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Fic - Fuzzy Slippers

Fic: Fuzzy Slippers
Series: Two Wrongs Make a Right/AU (Can be read as a stand-alone.)
No money being made, no infringement intended.
Thanks to Mav, for some very inspiring inspiration!

Toby woke when Chris came into the bedroom, but didn't say anything. He lay on his side, arm curled under his head, just watching; he was in no hurry to see how upset he was.

Chris went to the large dresser across from the end of the bed, turning on the small lamp there as he did every night. As Toby caught Chris' dim reflection in the large mirror, his guilt returned full force. He should have been there tonight, but his early day had turned into a very late night.

The small firm he was working for was suing the slumlord of three apartment buildings on behalf of the tenants. They would accept only a small percentage of the settlement, if the case was ruled in their favor. The firm had been informed two weeks ago that the trial date had been moved up by almost a month, so the incredible work load they'd already been experiencing had practically doubled. Today they'd been given new information which had added considerably to that work load. That seemed a legitimate reason for missing tonight, but that didn't mean Chris wouldn't have a legitimate reason for being upset.

As Toby watched Chris undress, he thought back to their brief encounter earlier today.

He'd come home from work to pick up a file he'd left, and had been pleased to see Chris' Mustang still parked out front - he'd be able to catch a few minutes with him. When he walked into the apartment, though, he was surprised to find Brad, the club bartender, and his boyfriend, Tim, sitting on the couch.

"Hey, guys. What's up?" Toby shrugged out of his coat and made sure all the snow was off his shoes before stepping into the room.

"We're chauffeuring Chris tonight," Brad answered. "Didn't want him to have to leave the Mustang at the club if it didn't start again."

Again. Toby didn't know there had been a first time, but that wasn't surprising. He and Chris hadn't spent more than a few minutes awake together for several days - there was probably a lot not getting said.

He just nodded, then turned to go down the hall, almost getting knocked over by Chris hurrying into the living room.

"Shit!" Chris reached out to grab Toby's arms, steadying him, then pulled him into a hug. "This is a nice surprise," he murmured.

Toby made a sound of agreement as he returned the hug. God, Chris felt good in his arms. He was clean-shaven and smelled wonderful, warm and musky and sexy. Toby took a step back to look him over - he wouldn't be wearing his usual work clothes tonight. He was dressed in his short, black boots, and his tight, *tight*, black leather pants. His shirt was a body-hugging white tee, molded to every muscle, with the long sleeves pushed up, exposing his powerful forearms.

"If I was Toby, I'd find it almost impossible to not just fuck him right now."

Toby's mouth quirked in a grin over this comment, whispered behind him by Tim, and at Brad's mortified response for him to shut up. "Chris is my boss, for hell's sake."

Chris heard also, judging by the flush coloring his face. He ran his hands up Toby's arms, tickling the skin under the edge of his sleeve. "Is it really impossible to not want to fuck me right now?" he whispered.

"When isn't it?" Toby whispered back. In a normal voice, he asked, "So, what's up with the Mustang?"

"No big deal. It's died on me a few times - probably the starter.
Chris took his hand and pulled him toward the kitchen. "Let's go in the kitchen and talk about it." He nodded to the men on the sofa. "We'll be right back."

"Well, that wasn't obvious at all - everyone needs privacy to talk cars, don't they?" Toby commented as they moved out of sight of Brad and Tim.

His answer was to be pushed up against the wall and kissed; a desperate, wet, hard kiss. His arms went around Chris, grabbing his ass and pulling him close, feeling himself grow instantly hard against Chris' hip.

When they finally parted, gasping, Toby buried his face in Chris' neck, inhaling deeply. "You smell fucking great. Brad and Tim did good." The aftershave had been the couple's Christmas gift to Chris. He sighed. "Do you realize it's been almost two weeks since we've had sex?"

Chris pulled back to look at Toby. "I know. And it just ain't right, Beecher." His hands slipped under Toby's shirt, sliding over his stomach and up to his chest, his thumbs flicking the hardening nipples. "I'd give anything to be able to drop to my knees right now and suck you off."

