let himself inside, "what have I told you about leaving your toys out?"
"Actually my toys are all put away," Chris said, just coming downstairs.
And ordinarily just the sight of Chris, here waiting for him, would have been enough to lift and banish any cloud of gloom - but not this evening. No, tonight the sight of Chris looking relaxed in ratty jeans and a blue tank top, content with the world, just made Toby feel even grubbier and out of sorts. He smacked his briefcase down on the foyer table and snapped back, "I wasn't talking to you. Where are the kids?"
Expression neutral and tone of voice mild, Chris said, "Your folks came by and got them a little while ago; your mom scored tickets to The Lion King."
Fuck. Toby had been trying to get tickets for that, wanting it to be a surprise for all of them. "And it didn't cross your mind to call and tell me that?" he said, picking up the pile of mail left on the table and sorting through it, slamming each piece back down on the polished wood when he'd looked at it. "Maybe check it if was all right?"
"Didn't see why there'd be any problem," Chris said, still too mild for Toby's liking.
"Yeah, well, next time call." He smacked the last piece of mail down and looked around for something else to take out his frustrations on. When nothing presented itself, he headed for the kitchen, annoyed that Chris didn't tag along, annoyed he wasn't nagging him to find out what was the matter.
He stopped and glared around the tidy kitchen, not so much as pot of macaroni boiling on the stove or a sandwich waiting in the fridge. He grabbed a soda and walked over to the living room, grumbling, "You know the least you could goddamn do is have dinner waiting when I get home." The sight of Chris slumped down on the couch, feet up on the coffee table as he watched a ballgame just notched his bad moon higher, even as his brain sent frantic messages to his mouth to knock it off before he said something he'd regret.
Chris turned to give him a hard look, annoyance starting to flicker in his eyes. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me."
"Yeah - but I'm gonna pretend I didn't."
Toby huffed again, not really spoiling for a fight, but wanting some kind of release to all the built-up aggravation. He popped the top on the soda can and immediately knew that was a mistake as agitated root beer burst out, catching him right in the face.
To his credit, Chris' mouth didn't so much as twitch with a smile as he drawled, "Looks like ya need to go soak your head."
Wiping his face with a wad of paper towels, Toby glowered at the back of his head as Chris turned back around to resume watching the ballgame. His brain must have succeeded in getting the messages through, however, because he confined himself to one grumpy huff before heading upstairs. Nothing that had happened today was Chris' fault and he didn't deserve to have it all taken out of him. That wasn't even what Toby wanted. He wanted ... he didn't know what.
He sighed as he reached their bathroom, regarding the bedraggled figure he presented in the mirror, suit smeared with dirt and grease, a sticky smudge on his cheek that was composed of grease and root beer, hair wilted and scraggly from the heat and the soda. Not that that should have kept Chris from wrapping his arms around him on the spot. And that's what he wanted, for Chris to hold him close and listen to his laundry list of troubles, and promise him everything would be all right. That's what Chris did, always; Toby'd never known anyone so tuned into him, able to read his moods and know just what to do to make him feel better. It wasn't like him to just leave him floundering and sputtering. Of course - he studied his reflection again, guilt creeping into the mix now - he hadn't exactly given Chris much of a chance to do anything, had he?
Toby thought about that as he stripped down, leaving his clothes in a heap on the floor, deciding he'd probably feel better after a quick shower. Only ... he looked from the shower to the big, ebony tub, debating with himself, inclining more toward a long and leisurely soak.
He got the water adjusted just right, not too hot, not too cool, and lowered himself into the soothing water with a contented sigh, leaning forward to cup handfuls to splash over his head and face, washing away the grime and gunk, before settling back and resting his head against the cool porcelain, closing his eyes. He kept still at the sound of the door opening and closing and footsteps coming toward him, something soft, like a tank top, falling to the floor and then the sound of a zipper being drawn down.
Eyes slitted open, looking through his lashes, Toby watched a muscular forearm swirl through the water, cupping a handful of water to bring up and splash over his chest, long fingers caressing his skin. Lips brushed his ear, whispered, "Sit up," and he did, making room for six feet of hard-muscled perfection to climb in behind him, water sloshing up the sides of the tub. Chris settled back and drew Toby against him, nuzzling the nape of his neck. "So," one arm held him, the other hand stroking his hair, "wanna tell what the hissyfit was about?"
He managed to bite back an indignant huff this time, confining himself to an elbow jab that drew more of a laugh than an oof of discomfort. "It was not a hissyfit."
