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In My Dreams
In My Dreams
disclaimers: the usual -- they don't belong to me, no profit, just having fun etc.
notes: this fic was inspired by my dream of LT. Dan suggested incorporating what happened in the dream into a fic. So, thanks, Dan! This is my first attempt at a first-person BK story. The poem at the end is by e.e. cummings.
warnings: high sap factor
archive: sure, whoever wants it
I lie back in my bunk, waiting for the lights to go out. I start to breath slowly and deeply cause I want to get to sleep quickly tonight. I look up at the dark gray ceiling and close my eyes, thinking about this place where I am. This place with a name that sounds like a train station stop or an amusement park but it's not. Cedar Junction. It's a prison, just like Oz. About the only thing that's different is Toby's not here.
Toby. He kept me sane. He kept me from self-destructing at Oz. And the only thing I have left of him are some memories and my dreams.
Toby comes to me in my dreams almost every night and I spend my days looking forward to his visits. Sometimes he comes just to talk. Toby always has been quite a talker. He never did know when to shut up, but I'd give my right arm to hear his voice now. I'd get down on my knees and pray to whatever God is out there if I thought it would do any good. And then I'd listen to Toby talk about anything and I'd be happy to do it.
Other times, Toby comes like a whisper. I feel him but I can't see him or hear him. I just know he's there. He wants me to know he hasn't forgotten me, even though I told him to. He just sort of floats around in my head and won't go away. I don't mind, even though he keeps waking me up. I feel him there and I drag myself out of sleep, only to find he's not in my cell with me. Then I do it again. Over and over. All night long.
My favorite dreams are when Toby comes to seduce me. He's hungry and wanton and exposed; just like those short but beautiful nights we had together in Oz. He opens himself to me and says all the things I want to hear. He thanks me for the sacrifice I made. The one that saved his life and put me here. He tells me how much he loves me and he shows me over and over. He makes me believe that I am the only lover, partner, spouse that he ever wants or needs.
Sometimes we're walking down the street in some sunny city and he's holding my hand. Then he kisses me right there in the middle of the sidewalk. I smile with love and pride. Other times, we are in bed, gliding against each other on beads of sweat; our mouths making love; our souls connecting and bonding.
The lights finally go out and my breathing slows even more. I am falling quickly into sleep and hopefully into Toby.
We are in a car together. Toby is driving and I am in the passenger seat. I look around, out of the windows, amazed to see sunshine and grass. We are free -- together. Finally. At last. I feel overwhelming joy, which surprises me, because it's so unfamiliar to me. It feels so good it hurts a little.
Toby is smiling as he drives and somehow I know that we are together; really together. A couple. Committed. I also know that we haven't seen each other in a long time and I miss him terribly. I look at his beautiful face, his sexy smile and I want to touch him. I need to touch him. I ache to touch him.
We stop at a red light and he turns to look at me. He is smiling -- beaming, really. ``God, Chris, I can't believe you're really here,'' he says. I feel my stomach flutter because I am hearing Toby's voice again and it makes me want to cry.
I lean over toward him, resting my hand on his seat, in between his legs. I press my lips to his and he leans back slightly, accepting and inviting me. The kiss is soft and gentle at first and I realize it's been a long time since we last kissed. Then Toby opens his mouth slightly and I slide my tongue through his lips. He moans; trembling with lust and need. That's all I need to send me over the edge.
I capture his mouth in a bruising kiss, plundering with my tongue. Toby moans again and responds feverishly to my efforts. He moves his mouth over mine frantically as if he can't get enough of me all at once. Toby's hand grasps my head and locks me to him. My hand slips down in the seat, brushing against his balls. He gasps into my mouth and I feel like I am coming undone.
The car behind us beeps and Toby realizes we have the green light so he steps on the gas, just as he's breaking our kiss.
``Jesus,'' he breathes and I can see his whole body is shaking.
I lean close to his ear and whisper, ``Pull over somewhere.''
He shudders and I can clearly see the outline of his erection against his soft, gray shorts. ``Shouldn't we wait until we get home?'' And it's like my brain can't process this concept. Home. With Toby. I feel tears welling in my eyes so I close them and nod.
