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Posted May 2005. Originally posted to TS April 2nd 2005, in honour of Meloni!Birthday

Happy Birthday, Keller!

by Erin

Chris bent over, one knee resting on the weight bench, lifting the heavy dumbbell in his right hand. He felt the muscles in his arm stretch and pull as he continued his reps, watching how his bicep bulged and flattened, over and over. He saw a trickle of sweat run over the smooth skin of his arm and thought about how he must look right now. Working out, his shirtless chest flushed and shiny with sweat, the perspiration outlining the curves of his muscles in the harsh light of the gym.

He glanced up saw some random fucker from Em City - skinny little shit, what was his name? Gregson? - looking over at him. Gregson seemed to be paying a lot more attention to Keller than to the speed bag he was punching and Chris couldn't stop himself from smirking at him. He knew perfectly well how damn fuckable he looked right now - Chris wasn't proud of very many things, but his body was his masterpiece. Working out was the only thing he was really disciplined with and it had paid off - he was built like a brick shithouse and he knew he could get anyone into bed if he wanted to. *Anyone* - women; men; nuns; straight, alcoholic pretty-boy lawyers...

He predictably started to smile to himself as his thoughts turned to Toby. His beautiful, maddening, endlessly intriguing Toby; who was now, after all this time, finally *his*. He had Toby and for the first time in his life that was enough - he didn't want anyone else. Including fucking Gregson over there who was now giving him a thoroughly blatant eye-fucking.

Chris's smile turned into his sexiest, most seductive grin, as he switched the dumbbell to his other hand and repositioned his body on the bench to give Gregson a better view of the goods. His hot blue eyes shone bright in the sunlight that made it into the gym as he raised his eyebrow suggestively at Gregson. Chris could barely hold back a laugh as Gregson faltered in his punching, letting the speed bag swing freely as he let his eyes roam over Chris's sexy body, following the movement of his arm as it lifted the heavy weight up and down.

`Stupid dumb fuck,' Chris thought, `Look all you want - you ain't getting shit'. He licked his lips slowly and watched as Gregson swallowed nervously in response. Shit, this was just too fucking easy. Chris Keller may have been getting older, but when it came to hunting prey he still had the juiciest piece of bait in the jungle. He decided to play with his catch a little more - hardly worth the effort since it was so unchallenging, but since when was Keller above inflating his own ego?

He put down the dumbbell and wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. Keeping his eyes locked on the now-breathing-heavily Gregson, who seemed to have forgotten all about the stationary speed bag in front of him, Chris then lifted his hand to his mouth and licked the sweat off with a careful swipe of his tongue. He nodded slowly to Gregson who was practically drooling by now.

`Yeah, that's right, dumbshit, come get it. You want it, don't you?' He barely suppressed the grin as Gregson started edging tentatively towards him. He casually turned away and started wiping himself off with the towel that had been slung over the weight bench. He sensed when Gregson stepped up behind him, but didn't bother turning back around, continuing to dry himself with deliberate slowness. Would the moron say something or would he scuttle off again if Chris didn't turn around? Thirty seconds passed and Chris could tell he was still there, still trying to work up the courage. Then he felt the soft tap on his shoulder. `Gotcha, motherfucker,' Chris thought, turning around.

He fixed his features into a menacing stare and glared at Gregson as though he'd just done something a lot worse than tap his shoulder. "Yeah?" he snapped impatiently.

Gregson practically went white and Chris had to smirk at the thoughts flickering so transparently across the dumbfuck's face, as he came to the conclusion that he'd obviously read Chris's signals wrong and had just landed himself in a situation where he could get shit beaten out of him or worse.

"Ah - nothing," he mumbled quickly, backing away.

Chris was tempted to prolong the torture and insist on asking Gregson exactly what he'd wanted, when he was distracted by yet another tap on his shoulder. He spun around again and was confronted with a far more welcome admirer.

"Damn, you cleaned up already? I was hoping I'd get to see you all sweaty," said Toby with a grin.

Fuck, Toby looked good today - in a baby blue shirt that brought out the colour of his eyes beautifully.

"Mmmm," said Chris, stepping closer to him, but not quite touching, "You saying I don't look sexy when I'm *not* all sweaty?"

"Hell, no, Keller - I'll take you anyway I can get you."

"Feeling's mutual, baby."

"Even if you are such an old man now," Toby laughed.

"Fuck you - I should never have told you when my birthday was."

"Like I wouldn't have read it in your file in Sister Pete's office, anyway?. Come with me, I want to give you your present."

"I've already got my present," Chris risked reaching down and cupping Toby's crotch even though he knew Toby hated him touching him during the daytime with other people around. So of course he had to do it as often possible. And the every time Toby let him get away with it (which wasn't that often) felt like small victory.

