Title: Hit and Run
Pairing: B/K - Oz AU
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: HBO owns Oz.
Summary: Beecher has a car accident, but it's Keller that he hits.
Beta: Suespur!

Every muscle in his body pulled tight when Toby hit the brakes. He strained, pushing down, eyes wide, and his mouth dropping open as he had one moment to pray that this wasn‛t happening. It was. The body slid up the hood of the car and for an instant he thought he saw blue eyes, and then hands slapped against the windshield.

Toby screamed. He didn‛t hear it, but his neck strained, and the seat belt grabbed him tight. Screeching tires, the breaking sound of metal, and he slammed back into the seat. No air bag. Fast. He had to get out fast, but nothing in his brain was working.

"The fuck you doing, running over me!" A long arm reached in and slapped him. Toby tried to shut his mouth. He could see blood. Blood. Hands. Oh God.

"Christ, you smell like a damn bar!" Hands fumbled at Toby‛s waist and he gasped in shock when he was jerked out of the car.

Trying to stand, he held on tight to him. "We gotta call the police." He blinked.

"Yeah, fuck that!" The man dragged him to the front of the car. "You trashed my bike!"

Toby swayed, seeing nothing but mashed bits and blood. The hands loosened, he dropped to his knees and puked.

"Ah, fuck!"

Strong hands ripped him up. If his feet were flat on the ground, he didn‛t know it. "Please."

"Please? I‛m the one bleeding here!"

Toby could see it and his guts tightened again. "Police?"

The guy looked up and down the street. "Too nice a fucking neighborhood. Someone is calling the cops." He slapped Toby across the face, and it hurt! Toby tried to stand straight. He opened his mouth to say something, and he found himself being thrown in the back seat of his car. Curling up and crying was all he could think of, but he had to do the right thing. He fumbled for his phone, and it was ripped away.

"Don‛t push your luck!"

Toby sat up, clutching his chest. "Who the hell are you?"

"The guy you just ran over!"

The car was moving fast now, and he hoped he didn‛t barf in the back seat. His head was spinning, and he was breathing hard. He‛d nearly killed a man while driving drunk. It would‛ve been prison time. His life would‛ve been over. Instead, he was being carjacked.

"I‛ve just gone from the fire to the frying pan." Toby ripped off his glasses, clutched them tight, shocked when they snapped in half. He had to think, but he could almost feel his brain sloshing.

"Stupid drunk."

Toby tried to glare at the dark-haired man, but his eyes felt wobbly. "Where are you taking me?" Some fear was sinking in now. "And what about your motorcycle?"

The guy looked back at him. "I need to clean up. So shut up and sleep it off."

"But." Toby knew he had to say something. "It‛s my car."

"And you destroyed my ride. You owe me. One call to the cops and you‛d be DUI for sure. You don‛t want that, do you?" The voice was almost rich with irony.

Toby put his hands on his eyes. His father would kill him. Genevieve would be so disappointed. Again. He took a deep breath and his hands shook. "You gonna hurt me?"

"Damn, when you pout, you‛re pretty." The guy laughed and turned a corner fast. Toby nearly fell over. He put his hands over his mouth and swallowed hard. It seemed like forever before the car stopped. He shrank away when the back door opened, but there was no fighting the strength that pulled him out. Staggering, he couldn‛t fight the fist that propelled him through a doorway into a crappy motel room.

"Lay down, asshole."

Toby fell on the bed from the push, and he couldn‛t help but curl up. The room spun around him, and even though he could hear water splashing, there was no way he could make a run for it. Fear was something he lived with daily, but this was a huge wad that he couldn‛t wash away with martinis.

"You piss on my bed, and I‛ll kick your ass."

"Can I go now?"

There was a long moment of silence. "We‛ll talk when you‛re sober."

Toby really didn‛t like the sound of that. The stress and fear and alcohol suddenly overwhelmed him, and he was out.