Toby made a small moaning noise in his throat and closed his eyes, putting a picture to those words. He leaned his head back against the wall as Chris continued talking, his face close, his breath hot on Toby's face, his hands roaming and stroking.

"And then I'd lay you down and push your legs up and bury myself between them. I'd suck your balls into my mouth. I'd lick and suck your asshole, and bury my tongue in you." His hands moved down and around until his was cupping Toby's bottom. "I wanna fuck your ass with my tongue, baby. I wanna make you squirm."

Toby shivered and his cock throbbed in his jeans. He opened his eyes to find Chris staring intently at him. He pushed the palm of his hand against the front of Chris' pants, feeling the hard heat beneath the leather. "And then you'd shove this," he squeezed gently, "inside me and fuck me 'till we both come."

Chris groaned. He lay his head on Toby's shoulder, moving his hips, grinding himself against Toby's hand. Suddenly, he stepped away, his expression pained.

"I gotta go." He looked down, his desire evident, bulging against the restraint of his pants. "Jesus, I can't go out there like this. I'd never hear the end of it from Tim."

"It's not like they don't know what we were doing," Toby said, reaching inside the front of his pants, adjusting himself. He cursed under his breath; it had been great spending these few minutes with Chris, but it had only left him missing their time together more than ever. Not to mention giving them both a near case of blue balls.

Chris took a minute to get a drink, and breathed a sigh of relief when he spotted his coat on one of the kitchen chairs. He buttoned up the long, leather jacket, a Christmas gift from Toby, and came over to kiss him good-bye.

"When you get there tonight I'm taking you into the office, I don't give a shit how busy it is."

"Okay," Toby agreed, offering his cheek. Chris grinned, and planted a quick, chaste kiss on him.

"Let's go!" Chris called, heading toward the front door. Toby went to the kitchen archway to watch them leave.

"Bye, Toby. See you tonight."

"Later, Brad. Tim."

Tim turned and winked. "Happy New Year, lucky devil."

Toby could feel himself blush this time, and resisted the urge to look down and see if his erection was obvious.

Chris left last. "I love you, Toby. See ya later."

"I love you, too."

And that was the last time they'd seen each other, almost twelve hours ago.

Toby sat up as he watched Chris finish undressing. His boots, socks, and shirt were in a small pile on the floor, and now he was working on the zipper on the back of the pants - it always gave him trouble.

"Come here, I'll help you."

Chris looked over. After a moment's hesitation, he walked to the bed, standing with his back to Toby. Toby worked at the stubborn zipper, finally getting it loose. He was careful not to catch any fine hairs in the teeth - Chris didn't wear underwear with these pants. Toby didn't think any would fit.

Instead of taking the pants off, Chris sat down on the edge of the bed. "Sorry I woke you," he said, just like he did every night, and Toby thought was a good sign.

"It's okay," Toby answered, just like he did every night. As hard as Chris tried to be quiet when he came home in the early hours of the morning, Toby always woke up. Sometimes he would go right back to sleep. Sometimes he'd wait for Chris to get out of the shower - if he didn't join him - and they'd make love.

But the nights he liked the best were when he wasn't too tired, or Chris would come home early, and they'd sit at the little kitchen table with a beer or cup of coffee and talk about their respective days. Unfortunately, for far too long now, he'd been too tired for the talks, or even to make love. And when he got up in the morning, Chris was usually in the middle of a deep sleep that even Toby's alarm didn't disturb. December was a big month at the club, and Chris was working longer hours than usual - he'd been coming home as beat as Toby.

He hung his legs off the edge of the bed, sitting next to Chris, but giving him space. "I'm sorry about tonight," he began. "I tried to call--"

"I know," Chris answered, leaning back on his elbows, "Brad told me. I tried to call back, but the office phone was busy, and so was yours."

"I'm sorry."

"So, what happened?" Chris' voice was frustratingly neutral, and Toby back at him, trying to judge his mood. His expression was simply curious, but his eyes were weary. Not just from the late hour, Toby knew, but from being as tired of their current situation as he was.

"It was 11:30 before we realized what time it was."

"You still could've made it."