"Babe, I call `em like I see `em," Chris drawled, nuzzling the side of his neck now, both strong arms enfolding him, knees raised out of the water to enclose him even more completely.
Far from any sense of confinement, Toby only felt secure and treasured. All was as it should be. He never should have doubted. "It's going to sound stupid now," he said, pretty sure he could be content with just this.
"No it won't," Chris murmured the words against his throat. "Tell me."
"Well," he made himself even more comfortable, every brush of his lover's hands and lips soothing away more of the day, "I make it to the office, barely, because the car sounds like it's about to come apart any second--"
"You got transmission problems." Chris nuzzled his ear. "I've noticed you leakin' fluid."
He smiled. "I'll bet you have."
"So," Chris glided a hand over his chest, fingernails dragging against his nipples, "you get to the office..."
"And," Toby stretched against him, "everything's fucking pandemonium..." he went on, spinning out his trials and tribulations, from difficult clients to co-workers not pulling their weight, just one thing piling on top of another and then blowing a tire on the way home and having to change it while unhelpful assholes raced on by, "... and then even the fucking root beer's got in for me when I get home," he finished on a petulant note that even he recognized as ridiculous.
"Yeah?" There was a smile in Chris' voice but Toby couldn't hold that against him, especially when those magical lips and hands hadn't let up for a second. "Just one of those no good, rotten, miserable days, huh?"
"Umm hmm." He sighed and arched his neck for his lover to nibble some more, a shuddering moan escaping as gifted fingers grazed over his stomach, dipping into the water to curl around his cock. "... Chris..." He sighed the name, stretching out with his feet braced again the black porcelain, his head laying against Chris' shoulder as he watched those beautiful fingers weave their spell.
"Feelin' better?"
"Yeah, uh-huh." He nodded, gaze riveted to the beauty of his lover's hand sliding up and down his hard cock, thumb circling the tip and grazing back and over the slit. "Think I'm leaking fluid again."
Chris nipped at his ear. "Want me to check under your hood?"
"Mmmm ... yeah." Christ knew what he meant by the offer, but Toby was long past turning anything down. "Oh! Ohhhhh...." He bit his lip, arching his hips, legs spread so his feet were sticking off the sides of the tub as Chris reached between his legs, cupping his balls, rolling and squeezing them, those long fingers stretching to dance along his perineum and circle his anus, teasing him just enough to drive him nuts and want to beg for more. Feeling no shame about that, he reached up to grip the back of Chris' neck and urge his head around to claim a kiss, wet and sloppy and hungry, tongues swiping. He groaned his pleasure into his lover's mouth as Chris took hold of his cock again, giving him harder and faster even before he could demand it, not letting go until the last twinge of orgasm had shuddered through his body and spurted over Chris' hand, swirling away in the water.
"Oh Christ..." Toby panted, slumping against him, legs slipping back into the tub with a splash that sent sudsy water spilling onto the floor. "I love you."
"I know." Chris nuzzled his throat again, idly stroking his body once more, still cradling him with his own.
"Yeah? You do, huh?" Toby sat up, shifting around until they were face to face. "Maybe I could show you, though?"
Head cocked thoughtfully, Chris said, "Whatcha got in mind?"
He ran his hands up powerful thighs, along his ribcage and chest, cupped them around his neck as he leaned in for another kiss, slow and savoring, slipping his tongue inside as Chris parted his lips. "This," he murmured, "I had this in mind, and," he swabbed his tongue along the inside of Chris' lower lip before licking a trail along his throat, "this too," he massaged that pectoral swell, that fucking rack, dropping his head to lick and suck a hard little nipple. And the best sound he'd heard all day was the rumble of pleasure welling up from that magnificent chest.
"Anything else?" Chris was rubbing his back, squeezing his ass, watching him and wanting whatever Toby did.
A wide smile stretched his mouth as he let that sink in, as excited by that knowledge as by all the wet and naked Keller on display. He sat back, hands gliding up and down Chris' legs, knowing exactly what he needed to completely wipe out the first part of this day. He kissed the inside of one knee, brushed his lips higher, told him, "Stand up - I want to suck you."
Chris' eyes had been drifting shut as though weighed down by his lashes, but they opened wide now, like Toby wanting him could still hit him as a surprise. He moved, the water sloshing and streaming down his legs and belly as he stood and waited, sucking in a sharp breath, belly fluttering as Toby knelt and tickled his fingers up the insides of his thighs. "Thought the," Chris swallowed, "the idea was taking your edge off."