Chris carefully pressed the towel against his knee. It was split open, but stitches weren‛t an option. They‛d ask too many questions. He‛d just have to be careful. Stupid drunk fucker had crushed a perfectly good Harley. Sure it hadn‛t been his, but it had been a damn nice bike. He poured himself two fingers of whiskey, tossed it back, and stared at him. The guy was soft - a baby. He‛d probably cry. Chris sighed in disgust, peeled the towel off, and groaned. That was going to hurt in the morning. He yanked the hole in the knee wider. Drunken fuck owed him a bike and a pair of jeans, and this wasn‛t over until he got both.


Toby staggered up, hit the wall, and fell down. "Where the fuck am I?"

Laughter answered him. He got up, leaned against cheap-ass paneling, and stared. "It wasn‛t a dream."

"Ah, no." The guy grinned. "Want a drink?" He brandished a bottle of cheap stuff.

Toby bolted to the bathroom and threw up. He sagged against the dirty floor, praying that somehow he could go back in time and start this day over, but nothing happened. Using the toilet, he got up and took one step to wash his face. Damn place was a shit hole, but there was water. He couldn‛t bring himself to touch the towel that hung by the filthy tub.

"Gonna live?"

Toby straightened his back. It was time to be a lawyer. "Who are you? I‛m calling the police."

"Chris Keller, and no, ya ain‛t." Keller shook his head. "You owe me, you piece of shit lawyer."

Toby felt for his wallet, but it was gone. "We should have called the police! I don‛t owe you shit!"

Keller grabbed him by the collar and put him hard against the wall. "You owe me." Each word was separate and their faces were far too close. Toby swallowed hard and tried to think of a rational explanation, a way to weasel out of this, something. Keller‛s lips brushed along Toby‛s jaw. "You."

"Fine. Keep the car. Keep my damn wallet, but let me go! I have kids!" Toby put his hands on Keller‛s shoulders, but he wouldn‛t push. The guy might have a knife.

"Really? That‛s nice. I always wanted a couple." Keller eased back, but not much. He straightened Toby‛s suit for him. "No reason to fight about this. You were drunk. I gave you hand after you nearly killed me."

The guilt was easy. So easy. He clasped his hands together. "You okay?"

"No! My fucking leg is killing me!"

Toby nearly fell down. He didn‛t know if it was the blatant anger or the surge of shame. "I‛m sorry. Let me take you to a hospital. I‛ll pay."

Keller narrowed his eyes. "Fuckers like you talk it, but they never walk it. I‛m sure a six hour wait in an emergency room would be too much for you."

Toby frowned. "Please. Keep my wallet. But let‛s have your leg looked at. This place is filthy."

"Ain‛t the Ritz." Keller limped out of the bathroom. "You sober enough to drive?"

"Yes." Toby wanted to grab for the keys, take back a measure of control in this crazy situation, but fear kept him from doing it. Keller was obviously not someone to fuck around with. He gave Toby a hard look and then tossed him the keys.

"You drive. You want to run off, fine, but I know where you live and what your kids look like."

Toby‛s mouth went completely dry. He couldn‛t even breathe. "I‛ll do what you want."

Keller didn‛t look convinced. He slung on a leather jacket and limped to the door.

Toby followed him out to the car, looking back at the roach motel. "Place really sucks."

"Not everyone is a rich-ass lawyer." Keller slammed the door. "Fuck!"

Toby went with another round of guilt. "Sorry." He hoped he knew where they were. Heading for the highway, he drove quickly but carefully. "Sorry about your motorcycle."

"Yeah," Keller groaned out the word. "Watch the road!"

Toby jerked his eyes back to the road and flushed. He could feel a trace of grogginess still in his veins. Some food would help. He‛d eat at the hospital. "You did bring my wallet, right?"

Keller groaned and put his arm over his eyes. "Shut up!"

"I can do that." Toby hoped he could. He usually talked too much - said the wrong things - when he was nervous. "I should call my wife."