This time wasn't a victory - Toby quickly pushed his hand away and said "C'mon", leading him out of the gym.

Chris couldn't resist one last look at his at his earlier prey on his way out, but much to his dismay Gregson wasn't looking at him. Damn, Chris had been expecting him to still be staring at him with a kicked-puppy expression on his face. Chris's disappointment quickly turned to anger when he realized what Gregson *was* looking at - Toby. *His* Toby. `Don't even fucking *think* about it, you dirty little cunt,' he thought angrily as he quickly pushed Toby through the gym door and out of Gregson's sight. Well, that was one little fucker he was going to have to keep an eye on now - if he went anywhere *near* Toby with same moronic/horny look on his face that he'd had when he approached Chris, then he was going to fucking *kill* the dumbshit...

"Chris, what the hell is wrong? Why'd you push me like that?"

"Huh? Nothing. Where are we going?"

"The cafeteria."

"What? Lunch isn't for another hour."

"I know," said Toby mysteriously.

Chris knew he wasn't going to get anything out of Toby, so he looked at the hack who had escorted them from the gym door. "Why are you taking us to the cafeteria?"

The hack shrugged. "Apparently you two are helping out with something in the kitchen."

What the fuck? But Chris refrained from asking any more questions until the hack deposited them at the cafeteria door and then continued on his way. Toby led him inside where they found Ryan O'Reily sitting on the bench at the front of the kitchen. Ryan stood up as they walked over to him.

"Okay, here's the deal," he began bluntly, "You two are supposed to be helping me fix a broken oven before lunch - Christ only knows why they'd believe I'd pick you guys for something like that. Anyway, the hack that's supposed to be watching us has been paid off. The rest of the kitchen staff won't get here for another half an hour and until then I'll watch the door. Thanks for the generous payment by the way," he grinned at Toby.

"No problem - it's going to be worth penny," Toby replied.

"Ugh, spare me the fucking details," said Ryan, moving towards the door, "Remember, half an hour, no more."

"Toby - " began Chris.

"Shhh" said Toby, dragging Chris into the depths of the kitchen, out of sight of the rest of the cafeteria. "We've only got half an hour, don't fucking waste it with questions."

An excellent point, Chris decided, as he pressed Toby up against a table and proceeded to kiss the breath out of him. As Toby let out a soft moan and didn't even bother to stifle it, it suddenly struck Chris - they were alone. For the first time ever, completely and totally alone - no fucking voyeurs getting off on their exploits. Chris let out a moan of his own, and thrust his tongue deeper into Toby's mouth, twining his fingers in his curly hair and pressing his own hips harder against Toby's.

Toby responded with equal passion, driving Chris mad with desire. The unexpectedness of the encounter, the utterly surreal feeling of being all alone with Toby in the kitchen, was making him crazy, desperate with sudden need. He pulled his mouth away, grinding his hips harder against Toby, feeling the excitement rising between both of them.

"Oh god, baby, yes. Do you know what I'm gonna do? I'm gonna - "

"You're gonna do whatever the fuck I tell you to," said Toby definitively, surprising the hell out of Chris. Toby grabbed Chris's waist, spinning him around so that Chris was now the one pinned against the table. "It's your birthday, so I'm running the show, Keller - you're just gonna sit back and enjoy yourself, got that?"

Chris nodded breathlessly, incredibly fucking turned on by this aggressive side of Toby. Chris was usually the one in charge when it came to sex, but he enjoyed letting Toby take the lead sometimes - it was a control he'd never given up to anyone else. Which reinforced yet again the belief that Toby was special - he had something that none of the others had ever had, not even Chris's wives.

"Sit on the table," Toby commanded, and Chris obeyed, hoisting himself up onto the metal work surface.

"Lay back," came the next command. Once again, Chris did as he was told, lying down on the cool metal, with his legs dangling over the edge.

For a second, Toby just looked at him. Then his hands went to fly on Chris's pants. Chris bit his lip as the button was opened and the zipper pulled down. And then Toby's soft, warm hand was gently freeing his already hard cock from the confines of his underwear. Toby licked his hand, covering his palm with spit. He then massaged Chris's cock gently, smiling down at him. "How's that feel?"

"Oh that's good, baby. Harder. Please."

Toby made his strokes harder, pulling at Chris's tender flesh more quickly and firmly. "Oh fuck," Chris whispered, lifting his head to see the fucking beautiful sight of his own cock appearing and disappearing in and out of Toby's fist. Toby kept this up for minute before wrapping the thumb and index finger of his left hand around the base of Chris's shaft, gripping it firmly while he continued to pull even harder on Chris's cock with his right hand.

"Oh, shit, oh baby, *please*."

"What?" said Toby with a mocking smile.

"Oh that feels so good, please more."

"More what?"


"Tell me what you want, Keller. I won't do it if you don't tell me," Toby grinned.

