Title: Carol

Fandom: OZ

Series: Advocacy

Pairing: Tobias Beecher/Chris Keller

Author: Star

Rating: PG?/R? for language and m/m implications

Disclaimers: Tom Fontana & friends own Oz and all it's characters.

Archive: EmCity, TS and WWOMB. Others?... just email me!

Notes: Betaed by av, but any mistakes are solely my fault.

Feedback: Please! Any and all - on or offlist: aostara@yahoo.com

Spoilers: I'm pretty much taking everything through the end of Season 4 as gospel EXCEPT Keller's confession to Father M. and how Sister Pete dealt with things.

Notes: These segments takes place throughout the latter half of Toby's first year out.

Summary: Toby befriends the sister of an Oz inmate and takes an important step in his relationship with Chris.



CAROL
by Star

June 2003

Scene: The hallway between the front desk and the visiting area in Oz. Toby walks in, intently reading a sheaf of legal papers. Meanwhile, a woman is walking out, looking back over her shoulder wistfully. They bump into each other....

"Oh, God! I'm sorry..."

"No, it was my fault..."

They help each other pick up various items.. her coat, his papers.

"I've seen you here before, haven't I?"

"Yes. I'm here just about every week."

"Are you visiting your husband?"

"No, my brother. How about you? Are you visiting your brother too?"

Toby blushes. "Uhm... no. Closer to husband, I suppose."

"Oh!" The woman fumbles with her coat, blushing in turn.

"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to...."

"No, that's fine. I mean, you always seem to be leaving as I arrive... you had no way of knowing."

"He... um, he's a lucky man to have someone so devoted. Have you been together long?"

Toby laughed ruefully. "I suppose that depends on who's counting. Out here, you'd say a little over three years, on and off, but in Oz, time seems to run in dog years."

"So he hasn't been in long?"

"Going on five years, actually."

"Oh... so... you met *after* he started serving his sentence?"

"We met while we were *both* doing time."

"You?! But you... " She stops, clapping a hand over her mouth.

"Don't look like a criminal?" Toby smiles.

"Well, yes. I'm sorry. You must think I'm an idiot. I should know better, what with my own brother in here. I suppose after a blunder like that an introduction is mandatory. Carol Goldberg."

"I doubt Miss Manners has actually covered this situation, but...Tobias Beecher. Is your brother new? I don't recognize the name. Unless that's your married name...."

"No, I'm single, much to my mother's chagrin. Isaac started a ten-year sentence right after the new year, but we're hoping he'll make his parole after three years. He's never been in trouble with the law before."

"That explains why I never heard of him... I was paroled in early January. What cellblock is he in?"

"A. Why?"

"That's good. The Aryan Brotherhood doesn't bother with A much. If he can steer clear of them, it'll be a lot safer for him."

Carol looks concerned. "Listen, Chris is on his way, so I need to get in there, but I have a friend on the staff... Sister Peter Marie... I could ask her to check up on him, if you like."

"A nun?"

"Yeah, but she's also the prison psychologist. Chris works in her office... it wouldn't hurt for him to meet Isaac either.

He's a good man to have watching your back."

"I... I'm not sure."

"I understand. Look... take my card. Gimme a call if you change your mind. Or if you wanna talk. I know how hard it is to have someone you love in here."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Several days later, the phone rings at the Beecher residence:

"Hello?"

"Yes... I... uhm... I'm trying to reach Tobias Beecher."

"Speaking."

"Oh. This is Carol. Goldberg. We met at Oswald... uhm, Oz."

"Yes, Miss Goldberg, I remember. What can I do for you?"

"Please, call me Carol. First I want to apologize again for my behaviour last week..."

"That's really not necessary..."

"And I wanted to know if the offer's still open. For your friends to help my brother?"

"What's happened?"

"The prison just called. Isaac is in the hospital getting a broken arm set. I think it was those Aryans you mentioned, but he's saying he didn't see who it was. How can you not see who's breaking your arm?!"

Toby lips shift into a rueful grin as he remembers a long-ago conversation with Tim McManus.

"The human mind has the wonderful ability to erase the unpleasant parts of life."

"What?"

"Nothing. Sorry. Look - trust me - it's better if he stays quiet about this right now. The best thing is to get him someplace a little safer. You said he's a first-time offender, right?"

"Yes."

