[Home | Quicksearch | Search Engine | Random Story | Upload Story]



Note: 'Missing scene' from "Family Bizness" (in which we saw Keller try to 'comfort' weeping Beecher by touching his dick. Hm. Nice try.)
Written for the OZ Lyric Wheel.
Lyrics: 'Space and Time' by The Verve

Comfort

by onozon


Title: Comfort (1/1)

Author: onozon

Subject info: Beecher/Keller

Disclaimers: Characters belong to Tom Fontana and HBO.

Note: 'Missing scene' from "Family Bizness" (in which we saw Keller try to 'comfort' weeping Beecher by touching his dick. Hm. Nice try.)

Written for the OZ Lyric Wheel.

Lyrics: 'Space and Time' by The Verve

*****

Comfort (1/1)

Sounds of strangled chokes woke Keller from his sleep. On instinct, like every other night, his eyes focused on the upper bunk, as if he could see Beecher through it, witness another nightmare. Following the sound, he turned over on his narrow cot, eyes piercing through semi-darkness of the pod. Tobias was leaning over the toilet bowl in the back, his body shaking.

"Beecher, what's the matter?" he asked as he got up, peering at the other man's back from his own shadowed corner. And wasn't it funny that he still had to ask, Keller thought to himself, with all the obvious miseries that kept falling upon this man, the last one being his wife's suicide.

"I fucked up my life. I completely fucked up my life. I'm all alone," Beecher cried, head shaking hopelessly, flung down in defeat.

Keller stepped closer. Slowly, his hands came up to caress Beecher's neck, sliding over rigid shoulders, before he leaned against him, his front molding along Beecher's spine. Toby's body fit perfectly to Chris' and he had to fight a satisfied smirk as his eyes drooped for a moment, enjoying this pending closeness. Rubbing Toby's tense back, feeling muscles contracting under his palms, Chris thought, 'Perfect.'

"No, you're not."

Isolation pressed down hard on Beecher with weight of Keller's touch, making things even more difficult, the realization even more striking. "I'm all alone," he sobbed, words reverberating all around him, never dying away, scratching his insides until he felt like screaming from raw pain they were leaving behind.

"No, no, you're not. It's all right," Keller reassured, words mumbled against Beecher's shoulder. "It's all right." One hand slid down Beecher's arm, until fingers traced Beecher's, still wrapped loosely around his penis, darting through the slit of his boxers.

'Perfect.'

Blood rushed through Keller's body, spiking, roaring in his ears, blurring his vision for a moment-- but the sensation was way too brief, because Beecher, as if burnt by Keller's touch, suddenly shoved him away, enraged, face twisting in pain no words could do justice, eyes red and glistening with tears. "Don't fucking touch me!" he yelled.

Then his back slid down rough concrete wall, until he was curled in the corner, his whole body convulsing in a rush of breathless, shallow sobs. Keller stood motionless just a step away, watching him from the shadows, regretting his actions instantly, hands rising in retreat. Seeing Beecher like this - literally pushed into the corner, down on his knees - made something burn in the pit of his stomach...something like - sympathy. If he knew any better, this wouldn't get to him. But it did, more than he was aware, certainly more than he was willing to admit.

Slowly, carefully, he crouched down, too, his eyes never leaving Beecher's face, lit with a streak of light that had found its way to the weeping man, caressing him right where Keller did moments ago. Maybe he should have just gone to bed, leave Beecher with his torments - alone, like he was supposed to; but against better judgement, against 'the plan', he never moved. And he knew exactly what he was doing to himself by doing this - by caring.

Toby's tears were evidence of pain Chris, too, was helping to free from underneath Beecher's defensive shields, day by day twisting his sanity and awareness into agony. And now he was seeing the proof of his subtle attacks for the very first time - face to face.

Toby's tears reminded him of his own tearless pain from long ago, and that distant memory hypnotized him; his heart skipped a beat. Every Beecher's tear burnt like acid, melting layers of indifference that he shielded himself with, ever since he had embraced his own solitude. And it hurt so good.

No, this wasn't part of 'Operation Toby', but he needed to twist the boundaries just a little, steal this moment for himself, unnoticed by Schillinger, or Beecher for that matter - to get close to Toby, close to feel, and remember.

Although his eyes were shut tight, and his face turned to the side, away from Keller, Beecher felt the other man's eyes on him, and his wail became even more desperate, as if he was breaking from the mere fact that he couldn't grieve alone, deprived of this basic human right - to be free to feel. Keller's stare stung.

Shaken from his silent reverie by rising despair of Toby's cries, carefully, Chris crawled closer to the blond man, until his back was resting against the wall, alongside Beecher's; he still didn't dare touch him, though.

Beecher immediately tensed against Chris' disturbing, obtrusive proximity, turned further into the corner. But there were walls all around him, those he could see, and those he couldn't, growing higher and higher, and there was no way out of here, he now knew for sure - there was no way away from this man either and, somehow, loneliness felt less like punishment. He was falling, endlessly falling, and he wished to God he crashed, and never felt again. But he did - right here, right now, and it hurt - being close to Chris, close enough to touch, but never really touching - it hurt so good sometimes. Just like guilt. Despair choked him 'cause he didn't want to feel guilty anymore.

