Toby's Hands     Toby's Hands

 by Lisa H

  

 Chris lay on his side, his head propped up on his bent arm, his free hand
moving over Toby's hand, laying on his stomach as he slept. 

 He loved Toby's hands. His fingers were long and large and very strong.
Chris could attest to that. He had felt the strength flow through them as
they had attacked him anger, the forceful determination of them as they
wrestled, and even in love, they left their mark. Chris had several sets
of small circular bruises all over his body in varying shades of healing.
On his shoulders, his hips, his ass, and he thought, if possible, on his
skull. Chris smiled, thinking of the times he had held Toby's cock in his
mouth, with the other man's hands on his head, urging him on, sometimes
squeezing painfully as Chris toyed with him. 

He softly traced the veins that ran from the back of the hand up the slim
arm. This is what really turned him on. During sex, Toby would sometimes
grab the sheet, desperately hanging on as he was pushed to his climax.
Often Chris would glance down at those hands as they clenched harder and
harder, the muscles straining, the veins rising. The sight of that
strength, mixed with Toby's moans of passion and need, and the knowledge
that he was responsible for it all would often bring Chris to orgasm. 

Chris looked at his own wrist and the fresh bruises there; this is where
his lover left his mark most often, and most recently. Sadness marked his
face as he recalled the day past, which had ended not long ago. So much
shit to go through, to get to this point with Toby finally free of his
monstrous guilt, if only for a little while.  

Toby had definitely been in a mood this morning. He was withdrawn and
quiet; Chris' questions of concern were answered with a curt "nothing". So
Chris had let him be. It wasn't that uncommon for Toby or any of them in
here to go through these moods. How could anybody in this place not? The
fact that this was the exception instead of the rule was pretty amazing.
Toby had pleaded illness with Murphy and spent most of the day in bed,
staring at the ceiling, or flipping the pages of a book. 

Chris spent most of his day outside the pod, continually looking over to
see if Toby had pulled out of it, maybe searching him out, ready to talk
or just be together. But as far as he knew, Toby never looked for Chris,
never glanced in his direction. 

The time between lockdown and lights out was an eternity. Chris offered to
play cards or chess; he asked Toby twice if he wanted to talk, but after
being met with silence or a barely audible "no" he quit trying and
attempted to read. His attempt didn't last long. He ended up wondering
what was going on with Toby. This was turning out to be more than the
usual "my life sucks" depression they all went through. It bothered him
that Toby was shutting him out so totally. 

 /What did you expect/ 

 Things had been going pretty good the past few weeks that they had been
back together. Had he really thought they'd stay that way? 

Several minutes after lights out, Toby was still staring at his reflection
in the mirror as water dried on his face. Chris decided one more time to
try and connect with him. After stripping to his boxers, he stepped up
behind him, placing his hands gently on the slim hips, not wanting Toby to
think of this as a sexual overture. 

 `Although', Chris thought, 'if it goes in that direction, I won't
complain.' 

He was a little disconcerted at how much he had missed being with Toby
today. During their previous periods of forced separation, Chris had had a
continual ache in his body for Toby. The first two times he had been
aching for what he hadn't yet had, and after that for what he knew he was
missing. 

 /and others were getting/ 

Today, the door was open to him, and the effort of making himself stay
away had taken its toll, causing him to be tense as well as worried. 

He missed the atmosphere of Toby. The smell of him, the looks and
whispered comments that passed between them. The slight touches. Whatever
the circumstance, whether a deliberate hand on his arm, or the brush of
hip against hip as they moved around each other in the pod, any contact
with Toby sent a charge through Chris' body. He hadn't realized how much
he had come to depend on the two of them being in each other's orbit. 

He was jonesing for the guy after only one day apart, and that bothered
him. But it was an addiction he would never consider giving up. The sex
since he had moved back in was fantastic, but it was more than that. Even
though they hadn't talked about it, he was sure that Toby finally, really
realized what Chris had known long ago; as hard as it might be sometimes,
the fact was that they belonged together. Bad things happened when they
were apart. Of course, bad things happened when they were together. 

