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Notes: Prompt: "old and kinky; "gratitude". Also, a basket with tiny pumpkins that my neighbor gave me, and a desire to write something seasonal. "Thankful" is a continuation of "Saucy", although they both stand alone, too. Cross-posted to hardtime100. Thanks: to my most-generous beta michele659, who answered my Post of Distress & offered to help. Thank you, thank you! All remaining mistakes are my own.
"What else?" Chris's voice crept up his bare skin an inch at a time.
"I'm- I'm thankful for uh, not having to work in the dress factory..."
"Nobody likes working there, Tobe." His tongue flicked out to lap at Toby's collarbone.
"Also, I'm thankful for the fact that there's a wall separating us from Busmalis and Rebadow..." Toby groaned quietly as Chris's mouth closed over a nipple.
"Yeah, I'll second that. Those poor fucks up on the top floor, gotta stare at each other and everyone around `em." Chris shook his head.
"I'm... um..." Toby found it hard to concentrate when teeth were nipping at the skin of his chest.
"C'mon Beecher, nothing closer to home?" His voice was muffled, but Toby could still hear the smirk in Chris's voice.
"Thankful, I'm thankful for- for the Latinos, because they're the reason we're in lockd- Jesus! Chris." Toby sucked in his breath when Chris's fingers moved down his stomach and teased at the skin just under the waistband of his boxers.
"Yeah, Tobe? Somethin' else you're thankful for?" Chris punctuated his sentence with open-mouthed, sucking kisses delivered to each of Toby's ribs.
"I know what you're after, Keller." Toby threaded his fingers through Chris's hair and yanked.
The anticipated handjob ended abruptly. Chris looked up at Toby expectantly. "Oh yeah? Do tell."
Toby stroked his fingers down the side of Chris's face and rubbed his thumb over Chris's bottom lip. "It's not really something that I'm thankful for, it's someone."
"And this someone doesn't have things that keep you satisfied?" Chris snorted his displeasure.
"Oh, yes, this someone does indeed." Toby wriggled around on the bunk until he was eye level with Chris, still cupping the side of his face in one hand, both of their heads on the pillow. "There are his feet, first of all, because mine are always cold, and his are always warm. His eyes. He watches out for me. His voice and hands: they caress me like it's all they know how to do, like that's their purpose in life, to talk to and touch me. His mind, because he's smart, funny. His body, because it's strong and beautiful."
Chris stared at Toby hard, wanting to believe.
Toby smiled. "And finally - and this is the most important thing - his cock. Because damn, can he fuck."
Simultaneously, they broke into hushed laughter and Chris leaned forward so their foreheads touched. "Beech, you want to fuck, all you gotta do is say so."
"I'm thankful for that, too." Toby grinned easily, and then kissed Chris firmly, his tongue demanding entrance into his mouth. They rolled until Toby lay on top of Chris, one thigh settled between Chris's legs. "Mmm. How long have you been hiding this from me?"
Toby ground down into Chris's erection.
Chris chuckled quietly. "Uh... right when I started thinking about walls made outta Plexiglas, and those two old coots gettin' a free show every night."
Toby reared up slightly, his mouth open. "Thinking about Agamemnon and Bob made you hard?"
Chris grabbed hold of Toby's ass and pulled him closer. "We-elll, it was more about having an audience." He thrust his hips up against Toby.
"But it was partly because of them? Added together, they're like a hundred and fifty years old. And - we have an audience all the time!"
"Shit, Tobe, forget I said anything. You gonna fuck me or not?" Chris ran his hands up Toby's back, tugged on his hair, traveled down his arms.
"Actually, I'm a little concerned about this developing fetish for voyeuristic old men, and-" Toby's breath left his body in a loud exhalation as Chris rolled them over again and straddled him.
"Christ, but you can talk. Toby, you know I love listening to you, but right now I'd really rather hear you makin' different kinda noises." Chris had taken off his pants, had Toby's boxers at his ankles and was slicking up Toby's cock by the time he stopped talking. He handed the jar of Vaseline to Toby. "Help me out, Beecher; I'm ready to be thankful too."
Toby looked at him thoughtfully, but dipped his fingers into the jar and urged Chris to move up so that his knees were on either side of Toby's chest. Toby smoothed one palm down Chris's ass, then gripped the cheek hard and pulled. He ran his fingers down Chris's hard cock, under his balls and further back. Teasing Chris's hole, he let the tip of his finger slip in where it was met with muscled resistance. Toby let go of Chris's ass cheek and then slapped it as hard as he could from the awkward angle. Chris nearly sat up in surprise, and Toby shoved two fingers inside, both men groaning as Chris tightened around them.
