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It's just a small thing, and it probably comes from the fact that I like watching people watching other people. Hope you like it.
Beta'd by Erin.

Toby-baby

by Ralu.


"Look. It's one of their good days," Hill snorts, pointing at Beecher and Keller, chatting in front of the telly.

"Yeah, I wonder how long it will last," Ryan chuckles briefly, turning towards his brother, who's playing with his hair, slapping his hands: "Stop it, you're not a fucking school girl, Cyril."

The other man gives him a long, sheepish look, and reaches for Ryan's hair, this time around, stroking it backwards, giggling, making his brother smile before pushing his hand away.

"Go play with Hill's dreadlocks," he says.

"No way, man! Nobody touches my hair, okay?" Hill responds, trying to put on a straight face, as Cyril twists one of his dreads between his fingers.

But he lets him do it, anyway.

"Hey, I think there's your answer," Hill lets out, pointing again at the two lovebirds.

Keller's standing up near Beecher, who's still in his chair, seeming to completely ignore him. Both Hill and O'Reily can see Keller's hands clutching into fists, his figure shivering a little.

"And that means 'what' exactly, Beecher..."-- both men hear quite clearly (along with pretty much everybody else), 'cause Keller's *thisclose* to fucking screaming.

To that, Beecher finally DOES look at him. But he's lost his usual cold, dismissive, *I'm-smarter-and-way-better-than-you-'cause-I-went-to-Harvard-you stupid-fucking-highschool-dropout-cocksucker* attitude of his he loves so much to carry around the other man, sometimes. He touches Keller's hand, curling his fingers around his powerful wrist, and quietly whispers something to him, the other men can't make out. Anyway, that seems to do the trick, 'cause Keller goes all slack and - a bit reluctantly - sits back down in his chair. Both Hill and Ryan notice the fact that Beecher's still holding his wrist, while leaning over towards Chris, really, really close, whispering. Keller just nods, chewing at his lower lip.

And, a bit later, as if to show to everybody he hasn't completely lost it (even though, his intention is seen as the exact opposite), Keller slowly *glues* his leg to the other man's, and slips his knee underneath Beecher's, twisting his ankle around Toby's leg.

And, yeah, there's a collective amused sigh coming from O'Reily's and Hill's table.

"Jesus, he's so completely fucked up," O'Reily mutters, as if in amazement at Keller's behavior.

"You know, it's like they're married, or something. Beecher's playing him like a flute," Hill says, shuffling cards.

"Little lawyer-boy seems to have that talent, and he doesn't even know it, apparently. It's fucking hilarious, come to think of it, just how much K-boy's into him."

"Yeah... It will be quite a *spectacle* when Toby-baby's gonna stroll out of Oz, that's for sure," Hill chuckles, trying to pronounce the words with an English accent, as if to match Beecher's often stilted manner of speaking. (duh, blame Harvard!)

"*Toby-baby*?" Ryan asks, grinning so widely now, he seems like *he*'s the mentally deranged O'Reily, not his hair-twisting brother.

"What, you didn't know? That's how he calls him, I heard him a couple of times. He calls Beecher *ba-by*, in that weird, husky voice of his."-- leaning over to O'Reily, who's now bent over the table, laughing so hard, he seems close to pissing his pants: "I'm serious, O'Reily. Anyway, Beecher hates it. And we both know how funny Toby-baby can be when he gets all huffy and blushes all over, right?"-- Hill says, smiling like the connoisseur that he is of the B/K saga: "I'm tellin' ya, being so close to those guys is like watching some t.v. drama all the time. Never a moment of boredom."

"*To-by...ba-by*," Ryan repeats, trying to imitate Keller's voice, still choking with laughter.

Cyril looks at them both, and smiles childishly, completely unaware of the real reasons behind his brother's happy mood. But, who the hell cares? Ryan's genuinely happy, and that's always a good enough reason to smile, right?

"Things are gonna be a shit lot more boring without crazy Beecher around here, that's for sure," O'Reily ads, looking at the man in question.

"Yup, no more Toby-baby around, and Keller's gonna climb the fucking walls, all by himself in here."

"Or jerk off 'til he's gonna be eighty or something, and he won't be able to get it up anymore."

"Hey, won't we all?!...," Hill says, mockingly philosophical.

"Don't know about you, bro'," Ryan says, pointing at Hill's crotch -- "...but I'm planning to keep my dick happily erect 'til I finally end up in hell, if you get my point. And after."

"Fuck you, O'Reily," Hill responds, suddenly annoyed by the other man's remark: "Maybe you'll hook up with poor, sad, lonely Keller over there. God knows he hates being alone, right? He'll close his eyes," Hill ads, imitating a sleepy Keller, holding an imaginary Ryan in his arms -- "...and call you baby...Toby...baby."

"In your dreams. Or his," the other man replies in a suddenly not-so-amused snarky tone.

"Well, I guess his dreams are out of the question, somebody else got there first," Hill says, looking at... well, that certain somebody: "Seriously, Keller's gonna go fucking nuts in here, without Beecher."

"Unless, of course, Beecher stays *in*," Ryan whispers, his tone saying a whole lot more than his words.

"He's not that stupid."

"Maybe. Still, I have a hard time imagining K-boy letting go of his favorite plaything. Especially now, after all the shit he crawled through trying to get him."

"Beecher's not that stupid," Hill repeats, as if trying to convince himself of the truthfulness of his statement.

"Yeah...but Keller's enough of an obsessive, manipulative bastard to *make* him stupid," Ryan replies, throwing another look at the two men, still hooked in front of the t.v.

Beecher's obviously interested in whatever shit's on t.v., while Keller just...seems to be interested only in Beecher. Looking at him, hawk-like profile clearly visible, almost predatory, determined, (Jew-like, Schillinger would probably describe it, if he hadn't fucked that particular presumably *impure* slut no White Man should ever mingle with)...dangerous. Intent and a need to possess so obvious it's almost blinding, or...embarrassing. (Depending on where you generally stand.) And...something else. Beyond possession, or that stupid cockiness coming from the fact that he's finally got what he was after. Something disturbing. Simply because it is so difficult to recognize. Affection. And fear...of losing him. (Maybe)

"If they keep this up," (--whatever *this* might be) "things are DEFINITELY not gonna work out okay for either of them," Ryan points out, after a long moment of silence.

"Amen to that," Hill says slowly, still watching them.

Sitting so terrifyingly close to each other, the two men seem to be about to naturally morph into one being.

---the end---
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