The feel of Toby's hips under his hands was delicious, and he leaned
forward to place a gentle kiss on the bare shoulder in front of him. At
that moment, Toby shrugged violently, displacing Chris' hands and hitting
him square on the bridge of his nose with the back of his head. 

"Fuck!" Chris stepped back, one hand going to his nose, the other
clenching tightly as he fought the urge to grab the back of that dark
blond head and smash it into the mirror. 

He had had a lot of practice fighting such urges. Beecher knew how to push
his buttons, and Chris was surprised that he didn't have an ulcer from all
the times he had swallowed his anger. 

Through the tears in his eyes, he stared holes into the back of Toby,
waiting for him to turn around or at least say something. When he realized
that he wasn't going to, Chris sat down on the edge of his cot, giving a
quiet snort of wry laughter as he thought about how fast he had gone from
wanting to pound the son of a bitch in the ass to wanting to pound him in
the head. 

He sat a few minutes longer, wondering if Toby was going to stand there
all night. The silence was almost painful, but Chris was damned if he was
going to break it. 

As the tears in his eyes dried, Chris looked once more at Toby, who was no
longer looking at himself but had dropped his head. For the first time,
Chris noticed the tension in the muscles on Toby's back and shoulders. His
gaze traveled down one of Toby's arms. The veins which he so admired were
standing out so far it looked as thought there were thin ropes of steel
under the skin. Chris could see why....his hands were gripping the edge of
the sink so tightly the tips of his fingers were white. 

 /what the fuck/ 

Starting to rise, then deciding he was safer where he was, Chris softly
spoke. "Toby? Toby, you don't have to talk, but if you wanna, it's ok. I
ain't mad. You can't hurt this nose, ya know?" He gave a small chuckle,
which died in the space between them. No response. "Fuck it," he mumbled
under his breath. He lay down, turned his back to the pod 

 /to Toby/ 

 and desperately wished for sleep. 

Some time later, Chris was startled from the sleep which had taken so long
in coming. He opened his eyes and jerked as he saw the blue eyes of Toby
only inches away from his own as he knelt beside the bed. 

"Shit! Don't do that! You scared the crap out of me!" Chris rolled onto
his back, rubbing at his eyes with the heels of his hands. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I just heard you making some
noises.....you were moving around and I thought you might be having a bad
dream." 

Chris rested his arm across his eyes and thought for a moment. He had been
having some kind of dream. It was pretty much faded now; he was left with
only a bad feeling. Nightmares were par for the course, though. "Yeah,
well, I'm all right. Go back to sleep." 

 He tensed as he felt Toby's hand rest on his stomach. The warmth of it
spread through his body. "I wasn't asleep," Toby said. "Actually, I was
hoping you would wake up so that we could talk." 

 /un-fucking-real/ 

"You wake me up in the middle of the night so that we can talk? I seem to
recall giving you several opportunities during the day." He pushed the
hand off his stomach and glared at the other man. "Leave me alone,
Beecher. I'm tired and my nose hurts. You really don't want to get into
anything with me right now." 

Toby looked at him with that look, his bottom lip pushing up, giving his
mouth that little pout. His eyebrows were knit over his searching, wounded
eyes. "Chris, please....." 

Chris jumped off the bed and got away from him in a hurry. A sick feeling
of deja-vu passed through him. `If he says, you've got to forgive me,'
Chris thought, ` I'll go over there and knock his teeth down his throat.' 

Fortunately, Toby didn't say anything, at least for a moment. He sat on
the edge of Chris' bed with his head in his hands. 

Finally, he said, "Today was Gary's birthday." 

 /sweet Jesus/ 

Chris leaned his head against the back wall of the pod where he had ended
up. `Why does he do this?' he thought. `Would it have been so goddamned
hard to say that to me this morning? Or tell me yesterday, or last week?
Why do you do this to yourself, Toby...and to me?' 

