On the Outside: Misconceptions

Author Name: Jacki (kbfan)

Feedback: Always appreciated, on list or privately.

Status: New, part of the On the Outside Series

Archive: Yes, please do. C5, TS, WWOMB...anyone else interested please email me

Rating: R

Pairing: Beecher/Keller, is there anyone else?

Category: AU, slash, first time, angst

Warnings: mild violence

Summary: Takes place when Toby and Chris are in their mid-20's. Toby's still in law school, and has never been an alcoholic.

Disclaimer: I don't own them, sadly. Tom Fontana and HBO do. Although I'd be willing to rent the boys from them for a reasonable sum.

Notes: OK, this is my first OZ fic, I was worried about it because I wanted to make sure I did justice to the characters, hopefully it was accomplished. I must thank my fic fairy, Calysta, for inspiration and a beta. Without her I don't know if I would have ever gotten the nerve to write in the OZ fandom. This first fic is part of a series that will turn out to be who knows how long; I guess if I'm jumping in, I might as well jump in with both feet. Anyway, now that I've gone on and on you probably want to get to the story, so without further ado...

On the Outside: Misconceptions
by Jacki

Tobias Beecher had spent the past two weeks holed up in the library of NYU's Law School, he was in his final year, and he and a group of friends had been preparing non-stop for a moot court presentation. Earlier that afternoon they had given their professor everything he had expected and now, for the next few days at least, they were free.

It was an unseasonably warm night in October, the heavy air surrounding the group of young men as they staggered out of another bar. It was late and the boys were well on their way to oblivion.

"Lesh get one more beer, guysh," Ryan O'Reily slurred.

"S'k," Toby answered, his voice tinged with alcohol.

The four men stumbled further down the street, eyes scanning the storefronts, searching for a final respite. Toby wrapped his arm around Ryan, the two men hanging onto to one another, as they tried to keep from tumbling onto the concrete. They passed an alley, the air reverberating around them as the pounding bass of dance music reached their ears.

"Thash sounth like jus' what we're lookin' for," Ryan mumbled, loudly. The group of men turned into the alley, allowing the pulsing beat to lead them to their destination.

Toby could see the diluted streetlight that spilled across the asphalt at the end of the alley. He tried to focus on that light, to put one foot in front of the other, to keep them moving forward.
Suddenly the bright point ahead of him disappeared, as another group of men stepped into the alleyway. The three men seemed huge, their mass effectively blotting out any illumination from the street behind them.

Toby's alcohol fogged mind registered their dress then; leather, studs, denim and fringe. `Shit, shit, shit,' his mind repeated over and over. Toby tried to get Ryan's attention; he tugged on his
shirt, but Ryan seemed oblivious as he laughed raucously at something one of the other men had just said.

Toby leaned closer to Ryan, he whispered frantically in his ear. "O'Reily, turn around. Look at those guys. Shit, we gotta get out of here." The tone of Toby's voice prompted Ryan to swivel his
head; his eyes widened as he saw the men at the mouth of the alley.

"Looky here boys, what do we have here?" one of the massive bikers growled menacingly.

"Fuck," Toby breathed, letting out the breath he had not realized he had been holding.

"Looks like a bunch of cocksuckers to me, Chucky," one of the other men answered.

The four law students stood rooted in their spot, as if their feet had been sucked into the concrete. No one moved. The three bikers looked at one another, and slowly the leader leveled his threatening gaze on Toby. The glare seemed to penetrate Toby's every fibre, he was not even aware that he was staring back into the larger man's eyes.

Chucky Pancamo took Toby's unwavering expression as a challenge; slowly he began to move further into the narrow alleyway, the other two goons followed. Gravel crunched underfoot as the bikers moved purposefully toward the young men. Toby's arm slipped from Ryan's waist as he tried only to control the thumping beat of his heart.

Toby turned his head to look at his friends, it was then that he heard an unusual noise. He swiveled his head toward the bikers; he had only a moment to register the baseball bat that had suddenly appeared in Chucky's meaty fist.