When I open them again, Toby's hands are tightly gripping the wheel. His face is all screwed up in concentration, as if he were trying to will us home that very second. I lean over, slipping my head under his chin, kissing and tasting his strong, muscular neck.
``Oh God. Chris. I...Chris...'' he says incoherently and I'm aware that his body has gone all boneless in surrender.
``Just keep the car on the road, Beecher,'' I tease him. I run my tongue over his Adam's apple and start unbuttoning his short-sleeve, casual white shirt. I slip my hand in between the buttons and caress his chest, feel the muscles of his firm abdomen twitch and dance. Touching Toby's skin has always been a religious experience for me.
I move my mouth, find the hollow below his throat and give it a slow tongue bath. Toby squirms in his seat, panting. My hands are still re-learning the curves and textures of his exquisite skin. I brush over his nipple, which is hard with desire. Toby's whole body jumps at the contact. I know he's thinking the same thing I am -- It's been way too long since we've touched each other like this.
Another red light and Toby pulls my mouth to his and suddenly there is nothing else in the whole world except Toby and the feel of his tongue in my mouth. Everything about this kiss feels urgent yet strangely unhurried. I press myself closer to him, wanting to swallow him whole. I just can't get close enough. I can't kiss him deeply enough. My love and lust for this man know no boundaries.
I am Toby and Toby is me.
The light turns green and Toby presses on the gas again and slowly extracts his lips from mine. He quickly looks at me, smiling. His eyes are glowing, promising me everything. I'm still touching him because I can't stop. I lean down again to lick his neck, his chest, his nipples. He tastes like some kind of gourmet meal with all the right spices and textures. I remember Toby once showed me a poem by some guy named Cummings, I think. He wrote something about groaning pleasantly on his lover's taste. That's how I feel right now. Toby is giving me a gift; letting me taste him. Actually, Toby is the gift.
I bend lower and kiss his fluttering abs and brush my hand against his balls again. On purpose this time. He jumps again, lifting his behind off the seat for a second. I take the opportunity and start to slip his shorts away from his throbbing erection.
``Chris, what are you...'' he starts to ask but he already knows the answer. So he lifts his ass again and I move the shorts down to mid-thigh. I look at him then, all exposed for me, and I see just how beautiful he is. His cock is engorged and glistening with pre-cum. I lean over and breath deeply, taking his scent deep into my lungs. I love the smell of Toby. It leaves me weak.
Then I place my mouth over his cock and suck the head gently between my lips. Toby lets out a long hiss of pleasure. I move my tongue over his shaft, tasting him and teasing him. My hand is gently stroking his sensitive balls. I run my finger along the perineum and his body bucks. Hearing and feeling Toby's pleasure fulfills me in a way I've never known in all my years of fucking and sucking cock. I want to please him. The thought of how hot he is right now brings me to the edge of orgasm. I feel the car stop at another red light.
Toby's body is humming now, flushed red and I know he's ready. I take him all the way in then, sucking hard. He lets out a loud cry and then I feel his cock throbbing inside my mouth, filling it with his juices. I swallow all of it and lift my head. Toby is leaning back in the seat, breathing hard, his chest heaving. He looks at me, his eyes full of love, lust, satisfaction, fulfillment. It's just exactly what I need to see.
``I love you, Toby,'' I tell him.
He reaches over to me, places his hand on my scruffy cheek. ``I love you, too, Chris,'' he says and I lean in to kiss him again.
And then, just then, I start to feel the dream slipping away and I pray desperately for it to come back. I know there'll be a night when Toby stops coming or I'll start to forget what his face looks like. But I can't think about that now. Right now, he's here and he's mine. I wake up smiling and I can face another day in this place.
i have loved, let us see if that's all.
Bit into you as teeth, in the stone
of musical fruit. My lips pleasantly groan
on your taste. Jumped the quick wall
of your smile into stupid gardens
if this were not enough (not really enough
pulled one before one the vague tough
flowers, whom hardens
richly, darkness. On the whole
possibly have i loved. . . . ? You)
sheath before sheath
stipped to the Odour. (and here's what WhoEver will know
Had you as bite teeth;
i stood with you as a foal
stands but as the trees, lay, which grow
-- e.e. cummings
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