He stood warring with his emotions, yet again. His desire to comfort was
pretty evenly matched with the desire to shake the man until his teeth
rattled. Toby looked up and over at him. Chris could barely see his
features in the dim light, but he could see the glitter of tears on his
lashes. `Fuck you,' he thought and then moved to kneel at his side, taking
his face between his hands and softly kissing those trembling lips. 

He wondered if Toby knew what a fine line there was between what Chris was
doing now and what he had been thinking of doing just moments before. Did
Toby realize how much restraint and will-power he used in dealing with
him? Toby gently pulled away from the kiss, and by the look of gratitude
on his face, Chris knew that he did. 

 He moved to sit next to Toby on the bed, slowly pushing him down. The
smaller man slipped out from under him and stood up. "Chris, I really want
to talk about this." 

Chris sighed and sat up on the edge of the bed. He was suddenly so tired,
he didn't think he could handle anything else, especially not another of
Toby's "talks". He knew that Chris knew he was sorry, why couldn't that be
enough? 

Chris sighed again, and leaned back on his elbows, looking at the slim
golden man, clad in just his boxers. Fuck, he was beautiful....Chris
wished with all his heart that he had been here when Toby first arrived.
That they could have come together without Vern being the middleman. But
then, would they have even ended up together? All the possible scenarios
had gone through Chris' head hundreds of time without him ever being
confident of their outcome. 

And now he had to deal with the reality of what their relationship
was....he had meant it when he told Mukada that it had begun in brutality
and had ended, briefly, the same way. That would always be a part of it.
But love had never been the smallest part. If it had, Chris would never
have gone through all the shit that he had, enduring the heartache that
was loving Toby. God, the man was work. But Chris knew all this. When he
had been put back in their pod, he had accepted the way things were. He
would love Toby completely, easily. Toby would give what he could, and
Chris would take what he could get; he really didn't have a choice. 

And of course it wasn't just Toby, it was all the other assholes who
seemed to make it their mission in life to come between them. Although
they had been left relatively alone since their reunion. After Said had
come back from the hole for stabbing Adibisi, he wasn't the same old
sanctimonious, self-righteous prick he had been. And Mukada and Sr. Pete
had been keeping their unsolicited advice to themselves. 

Chris realized that Toby was talking to him. He was looking down at him
with a questioning look on his face. "Are you in there?" he was asking. 

Chris stood. "Toby, I know you need to talk. But honest to Christ, I don't
think I can handle it right now. Let me talk for a minute." He walked over
to Toby and put his hands on his shoulders. In response, Toby placed his
hands on Chris' bare chest. /Oh, Christ, please don't do that/ "I'm
serious. I need you to keep your mouth shut for just a few minutes and let
me talk. Then, if you need to pop me in the nose again, or feel like you
have to say something, go ahead." 

Toby stared Chris in the eye, nodding his agreement. `If anything, please
let it be the nose,' thought Chris. He took a quick step back and broke
contact before he couldn't. 

He walked to the door of the pod and leaned on his hands against it. It
would be easier if he wasn't looking at Toby while he did this. 

"You didn't tell me it was Gary's birthday, because you were afraid I
would try and talk you out of wallowing in self-pity and guilt. 

"Chris, that's not....." 

"Fuck!! Can't you do this one thing I'm asking you and keep your mouth
shut?" Keeping his back to the man, he went on. "You wanted to have the
freedom to sit in here and imagine a birthday cake with no one to blow out
the candles, to count in your head all the unopened presents. To picture
the balloons that your parents will leave at his grave. And to say over
and over and to yourself, `It's all my fault'." 

"You are a fucking bastard. A mother-fucking cock-sucker." The voice was
low, but the level of rage in it caused Chris to turn. Toby stood in the
middle of the room; his hands, his jaw, every part of his body was
clenched so tight he looked ready to simply explode. Chris stayed put. He
wasn't stupid enough to put his hand into the space of a wounded animal.
And he wasn't done. 