Toby's mind only had time to register Ryan's voice as he yelled, "Leave him the fuck alone." The words must have startled his attacker slightly, lessening the blow a little. Still, the wooden
instrument struck his shoulder solidly, Toby fell, his eyes closed; he could only react. He rolled away from the impact he was sure would follow. His face pressed into the gravel beneath him as he moved toward the wall. The pain reverberated through his arm, radiating out from his fingers. Through the darkness behind his eyes he heard unrecognizable voice.

"What the fuck is going on down there?" the disembodied voice bellowed.

Toby heard a jumble of voices, he opened his eyes a slit and looked up to where the bikers and his friends still stood. He saw a shadow of another man, but could not see any further.

"I said," the voice repeated, "what the fuck is going on?"

"Nuttin much," Chucky grumbled, "we was just having a little conversation with our pals here."

"Looks like a little more than conversation," the shadow-voice said as his eyes flicked down toward the baseball bat that still hung from Chucky's hand. "I'm sure the cops would love to hear what you were talking about."

"Shit, Chucky! I can't deal with no cops, I'd end up back in that shithole prison!" one of the other bikers almost whined.

Chucky rolled his eyes, "Well we were gettin' out of here anyway. No harm done."

Toby opened his eyes again, he tried to focus as first the bikers and then his own friends moved in opposite directions. The shadow of the other man still lingered. Toby could not suppress the pain any longer, a groan slipped from between his dry lips.

Toby heard the shadow's footsteps as the man moved toward him. He rolled himself up against the warm brickwall for support. Toby looked up and saw the shadowed man above him, the dark haired man crouched down next to where he lay.

"Christ," the man said, "you look like fucking shit."

"Thanks," Toby replied sarcastically as he tried to sit up against the wall. He looked into the eyes of the other man; quickly scanning the features; slightly crooked nose, dark hair, an intricate tattoo peeking out from beneath the T-shirt clad arm.

`Fuck, I should really thank him. He probably saved my life.'

"Sorry, I didn't mean that. What I really meant was thank you, you probably saved my life."

The other man just looked at him.

"Seriously, thanks. By the way, my name's Toby."

"Yeah, well, nice to meet you Toby," the man answered impatiently. "Don't need to thank me though, just doing my job."

"And what job would that be?" Toby asked.

"Bouncer. You gonna be all right? I gotta get out of here."

"Yeah, I don't think anything's broken," Toby replied, suddenly uncertain of his saviour. The other man stood up as Toby put his uninjured arm on the ground to get up. His breath hissed through his teeth as he winced at the movement. Toby felt the man's hand rest under his elbow as he was helped to his feet.

"I'd stay out of alleys from now on if I were you," the other man said before turning and walking toward the street.

Toby looked after him as he gingerly pressed his arm as close to his body as possible. He felt something running down his cheek, raising his good arm he swiped his hand across his face. Toby pulled his hand back and saw the smear of blood that ran over his fingers.

`Dammit. I have to figure out how I'm going to clean up before I go back to the dorm.'

Toby glanced up to see the other man just walking out into the street. He decided to take a chance.

"Hey," he called at the other man's back.

The man turned around, expectantly. Toby found himself the object of an intense stare for a second time that night. This time though, he was not sure how it made him feel, but it definitely was not fear. Toby picked up his pace as he walked toward the entrance to the alley. He stopped next to the man who's name he still did not know.

"Is that club still open?" he asked.

"No, closed about a half hour ago."

"Shit!"

"Problem?" the other man smirked.

"I gotta get this blood off my face, thought I could use their bathroom or something."

"Well, your out of luck."

"Fuck," Toby sighed, looking pitiful.

The man again held Toby in his unwavering gaze.

"Name's Chris," the man said, shaking his head. "If you really need to clean up, I just live two blocks down."

`Jesus, Keller, what the fuck are you doing? This guy looks like a fucking Gap ad.' Random thoughts flitted through his mind.

"Really?" Toby said, gratefully. "You don't mind?"

`Yeah, I actually do mind,' he thought. "No, it's fine. If you're coming, let's go."

