"Beecher, cut it out!"

Chris flips the pages of his magazine down to glare at Toby.

"I didn't do anything."

Toby sits on the side of the bed, backside pressing against Chris's thigh, playing cat's cradle with a shoelace. After a week of lockdown, a child's game and pissing Chris off are his two favorite things to do to wile away the endless hours until lights out. His favorite thing to do <i>after</i> lights out is a different matter entirely.

Chris nudges Toby with his thigh, then goes back to the magazine. Both of them have read it cover to cover multiple times. Chris knows every crease and smudge on every single page. The damned thing doesn't even smell like paper any more.

"Ow! Damn it!" Chris snaps.

Toby turns to Chris, his face far more innocent than an actual innocent person's face could be. "I didn't do anything."

"Bullshit! One more time, Toby..."

Toby raises an inquiring brow, "Or what, Chris?"

Chris snaps the magazine back in front of his face. He doesn't miss the hint of a smile as Toby goes back to his cat's cradle. Toby was getting good at coming up with the most fantastic shapes, giving them names like <i>Hoyt's Dick</i> or <i>The Stick Up McManus's Ass</i>.

Focusing on the babe in the mouthwash ad, Chris tries to ignore the subtle movements of Toby's body as he works though another cat's cradle pattern. The constant nudge, nudge, nudge of Toby's ass against his thigh is distracting, but it isn't like the fingerprint blurred model in the magazine is enough to hold his attention.

"OW! That's it, asshole!"

Toby laughs out loud, a wicked little snicker. Chris tosses the magazine aside, not caring that pages crumple on the floor. He leans up and snatches the shoelace from Toby's hand, then pushes the loop around his wrists. Holding the loop tight, he moves around so he can push Toby down on the bed.

"I didn't do anything, asshole," Toby says, grinning up at him.

"Asshole, huh?" he smirks, eying Toby up and down in his clean white shirt and boxers.

The lights are still on, but he can feel the clock ticking down in his head. Toby had timed his game almost perfectly, the bastard.

There is a crossbar at the foot of the bed, just above the edge of the mattress. Chris pushes Toby's hands up over his head and twists the shoelace around the bar, tying it off.

"Lights out!"

They've been waiting for it, but they both still startle at the shout and subsequent clang as each bank of lights flicks off, plunging them into the twilight gray of night in Oz.

Still grinning, Toby leans up to nip at Chris's chin. Toby's rarely this playful, and Chris can't really be mad at him, but he narrows his eyes and growls anyway. Toby just laughs and licks the spot he'd nipped.

"You've been a pain in my ass all day," Chris says.

"You wish," Toby replies, then leans up to give him a kiss. Tied up as he is and unable to move his arms, he can't maintain the kiss for long. He falls back on the bed with a regretful sigh.

Chris leans down to give Toby the kiss he wants, long and deep and lush. Toby is sighing for a different reason by the time Chris leaves Toby's mouth to nuzzle his way down to the hollow of Toby's throat.

Toby always smells good, even after a week with Chris, sweating and fucking in a glass box. Earlier that day, the hacks let them out long enough to shower and do laundry. Now Toby smells like that good soap his mother sends him, shampoo, and clean skin.

Leaving the enticing scent of Toby's throat, Chris brushes his face back and forth across Toby's chest, enjoying the drag of cotton across his freshly shaved cheeks. The shirt is soft with wear and smells of Toby and dryer sheets. He could stay there all night, rubbing himself all over Toby's body, breathing him in, cataloging every musky, salty and sweet part of him.

He has plans, though, plans that don't involve cotton in any way. Pushing his hands under the hem of Toby's t-shirt, Chris smoothes his palms up Toby's chest, dragging the t-shirt up, up, until it's over Toby's head, wrapping around his bound wrists. He does the same thing with the boxers, except his hands smooth down, down Toby's legs. The boxers end up on the floor.

The lights are out, but it's still early. Most of the other prisoners are awake, and the hacks will start their first patrol of the night in an hour. Chris doesn't care who watches, but Toby doesn't like it, still wanting some kind of privacy in a place where secrets are impossible.

Chris can't help but be captivated seeing Toby like this, teeth gleaming a mischievous smile, his eyes bright in the dimness. He undulates his hips, hard cock an invitation to touch. So Chris does, curling his fingers around Toby's cock, giving him a loose grip to push into, greedy for it.

Chris watches, just as greedy, as Toby shamelessly works his hips. Screw the consequences, he's going to take his time, move things beyond hands and mouths and rubbing off. Toby pouts when Chris moves his hand away from Toby's cock. This playfulness, the wantonness, is completely irresistible.

"Don't tease," he gasps, bringing his knee up to nudge Chris in the ribs.