"I know, but we decided to just work through and finish what we were doing." Listening to himself explain it made Toby feel even worse. It sounded like nothing more than the big, fat excuse it was. This case was important, but the world wouldn't have ended if he'd left work for an hour to start the new year with Chris.

"So what time did you get home?"

"About 1:30."

Chris looked at the clock on the night stand.

"So you've had, what, about two hours sleep?"

Toby shrugged. "I've been getting by on power naps for awhile now."

Chris sat up and took Toby's hand in both of his, playing with his fingers. "Something's gotta give here, babe. I've been thinking about it a lot lately."

"Things will change as soon as this case is over, Chris. A few more months --"

"Classes will be starting again soon, Tobe, you'll be busier than ever. You're not going to have a free minute."

Toby bristled, irritated at Chris for throwing facts he was well aware of into his face. He just stopped himself from pulling his hand away as he realized Chris wasn't throwing anything in his face - he was simply stating the facts, not blaming Toby for them.

"I know," he sighed. "I already told Marie that I wasn't going to be able to keep up this pace."

"And what was her reaction?" Chris was smiling; he liked Toby's boss, a feisty older woman who had spent her whole life dedicated to the less fortunate.

"She was understanding, sort of. She knows people don't live for their work like she does, though she seems to have conveniently forgotten that fact the past few weeks."

"Maybe she'll work with us on a schedule for you."

"What do you mean?"

Chris lay back on the bed, pulling Toby down with him. "I talked to Brad tonight, and officially promoted him to manager."

Toby pushed himself partway up, leaning on his elbow over Chris. "No shit. About time."

"Don't start."

Every since Chris had become owner of Tony's Place, he'd been training Brad in the day-to-day operation of the club. He'd given him a generous raise, but hadn't been able to take that next step and give up the title of "manager".

"What was his reaction?"

"He was pretty fuckin' happy, especially since I gave him another raise, but I thought Tim was going to deep-tongue me, he was so excited."

Toby laughed, partly at the thought of Tim's flamboyant reaction, but also in relief that Chris wasn't upset with him. His hand dropped to Chris' body, rubbing aimlessly over his bare chest and stomach as they talked. "So what does this all have to do with us working out a schedule?"

Chris reached up to play with the curls falling over Toby's ear. "I'm going to be home more in the evenings. I'm thinking I'll start taking more time off as soon as we can get a new bartender in there. Probably three nights a week, and we can work it out to be opposite your classes. Or," he paused, looking at Toby uncertainly, "maybe you can get your classes switched to mornings and cut down at work. Then you can be home with me the nights I'm off, and do your studying or maybe work late if Marie needs you the nights I'm at the club. That way you wouldn't have to go to school after working all day."

"Wow." Toby was genuinely surprised. In all his musings over how to spend more time together, Chris giving up some of his time at the club had never been a serious option. Sure, he'd thought about it, but only in an abstract way. Chris loved what he was doing, and he thrived on his 80-plus-hour work weeks. Toby would never have presumed to ask him to give any of it up.

"Are you sure? That'll still leave you some down time here. What'll you do?"

Chris tugged gently at Toby's hair. "I'll still be doing work here on the computer. It's not like I'm going to be sitting around in my underwear with a beer in my hand all day. Maybe I'll learn how to cook something besides eggs and waffles. Wouldn't you like to have a home-cooked dinner every once in awhile?"

Toby was overcome - he still couldn't believe Chris was offering to do this. "You know, I don't even have to work right now, Chris. I can do school nights or mornings, it wouldn't matter, and be here with you in the afternoons before you leave. You don't have to give up anything for me."

Chris cupped Toby's face in his hands. "I know I don't. And you don't have to give up anything for me. I know how much you love your job, and as long as you can do it and school without burning out, you should. I *want* to do this...for us."

He raised his hands over his head, stretching with a long, satisfied groan. "Besides, remember what I said about maybe expanding the club? If I do that in a couple years, you'll probably see less of me than you do now - so take me while you can."

Toby laid his head on Chris' chest. "But by then I'll be a respected law professor, and be able to spend my evenings grading papers and doing lesson plans in my booth at the club."