Toby watched as Chris began walking briskly down the well-lit sidewalk. He held his arm to his body and followed. Toby spent the next block and a half trying to keep up with Chris's long stride.

When Chris abruptly stopped, in front of a dilapidated brick building, Toby almost barreled into his broad back. He watched as Chris fitted a key into the flimsy brass lock on the outer door.
Swinging the door wide, the two men stepped into the rundown foyer. Toby looked around, seeing the mailslots, none of which seemed capable of being locked, their metal doors scarred and hanging open. Chris opened another door in front of them revealing the stairwell. As Toby followed Chris up flight after flight of stairs, every step sent a shiver of pain through his shoulder. The two men finally came out onto a landing and Chris headed toward a door riddled with peeling paint and shallow dents.

Chris opened the door to his apartment, stepping into the small space and flipping on a dim overhead light; he held the door only long enough for Toby to slip inside. Chris dropped his keys onto a battered table near the entrance and continued the three steps into the combination living room/kitchen. Toby stood rooted to his spot by the door, not sure where he was expected to go.

"Bathroom's over there," Chris said brusquely, pointing toward a door that looked to be made of cardboard.

"Thanks," Toby replied lamely as he crossed the space in a couple of short strides. The bathroom seemed to be an extension of the rest of the building; the rusted faucet in the sink dripped sporadically, the tiles were chipped and broken, the mirror split his reflection into a spiderweb of cracks. Through the refraction Toby saw a few scrapes marring his cheeks; he wet a washcloth he found lying on the back of the toilet tank and wiped the blood from his face. He could hear
Chris rummaging around in the next room as he blotted his face with a dry towel that hung on the back of the door.

Toby gently pulled his shirt over his head to look at his damaged shoulder. There was an angry red welt from the bat, but he seemed to be able to rotate the joint, albeit not without pain. The only lasting effect of the earlier blow would be the black and blue mark that threatened beneath the surface. Toby tugged his shirt back on, still mindful of the pain that lingered.

Feeling somewhat presentable, Toby walked back out into the living area; he noticed Chris standing in the tiny kitchen, bare-chested. Toby cleared his throat to gain the man's attention. Chris spun on his heel as Toby spoke.

"Thanks again," he mumbled, while again under the intense scrutiny of Chris's clear blue eyes.

"Well, you seem to be looking a little better anyhow," Chris replied, noncommittally.

Toby could not resist the natural charisma that radiated from every pore of Chris's being, he wanted to continue this conversation with the enigmatic man who stood before him.

"Did you know those guys?" Toby asked trying to further the interaction.

"No." Chris's answer was clipped.

"Well, I was just wondering because you didn't seem very surprised about what was happening," Toby tried again.

"That's because I wasn't. Guys like that show up around there once a week." Chris turned to the refrigerator and grabbed a cold beer, popping the top and tossing it over his shoulder into the sink behind him.

"So that kind of thing happens a lot around there, huh?" Toby asked, wanting the conversation to continue.

"Yeah, when you're outside a gay club, a dark alley next door, there's always a chance of running into a few psychopathic homophobic assholes like those pricks."

Toby's jaw almost dropped when Chris's words registered in his mind. `Shit, they thought I was gay.'

"If I didn't look straight, they probably would've tried to knock me around too," Chris's words were matter-of-fact.

This time Toby's jaw did drop, he tried to cover his surprise as he clamped his jaw tightly.

"You're gay?" he asked, unable to keep the shock from tingeing his voice.

"Yeah, got a problem with that?" Chris answered, the first spark of anger bubbling beneath the surface.

Toby stumbled over his words, "No, no...it's just that...I didn't...um, I had no...fuck."

"That's it exactly," Chris replied, his anger slowly rising. "You have no idea about fucking, you're just a little preppy shit. I don't even know why I let you come back here and clean up. I'm sure
you're not used to slumming," Chris kept his voice controlled as he opened the front door.