"Why so tense?" Toby grinned up at Chris.
"Well, now I'm thinkin' about old fuckin' peeping toms, thanks a lot," Chris griped.
Toby pulled at Chris's hips with his other hand, opening his mouth and wiggling his tongue. "Whiny. Get up here. Nobody but you and me here now, and I want to fuck."
Chris pushed his dick into Toby's mouth as Toby pushed another finger into his ass. Chris's body trembled for a few seconds, and then he started to move slightly, back and forth; he thrust shallowly into Toby's mouth, then back, spearing himself on Toby's fingers. Toby licked and slurped, his tongue circling the head of Chris's dick, his fingers moving, searching. His own cock had no stimulation and his body cried out for him to rectify the situation. Shakily, he pulled his fingers free and let Chris's dick slip from between his lips. Toby pushed and encouraged him move down the length of his body. He groaned as he watched Chris's cock leave a saliva-wet trail down his chest.
Chris cocked an eyebrow at him. "You want something?"
"I want everything," Toby growled.
Chris blinked, and then looked at him with eyes that showed only desire. "Take it," he rasped.
Toby dipped into the jar again and slicked his cock. Chris lifted up enough so that Toby could slide inside. "Ohhh, God..."
Toby couldn't control himself. His hips jerked upwards again and again. Chris bore down on him, his hands anchored on Toby's shoulders, his hot breath prickling the skin of Toby's neck. For a few minutes, time stretched out and the only noises were the creak of the bed frame, their mingled panting breaths and the soft slap of balls against skin.
"You feel so good," Toby gasped out.
Chris shuddered as he pushed harder at Toby. His fingernails dug into Toby's skin, and he whispered into Toby's ear. "Christ, Toby, love this, love your cock, love..."
Bracing his feet on the metal struts at the end of the bunk, Toby shoved up into Chris, one hand cupping the back of Chris's head, the other reaching for his dick.
Toby's fingers were warm and still slippery with Vaseline. When his fingers closed around Chris, he heard a bitten-off groan and then a hissed "Yesss... make me come, Toby, wanna come all over you."
Doubling the thrusts of his hips, Toby jerked Chris off. His wrist skidded against his sweaty abdomen and he tightened his grip, eliciting another hiss. Chris's arms shook and his whole body trembled. He turned his head to the side and sank his teeth into Toby's shoulder as he came, crying out inarticulately. He was completely relaxed, his weight pinning Toby in place.
Pulling his hand from between their bodies, Toby wiped his palm on the bed sheet and waited. Several seconds later, Chris clenched around him. Turning his head back to nuzzle at Toby's neck, he whispered throatily, "Gonna come for me now?"
Toby nodded. "Flip."
They rolled over again. The soles of Chris's feet pushed at the top bunk's mattress and Toby lunged forward. Chris's heat welcomed him, and then held him when he tried to draw back. His fingers scrabbled at the bed; Chris caught his hands and kissed him, shoving his tongue into Toby's mouth.
Toby felt feverish. He knew he had to end this soon; he was almost there, almost-
Chris broke the kiss. Their hands were still clasped together, Chris giving him something to shove against for leverage. "You're so fucking hot right now, the look on your face... intense. Christ, you're sexy. Love it when you fuck me, feels so good when you make me yours."
Toby threw his head back, his mouth open, eyes shut tightly. Chris's voice was everywhere, in the air, woven around him.
"You gonna come for me, baby? Want you to, wanna watch you gasp and shake all over, feel you, know that whoever the fuck's out there watching, I'm the only one who gets to see that, gets to know what it's like having you inside, how you touch me, how you make me feel. I'm the only one who knows. Come, Toby. Come for me." Chris's heated, murmured words seemed to melt into Toby's skin.
His thoughts raced, his heart pounded out a staccato beat in his chest, Toby shook all over, gasped out a strangled, "Chrrriss..." and came.
They separated briefly, a quick clean-up and Toby crawled up onto his bunk to stash the lube and grab his pillow. Their timing was perfect, both in their bunks as a hack wandered by, a circle of light shined perfunctorily into their pod before moving on. Toby clambered down off the top bunk and slid in next to Chris, wrapping him up in his arms. They lay silently for a few minutes.
Tightening his arms around Chris, Toby said, "I meant all the other stuff, too, Chris. I'm thankful for you."
Chris cleared his throat. He moved his feet around until they were touching Toby's. "Jesus Christ, Beecher. Your feet are fucking freezing."
Toby smiled into the back of Chris's neck. "Love you, too."
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