Chris stroked Toby's head. "As much as I'd love to have you there, I don't know how much work you could get done with the Village People as background noise. Plus, you'd keep getting interrupted with guys hitting on you."

"Yeah, right," Toby responded with a snort.

"Hey, don't sell yourself short, Beecher. You know all eyes are on you every time you come into the place." Chris stood and pushed his pants down to his knees. Sitting back down, he stuck his legs out in front of him. "A little help?"

Toby got up and grabbed the waist of the tight pants. He walked backward, peeling the tight leather from Chris' legs.

"Fuck, that feels good. I was cooking in those things." Chris shook his head dismissively. "He tilted his head at Toby. "One of us is seriously over-dressed."

Toby began rectifying the situation by pulling his shirt over his head. "Why don't you start the shower, and I'll be right here?"

As soon as Toby stepped into the shower, he was embraced by Chris. They held each other, kissing deeply, but much more patiently than this afternoon. They slowly turned as they kissed, until both were equally wet. Toby didn't think anything could feel better than Chris' hard body pressing against the front him, while the spray of hot water warmed him from behind. After a few minutes, Chris directed the shower toward the back wall before maneuvering Toby there, having him lean against the wet, warmed tiles. He soaped up his hands and started a long, thorough massage of his back.

Toby felt like he could just melt right there. Chris was working over his neck, his shoulders, rubbing hard on the spot on the small of his back that always acted up when he'd been sitting a long time.

The firm hands moved down, kneading the cheeks of his ass and then the tops of his thighs. On down, digging into his calves before taking hold of his feet, one at a time.

"Be careful," Chris said as he lifted each foot and rubbed his thumbs in circular motions up and down the soles.

By the time he was done, Toby was so relaxed he thought he could probably curl up and go to sleep right there.

"You're the one that could use a foot massage," he said. "You've been on them all day."

"Hmm." Chris was leaning against him now, licking at his ears. "And you've been on your ass all day, so does that mean it needs a little more attention?"

Chris' fingers skimmed over the tight, round globes of Toby's rear end, up and down, moving closer to the center with each stroke.

"I haven't forgotten what you said earlier," Toby said, his sleepiness quickly being replaced by another, more urgent feeling. He spread his legs, anticipating Chris' actions.

"Oh, me neither." Chris' hands left him, returning slick and soapy. One reached around to gently cup Toby's balls, just holding them, while the fingers of his other slid into the cleft of Toby's ass, rubbing up and down, skimming over his hole. "As soon as we get out of here, this..." One finger slid into Toby, just the tip, in and out, slow and shallow. "...will be my tongue."

Toby groaned. Oh, it felt good, but he had a strong need to be on the giving end right now. He turned and grabbed Chris, reversing their positions, pushing his back up against the wall.

"Hey," Chris protested, "I wasn't finished yet."

"Yeah, you were," Toby argued. "Any more of that, and *I* would have been finished." He grabbed a bottle of conditioner from the small shelf and dropped to his knees, blinking the water from his eyes, keeping them on Chris' face. "Let me show you my gratitude for you trying your hand at domesticity."

"Hey," smiled Chris, "you figured me out. It was all a ploy to get you on your knees." He suddenly sucked in a deep breath as Toby's slickened fingers wrapped around his hardening cock. The other hand was moving between his legs, fondling his balls, rolling them, pulling on them, then rubbing the smooth skin behind them, slowly moving further back to find the tight opening.

"That's good, baby...yeah, like that, put it in me. Christ, your hands feel good on me."

Toby carefully pushed first one then another finger into Chris, until they were fully enveloped. He spent a minute twisting and scissoring, but when he moved to pull them out, Chris made a sound of protest and bent his legs, his body simply following the fingers. Toby felt a spike of heat in his belly, and he pushed up, forcing Chris to straighten, then slowly pulled down again. Chris repeated his actions, keeping Toby's fingers from completely leaving his body.

Toby looked up, and saw that Chris was looking down at him through narrow slits of his eyes, his mouth open, his breath coming heavy, water running off his face in fine rivulets.

"You like that? You like riding my fingers? You like fucking yourself on them?" Chris nodded wordlessly. "Then do it." He held his hand as steady as he could while Chris lowered and raised himself. He groaned his pleasure, and splayed his arms out, palms pressing the wall. As he impaled himself over and over, his cock was sliding in and out of the loose fist Toby was making around it.