Toby realized he was being dismissed. He walked to the door, stepping through to the hallway. Toby was not sure what he said that had bothered Chris so much, but it was more than obvious that he was no longer welcome in the man's apartment.

"I'm sor..." The door slammed in his face.

***

Toby had spent the past five days unable to get the memory of Chris out of his head. He had no idea what was going on in his own mind anymore, every time he tried to concentrate on something he would see Chris. It did not make sense.

`He's gay, you're straight. Get over it.' His mind repeated, over and over. Toby found, however, that no matter how many times that chant was recited it did nothing to stop his thoughts from straying to the memory of that night.

Toby had always thought gays were obvious; they had high-pitched voiced, they gestured wildly with their hands, they wore spandex and were constantly using words like `fabulous' or divine.' Chris had not been any of those things. Toby realized that for all intents and purposes Chris was exactly like him. This realization confused him, amazed him and made him even more curious about the man who had saved his life.

By the end of the week, Toby decided he had to do something to focus his mind on something else. He was again out barhopping, this time alone. He sat in the smoke-filled, shadowy rear of a small bar sipping a scotch and soda, he had lost count of exactly how many he had already consumed about a half hour ago. The alcohol had numbed his mind, but he still had not been able to get Chris out of his head. Toby dropped a fifty on the table to cover the tab and walked out into the cool night air.

The weather had changed dramatically over the past week, there was a constant chill in the air now. Toby's breath puffed out in front of him as he crossed the parking lot to his car. He slipped into the comfortable seat and turned the heater on; he had no idea where he was going, he just suddenly felt the need to leave. The interior of the car wrapped him in warmth as he pulled carefully out of the lot. When he stopped a short time later, he found himself outside of the bar Chris worked at. He hadn't consciously decided to go there, but it seemed his body had a mind of it's own.

Toby didn't get out of the car; he just sat across the street and watched Chris, who sat on a stool directing the flow of patrons. After a few minutes, Toby saw Chris get up and disappear into the
building. He sat there waiting as the people inside the club trickled out in small groups. The lights were extinguished a short while later, the bar was closed for the night. Toby wondered if Chris would come out the front door; he did not know why, but he knew he needed to see him again.

When Chris finally emerged from the building he had his arm around another young man. Toby watched the tableau as it played out before him, every nuance of their interaction imbedded itself into his brain. He tried to avert his eyes from the retreating figures, but he could not pull his gaze away.

Toby realized his breathing had quickened as he watched Chris slip his hand across the other man's ass, gripping the denim clad flesh and pulling the man closer. Suddenly the two men were engaged in a passionate kiss. Toby's hand dropped from the steering wheel into his lap, his palm sliding over his crotch.

`Jesus, what the fuck am I doing?' he asked himself, pulling his hand away as if it were on fire. He gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white from the pressure. Toby turned his head away, trying to erase the image from his mind. He laid his head against the glass, the cold tempered his emotions. Toby turned his head back to look toward the two men, still locked together in lust.

Unexpectedly, Toby had to fight the urge to jump out of the car and rip the two men apart. His anger flared as jealousy raged through his veins.

`Shit, what's wrong with me?'

Toby had no answer to his own question as the men parted and continued down the street. Without thinking, he started the car and drove the two blocks to Chris's building. He'd go in and apologize and thank Chris again for his help, he rationalized his actions as he crossed the street to Chris's building.

Toby stepped up to the door, suddenly remembering that the outer door was locked. The only choice he had would be to buzz Chris's apartment; he knew the two men had already entered, he had watched them. Toby poised his finger over the small button next to Chris's apartment number, his other hand rested on the cold metal of the door handle. Just as he was about to press the buzzer, someone appeared on the other side of the door. An old man with a scraggly beard pushed open the door. Feigning politeness, Toby held the door open for the man. Once the man had cleared his path Toby stepped into the building and made his way up the stairs to Chris's floor.

Toby stopped in front of Chris's apartment, his fist connecting several times with the thin wooden door. Bouncing on the balls of his feet, he waited for Chris to open the door. He could hear the
deadbolt as it was turned; in the next moment Chris was standing in front of him.