"It ain‛t that late, and you‛re a lawyer. I‛m sure you work all the fucking time." Keller sounded exasperated. "This was a bad idea."

Toby didn‛t want to know what that meant, but he didn‛t think he got to go home now. He drove faster, parking in the Emergency lot and trying his best to help Keller out of the car. Keller cursed and came close to hitting him, but Toby wrapped Keller‛s arm around his shoulders and helped him through the doors.

"Where is everybody?"

"Come here often?" Toby asked softly. He‛d brought Keller to their local hospital. A nurse came to help, and Toby started lying, "He hurt himself doing some landscaping for me."

She nodded. "At least you got most of the bleeding stopped. We‛ll start the paperwork."

Keller frowned. "I don‛t have to wait?"

"You‛ll wait." The nurse smiled. "But it‛s a slow night, so we‛ll get you right in."

Toby didn‛t turn him loose until he slid up on the gurney. "Give a fake name, if you want. I‛m paying cash."

"Landscaping?" Keller seemed to really look at him. "I like a guy who can lie."

"Why doesn‛t that surprise me?" Toby sighed heavily and sat down in a plastic chair. His wallet flew through the air and landed in his lap.

The nurse was suddenly back, and there was a shitload of paperwork that made Toby‛s eyes want to cross. He needed food. Keller lied his ass off, but he did it so well, and the nurse obviously thought he was handsome. Toby finally looked him over. Muscles, dark hair, strong features, and plenty of attitude: it was a dangerous package. Toby could only hope he got out of this situation alive and with part of his bank account intact.

"I‛m going to go get some food. You want something?" Toby smiled his very best.

"Right." Keller snorted. He caught the arm of the nurse. "I work for him, and he‛s going to give me the slip."

The nurse had the gall to glare at Toby. "You wouldn‛t run out on him, would you?"

"I‛ll be right back." Toby groaned at Keller‛s slippery grin. As soon as he was out of sight, he almost ran for his car. Almost. He found a restroom, pissed, and washed his hands. Smoothing his hair down, he stared at himself in the mirror. His glasses and cell phone were gone somewhere, and he looked confused. Hell, he was fucked. Fucked up. He‛d nearly killed that guy, and Keller was the type that would milk it for all it was worth.

Toby sighed and got moving towards the cafeteria. "I‛m screwed."


Chris didn‛t expect to see him again tonight, but that was okay. The hospital would send him the bill, and Chris would show up on his doorstep before the week was out. Maybe Toby‛s wife was pretty, and horny, and drunk like her husband. Anything was possible. Toby had fucked up, and he was going to pay, and then pay some more. That was how the world worked.


Toby stood in the cafeteria, dithering. There was a pay phone. He had his keys. Keller was hurt and probably hungry. The guy lived in a dump of a hotel room. Toby had almost killed him. He was hurt. Toby needed a drink. A big one. He slumped down at a table, put his head in his hands, and tried to make his brain work.

"Can I help you?"

Toby looked up, anger pouring through him. The nun took a small step backwards and shame took over. He rubbed his mouth. "No. Thank you. I‛m fine."

She didn‛t look convinced. "Is someone you love sick?"

The irony of that question wasn‛t lost on him. "No. There was a car accident, but we‛re fine. It was close, but we‛re fine." Saying it twice didn‛t make it real.

"Perhaps God was giving you a second chance." She patted him on the arm. "Would you like to pray  together?"

"No, but thanks. I have to get some food." Toby had never prayed. It had always seemed like a waste of time. She smiled as if she knew something he didn‛t and left without protesting. He rubbed his face and made up his mind. He‛d take Keller some food. Maybe if he sucked up to the guy, bought him a new bike, he‛d ride away. It was possible.

Keller looked surprised when Toby handed him a bag of food and a soda. "Thought you beat it out of here."

"I was worried about you," Toby lied easily. "And I bet you‛re hungry."

Keller‛s eyes narrowed. "Don‛t try to run a game on me. I was a player before you were out of diapers."