Toby watched Chris' face through it all. His eyes were now closed tight, and his bottom lip was caught between his teeth. His breath was pushed through his nose every time he lowered himself onto Toby's fingers.

After only a couple minutes, he felt a subtle shift in Chris' body and knew he was close.

"Tobe, Toby." Chris was pleading.

"Hold still, Chris, just hold still, I got ya."

Chris stopped moving, other than to drop his hands to Toby's head and clench handfuls of his hair.

Toby leaned forward and took Chris' cock into his mouth, as deep as he could, sucking and swallowing, as his fingers continued to move inside Chris.

Chris was chanting, "oh god, oh god, oh god" and then his whole body stiffened before he began convulsing. His hands tightened in Toby's hair and his cock pulsed in Toby's mouth. The way his body tightened around Toby's fingers made his own cock twitch in response.

As Chris' orgasm subsided, Toby carefully withdrew his fingers and stood up. Chris lay his head on Toby's shoulder, and he held him until he stopped shaking.

"Man, I thought I'd have a fucking stroke. You don't know how many times I've fantasized about that over the past couple weeks."

"Actually, I probably do."

After rinsing off in the cooling water and toweling dry - Chris insisted on using the blow dryer on Toby's hair - Chris pulled Toby to him, kissing him, licking his lips, touching Toby's cock, hanging heavy between his legs.

"Let's go, babe," he whispered, guiding Toby from the bathroom and down the hall to the dark living room. He stopped to plug in the lights from the tree, giving the room a warm, soft glow.

"What did you have in mind?" Toby asked, as Chris adjusted the large pillow on their huge chair, an item salvaged from a flea market shortly after Toby had moved in.

"You sit," Chris ordered, and Toby did. Chris turned him a little, so his back was against the pillow, set where the arm and the back of the chair came together. Then he grabbed him by the calves and pulled, until Toby was right up to the edge of the chair at a slight angle.

Chris pushed Toby's legs up, planting one of his feet on an arm of the chair, and telling Toby to hang on to the other. Toby hooked his arm around his leg, pulling it up, his heart pounding in anticipation as he was spread out in front of his lover.

"Oh, jesus, Toby, you look so hot right now." Chris knelt in front of him, running his hands up the inside of his thighs. Toby watched as Chris licked his lips, his gaze intent on the opening exposed to him.

As Chris' head bent toward him, Toby closed his eyes, and managed to hold in a shout as Chris' tongue finally touched him.

Oh, christ, it was good, so fucking sweet. Chris' lips and tongue were all over him. He kissed the soft skin of Toby's cheeks, and licked the cleft between in long, lapping strokes. He sucked Toby's balls into his mouth, one at at time, then both together, tugging at them while his finger rubbed intently at Toby's hole, taking him just to the precipice of pain, but never over. The intensity of it had Toby fully hard and leaking in moments.

Keeping his eyes closed, he heard Chris spit, felt the warmth against his skin. And then Chris' tongue was licking, pushing, jabbing at him, working into him until he was sliding in and out, fucking him with his tongue, just like he said he would.

This continued for another minute, and when Chris stopped Toby thought he'd cry in frustration. But then...then Chris was sucking on his hole and Toby groaned - the sensation was incredible. He opened his eyes, watching Chris pull away from him with a loud, wet, sucking sound, then burying himself in Toby's ass to do it again.

He was panting now, and his cock was straining and leaking on his belly. He was so hard, but he was afraid to touch himself, afraid he would come, and he didn't want that, not yet.

"Chris, stop, you have to stop now. I'm so close."

Chris looked up, his hands still running over Toby's thighs and ass, his thumbs rubbing at his aching hole. "It's okay, Toby, do it."

Toby shook his head. "I want you inside me when I do. Can you...?"

"What? Can I get it up again? Are you kidding me?" Chris grinned cockily as he stood up, stroking himself, his cock hard and full. His smile faded and his eyes softened as he grew serious. "That's from you, just from touching you, from tasting you."