"Asshole," Chris says, pushing Toby's knee down, spreading himself over Toby, pressing his body into the mattress. The hiss of Toby's breath is swallowed in a kiss.

He keeps Toby's mouth occupied, one slow, deep kiss blending into another, like they have all the time in the world. Toby does nothing to rush them, taking every kiss and giving it back until Chris has to draw away to catch his breath. Toby, watching Chris's face intently, rolls his hips up, their cocks rubbing against each others through the thin barrier of Chris's boxers.

Growling, Chris shoves and kicks at his boxers while Toby laughs, so open and happy that Chris wants to bury himself in Toby, crawl inside and never come out again. He takes another second to skim out of his t-shirt and toss it into the shadows before falling onto Toby, body to body with nothing between them.

He goes a little crazy, biting and licking at Toby's shoulders, running his hands over Toby's belly and chest. When Toby spreads his legs, cradling Chris's hips between his thighs, positioning himself perfectly for rubbing off, Chris draws back, panting. Toby doesn't like that at all and tries to use his legs to pull Chris back down.

Chris checks the shoelace binding Toby's wrists to the rail. He could easily get loose, but immobilizing him isn't really the point. Chris wants his hands out of the way for the time being. Toby watches quizzically, his calves restlessly rubbing Chris's thighs.

Arousal is making Toby a bit pushier than before. Chris doesn't mind. Taking his time is one thing, lingering long enough for the hacks to come banging on the glass is another. Smiling, Chris kisses the tip of Toby's nose, making him grumble for avoiding his lips.

Chris's hand moves to the edge of the mattress to locate the small bottle of hand lotion he'd hidden there. To distract Toby, he begins to nuzzle his way down Toby's chest, pausing to lick at taut nipples. Toby arches up, wanting more, but settles back with a disappointed sigh when Chris keeps working his way down.

One of the first things Chris found out about Toby's preferences was that his abdomen is highly sensitive. Chris licks and mouths at Toby's treasure trail, causing shudders to spread through Toby's body. Chris's hand finally finds the bottle of lotion and he pulls it out from under the mattress.

Toby smells fantastic. Chris can't help but bury his nose in the crease of Toby's thigh before smoothing a hand along Toby's leg, guiding his knee toward his chest. Toby lifts his other leg without any direction from Chris. Leaning back, Chris has to look at Toby, hands above his head, knees drawn up and spread wide, cock hard.

Toby is completely still under his gaze, laid out like an offering, his vulnerability a gift. It goes right to Chris's head, and with a groan he bends over Toby, kissing the insides of his thighs, licking the tender skin of his balls, mouthing his ass.

He's careful with the brand. Toby only allows him to touch it in the most casual way. A close examination or a caress will have him going cold and could stop the whole thing in its tracks. Eventually, Chris is going to own that patch of skin the same way he is going to stake his claim to every other piece of Toby.

Chris can hear Toby's harsh breathing. Jesus, he wants to make Toby scream loud enough to bring the hacks running. Dropping the bottle of lotion on the bed, Chris uses both hands to spread Toby's cheeks, letting a couple of fingers rest on the damaged flesh of the brand. Toby doesn't have time to protest, or even notice, because Chris licks a wet path from tailbone to balls. Toby gasps and brings a foot down on Chris's shoulder, toes digging into his skin.

"Chris!" It is more of a gasp than a scream, but satisfying just the same.

Licking the skin under Toby's balls, Chris works his way down. Toby squirms at the first touch of Chris's tongue to his hole. "God, I can't believe you're doing that!"

Hell, yes, he's doing that. There isn't a single inch of Toby's body Chris isn't going to claim. Chris laughs, and it must be doing something really good to Toby because his foot shovs hard at Chris's shoulder, almost as if he's trying to push him away. Trying not to smile, Chris presses his mouth to Toby's opening and hums. Then Toby laughs. "Fuck, that tickles!"

Chris starts alternating humming and licking, making Toby squirm and buck uncontrollably. Things get a little wild, and Chris has to grip Toby's hips and push them down to the mattress. He finally quits teasing and gets down to the business of working Toby open with his tongue.

Even after the teasing, Toby is damn tight. Chris is expecting the resistance, and he knows it's not intentional. The clock in his head is ticking down, and Chris has no choice but to be pushy. Some other night, Chris will take his time, eat Toby out until he comes just from that, but tonight he has to get Toby relaxed and ready for what is coming next.

Pressing his lips against Toby's hole, Chris begins working his tongue around the tight muscle. He can feel Toby trying to relax, let him in. He rewards Toby by breaching him with his tongue, going deep.

"Holy fuck!" Toby gasps.