"That'll help. What did he do?"

"Why?"

"Because I need to know before I make any calls. Certain crimes... well, you're not safe anywhere except solitary."

"Like what?"

"Child molestation, mostly. Certain rapes..."

"Oh God, no! Nothing like that!"

"Then what?"

"Vehicular manslaughter. He was high on speed and caused a fatal accident with his motorcycle."

Toby laughs helplessly as Carol waits in shocked silence.

"I'm sorry, Carol. I don't mean to laugh. It just that... well, my old teacher would probably say that Allah arranged for us to meet last week."

"Why? Wait... *you're* Muslim?"

"Sort of. It's a long story. But believe me when I say that I understand your brother's situation. Is he willing to get help for his addiction?"

"I think so. God, I hope so. I mean, shouldn't killing someone qualify as bottoming out?"

Thinking back on his own first year in Oz, Toby shrugs. "Depends on the person. But if he's willing to go to group, I think I can help. Or rather, Sister Pete can."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to ask her to meet with him, and then - if she thinks he's qualified - she'll ask the warden to transfer him to Em City."

"Em City?"

"Emerald City. Otherwise known as cell block 5. It's a special unit in Oz. In exchange for a marginally better environment, you agree to follow some extra rules... exercise regularly, attend classes, go to drug and alcohol counseling, maybe even pursue an education."

"Is that where you lived?"

"Mostly. After the riot, Em City was closed for several months, so we were all stuck in GenPop."

"Riot!"

"Long story." Toby smiles mischieviously.

"You seem to have a lot of those."

The smile fades. "Too many."

"I'm sorry."

"Hey - not your fault. I should give Sister Pete a call, though. Maybe she can catch him in the infirmary."

"Thank you, Mr. Beecher."

"Toby."

"Toby, then. Well... I guess I'll see you later this week. Maybe I could buy you a cup of coffee? I think I'd like to take you up on your other offer as well, if that's okay. I think I need someone to talk to."

August 2003

"So that Nazi putz actually got to see Cyril's release?" Carol asked, looking incredulously from Toby to Sister Pete. They'd told her quite a few stories about Oz over the past two months -- coffee, pie and conversation (or 'knoshing and kveching' as it would be called in her family) at the end of visiting day had become somewhat of a tradition between the three of them -- and precious few of those had an ending that would pass for happy. Toby's parole, of course, and... depending on your point of view... perhaps Miguel Alvarez's escape, but she'd grown used to every story with the name Schillinger attached being more horrific than the last.

"Well, he wasn't exactly 'released'..." Toby temporized.

Carol waved his comment aside, having grown used to Toby's habit of downplaying his good deeds while taking full credit for everything bad that had happened to or around him. "Pete?"

Laying a gentle hand on Toby's arm, Sister Pete compromised. "Cyril wasn't released outright... the courts wouldn't go that far because Cyril *does* understand that what he did was wrong... but he is much better off in his new facility." Smiling at the memory, she continued, "And yes, it's absolutely true. It was an unexpected miracle that Vern was being transferred to the federal penitentary at the same time Cyril was leaving Oz."

Toby glanced sideways at Sister Pete. "'Unexpected miracle.' Yeah, like me being allowed to help escort Cyril so that he wouldn't totally freak out when he realized Ryan wasn't coming with him. Those always seem to happen when you, Father Ray, and Glynn put your heads together." Looking back at Carol, he couldn't stop an almost maniacal grin from appearing. "I'll never forget the look on his face. I wish I'd had a camera... Chris and Ryan would've loved it!"

Carol shook her head in wonder. With all the stories she'd heard, she still didn't quite understand how Toby had come out of his years in Oz as anything other than completely defeated and bitter, but judging by the look in his eye whenever Chris' name came up, she was damn sure the intense and thoroughly imposing man she'd met briefly in the visitor's room was a large part of the reason.

To be honest, he'd scared her a little, but in some way that was comforting; it would take a scary man to keep Isaac safe, even in Emerald City.

Glancing up as the bell on the door sounded, she recognized the teary-eyed yet pretty young blond entering the coffee shop.

"Oh look... there's Agamemnon's friend from the Miss Sally show.

Should we ask her to join us? She looks like she could use a friendly shoulder or three."