Toby reached for him; Chris took his hand, twining their fingers together as he leaned over, holding himself up on the arm of the chair. "Just thinking of you makes me crazy sometimes." He kissed Toby softly, slowly, his tongue playing over Toby's lips before pushing gently into his mouth.

Toby clutched at Chris' shoulders, almost crazy himself from his need for Chris to make love to him. He turned his head, whispering against Chris' cheek. "I love you, Chris Keller. I love you so much."

Chris made a low sound in the back of his throat, and then, with almost a growl, he tugged at Toby, pulling him to the floor and turning him, bending him over the chair. Chris was kneeling between his spread legs, massaging the smooth globes of his ass, spreading him. Toby was making quiet, needy sounds in his throat, pushing his hips back, clutching the cushion of the chair, waiting impatiently.

And then Chris was doing it, pushing into Toby with one long, slow stroke, stretching and burning, filling him until he had to gasp for air, feeling as though the breath had been pushed from his lungs.

Chris hesitated, giving Toby time to adjust, but Toby reached behind him, digging his fingers into Chris' hip, urging him on - it had been so long.

"Don't stop, Chris, don't stop. Oh, god, that dick feels so good."

"Can you feel me, Toby, can you feel my dick in you? Oh god, you're so hot, so tight. I've missed you so much, baby." Chris was rubbing Toby's back as he pumped into him; the other hand reached beneath and began stroking him, slowly at first, then jerking his cock as he began fucking him harder and harder.

Toby didn't know how much longer he could stand it - his whole body was one big nerve. The fabric of the chair was rubbing on his cheek and stomach; his skin was damp with sweat, hot when Chris touched him, then cool when he pulled away; he could feel the fibers of the rug beneath them press into his knees; Chris' thumb was flicking the head of his cock, making him jump. And every time Chris slammed into him he grunted with the bruising force of it, yet couldn't get enough.

And then Chris was laying across his back, urging him on with obscene words of encouragement. He pushed his hair to the side and he bit Toby's neck, and the shock of it went straight to Toby's cock, and he was coming hard, thrusting into Chris' hand. Chris shoved the fingers of his other hand into Toby's mouth, and he bit them, sucked them, yelled around them as his orgasm went on and on.

Just as his convulsions began to ease up, he realized Chris was coming also, arching back and gripping tight to Toby's waist.

A few moments later, Chris carefully eased himself from Toby's body. Toby took a deep breath and pushed himself to his feet;
he put out his hand and pulled Chris up.

"That was pretty fucking intense." Chris looked a little worried. "Are you okay?"

Toby smiled and nodded. "I think we needed it like that, like some kind of catharsis for our pent up frustration."

"We're never going that long again, babe."

Toby chuckled. "You know, a lot of people go longer than that with no sex."

Chris leaned in to capture Toby's lips in a quick kiss. "They don't have you."

Toby stroked his hands over Chris' cheeks, pulling him close for another kiss. "You were pretty incredible."

"You, too." Chris was looking solemnly at Toby, his fingers tracing a line from his ear to his shoulder, until a twinkle lit his eye. "Hey, we started the new year with a real bang, didn't we?"

Toby rolled his eyes. "You know, I was thinking that, but I refrained from actually saying it."

They walked hand in hand to the kitchen, where they cleaned up and each opened a beer, and tapped the bottles together.


They moved to the bedroom, where Toby pulled on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. Chris chose a pair of flannel boxers and a long-sleeve thermal shirt. Back in the living room, Toby sat down on the end of the couch while Chris went to get them the last beer to split. He looked at the chair and frowned, then called out. "Chris, we need a towel for - "

"Got it," Chris said as he came into the room. He handed the beer to Toby, then wiped off the front of the chair with a damp towel.

"We really do need to get that Scotch-Guarded."

"Yep," said Chris, as he lay down on the couch with his feet on Toby's lap. "It'll be the first thing on my honey-do list."

"Don't go getting carried away. I don't want to come home finding you wearing an apron and fuzzy slippers."

Chris reached for the beer, and took a small sip. "What if that's all I'm wearing?" he winked.

"I'll just have to hope there's film in the camera." Toby's smile faded as he shifted, looking for a more comfortable position.