"Oh, trust me," Toby cupped his crotch, watched Chris' cock harden and lift as if seeking his mouth, "this takes my edge off nicely."
"Well if you're sure..." Chris planted his legs more firmly, one hand stroking back through Toby's hair.
"Beyond a shadow of a doubt, baby," Toby said, flashing him a wolfish grin as he wrapped one hand around that beautiful, delectable cock, other hand gripping his hip, and took a taste. One, long, slow lick around the head, then another, open mouth dragging along the shaft, tongue licking back up the underside, so fucking turned on by his lover's vocal pleasure, the tremors coursing through the powerful body, that he felt like he could come again just from that. Head bent, he took the tip in his mouth, sucking hard, opening wider to take more, to take it all, both hands gripping Chris' hips, fingers digging in hard enough to leave bruises as his lover fucked his mouth. He'd have bruises too; Chris was kneading his shoulders so hard, hands clamping down as his muscles tensed up just before he came in Toby's mouth.
"Oh fuck, Toby..." Chris' groan of satisfaction was deep and heartfelt, legs trembling now as his cock slipped from his lover's mouth, still spurting against his lips. He groaned again as Toby licked it up, looking grateful for Toby's strong hand holding him around the waist and lowering him back down into the tub. "I like the way you take your edge off, babe. Love you, Toby," he murmured, arms wrapped around him and pulling him for a long, long kiss.
"Nah," Chris dismissed it easily. "You were just cranky."
"No reason to take it out on you, though."
They were dressed now, Chris back in his ratty jeans and tank, Toby in a shorts and a t-shirt, neither bothering with shoes and out on the front porch now on this beautiful spring evening. It was warm and quiet, with nothing more important to do than slowly sway back and forth on the swing, enjoying the pizza Chris had ordered - although Toby was happy to defer to his companion when it came to twisting the caps off the Coke bottles.
Toby filched a mushroom off the pizza and popped it in his mouth, licking the sauce from his fingers - smiling at Chris following every move, not disappointed when Chris leaned over and kissed him, evidently not minding that he probably tasted like pepperoni.
"You really pissed about me letting the kids go off with your folks?" Chris sat back, one bare foot lightly caressing Toby's calf.
"No." He shrugged. "I've just been trying to get tickets; wanted to take you and the kids."
"Well, I got a feeling they won't have any problem with going to see it again."
He nodded, imagining that was likely a safe bet. "You don't have to clear everything with me first."
Chris reached over, knuckles brushing the hair at his temples. "I know." He smiled, fingers slipping around to massage the nape of his neck, tug at the curls clustered there. "Quit apologizing."
Lower lip pooched out, he said, "I thought you liked how I apologized."
"Yeah, well," Chris swooped in for another, quick kiss, "maybe save it up for later? `Less you want to put on a show for the neighbors?"
"That would be no."
"Thought so. Besides, this is good."
Yes, it was, it was the best. And when his folk's drove up, the kids piling out and running to join them, all three chattering at once about the play and how exciting it was, the day was absolutely perfect. They didn't even really need the ice cream Harrison and Victoria had stopped for - but that was no reason to turn it down, either.
~the end~
It's been a hard day's night,
And I've been working like a dog,
It's been a hard day's night,
I should be sleeping like a log,
But when I get home to you,
I find the things that you do,
Will make me feel alright.
You know I work all day,
To get you money to buy you things,
And it's worth it just to hear you say,
You're gonna give me ev'rything,
So why on earth should I moan,
`Cos when I get you alone,
You know I feel okay.
When I'm home ev'rything seems to be right,
When I'm home feeling you holding me
Tight, tight, yeh.
It's been a hard day's night,
And I've been working like a dog,
It's been a hard day's night,
I should be sleeping like a log,
But when I get home to you,
I find the things that you do,
Will make me feel alright.
You know I work all day,
To get you money to buy you things,
And it's worth it just to hear you say,
You're gonna give me ev'rything,
So why on earth should I moan,
`Cos when I get you alone,
You know I feel okay.
When I'm home ev'rything seems to be right,
When I'm home feeling you holding me
Tight, tight, yeh.
It's been a hard day's night,
And I've been working like a dog,
It's been a hard day's night,
I should be sleeping like a log,
But when I get home to you,
I find the things that you do,
Will make me feel alright.