Chris's thoughts were angry. `You bastard, you are having way too much fun doing this. I should turn the tables and teach you a fucking lesson... but... I... can't... oh *God*, this is good!'

"Touch my balls," Chris finally managed to whisper.

"There, was that so hard?" Toby laughed wickedly at Chris's moan of protest when he let go of his cock to yank down his pants - then the moan abruptly turned into a strangled shriek.

"What the fuck?" said Toby.

"Gah! Fucking cold!"

Toby laughed again when he realised Chris's nice warm ass had come into contact with the cool metal table, making him squirm.

"Don't laugh! God, you're an asshole."

"I'm sure you'll forgive me," said Toby, reaching up to fondle Chris's balls, gently rolling them between his fingers. As Chris started to moan appreciatively, Toby leant forward and started licking along the length of his penis.

"Shit, your tongue is hot," he murmured, "Feels so fucking weird when my ass is cold."

After about a minute Toby noticed he'd stopped squirming around as much. "Table starting to warm up?" he asked.

"Yeah, but...funny, I kinda wish it wasn't. Hot and cold at the same time feels...sorta good."

Toby suddenly gave him an absolutely wicked smile. "Fuck, I have got the *best* idea - don't go anywhere."

Chris practically howled in protest when Toby moved away. "Toby, what the fuck?! You can't just start sucking my dick and then take off - where are you going?" Chris knew if this was anyone but Toby he'd probably jump up and drag them back to the table. Instead he forced himself to wait impatiently until Toby came back.

"Took you long enough - come here."

"Chris, I was gone maybe twenty seconds, if that."

"Twenty seconds is a long fucking time when you're waiting to come - what were you doing?"

"Going to the freezer," said Toby, dropping something cold and wet onto Chris's bare stomach.

"Shit!" exclaimed Chris, rolling slightly so it slipped off him. Toby rescued the ice cube, licking the wet trail it had left along Chris's stomach. Then, smirking at Chris, he popped the ice cube into his mouth.

"What the fu - gah!" Chris cried, as Toby took his cock back into his warm mouth, alongside the cold piece of ice he held inside his cheek.

"Oh shit, don't, it's too - oh god!" The feel of ice along Chris's sensitive nerve endings was almost unbearably intense - and the feeling was only heightened by the moist heat of Toby's tongue and lips covering the rest of his shaft. He wanted Toby to stop; but at the same time he really, *really* didn't.

The inside of Toby's mouth was even wetter than usual as the ice cube melted rapidly. Chris was losing control - he couldn't hold on any longer, not when Toby was practically *attacking* him with such perfect precision, not when it felt this fucking *good*. He gave up the fight and came, shuddering helplessly, flooding Toby's mouth with hot come.

Chris came back to himself a few moments later, still breathing heavily. He noticed that Toby was now leaning over him, staring at him intently. "Are you okay?"

Chris licked his lips and managed to find his voice, "A lot better than that, baby."

Toby leaned down and kissed him. Not only could Chris taste his own come, but Toby's mouth was still cold from the ice cube and Chris enjoyed the novel sensation; Toby's crisp breath a faint echo of the cool sting he'd felt on his dick. Chris melted into the sweet, deep kisses and slowly realized he was on the verge of losing himself again. `How the fuck does he do this to me every time?' Chris thought to himself. He remembered the little scene with Gregson in the gym - where the hell was that hunter now?

He pushed Toby away, intending to regain the upper hand. "What's wrong?" Toby whispered, cupping Chris's cheek with his hand. Chris stared up into those blue eyes and remembered that he wasn't looking at a competitor - for once in his life this wasn't about power; it was about love - the love that was shining so clearly in Toby's eyes now. `That's what's different about Toby,' he thought, knowing now more than ever just what it was that Toby had that none of others did - his trust. Chris trusted Toby implicitly. The realization shocked, scared and excited him.

"Chris?" Toby whispered again.

"Nothing, baby. Come kiss me again before we have to go."

Chris pulled Toby back down on top of him, eagerly meeting his lips. A large part of him - the scared part - wanted to flip Toby over, `be on top', repay him in kind for what he'd done to Chris. To be in control.

But he didn't. Because another part of him was more than happy to lie here and take it. Give up control to Toby. Give up *everything*. Let Toby *take* him in the most primal sense of the word. `Oh fuck, this is so fucked up.'

"Toby," Chris breathed into his mouth, "I love you." He'd never meant those three words more than he did right now.

Toby moved back slightly and looked into his eyes. "I know," he whispered.

`No you don't,' thought Chris, `You really fucking *don't*.'



"Happy Birthday."


`For everything,' he added silently, `For the private blow job, for loving me, for being mine... and for making me *yours*.'

This was the best fucking birthday he'd had in a *long* time...


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