"You also wanted to punish me. You wanted to keep yourself distanced from
me. Let me wonder what was happening with you, and not give me the chance
to help. Make me go through the whole goddamned day wondering why the man
I love..." The catch in his voice caught him by surprise, and he stopped a
moment to swallow the lump in his throat He went on, his voice low and
harsh. "Why the man I love couldn't turn to me for comfort, couldn't let
me in on what he was going through. You would rather suffer alone than let
me get any satisfaction out of helping you. You want to punish me for
being right about Vern, for not forgiving you right away, and for killing
your fuck-buddies." 

Chris was surprised that Toby was still standing quietly (although his
breath was coming so fast and so hard it looked like he might start
hyperventilating at any moment); surprised that he wasn't arguing, but
even more surprised that he hadn't flown at him intent on murder. 

Chris supposed that he should stop while he was ahead; his intention
hadn't been to start a fight. In fact, he wasn't even really mad, just so
frustrated and tired of it all. But God! it felt good to let it out. They
had never really discussed any of this after Chris had moved back in. They
both had been so relieved to be together, they had a tacit agreement to
not bring any of it up. But it was out in the open now, and there was no
stopping. 

"I know you don't care that those men are dead. In fact, you got a little
thrill out of it, didn't you? Someone actually committed murder for the
love of you, and it gave you a hard-on. That's what you want to punish me
for.....you feel guilty that you Don't feel guilty, and you're trying to
lay it at my feet. Well, pal, I ain't accepting it." 

Toby did come at Chris then. With a cry of rage, he hit Chris square in
the chest and slammed him against the door, causing it to shake loudly.
Chris immediately grabbed his wrists and squeezed so hard, Toby's knees
buckled from the pain. Out of the corner of his eye, Chris could see a
light making it's way toward them. 

"You are going to sit down now and keep your mouth shut," he said. "You'll
have plenty of time to kill me later.....I just want to keep us out of the
hole for now." He released Toby's hands just as the hack showed up. She
shone her light around the room, then onto Chris. 

"What's up?" she asked through the wall. 

 He gave her his best charm-their-panties-off grin. "Sorry officer. We
couldn't sleep, and got into a little debate. I got a little, uh, agitated
and hit the door." He rubbed the side of his hand for good measure. 

 She shined the light onto Toby, who was now sitting on the bottom bunk.
He was making a pretty good effort of controlling his emotion, and nodded
at her. 

 "Well, get to bed, both of you. Now." 

 "Sure thing," Chris said. 

 After the hack had walked away, Toby moved to climb up to his bunk. Chris
walked over and put his hands on his shoulders, preventing him from doing
so. "This is not over." 

"It sure the fuck is," said Toby through clenched teeth. "Get your hands
off me. You know she'll be back to check on us." 

Just then, the alarm buzzer began going off, and they could see all the
guards running to one end of the quad. 

"There," smiled Chris. "Divine intervention, baby. Let's finish this
thing." 

Suddenly, all the tense muscles in Toby's shoulders relaxed and he dropped
from Chris' touch onto the bed, sitting hunched over, his head in his
hands once more. Chris stepped back, appraising the situation. Toby looked
whipped, all the fight gone from him. Chris realized that he felt the same
way. He suddenly wanted nothing more that to push Toby across the bed and
climb in beside him. Instead he settled for sitting down next to him,
leaving plenty of space between. 

After a few moments Toby spoke, his voice strained and breaking. 

"Chris, everything you said is true. I am a fucking mess, and I wanted
someone to share the responsibility for that. The closest person was you.
After all I've been through in here, all I've seen and done, I still
thought I could manipulate things to go my way. Do the right thing for
Vern, he'll respond in kind...tell you I'm sorry and you would forgive me,
just like that. All of that was based on the life I used to lead. A life
where I was somebody, somebody who could control the world around him. I
was a master of manipulation back then." 

He lifted his head and ran his hands through his hair. Chris could watch
him do that all day. Toby went on. "Oh, I guess I still am; look at the
great job I did with Andy." He smiled sadly and shook his head. "But after
that, everything I did was shit, while someone like....." Toby paused and
looked over at Chris. 

"While someone like me, a career criminal, knew the score, tried to warn
you, and look what happened when you wouldn't listen. And when you
realized that you were wrong about me you thought it should be enough to
tell me you were sorry, because you were you, and I was just me." 