"Fuck, Toby, you're hurting." Chris started moving his feet, but Toby grabbed them.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"I'm going to let you lie down, get off your ass."

"Jesus, Chris, a sore behind isn't unheard of, ya know? Besides, you know you've missed this, too." He began massaging one of Chris' feet, causing its owner to forget about moving as he closed his eyes and moaned contentedly.

Toby paused to grab the remote from the coffee table, and start the Eric Clapton CD Chris had given him for Christmas. As the music started, it reminded him of what Brad had told him on the phone earlier.

"I'm sorry we didn't get a chance to talk earlier, but I didn't want Brad to interrupt the hot session of the Hokey Pokey you had going."

Chris' eyes popped open, and he frowned at Toby. "He fucking told you that?" Toby laughed in reply. "Jesus, someone was taping that, too!"

"Oh, honey, you're gonna get blackmailed!" Toby declared. "You're a good sport, you know that? I bet it was Billie's idea."

"How'd you know?"

"God, Chris, he practically drools every time he looks at you. He just wanted the chance to see you stick your ass in and shake it all about."

Chris shuddered dramatically. "And I obliged."

They shared a chuckle over the incident, and then Chris closed his eyes again while Toby continued the massage. They sat like that for three songs, until Toby had paid thorough attention to every inch of Chris' feet. When he was done, he softly stroked the tops of them, looking at Chris. He looked so peaceful, the lines of his face softened in the glow of the tree lights.

Toby felt a push against his chest - he knew how unbelievably lucky he was to have this man in his life. And not just have him in his life, but to have Chris willing to alter his own life for him. To have someone love him more than anything else in the world.

Chris eyes opened then, and he looked curiously at Toby. "Everything okay? You look so serious."

"Chris, are you absolutely sure you want to do this with your job? You could just cut back on your hours a little, but still go in every day. I know you're going to miss it."

Chris swung his legs off Toby and sat up. "C'mere, lay down." Toby scooted over and lay down on his side, his head on Chris' lap.

Chris carded his fingers through Toby's hair as he talked. "I could just cut back a little on my hours every day, and maybe that's what I'll end up doing. But for now, this is what I want. I was thinking about fixing this place up a little, doing some painting, new fixtures on the kitchen cabinets. What do you think about hardwood floors?"

Toby peeked over the edge of the couch. "We have hardwood floors."

"I'm talkin' about through the whole apartment, smart-ass. What do you think about crown molding in here?"

Toby smiled at Chris' enthusiasm. "I think crown molding would look great." They sat quietly for awhile, listening to Clapton and watching the lights. After a bit, Toby turned onto his back to look at Chris. "I'm sorry I wasn't at the club to start the new year with you."

"Me too, babe, but nothing could have been better than this. Now, let's try to get some sleep before the sun comes up...in an hour." Chris pulled the small throw from the back of the couch and covered Toby.

Toby turned back on his side and pulled part of the blanket over Chris' legs. He yawned hugely, his exhaustion catching up to him. "You gonna be able to sleep okay, sitting up?"

"You know I can." Chris draped his arm over Toby's shoulder, comforting him with the weight.

"I love you, Chris. I'm a lucky man."

"I know you are. Happy New Year, Toby Tobias Beecher."

Toby smiled sleepily. "Happy New Year, Christopher Keller."




( 4 comments — Leave a comment )
Jan. 9th, 2004 08:28 pm (UTC)
You need to tell the part of your brain that criticizes your HML writing abilities to SHUT UP cause that was one of the hottest, juiciest love scenes I've ever read. And I wouldn't say that just to stroke your ego. I'm very picky about my love scenes, so there. *g*
Jan. 9th, 2004 08:54 pm (UTC)
Okay, I give! lol! I really don't want to sound like I'm fishing for compliments, so I'll shut up on the subject (at least for now *g*) and graciously accept your generous praise. Thank you. :)
Jan. 9th, 2004 09:46 pm (UTC)
See? It's not just me!
Nov. 3rd, 2010 10:52 pm (UTC)

sooo great. soooo fucking great. what a great addition to the series. keep it up!
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