Chris uses more force to get his tongue deeper inside, pressing his face hard enough against Toby's body that he almost can't breathe. Groping around on the bed, he finally grabs the bottle of hand lotion. He pulls back to draw air, then presses back in, finally feeling Toby loosening up.

Toby is too focused on what Chris is doing to him to hear the cap of the lotion bottle hit the floor with a sharp click. He's muttering, too quietly for Chris to catch more than his name. He gives Toby a few extra licks for that.

They're running out of time. Chris pours some lotion onto his fingers, not giving a damn that some is getting on the sheets. With one last sucking kiss, Chris draws back and pushes the tip of a finger inside. Toby goes tense all over.

"Chris?"

"Yeah?"

He listens to Toby breathe for several long moments. After a while, Toby begins to relax. "Okay," he murmurs. "Chris..."

It feel like something breaks open inside his chest. The tenderness is almost unbearable. If they do nothing else, he's grateful that Toby let him get this far. As Chris eases his finger all the way in, he can feel Toby's body become more receptive, opening for him.

Chris sits up so he can look at Toby. And Toby can see him. Fiercely, he needs Toby to know it's Chris touching him, making him feel good. He captures Toby's gaze, wanting everything he feels to show, because Toby deserves that much from him. As he carefully moves his finger in and out of the tight heat of Toby's body, Toby sighs out, "Chris."

Everything around him drops away. It's just the two of them, and the connection building between them. Nothing is going to disturb them, not now when Chris is so close to where he needs them to be.

Chris adds more lotion, then another finger, carefully stretching Toby until he can't stand to wait any longer. His hands are shaking a little as he pours more lotion into his hand and starts slicking up his cock. He can barely stand to touch himself, he's so close to losing control.

Toby hooks one leg around Chris's hip trying to draw him closer. "Chris, please."

Dropping the bottle to the floor, Chris all but falls on Toby, hands braced on the mattress on either side of Toby's shoulders. Toby's legs wrap around Chris's hips, almost like they belonged there.

Taking Toby's mouth in a deep kiss, Chris begins to ease his cock inside. Chris has to see Toby's face, wants to remember every second, as he pushes into the warm clasp of his body. Chris feels the sweat break out on his forehead as he forces himself to go slow. He can see the struggle in Toby's eyes, feel it in his body, as he tries to overcome old memories and give himself to Chris.

With more care than he has ever attempted with anyone else, Chris moves his hips in tiny increments, in and out, going just a little deeper with every push. He's so entirely focused on Toby, trying to make this good, trying not to hurt him, that it's almost a surprise when his hips meet Toby's ass and he can't go any deeper. They both freeze, staring at each other for the longest time. Then Toby tightens around his cock, and they both gasp.

Chris can't help himself. He pulls out and thrusts back in, hard. Toby's breath catches and the muscles in his arms tense as he gripps the bar above his head. The bed creaks as Chris thrusts again, both of them panting.

Glancing down, Chris sees that Toby is only partially erect. Shifting his weight, he takes Toby's cock in hand and strokes. Toby's reaction is instinctive as he uses his legs to pull Chris closer, taking his cock all the way in. Toby begins to roll his hips up, using his legs to exert control over Chris's thrusts. Chris lets him. Whatever feels good to Toby, whatever he wants is good enough for Chris.

More than good. Every thrust into Toby's ass sends him higher, pleasure surging through him. Wanting Toby to feel just as good as he does, Chris strokes him back to full hardness. The bed groans as they find a rhythm, moving together, the slap of flesh on flesh mingling with their panting breaths. Looking straight into his eyes, Toby sighs, "Chris!"

Suddenly, Toby's body goes impossibly tight around his cock, forcing a too loud cry of pleasure from Chris. Sticky wetness spills over his hand, Toby's come spattering both of them. That's all he can take. Pleasure rolls over him, his hips snapping out a last few thrusts as he comes deep inside Toby.

Sweaty and spent, Chris blinks back to awareness. All he wants to do is collapse on Toby and fall asleep, surrounded by his warmth and scent. He can't do that. Instead, he reaches up to fumble at the knot binding Toby's wrists.

As soon as his hands are free, Toby wraps his arms around Chris, smoothing his hands over Chris's back and ass. Toby makes no move to get out of the bunk and clean up, so they shift around to get comfortable.

The bunk is too narrow for the two of them, but they manage to curl together, Toby's head on his shoulder. Toby's hand keeps wandering, fingers combing through Chris's chest hair, then down to his belly, then lower. With Toby's hand rubbing circles on his thigh, Chris begins to drift. Suddenly, Toby pinches a few hairs and yanks.

"Ow!"

Wide awake, Chris rolls Toby under him and glares down into laughing eyes.

"I didn't do anything," Toby says, grinning.

"Asshole." What can he do except kiss Toby until the hacks come and bang on the glass.