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Cooling Heat

by CatHeights


Keller yawned as he watched Hoyt slam a scrawny looking guy face first into the door. Blood spurted from the guy's nose. What was his name? Roger, no Dillon, Dick? What the fuck did it matter? He didn't give a shit. The hacks stormed over to subdue Hoyt, and Keller continued to stare, his eyes growing somewhat unfocused.

It was the middle of winter, but inside Oz, it felt like a summer heat wave. Well, except there was no sun, no humidity, and it all smelled wrong, like someone wouldn't stop burning toast. Keller couldn't understand why they didn't just turn the fucking heating system off. He'd rather freeze. Besides, he doubted enough chill could get into this hellhole to freeze them anyway.

What dickhead had decided they could control things better by putting the prison into lockdown? Excessive heat and a small space was a great fucking mix. People kept trying to kill their podmates. Apparently it was never too hot for murder.

Keller turned away as the hacks dragged Hoyt out of his pod. He slid off his boxers—not that being naked offered any relief—flopped down on the bottom bunk and watched as Beecher washed up at the sink. Why bother? It was too hot for water to offer relief for long. With disgust, he realized watching Beecher wasn't arousing him at all. He was too damn hot. That was just wrong.

He closed his eyes and clenched his fist. He was so afraid of snapping, so afraid of hurting Beecher. Christ, he didn't want to fuck this up. He couldn't fuck this up. The call of "lights out" echoed through the prison, but the meager darkness couldn't touch the temperature. It was like trying to rest in hell—heat all around you and raging within you.

Something wet touched his chest, and he opened his eyes. Toby was wiping him down. Keller felt his chest tighten at the sight. The strength of the emotion knotting inside him shocked him. He hadn't known he could care this much.

God, don't let me fuck this up.

"No fucking point. It'll dry in a second," Keller said. His fingers brushed against Beecher's, tangling in the wet bit of cloth Toby was using.

Toby smiled as he moved the cloth and their fingers downward. "I would have thought you'd be used to the heat. After all, I've heard plenty about your adventures in Vegas."

"They got air conditioning in Vegas. Only the morons walk around outside."

"I think the temperature's dropping."

"Yeah?" Keller said. He exhaled as Beecher dragged the damp cloth across his groin. It was almost instinctive the way his hand reached upward, fingers sliding into Toby's hair and guiding him down for a kiss.

"I thought it was too hot," Toby whispered against his lips.

"Different kind of heat." Keller smirked as his fingers found the slit in Beecher's boxers. He rubbed his thumb across the tip of Beecher's cock. Toby inhaled sharply, a surprisingly soothing sound.

"I think I'm overdressed for the weather in Oz today." Toby stood and removed his boxers.

Keller watched, one hand dangling over the side of the bunk while the other toyed with the cloth Toby had left on his stomach. Arousal coiled through his body. Oh yeah, this was more like it.

"Chris, move over," Toby said.

Keller turned on his side and moved back as far as he could to make room on the small bunk for Toby. Once Toby was sprawled beside him, he squeezed the cloth so that the last remaining droplets it held fell on Toby's hip. As his thumb smoothed a droplet over warm skin, an image of Toby resting by the side of a pool, water soaked skin glistening in the sun, flashed in his mind. He tossed the cloth behind him and closed his eyes, imagining he could smell the scent of chlorine.

Toby hooked a leg through his, so that their cocks rubbed against each other. Oh, shit yeah. "Toby, this is a fucking fantastic idea."

"I know."

He didn't need to open his eyes to know Toby was smiling, but he wanted to see that smile anyway.

Toby ran a finger along Chris's cock. "Show me how you like it."

His breath caught, oh god, yes. He wrapped his hand around Toby's cock, and gave it a slow, firm stroke, thumb sliding across the tip, and Toby copied his movements.

Keller let himself get lost in instructing Toby through touch. He alternated their stokes, going slow and then fast, bringing them both so close to release and then stopping. His cock throbbed in Toby's hand; Toby's cock throbbed in his hand. For a few seconds, Keller listened to their breathing and felt the ache of want. Then with a smooth, slow stroke, he started the cycle again.

It was Toby who came first with a gasp and a strangled, "Chris."

The feel of Toby coming in his hand was enough to set Keller off. As he came, he pictured a wave breaking against his body, the water shocking his muscles into relaxation and rinsing tension away.

A few moments passed before Keller opened his eyes. He wiped his hand off on the sheet, and smiled to see Toby doing the same thing.

"I think it's getting cooler," Keller said. At least he felt cooler, that burning rage inside of him temporarily quenched. He lazily traced a finger along Toby's chest.

"Good. You okay?"

"Shit yeah." Keller smiled. "Thanks."

"Anytime," Toby said, looking relaxed and rather pleased with himself.

Rightfully so, Keller thought.

As his eyes closed, the image of Toby poolside came to mind again, and Keller swore the pod smelled less like burnt toast and more like chlorine. He took a deep breath and fell asleep smiling.

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