"Certainly. I'll go ask her." Sister Pete replied, then stood and walked over to the young woman, speaking to her in low tones and gesturing to their table. As the younger woman nodded gratefully and they walked over, Toby looked thoughtful.

"Carol... I just got a crazy idea...."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next visiting day:

"Toby, what the fuck do I know about psychology and support groups and shit like that?"

Toby stared at Chris dumbfounded for a moment, then burst out laughing. Luckily they were virtually alone in the visiting room -- apparently most people had found something better to do with a muggy summer afternoon -- but that didn't stop Chris' eyebrows from diving down into a distinctly unamused line over his rapidly darkening eyes. Toby's hand, which had been resting casually on Chris' thigh under the table, squeezed reflexively.

Chris looking pissed wasn't much different from Chris looking horny and Toby was suddenly glad they'd taken to sitting on either side of the corner of a table rather than across from one another. It had taken a lot of patience on Toby's part, but Chris was slowly acclimating to being together in public, or at least as much public as he was likely to see for at least several more months.

Letting his hand creep up slowly, Toby replied, "Baby... most shrinks would give their right nut to know half of what you do about how to read people and get them to respond."

Mollified both by the compliment and Toby's actions, Chris relaxed, a sly smile spreading across his face. "Yeah?"

Noting that the last of the other visitors were filing out, Toby leaned closer, giving Chris a sultry, sulky look before nuzzling at the soft skin under his ear. "Yeah," he whispered, "So... you'll help?"

"Mmmhmmm..." Chris responded, no longer caring exactly what he was agreeing to.

Chuckling, Toby nipped Chris sharply, then sat back before he could react with more than a twitch. "Great. All you have to do is talk to the other guys who have regular visitors. Sister Pete is helping Carol and I with everything else. We figured that since we felt so much better having someone to talk to who understood, maybe other inmates' families would feel the same way."

"'Families'?" Chris asked, his amusement at hearing the term applied to he and Toby's relationship temporarily overriding his annoyance at Toby's mecurial mood swing.

"Yeah. I'm sure you remember a little matter of some paperwork you signed right after Schillinger's last stunt?" Toby tried valiantly not to laugh as Chris squirmed uncomfortably.

Frustrated by not being able to visit Chris in the infirmary, Toby had shown up on the next visiting day with a large manila envelope, which he'd tossed down in front of Chris even before saying hello. And if the power of attorney and other paperwork hadn't been bad enough... "What, are we fucking married now?" Chris had commented almost angrily while signing them, to which Toby had replied "Well, you did say you married 'em before you fucked 'em, mister old-fashioned, so it's actually pretty fucking overdue, don't ya think?"... the t-shirt had been the clicher. Chris had stared at it uncomprehendingly for a moment, then got as close as Toby had even seen him to outright embarrassment as he realized that the phone conversation he'd thought he'd dreamed had actually happened... and in front of Sister Pete.

Taking pity on Chris, Toby shifted his hand again, giving him a much better reason to squirm. // It really is amazing what you can get away with as long as you're discrete // he mused, deftly working on Chris' zipper while contemplating all the 'discrete' places they were going to have to visit once Chris got released.


January 1, 2004

Toby woke to a pounding headache and a nauseous feeling that had once been familiar, but that he hadn't felt in years... not since right after Chris had been released from his first trip to the hole, just before their little 'appointment' with Vern and Metzger in the gym.

// Shit! // he thought // Five years of sobriety shot to hell. And for what? //

He thought back into the haze the previous day had become, dimly remembering the phone call from his father telling him that their appeal of Chris' case had been rejected. Between that, a fifth of bourbon, and the first in what was suddenly shaping up to be a long line of New Year's Eves without Chris, he'd been in desperate need of a sympathetic ear. He remembered making a phone call, hailing a cab, then taking it to....

Forcing one eye open, he looked in dismay at the woman sleeping next to him.

// Carol's. Happy fucking New Year. //

He rolled out of bed, barely making it to the bathroom before getting sick, wondering what the hell he was going to say to Chris.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Several hours later, after a handful of asprin, a long, painful conversation with Carol... who apparently was pretty disgusted with her own alcohol-induced behavior and was seriously considering going to AA herself at this point... and a cab ride home, a freshly showered Toby sat staring at the telephone. He wasn't sure if Sister Pete would be in on New Year's Day, but he honestly didn't know who else to call. His sponsor had been understanding and said all the right things about starting over and taking it one day at a time, but the man had no idea what Chris was capable of when he felt betrayed. Shuddering as he remembered Shemin and Mondo Brown, he reached for the phone and dialed.