Toby's high-pitched cry cut through the vast silence of Oz night. Keller winced. Knowing hack was probably already considering coming here and making Beecher shut up, Chris was now more than intent to console the other man, and this time for real. The last thing he wanted was for Beecher to lose his mind, get himself hurt, or end up in the hole. Losing him wasn't an option, not tonight. Not that Chris ever had him, of course - it was just that he felt safer having Toby around, where he could make sure Beecher wouldn't hurt himself, or get hurt. It was actually funny, and ironic, like almost every emotion that was ever true in Chris - because he was here for that reason exactly - to hurt. However, the pleasure would be all his own, when it came. What he didn't expect, though, was to find out Beecher was already wounded - damaged in ways that scared him, like the mere thought of how much that man could actually take, like...what was yet to come.

Another desperate cry cut the space between the two men.

Keller had to touch him now, whether Beecher allowed it or not. Before he even moved, though, Tobias suddenly turned in his place and threw his arms hastily around Keller's shoulders, his face pressing into Keller's neck. "Can you comfort me?" he begged through tears, voice as desperate as his bruising touch.

"It's all right," Keller whispered once again, this time painfully aware that it was a dirty lie, for the very first time disturbed by it. His hands still hovered in the air, over Beecher's shoulders, not touching.

"Make it all seem fine..." Beecher pleaded, griping Keller's shoulders blindly.

Finally, Chris reached one hesitant hand behind Toby's back, but just as he did, Beecher pushed against him with his whole frame, turning away once again, fighting the contact. Of course he had to know it was a lie, and no lie could make this disaster look good.

Keller wouldn't let go, though - he leaned closer, until Beecher's arms were pressed against his chest, restrained, until he felt every Beecher's shiver pass on to him. His fingers curled around Toby's upper arms, and he kept pulling him closer even as Beecher was left with no space to fight this, Chris getting him completely trapped. When Toby's resistance ceased, Chris reached to touch his face and cradled it closer to his chest, muffling Toby's cries against his heart, Toby's breath burning him raw right there. Chris had to close his eyes against sudden pain that ripped through his chest, right where Beecher's tears landed.

Beecher grabbed Chris' upper arms in one last attempt to yank himself free - he pushed against Chris, desperately - and then before Chris could even act on it, he pressed his burning face back against Keller's chest, arms slipping around Keller's torso. "Make it all seem fine..."

Chris swallowed hard. His hands slipped possessively around Toby's back, drew him in, held him in protective embrace, held him tight, to prevent possible further escape attempts. He began rocking them both slightly - to soothe, to calm, until Toby's cries subsided, and his breath evened.

After long, long minutes of almost silence, Chris put his hand under Toby's chin, tilting his head back to look into those haunted eyes; goose-bumps rose all over his body as Toby's beard brushed against his collarbone - it was almost-caress he yearned for, unguarded touch that belonged to their stolen, sleepless nights.

Toby's eyes were closed. He was so still, as if he was asleep; only he wasn't - Tobias rarely slept anymore. And right now he simply didn't want to know about this, about all the lies that got him to this moment, into Chris' arms - Keller knew. He caressed Beecher's burning cheeks with trembling fingers. He fervently wanted to kiss Toby's almost lifeless features, to quench his own ache by just one deliberate touch that would make them both feel less alone, less estranged, less...enemies. He sighed at that thought, and rested Beecher's limp head against his shoulder, still cradling it possessively, tenderly. This looked just as staged and forethought as one of their wrestling matches - just as unreal. Another lie.

Toby's gasps caressed Chris' neck, and Chris felt like purring, like moaning when needy hands gripped him closer, scratched his naked skin that felt like it was splitting open wherever Toby's fingers touched; Chris had to look at those hands, make sure the pain wasn't real, and this touch wasn't a lie. It wasn't. He pressed his face against Beecher's temple, and let himself get lost in the sound of their hearts beating against each other. Just as it started feeling less like a lie, he felt rush of familiar tingles run through his body; he gritted his teeth against the sensation, as it burnt his fingertips from the inside, undulating along his nerves, conducting him to bruise and - break. And then have unconditionally. It became part of the plan - his own secret plan.

There were moments when Keller could swear Beecher sensed all of it - saw through him, was ready to fight back, just like minutes ago when he pushed Keller away, disgusted. But right now, seeing Beecher at mercy in his hands, Keller felt overwhelmingly superior, and at the same time afraid of how easy it was to hurt the other man, how exposed Beecher let himself be, and how tempting the opportunity was. Even more frightening was realization of what he was capable of doing. So many times he had to fight temptation to ravish them, break them (but he always succumbed)-- the same challenge he fought every time Beecher was trapped beneath him, on the wrestling mat. But the truth was - Beecher was already broken, unlike the rest. The challenge was gone.

Or was it?

Chris knew for sure Beecher wouldn't do anything to stop what was coming, not really. Not because he didn't have it in him, but because pain was taking him further away from here - it was all about escaping this place, and for that reason pain was welcome. Toby fought isolation with more isolation, and even when he begged for comfort, he refused any possibility of it; Keller felt anger building inside him, because of his own incompetence to fill that void of despair, because he was being denied.