The tightwire of Toby's emotions suddenly snapped. He moved forward and crushed his lips hard against Chris's. Toby felt Chris's hands come up to his shoulders and he allowed himself to surrender to the sensation of his mouth pressed against another man. The trance he had fallen into was shattered as he felt himself being propelled back out into the corridor.

"What the fuck is going on, Keller?" a voice Toby did not recognize asked in annoyance. "I thought we were together tonight. Jesus!"

"Nothing, babe," Chris replied confidently, his tone smooth as he tried to soothe the other man's feelings.

"Yeah, really looks that way," the other man said as he pushed past both Chris and Toby. "Everyone told me you were an asshole, now I know why. I'm outta here. I don't need this shit."

Chris started toward the stairwell, intent on stopping the other man from leaving.

"Forget it, Keller," the man shot at Chris over his shoulder as he opened the door to the stairs. Chris stopped in his tracks; he watched as the door slowly closed on it's pneumatic arm.

"Dammit!"

Chris turned toward Toby, his mouth set in an angry line; he closed the distance between them.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Chris demanded, the depth of his anger dripping from each syllable.

Toby took a step backwards as he tried to remove himself from within Chris's reach. His eyes skittered over Chris; Toby felt his face flush, but not as a result of the liquor he had recently consumed.

"I just wanted...I kept thinking...I saw you...wanted to...don't know why...couldn't stop... try... you..."

"Yeah, I get it now. You wanted to experiment, right?" Chris growled. "well let me clue you in, I am not a fucking lab rat."

"I wasn't..."

"Save it, " Chris hissed. "If you want an experiment go to some preppy gay bar, get your cock sucked by some goddamn fairy who'll put up with your straight boy fantasies. I don't really give a shit one way or another. Just stay the fuck away from me!"

"I didn't..." Toby tried again to speak.

"Get. Out. Now." Chris interrupted, his glare enough to force Toby toward the stairs. Chris stood perfectly still; his eyes never strayed from Toby's retreating form.

Toby entered the stairwell, almost running to get out onto the street; he was embarrassed and humiliated. He pushed through into the cold night air, the wind rushing past his body as he tried to calm down. Toby took deep lungfuls of air, the chilled breaths taking some of the edge off his frustration. Toby stared at the building, the flickering streetlamp illuminated the front door
sporadically.

`Fuck this! He's going to listen to me, no matter what he wants.' The lingering effects of the alcohol drove him back toward the door. `Shit, the damn lock,' he thought as he grabbed the handle. Toby decided to take a chance on the obvious decay of the building; he tugged on the glass door. There was some resistance at first, but Toby persisted and the door swung open.

Determined, Toby again ascended the stairs to Chris's apartment; he tried to prepare himself for the potential confrontation. The liquid fortification kicked in; it emboldened him and he was not going to back down again.

Toby pounded on the door, his fist hammering another dent into the already battered wood.

"Fuck!" he could hear Chris's voice on the other side. The door flew open and Toby was again challenged by Chris's intense observation.

"I thought I told you to stay the fuck away from me," Chris seethed as he started to close the door.

Toby was not going to let himself be shut out; he took a step forward barring the progress of the door.

"Goddammit," Chris grumbled, letting go of the door and giving Toby access to the apartment.

"You're a prick," Toby started. "I just came up here to thank you for saving my life a week ago and all you could do was act like a rude shit."

"Oh, poor you. I don't really give a rat's ass. I lost my fuck for the night and I'm horny as hell. So...if you want to thank me..." his voice trailed off.

"If I want to thank you, what?" Toby countered.

"I'm just saying, if you really want to thank me, drop your pants and bend over."

Toby's face burned a brilliant shade of crimson. He tried to speak, but his voice seemed to be tangled within his vocal chords.

Chris noted Toby's reaction, an amused smirk on his lips as he moved closer; he invaded Toby's personal space. Chris raised his hand to Toby's face, his fingers caressing the stubbled jawline. Toby found that Chris's touch mesmerized him; he stood, unable to move.