Toby could well believe that even though they were about the same age. He‛d have to play this more subtly. "You started young. Eat. Doctor been here yet?"

"Hell no." Keller ate quickly and didn‛t thank him. Toby sat back down in the plastic chair and reviewed his options. He didn‛t have all that many and those martinis after lunch might cost him dearly. Licking his lips, he wished for a drink. Keller laughed. "Need something?"

"Just thirsty." Toby got up and stretched, trying desperately to act nonchalant. He was in control now. He was sober, and drinking wasn‛t possible, not until he got home. Keller made a rude noise that showed off his lack of intellect, but he wasn‛t fooled. Toby ignored it. Finally, after a lifetime or two, the doctor and a nurse showed up.

"Nasty, but we‛ll get you put back together again. We‛re going to have to immobilize the leg so you don‛t pop it right back open." The doctor glanced at Toby. "Will you be able to help him out for a couple of days?"

Toby didn‛t think so. "Of course." Another lie and he thought Keller knew it.

"Good. You can go to the waiting room." The doctor smiled. "He‛ll be fine."

"Thanks," Toby muttered and got the hell out of there. He didn‛t even glance at Keller. Keller could handle it. He was tough. Toby slumped into a chair and asked himself again why he wasn‛t running, but the answer was easy. Keller knew where Toby lived. Running away, which was his normal style, would only give Keller control of the situation. He might show up when Toby was at work and God only knew what he‛d do. Genevieve. Toby had to protect her and his kids, and that meant playing along and then making sure Keller had no incentive to come around again. It was going to be like walking a tightrope. He groaned softly. Damn the booze. Damn it!

Toby nearly walked out three times. It was the fear that kept his ass in the room. He did indulge in pacing and cursing under his breath, but he‛d have to deal with this damn mess. Calling his father would not solve it. In fact, it‛d make it worse.

"Hey, buddy, don‛t worry. I‛m fine!" Keller mocked him with a huge grin. The nurse smiled at him.

"Here‛s the paperwork." She handed it to Toby. "Take him to his regular physician if there are any problems."

Toby couldn‛t see that happening. "Send me all the bills."

"We will." She was firm about that. "And you take it easy."

Keller put his hand on Toby‛s shoulder and leaned into it. Toby hoped his disgust didn‛t show on his face, but he couldn‛t control the flinch.

"Let‛s go. I‛m sure you want to start taking care of me." Keller needed a black eye. He did. Toby swallowed down his rage - he was good at that - and helped him back to the car. He waited until they were both buckled.

"I‛ll drop you off at your motel. I have to get home." Toby tried to sound like he meant it. He did. This was over. "Come by in a few days and I‛ll write you a check for the motorcycle."

"You think a check is getting you out of this?" Keller laughed. "I can‛t go to work like this. No money. No motel. Hell, I don‛t even have a way to get to work! You took care of that. You did the crime, asshole, now you have to do the time."

"Words to live by." Toby glared at him. "Where the fuck is my cell phone?"

Keller smiled. He had it - the prick. "You mean, my cell phone, right?"

Toby bit his lower lip. "I‛ll cancel it later," he muttered.

Keller caught him around the neck and jerked him close. Toby gasped as Keller whispered in Toby‛s ear, "Don‛t make me hurt you, Toby."

"I‛m not scared of you." Toby didn‛t know what to do with his hands. Keller chuckled and delicately licked Toby‛s ear. Toby couldn‛t get away, and he was afraid that he‛d whimpered like a lost puppy.

"Fear is the least of it." Keller‛s other hand wrapped around Toby‛s arm. "Take me home. I want to meet your wife. Is she as pretty as you are?‛

"No!" Toby fought now. He did, but Keller was stronger. Panting and sobbing, he quit, and Keller pulled him closer. "Please, no."

Keller smoothed his hand across Toby‛s face. "Drop me at the nearest bus stop."