Once again he looked down at Toby's face, hidden from him now, buried in Keller's neck. His eyes drifted lower, following his hands as they traversed Beecher's pale skin gently, lovingly even. It still didn't look right, or real, or just not enough. Would it ever have felt right, Chris wondered.

Then his eyes found Beecher's crutch, exposed enough so he could see the tip of Toby's penis, still darting through the slit of his white boxers. Keller swallowed hard. What was it about flash that made him lose his mind? What was it about Toby's flesh that made him shatter into phantom pieces he feared he wouldn't be able to properly put together ever again, if he succumbed to this temptation-- not to the vice of skin, but to the vice of what was beneath it.

Darkness felt tight and moist and comfortably warm, and so accurate that it was easy to mistake it for numb, and all he had to do was keep his eyes shut and be safe there, on the other side, feeling but not seeing, hurting but not suffering the blows, falling and being caught somewhere in midair, alone but not lonely.

Toby's hand slid from Keller's shoulder, leaving a red mark that would certainly turn purple in a few hours - it was safe to let go, to let go to the fall, because he was already caught. His hand slid over Chris' naked thigh, and then came to rest in his lap, fingers brushing against his exposed member. It was safe to fall free.

Chris' eyes burnt, but he didn't dare blink. Uncertain of what he was seeing, uncertain of what it meant, he watched, mesmerized, as Toby's fingers curled around the head of his shaft, tugged it further out of his boxers. Chris could see it glistening with pre-cum that smeared over Toby's fingers. Obviously oblivious to everything around him, Toby stroked himself with deliberate ease, eyes still closed, mouth slack, murmuring, "Make it all seem fine..." Warm puffs of Beecher's moist breath tingled Keller's neck, just like those little, strangled sounds of pleasure...sounding so much like his nightmarish sobs. It was ironic, Keller thought, how Toby made it all sound alike - pain and pleasure. Yeah, this was comfort, and Keller knew exactly how easy it was to console the flesh, watching Beecher's despair ebb away with approaching orgasm. He wanted to move, painfully hard himself, but didn't dare disturb this. Eyes riveted to Beecher's cock, disappearing rhythmically in his pale fist, Keller strained to catch every sound, desperate-- he wished to God he could touch Toby, do it all for him, with him - for real. And that wasn't a lie. But all he could do was to hold Toby's straining body tighter, own it just a little, for awhile, if only in pretence. His tight grip soothed Beecher's sensitized flesh with force of yearning. Chris closed his eyes just as Toby's back arched, his body jerking under Chris' greedy palms as he muffled his moan of completion against the taller man's pulsing jugular.

Toby fell further onto him, spent. Then Keller brought his face to the stream of light to look at him one more time, after this almost-lovemaking, and this time Toby looked right at him, through him, eyes wide and...so far away. "I just can't make it alone," he whispered, and then his eyelashes fluttered and drooped as exhaustion, both physical and emotional, washed over him. He fell asleep, right there on the floor, in Chris' arms.

Keller rested his head against the wall and exhaled sharply. Without looking, he reached for Beecher's hand, still trapped between his legs, on his now limp cock. He brought it to his lips and kissed it. Taste of Toby's dried semen ripped through him, like drug, making his vision blur - instantly, his lungs hurt from sudden lack of oxygen; his body went rigid, and then he came without ever touching himself, only holding Beecher closer.

When his breathing slowed down to normal, Chris brushed strands of hair from Toby's forehead and watched his sleeping face - peaceful in his arms, and so near, like never before. Toby's tears dried just like his semen. There had to be a way to have him a little longer, to prolong this night, to touch the flesh, to get under his skin, to get inside, to comfort...before he did what he had to.

'Keep on pushing 'cause I know it's there.'

the end



THE VERVE : SPACE AND TIME


There ain't no space and time
To keep our love alive
We have existence and it's all we share
There ain't no real truth
There ain't no real lies
Keep on pushin' 'cause I know it's there

Oh, can you just tell me
It's all right (It's all right)
Let me sleep tonight
Oh, can you comfort me
Tonight (It's all right)
Make it all seem fine

I just can't make it alone
Oh, no, no
I just can't make it alone
Oh, no, no

There'll be no lullabies
There'll be no tears cried
We feel numb 'cause we don't see
That if we really cared
And we really loved
Think of all the joy we'd feel

Oh, can you just tell me
It's all right (It's all right)
Let me sleep tonight
Oh, can you comfort me
Tonight (It's all right)
Make it all seem fine

I just can't make it alone
Oh, no, no
I just can't make it alone
Oh, no, no
I just can't make it alone
Oh, no, no
I just can't make it alone
Oh, no, no

Ain't got no lullaby, no, no
Ain't got no lullaby, oh, no
There is no space and time
Oh, Lord
There is no space and time
Oh, Lord

We have existence and it's all we share
(We have existence and it's all we share)
Keep on pushing 'cause I know it's there
(Keep on pushing 'cause I know it's there)


Please send feedback to onozon.