"Sister Peter Marie's office."

// Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Chris. I'm *so* not ready for this. //

He had the receiver halfway back to the cradle when he heard it. "Toby?"

Somehow, with that weird sixth sense he seemed to possess when it came to trouble, Chris knew it was him. Grimacing, he moved the phone back to his ear. "Hey."

"Hey yourself. What's wrong, baby?"

// Everything. // "What makes you thinks something's wrong?"

"How about because you only call Sister Pete when it's really good news or really bad news and this don't feel like good news."

"Yeah. I... uhm..." // Where to start? Let's got for the simplest one first. // "I got drunk last night."

"Ah shit, Toby. What happened?"

"My father called. Your appeal was rejected." Chris was silent and Toby could picture him trying to master his disappointment and anger. "But I'm not giving up." // Not even if you never want to see me again. // "This just means it'll take a little longer than I'd hoped."

"Mmm-hmm." Chris sounded painfully noncommittal. "And..."

"And, what?"

"Tobe, I know you. Don't try to bullshit me."

Toby sighed and steeled himself as well as he could. "AndIsleptwithCarol."

"What?" Even without being completely sure of the admission, Chris' voice had dipped into dark and dangerous territory.

Cringing, Toby repeated himself. "I slept with Carol. Chris... I was drunk... we were both drunk... I'm so...." In the middle of his apology, the line went dead.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To Chris' credit, he hadn't destroyed too much of Peter Marie's office before the hacks arrived to drag him off to face McManus. Putting the phone through the computer screen was pretty much the worst of it, and he'd been careful to leave her personal effects intact, but someone was going to have a hell of a time reassembling those files... once they replaced the cabinet, of course.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After sending a silently insolent Keller to the hole, McManus wearily rubbed his eyes. He'd gotten spoiled, he realized, after the third year in a row of fairly good behavior from Keller. Not that he'd been Em City's only problem child, but the past year -- with Beecher and Cyril gone, the elder O'Reilly and Keller rooming together peaceably, and everyone's favorite Nazi fuck transferred to the federal pen -- things had been almost quiet, at least in comparison to the chaos Querns had left in his wake. Reaching for an antacid with one hand and the phone with the other, he sighed deeply. Sister Pete had no idea what triggered the outburst and Keller wasn't talking, so that left only one person who might be able to explain.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hello?"

"Beecher, it's Tim McManus."

"I figured I'd be hearing from you. What's he done? He didn't hurt anybody, did he?"

"Thankfully, no. He trashed Sister Pete's office pretty badly, but other than that.... What I need to know is why."

"He didn't tell you?" v "He hasn't said a word. Literally. Look... I know how hard you've been working on his case and believe me, I've noticed the change in his behavior. I hate to stick him in Ad Seg any longer than necessary, but if he won't talk...."

"His appeal was rejected." // And that's all *you* need to know. //

"Oh shit. Beecher, I'm sorry."

"Yeah, well... I'll just have to keep working on it, I guess."

"Yeah. Okay. Well, in that case, I think you only have to worry about missing one visiting day. Given the circumstances, I'm sure Warden Glynn will agree to reduce his Ad Seg time. Hey, maybe you could bring the kids along again next time... that might cheer him up."

Toby was impressed. Under any other circumstances, McManus' suggestion would've been remarkably insightful -- especially considering the man who'd been running Em City when Toby had first arrived -- but McManus, like all of them, had changed. Unfortunately, in this case it only served to remind him that not only did he have to explain to Holly and Harry that Chris wouldn't be getting out anytime soon, but that they might not be visiting him again for a while. If ever.

"Yeah. We'll see."


February 2004

Turned away for the fourth consecutive week, Toby was getting desperate. Visiting with his former cellblock-mates was all well and good, but it didn't seem to be getting him any closer to the man he really needed to see. He looked again toward the door that Augustus Hill had just wheeled back through... the door that lead *into* Oz... and sighed deeply. It was now or never, he realized, then walked over to the guard and requested an escort to Sister Pete's office.