Toby gasped in relief. "You mean that?" he blurted. Hope chased some of the fear away.

"Sure." Keller slowly turned him loose with only a small push. "I‛ll call you in a couple of days and we‛ll meet so you can write me a big check - a big one."

"That‛ll be fine." Toby started the car. He would do this. He would. Money would fix this - there was nothing to be scared of any longer. He glanced over at him. Smug. The bastard was smug. Toby didn‛t put it in drive. "You‛re lying."

"Nope." Keller was grinning now. "Hey, is your wife a drunk like you? Ah, never mind. I‛ll find out soon enough."

Toby clutched the steering wheel. "I‛m fucked."

"Well, yeah." Keller laughed loudly. "Yer a lawyer. Find the loophole."

Toby put his head against the steering wheel. "I‛m not taking you there. Find another solution that bends me over."

"Fancy hotel is good. King-sized bed and make sure there‛s a one of those cute little fridges stocked with the good stuff."

Toby couldn‛t even look at him. "And then I can go home?"

"Don‛t see why not." Keller stroked his hand down Toby‛s leg. "Of course, it‛d be safer to make sure I‛m on my way out of town on a Harley first."

"Bastard." Toby threw the car in gear and drove to the Marriott. He had an account there. "I have to call my wife."

Keller nodded. "You can borrow my phone when we get there. Anyone ever tell you that you‛re a sucky driver? How many other people have you killed, Toby?"

"One too few." Toby hated the sound of Keller‛s laughter. He snarled, "And my name is Tobias."

"Yeah, fuck that."

Toby concentrated on driving, keeping them on the road instead of giving in to the urge to slam into something that could kill them both. "I‛m not calling you Chris."

"Most people don‛t." Keller shrugged. "Keep it polite or I‛ll beat the shit out of you."

"Figured you‛d do that anyway," Toby mumbled. He pulled up to the main door. "I look like shit. We‛ll be lucky if they let us in."

"Charm ‛em." Keller grabbed him by the arm. "This‛ll be fun."

Toby jerked away and got out. He tossed his keys to the valet and went around to help his carjacker. Keller leaned against him shamelessly, mirth dancing in those cold, blue eyes. The management seemed somewhere between appalled and eager to get them out of the lobby. Luckily, money talked and they‛d been enjoying his business for years.

Keller managed to schedule a massage for the next day, and it was years before the door finally shut and Toby could shove him away.

"Hey! I‛m hurt, you asshole!" Keller caught himself on the side of the wall. He straightened up and leveled a glare that Toby that was scary at best - pyschotic at worst.

Toby tried to do damage control fast. "I‛m sorry. You pissed me off!"

"So run me down with your car!" Keller tugged off his ripped leather coat and handed Toby the phone. Toby took it and another big mouthful of guilt. He rubbed his forehead, refusing to give in to it. Snapping open the phone, he punched the buttons.

"Tobias! I‛ve been worried sick!"

Toby turned to face the door, trying for some privacy. "I‛m sorry, dear. I ran into a huge problem on the way home. I‛m going to have to travel out of town to deal with it."

"Damn, you‛re good." Keller needed to shut up.

"Are you okay?" Genevieve wasn‛t a complete idiot. "Can you at least come home and kiss the kids goodnight?"

Toby had to do it. "I‛ll be there soon. Can you pack four days for me?" He didn‛t deserve her. She was ten times the person he was.

"I will. Thanks for calling. Soon?"

"Yes, and put in some casual clothes. Love you." Toby shut the phone and turned. "I am going home."

"Kiss yer wife for me." Keller grinned. He‛d already raided the mini-fridge. "I could use a clean shirt."

Toby squeezed his phone tight. "Three days."

"Maybe four." Keller shrugged. "Give me the phone."

Toby wasn‛t going to do it. He wasn‛t. Keller took a step. Toby handed it to him quickly. The asshole grinned.

"You can get your spare. I know you have one."

"Fuck you."

Now Keller let loose with a big smile. "Hurry back."