Chris drew his fingers lightly along Toby's exposed collarbone, around to the back of his neck teasing the fine hairs at the nape. Chris's hands traveled down Toby's chest; he circled the peaked
nipples beneath the soft cotton. An involuntary sigh slipped from Toby's throat as Chris's hands slid further down his torso. Chris caught Toby's reaction; he looked at the other man's face, Toby's eyes were closed. A smile began to turn up the corners of Chris's mouth; he continued to study Toby's face as he lazily massaged the other man's abdomen. His hands began to trail lower, past Toby's waist.

Chris's fingers brushed across Toby's groin, he felt the cock twitch in response to the intimate contact. Chris wrapped his fist around the hardening member. He leaned in closer, his tongue flicking lightly over Toby's earlobe.

"I see someone's interested," Chris whispered against Toby's ear, his breath a warm caress.

Toby's eyes suddenly flew open; he staggered back, away from Chris's probing fingers.

"Fuck you," Toby mumbled, scrambling to open the door.

"Thought we were getting to that," Chris grinned, calling after him, as Toby fled from the apartment.

Toby ran headlong down the stairs; he burst through the front door onto the deserted street. The cold air did nothing to cool his overheated skin as he continued to run across the street to his car.
Toby yanked his keys from his pocket, fumbling for the right one. It was only by sheer luck that he pushed the right key into the lock, dropping himself into the safe cocoon of the vehicle.

Toby drove erratically, ignoring the speed limit as he raced back to his dorm. He pulled into the student lot and jogged across the dew specked grass to the entrance of his building; Toby was still running on the adrenaline that had catapulted him from Chris's apartment. Opening the door to his room, he fell onto the narrow bed and closed his eyes. Toby's mind struggled to wrap around what had just transpired and why he had wanted it so badly. He lay there for almost a half hour before he gave up on trying to understand his own actions and reactions.

Toby lifted himself from the bed; he stripped down to his boxers and slid beneath the cool cotton sheets. Closing his eyes, he tried to sleep. Sleep, however, was an elusive mistress. The events of
earlier replayed behind his eyelids. Toby surrendered to the memory of Chris's touch as his own hand wrapped around his hardening cock. He imagined Chris's strong grip rubbing him; his thumb brushing across the smooth slit, spreading the creamy liquid along the shaft. In Toby's mind, Chris's strokes lengthened, his hand moving faster and faster until Toby could feel himself tense. Exhaling, a strangled cry emerged from between Toby's lips.

"Chris," Toby breathed as he climaxed. The sticky substance streamed from the head, coating his hand and dampening the thin sheet that covered him. A smile settled on his face. Toby was finally able to sleep.

***

Across town in Chris Keller's small bedroom a similar scene had begun.

Chris lay in bed, naked; he was sweating as he tossed and turned, trying to erase the memory of touching the exasperating man who had stood so close to him just an hour earlier. Chris could still smell the sweet scent of Toby's skin that had assaulted him when he leaned in close.

Chris had thought that fucking with Toby's head would help take the edge off of his arousal, but it had not. He had taken a cold shower, and still he was horny.

"Damn," he sighed as he reached down, enveloping his turgid shaft. Chris rocked his hips with an erotic rhythm as his hand stroked in concert.

Subconsciously, Chris's mind focused on the memory of Toby's tight body beneath the caress of his hands. The way the other man had involuntarily reacted to Chris's ministrations had only spurred him to continue his teasing. Chris imagined it was Toby's cock that he fondled, moving up and down rapidly. Chris could almost hear Toby's voice whisper his name; suddenly he felt himself teetering on the edge of release.

With two more quick strokes, the tension in Chris's body flowed from him as he orgasmed. His cock twitched spasmodically, spurting cum across his chest. The intensity of the orgasm left him feeling weak.

Chris reached over to the nighttable, grabbing a handful of tissues to wipe himself clean. He dropped the soiled toweling on the floor as he rolled over. Closing his eyes, he drifted into sleep; images of Toby hovering along the edge of his consciousness.

-TO BE CONTINUED-