With his heart pounding and stomach churning, Toby concentrated on taking slow, deep breaths as he followed his escort down the hallway he hadn't walked in over a year and had fervently prayed to never see again. He jumped back slightly as Sister Pete opened her door abruptly, worry etched on her face.

"Tobias... come inside." Taking his arm and nodding a dismissal to the guard, she led him inside and closed the door. "Now sit, before you fall down."

Toby looked around slowly, taking in the room that on many occasions had been his only respite from hell... at least until Chris had come along and made everything both infinately better and infinately worse. He sank down instinctively into the chair by the computer, shivering helplessly as the echo of Chris' warmth enveloped him. He looked up at Sister Pete with wide eyes as she brought him a cup of coffee.

"He left about ten minutes ago, if that's what you're wondering."

Toby nodded, then grimaced at his first sip of the bitter brew. "Ugh. Did he make this?"

She peered down into her own cup, considering. "Is it that bad?" She shrugged. "I honestly don't notice anymore. Yes, he did, by the way. Sorry if that throws a wrench into your plans for domestic bliss."

"Sister Pete..." he trailed off, looking thoroughly miserable.

"I thought that might make you get to the point. I can't see you running that particular gauntlet just to pass time with an old nun and drink lousy coffee."

Toby couldn't stop his lips from quirking for a moment; Sister Pete's bluntness had only increased over time. Clasping the cup tightly, he confessed, "He won't see me and I have no idea how to get him to forgive me this time. I need to know what's going on and no one -- not Augustus, not Agamemnon, not even Ryan -- will tell me anything. And then today Isaac refused to see Carol. I can't help but think it's related somehow."

"It is. Tobias... Chris has been asking Tim McManus to move him in with Isaac..."

"What?!"

Raising a hand, she quieted him. "Now wait. Tim's no fool. He doesn't know exactly what's gone on since you asked me to keep that between us, but -- other than New Year's day -- Chris has been a model prisoner since he and Ryan started sharing a pod and Tim's in no hurry to make any changes." Toby settled back in relief. "However... yesterday Isaac went to him with the same request. Chris hasn't said anything to me about it, of course, but..."

"He's seducing him."

"I think so, yes."

Toby sniffed scornfully. "Think? Sister... it's Chris. That's what he does." // If you're lucky enough to live, that is. //

"If you'd let me tell Tim what happened between you and Carol, I'm sure..." Toby groaned, put the cup down and rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his palms. Suddenly he froze and looked up, a spark of hope gleaming in his eyes.

"Tobias... what is it?"

"I think I have an idea. If you're willing to help and it means he'll cut us some slack, you can tell McManus anything you want."

"I can try. What are you planning to do?"

"Give Chris something I haven't been able to in a long time... unconditional surrender."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three days later, Chris followed Sean Murphy down the hall, grinning smugly. Isaac had been all over him in the laundry room that morning and, whether McManus let them share a pod or not, he knew he could start fucking the other man any time he wanted. Savagely clamping down on the little voice that complained that's all it would be -- fucking -- he ambled into the counseling room for his weekly session with his boss.

"Morning, Sister..." He stopped part way through his greeting as his eyes found and locked onto the man standing behind Sister Pete. Time seemed to slow as Toby raised his head, boldly meeting his eyes.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" he growled as Murphy, already tense, moved closer and Sister Pete raised her hand. Only when it touched his chest did he realize he'd unconsciously moved forward. He flashed on the last time he'd been this angry... this hurt, the damned little voice prompted him... and Querns' comment about touching "in love or war." Right now, given a choice, Chris wasn't sure which he would choose. Part of him wanted to beat Toby into a bloody pulp, while another -- the part that hadn't missed the dark circles under his eyes or the way his rumpled t-shirt and sweats hung on him -- wanted to pull him close and never let go.

"Chris..." He flicked his eyes down to Sister Pete, then took a small step back. "Thank you. Tobias?"

"Yes, Sister?"

"Everything's arranged. Are you sure...?"

Toby waited until Chris looked back up at him before answering. "Yes. Either way, we need this."

Chris stood dumbstruck as both Sister Pete and the more hesitant CO headed for the door, leaving nothing but an arm's distance of space between he and Toby.

"Beecher," Murphy said, looking back as Sister Pete opened the door. Expecting an argument, Toby glanced over, only to be met by the indulgent grin usually reserved for favored Irishmen like O'Reilly. "Good luck."