Toby didn‛t dignify that with an answer, but he‛d be back, and Keller knew it. It was too damn bad that there was no way to make quality hotel doors slam, but he did his best.


Chris eased back on the bed, pulling his leg up and biting his lip to keep from shouting. They‛d given him a prescription for pain med, but if he wanted it, he‛d have to bully Toby into getting it for him, and Toby was right on the edge of breaking. It was time to be nice to him - work the guilt - and make sure he stuck around. He was no dummy. Sooner or later, he‛d run off, hire some security, and make sure his family couldn‛t be touched, but right now, he was weak, vulnerable, and Chris intended to exploit it. It was the booze. It made him stupid. Getting him drunk and maybe sliding him out of that suit would be fun.


Lingering over the hugs and kisses of his children didn‛t make the painful reality of where he was going any easier. His wife had that look on her face. He was sure she‛d smelled the vomit and liquor on his clothes, and he‛d been careful to shower before seeing his children.

"Toby, please tell me what‛s going on."

She was pleading. Her eyes round and large and her mouth set in perpetual disappointment. Toby grabbed some shorts and T-shirts and stuffed them in the bag. Keller wasn‛t going anywhere. He could wear shorts. Toby finally managed to meet her eyes.

"If I don‛t do this, our life here is over. Over." He emphasized each word. "Yes, I screwed up, and I have to fix it. Three days, maybe four, and I‛ll be home, and we‛ll go on."

"Will we?" She didn‛t look convinced.

"Yes!" Toby had to believe it. He hurried to his dresser and found his spare phone. It was dead so he grabbed the charger. "Call me at this number but only in an emergency. Promise me."

She slowly nodded. "I won‛t call. And your father? The firm?"

"I‛ll call and take the days. I have no choice. None." Toby wasn‛t going to tell his father. Not ever. He made sure he had plenty of money and impulsively went to the bathroom for an extra toothbrush. Keller had nothing. It would‛ve been easy to feel sorry for the poor bastard if he hadn‛t been such a bastard. Toby took a deep breath and did an inventory. He had enough, and he could go shopping if he had to, if Keller let him.

"Just hold me, okay?" he asked his wife softly as he turned to her. She pulled him into an embrace, and he did his best not to cry. Fucked up did not begin to describe this, and as usual, he‛d done it to himself. She pulled back and looked him in the eye.

"When you get home, we‛ll deal with this."

Toby made no promises. If he got home, he‛d do his best to forget it, maybe in a bottle of vodka. He smiled - or he tried - and kissed her. "Bye."

"Be safe."

He didn‛t look back. If he did, he‛d cry, and now wasn‛t the time for that. Right now, he had to be tough, which wasn‛t something he was good at, but he had to fight Keller. Keep him off-balance and get out of this with only a dent in his bank account. That he could stand. He took a moment to stare at the front of his car before getting inside. It wasn‛t bad, but it wasn‛t good. Something else to fix. He threw his bag in the back seat and got in fast. There wasn‛t a choice. Keller had him by the balls.

The trip back to the hotel didn‛t take near long enough, and Toby had to force his legs down the hallway. He stripped the card through the lock and pushed the door open.

"Hey! Glad you‛re back!"

Toby could only stare. Not only did Keller sound sincere, but there was a lot of food on the bed, and beer. Keller was grinning. Toby tossed the bag and tried to sound casual.

"Hungry, huh?"

"Hell, yeah. That cheeseburger didn‛t go far." Keller waved at the bed. "Come on. Dig in. The nachos are great."

Toby had to swallow some vomit that suddenly appeared in his mouth. He was not going to pretend that he was at a convention with a buddy of his and later they‛d go watch pole dancers. "No. But thanks." He cautiously sat down in a chair as far away as possible. He‛d sleep here.

"Damn, you‛re uptight." Keller went back to eating and then took a long drink from his beer. "At least have a beer. After all, you bought."