The look of pain on Toby's face was almost enough to make Chris regret his
words, but not quite. 

"Yes, and look how fucking wrong I was," he whispered. "But now I know
Chris, I know. All my values and morals and knowledge of the world I used
to live in are worthless. I wanted to hurt you for making me see that." 

Chris' hand shot out and grabbed Toby's arm. "Nothing about you is
worthless, Toby. You fucking got that? Nothing! You have to hang on to all
that is good in you. You're going to walk out of here soon, and you can't
let this place beat you before you do." 

"Yeah, and what about while I'm still in here? All that good in me just
ends up stabbing me in the back." 

Chris moved across the space between them and took Toby's face in his
hands. He stared into those sad, beautiful eyes. "I'll protect you in
here, baby, if you'll only let me. Will you let me do that? Can you?" 

Toby tensed, and something fearful flashed through those eyes. Chris held
on, stroking the soft bottom lip of Toby's mouth with his thumbs. 

"I'm not looking to take anything away from you....I just want to give you
some rest. Toby, don't you know how much you give me? It could be so much
more, for both of us, if you would only let it." 

"I want to Chris, I really do. God, I know how crazy I drive you, and how
I let you get to me when I shouldn't. I wish I wasn't like that all the
time....I just.....I don't know why it's....." 

Chris interrupted by pulling him into a hug, which Toby returned,
desperately hanging on. "It's okay, I understand." 

And Chris did understand. He knew there was a part of the man that he had
to keep to himself. It was part of Toby's self-preservation. He could
probably never give himself completely to anyone, certainly not to the man
who had broken him, mind and body. It would scare him too much to let go
of everything. But Chris could accept that. He had accepted it, and as
much as it sometimes pained him to know that he would never get the type
of love he so wanted, /needed/, he also knew that he was lucky to be the
recipient of all that Toby was capable of giving. He was the one that had
what all the other fucks in here would sell their mothers for. As long as
Toby understood one thing; they were together for the long run now. 

He whispered into Toby's ear, "It's okay as long as you remember this;
only me, baby, from now on. From this moment until you make parole, only
me.....no one else." 

Toby pulled back and stared so intently at Chris that he felt a sudden
twinge of uneasiness. 

 /what now/ 

Toby softly kissed Chris on the lips and then breathed into his mouth,
"Only you, no one else, from now...... until always." Chris closed his
eyes as tears filled them for the second time that evening. 

Toby kissed away the tears as they rolled down the rough cheeks, then
gently pulled Chris down with him.  

As Chris ran his fingers across Toby's wrist, he smiled sadly at the set
of bruises he had put there earlier, and at the fresh marks on his own
wrist, left there less than an hour ago. Matching bruises, one set made in
anger, the other in love. How fucking appropriate for us, he thought. It
was all worth it, though, because this is where he was meant to be. 

"Hey, you're tickling me." 

Chris bent and kissed Toby softly. "Sorry, go back to sleep." 

Toby sat up instead. "What are you doing still awake?" 

"I dunno. Thinkin'. I do need to move though; I think my arm is in this
shape permanently." 

As Chris sat up, Toby grabbed the pillow and moved behind the other man.
He sat the pillow up where the bed frame met the wall and leaned against
it, his legs stretched out at an angle. He then held out his arms to
Chris, who slid back between Toby's legs and gratefully leaned his head on
his shoulder. Toby began massaging the large, muscular arms. 

 /oh, baby, that feels good/ 

Chris' eyes closed, his body limp with relaxation. 

After a few minutes, Toby moved his hands across the wide chest and lay
them flat. "I can feel your heart beating," he said. 

"Hey, that's a good sign, right?" Chris asked sleepily. 

"Go ahead and sleep Chris. I'm going to stay awake for awhile and make
sure it doesn't stop." 

Chris smiled at that and then again as he felt Toby kiss his cheek. "I
love you, Toby." 

"I love you, Chris." 

Chris drifted off to sleep, his heart in Toby's hands.Toiby  Please send
feedback to Lisa H.