As the door clicked shut, Toby stepped back, revealing a wrestling mat where the couch usually sat.

"What's this?" Chris asked, too curious to maintain the stoic silence he'd originally opted for.

Toby shrugged and looked down, his nerve breaking now that they were alone. "Wanna wrestle?" he asked softly, stepping back again, onto the mat.

Chris' pulse sped up as memories of other wrestling matches with Toby sped through his mind, and his hands clenched into fists as the remembered feel of bones breaking flooded through them. Even after all the sessions with Sister Pete, both individually and together... after all the hours of talking, fighting and fucking, slowly working their way from separation toward intimacy... this was the one thing they hadn't been able to overcome. Sure, they'd spent time in the gym together... working out, playing deliberately foul-ridden one-on-one basketball, even sparring occasionally with the O'Reilly brothers... but not wrestling. Realizing the gift he was being offered, he stepped forward.

"Toby..." At the sound of Chris' voice, Toby trembled with a combination of fear and desire and, without saying a word, lowered himself into the classic bottom-man position.

// If we were wolves, he'd be on his back offering me his throat // Chris thought as, equally silent, he flowed effortlessly into his own position... above, behind and enveloping Toby. Dazed by Toby's willing submission to whatever he needed to dish out, Chris didn't move for a moment... relishing the feel of the familiar body under his, the smell of nervous sweat, the tickle of baby-fine hair against his cheek... then deliberately launched into a move that Toby had long ago learned to counter. For a few precious seconds they were pressed together from shoulder to knee, then Toby was twisting loose, grappling for a hold while frantically searching Chris' face for clues. Grabbing Toby by the wrist, Chris pulled him forward, off balance. Using his left leg to sweep Toby's legs out from under him, he simultaneously pushed forward on his right leg, using his shoulder against Toby's chest to topple them both to the ground. As soon as Toby's back hit the mat, he bucked up wildly, panic evident in his rough breathing and frantically pounding heart, but Chris grimly stayed with him, not trying for a pin as much as just hanging on.

Slowly Toby's struggles ceased and he lay still, panting, with Chris wrapped around and draped over him. He had no idea what, if anything, he should say. He'd offered himself up for punishment, for forgiveness, for whatever Chris wanted, and still didn't have a clue where he stood.

"Toby," said a deep voice from somewhere around chest level.

"Yeah?"

"You shouldn't have come back."

Closing his eyes against the prickle of tears, Toby clenched his fists in frustration. It hadn't been enough, and now he was out of options. His eyes popped back open in surprise as he felt the rough scratch of stubble against his neck, strong teeth gripping his throat and a low growl vibrating it's way out of Chris' chest. He gasped as the teeth released him and Chris licked a hot, wet path up to his ear, then whispered, "But I'm glad you did."

It was only when Chris leaned back, propping himself up on one arm while keeping Toby pinned with the rest of his body, that he dared to move, and even then it was only to turn his head and drink in the deep blue eyes and smug grin he'd been sure he'd lost. "Chris... I'm sor..."

Silencing Toby with the simple efficiency of kissing him breathless, Chris couldn't help but chuckle at the resulting dazed expression.

Toby gazed up at him uncomprehendingly. "You're in an awfully good mood for someone who looked like he wanted me dead a little while ago."

"You still don't get it, do ya? Toby, if I'd wanted you dead, ever, you'd be dead. What I want... what I've always wanted... is you... all of you. What you did today..." Chris shrugged as well as he could in his current position, "Well, it just proves to me that you're not holding back anymore. Even after finding someone on the outside..."

"I didn't 'find someone on the outside'... it was a mistake, Chris. A bad one. Both Carol and I realized that right away... and it's one that'll never happen again."

"Better not," Chris replied, lowering his head and growling at Toby's throat again before sucking hard on a portion of the soft skin.

Shifting restlessly, Toby groaned in response, then quipped, "Marking your territory?" as Chris lifted his head again.

Running a possessive hand down the length of Toby's side, then back up under the t-shirt, Chris replied, "Fuck yeah. Speaking of... how long we got this room?"

His breath catching as a jolt of heat shot from his nipple to his groin, Toby nevertheless managed a wolfish smile of his own as he pulled Chris down for another kiss. "The whole hour...."

"Fuck yeah....."



(fin)