"Asshole," Toby hissed. His hand had a beer in it before he could argue about it. He twisted the top savagely and drank half of it before coming up for air.

Keller‛s eyes twinkled. "Damn. You‛re good at that, but I bet I can beat you to the bottom of the bottle."

Toby doubted it. He‛d honed his skill in a frat house, and he‛d be surprised if Keller had graduated high school. "No one can drink faster than me." He sat back with a small thump. The TV was laughing about something, but he didn‛t look at it. Another long drink and he was relaxing a little. This wouldn‛t be too bad, right?

"You ever just wear jeans and a T-shirt?" Keller was staring at him very intently. "You still look like a prick lawyer."

"It‛s what I am." Toby finished his beer and put it aside. "What are you?"

Keller‛s eyes narrowed. "Little of this, some of that." He didn‛t seem to like the question.

Toby laughed at him. "Aren‛t you a little old to own nothing but a pair of jeans? Where‛s the job? The family?"

"She divorced me," Keller spat out the words. "And the one thing I did own, you ran over!"

"I‛ll buy you a better one," Toby promised. He was well aware that if this case had gone to court, he might have been disbarred, done a short stint behind bars, and been sued for most of his worth. His life would have been effectively ruined. He met Keller‛s dark blue eyes and saw a glimmer of something mean in them. Keller knew all that. He was no dummy. Toby would have to give him everything he wanted. Toby took another beer without asking.

Keller popped open a new one. "Race?"

Toby laughed almost against his will. He twisted it open. "Go!" He didn‛t bother to watch Keller drink. When it was empty, he pulled it down, and belched. Keller was about two seconds behind him.

"Damn!" Keller laughed. "Never seen anyone with throat action like that!"

"A skill I take great pride in." Toby wasn‛t sure he wanted to know that Keller had been staring at him. He suddenly threw caution to the wind. "The nachos are good?"

Keller nudged the tray closer. "Very." His eyes were bright and his smile was big. "I don‛t bite."

Toby doubted that. Keller would do anything. He was that kind of man. Toby sat gingerly on the big bed and ate a little, but he kept a watch on Keller‛s hands. Being on the end of Keller‛s fists was not something Toby wanted to do. Keller seemed oblivious. He ate, drank beer, and laughed at the television - perfectly happy.

"You do this often? You seem to be having a good time." Toby watched him carefully.

Keller‛s smile faded away. "I learned a long time ago to take what I could get and enjoy it because it‛ll be gone damn soon."

Toby frowned, wishing he didn‛t understand that feeling. "I learned not to give a damn because it didn‛t mean anything anyway."

"Difference between me and you." Keller‛s voice was soft, but laced with steel. "I want to enjoy myself. You‛ll wallow in self-pity until you die and everyone will breathe a sigh of relief and say, ‛he‛s gone to a better place.‛ And it‛ll be true."

"Oh, fuck you," Toby snarled, unable to deny all that and aching from the truth of it. "You don‛t know shit about me."

Keller laughed again. "It‛s all over your face. I bet you don‛t win in the courtroom very often."

"I‛m not that kind of lawyer." Toby narrowed his eyes, angrier than he‛d been in years. Usually he felt washed out - just dead inside. The only bright moments in his day were his children, and he lived in fear that he was fucking them up. He struck back hard. "So, your mother was a whore and your dad could have been one of ten men?"

That smile fell off Keller‛s face fast and the laugh was gone instantly. Toby nearly shrank back, and he did drop his nacho as Keller‛s eyes narrowed. Keller looked homicidal. Toby didn‛t know whether to run or piss his pants.

"Sorry," he whispered. "I didn‛t mean it." He had, but he was a liar at heart.

Keller moved as fast as a striking snake - his hand wrapping around Toby‛s wrist. "You‛re a fucking liar as well as a drunken coward and shithead. You know, I think I‛d rather have nothing than be you."

