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A million thanks to Rifka for beta-ing this for me and helping get it up to being postable. Please be gentle - this is my fist Oz fic, but I'd love to know what you think of it.

Until Toby

by Harriett

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

It wasn't supposed to happen this way.

There was nothing in the plan about love. It was all about paying out an old debt.

What the fuck was he supposed to do now?

Resting his head against the wall, he peered into the darkness, knowing there was nothing to see - this was solitary. Just a concrete cell of nothingness, and a dented old bucket.

Looking into the nothingness, his thoughts went back to the reason he was here, why he had been taken from the light and thrust back into the shadows, back to the place he had always been.

Until now.
Until Toby.

Why him, why now, why here, just why? None of it made sense.

Toby was just a man after all. Chris had been with men, in many different ways. Wasn't Toby just one more? Why was this different? It had always just been sex.

Until now.
Until Toby.

It wasn't like he'd never teamed up with another when he was inside, but it had always just been a way out of the boredom, to run a scam, or for protection.

Until now.
Until Toby.

It wasn't like he'd never led another person on, but it had always just been for the thrill.

Until now.
Until Toby.

What the fuck did Chris know about love... in his whole life he'd heard the words once, maybe, and that had been so long ago that he couldn't be certain how real it had been.

Maybe it had been something he'd dreamed up in a haze of alcohol and ecstasy; or maybe it was coke, maybe smack, maybe all of them together. Fuck if he knew. Maybe it had been one of his ex-wives trying to suck him into something.

But he'd looked into Toby's eyes as he said it. This was different. He didn't know how he knew, or how it was different, he just knew it was. The same way he knew he would do anything for Toby, just to see that same look again.

And that was the problem.

So much for "Operation Toby". There was no way Chris was gonna be able to keep it up now... even knowing that Schillinger was gonna kill him if he pulled out, there was no way Chris could keep going.

How the fuck was he supposed to sell Toby out to Schillinger now? It would be easier for him to cut off his own balls than for him to sell Toby out. But he knew that if he didn't give Toby to Schillinger, Schillinger was going to do a whole lot more than cut off his balls.

Not that Chris thought Schillinger was some insurmountable threat, but he knew from painful experience that Schillinger was more than willing to wait to exact revenge against someone - the fucker knew all about holding a grudge, waiting until someone thought they were forgotten, and then BAM - you were fucked, one way or another.

Remembering the past few weeks... he'd never felt like this before... like there was someone in the world who cared if he was alive... like someone cared that he had ever existed.

In his dreams Chris could see Toby grinning when he said something, not making him feel like he was stupid, just that what he'd said was funny, that Toby got the joke, that he understood what Chris was saying about life in Oz. The others would just look at him like he was from mars or something - they didn't get anything.

He could see Toby concentrating over the chessboard; see Toby patiently teaching him what seemed like a million rules for playing chess.

He could even see Toby covered in sweat, determined to beat him at wrestling. He could smell the musk of Toby's sweat; the faint pine of his after-shave, even the soap he used took on a different scent when applied to Toby's body (Chris knew, he'd nabbed a cake and had it stashed in his locker).

Oh god... Toby's body... Chris had been tormented by dreams of getting close to Toby physically, to be free to touch him, caress him, kiss him.

His body was fucking fantastic. Chris felt he could sit and look at Toby's naked body for hours. Christ, could you imagine the shit that would fly if anyone ever found out? Geez, he'd never hear the end of it.

Every time they wrestled, Chris would slip in a few seeming innocent caresses, grabbing his dick, or even his balls, pretending they were part of whatever move he was making at the time, but in reality they were the fuel for Chris' nightly fantasies of Toby.

Even here in the dark, dank cell, the stenches of countless other inhabitants, of shit and urine, overpowering the nostril-burning toxicity of the bleach and ammonia that were infrequently used to clean the cells, Chris could still smell Toby. The reality of where he was drowned out by the power of his fantasies.

Except that now they were no longer just fantasies. Toby had told Chris that he loved him, he'd been a willing participant in a kiss that Chris was convinced was gonna leave scars on his lips from the heat they had generated. If the hacks hadn't broken them up when they did, Chris would have fucked him right there in the laundry room.

As hot as Chris' dreams had been, they hadn't even come close to the power of that kiss. The slight mint of Toby's breath, the warmth of his mouth, the different textures of his teeth and tongue within it, the smoothness of his freshly shaved face, the scent of his aftershave, the tiny pain of where Toby's nails had gripped his shoulders as if to anchor Toby to Chris, to reality.

Half pissed on moonshine, feeling like a piece of shit coz even Bonnie had been able to find someone better than him, the last thing he had expected had been for Toby to come to him.

What the fuck was he supposed do now?

Here he was, Chris Keller, the king of the con, the sultan of scams, the prince of the ponzi... he'd always been the one in control of everything - even his marriages. Careful to get out before there was any risk of him getting hurt - never letting anyone or anything get close. Somehow Toby had gotten through his defenses, gotten under his skin and walked right into his heart - a heart Chris would have sworn he didn't possess.

Obviously he'd have been wrong.

The End


I Don't Know How To Love Him

I don't know how to love him
What to do, how to move him
I've been changed, yes really changed
In these past few days
When I've seen myself
I seem like someone else

I don't know how to take this
I don't see why he moves me
He's a man
He's just a man
And I've had so many
Men before
In very many ways
He's just one more

Should I bring him down?
Should I scream and shout?
Should I speak of love?
Let my feelings out?

I never thought I'd come to this
What's it all about?

Don't you think it's rather funny
I should be in this position?
I'm the one
Who's always been
So calm, so cool
No lover's fool
Running every show
He scares me so

I never thought I'd come to this
What's it all about?

If he said he loved me
I'd be lost
I'd be frightened
I couldn't cope
Just couldn't cope
I'd turn my head
I'd back away
I wouldn't want to know
He scares me so
I want him so
I love him so

Please send feedback to Harriett.