Toby heard the words and they lashed at him, but the hand that was grinding the bones of his wrist was making him want to cry out. "I‛d rather be you too." The truth that he blurted out made shame crawl up his spine. He tried to wrench his arm away, but it was useless. "Please let go."

"Tell you what - I‛ll go home to your pretty wife and you can have my jeans." Keller didn‛t smile, but he turned him loose. "Fucking whiner."

"That‛s me," Toby managed to croak, rubbing his wrist. He moved fast back to his chair, but he took his beer. He‛d need it and maybe another one or two. His breath shuddered in and out and suddenly he was ashamed of his clothes and cleanliness. Keller was sitting in bloody jeans and hadn‛t showered since Toby had run him down.

Toby slammed his beer back for courage. "Why don‛t you let me help you shower and change clothes? You‛ve got to feel scummy."

"I can feel asphalt in my shorts." Keller frowned at him. "Don‛t pretend you give a shit. It‛s all about you - twenty four seven."

"Well, yeah, but I didn‛t mean to run you down. I want to help." Toby stretched the truth as far as he could, trying to look earnest. "Did the doc say anything about getting it wet?"

"He said not to." Keller looked very suspicious. "I ain‛t taking no damn sponge bath."

Toby tried to laugh, hoping he succeeded. "Saran Wrap will work." He got up and scooped up all the stuff that had been on the food. "Gary broke his arm. We wrapped it every time he bathed." He couldn‛t help but smile a little. His son was a pistol and so much not his father, which was a blessing.

"You gonna shove me down?" Keller sounded suspicious. "Drown my ass?"

"I should, but no." Toby didn‛t even have the guts to glare at him. There was a long moment where Keller looked uncertain, and then he nodded brusquely. Toby would help and then hopefully, the asshole would fall asleep until morning. With that thought uppermost, he went to turn on the water.


Chris slowly unstrapped the brace that kept his leg straight, taking time out for another sip of beer and one more nacho chip. He was filthy, and while he was poor, he was never dirty. His mother, not a whore, had taught him that. Anger poured through him again, but he shoved it to a safe distance. Toby was going to be an easy nut to crack. He was full of guilt and a whiny baby. Chris eased off his shirt, throwing it in the corner. He would wrap Toby around his little finger before sundown tomorrow. Easy.


Toby gasped when he saw his handiwork all over Keller‛s chest. "Motherfuck!"

"Yeah, you‛d think I was hit by a car or something!" Keller leaned back flat on the bed. "Pull the jeans off, will ya?"

Toby grabbed the cuffs and yanked, averting his eyes.

"You fucker!"

Toby looked and cringed. "Sorry." This time he was. He wiped his hand through his hair. "You just scare me, okay?"

Keller snorted. "I‛m the one that can‛t fight you off. Help me up. Please."

Toby was shocked at the polite request, but it was hard to touch a naked man. He reached, trying desperately not to look. "You probably hurt all over."

"Probably." Keller had a corner on the sarcasm market. He leaned heavily on him, practically dragging his leg. "Shit. It hurts!"

"They didn‛t give you any pain medication?" Toby asked breathlessly, feeling as if someone was pressing the air from his lungs.

Keller gasped several times and didn‛t answer until they were in the bathroom. "Yeah, but I knew you wouldn‛t want to get it."

Toby couldn‛t deny that, but now he felt guilty. Guiltier. It was a familiar feeling, but Keller hadn‛t even asked. The guy had assumed that Toby didn‛t give a damn. Toby didn‛t, and he hated that it showed on his face. He wrapped the bruised and bandaged knee carefully in the Saran Wrap, refusing to look at Keller‛s package.

"Okay, get in. I‛ll stay right here, in case you have trouble." Toby hoped he sounded normal. He felt as if someone had been kicking the shit out of him, but Keller was the one covered with bruises and cuts. "I think you‛re lucky I didn‛t kill you."

"I‛m never lucky." Keller gave a grunt. "Can you soap my back? Without killing me?"

Toby couldn‛t even draw a deep breath. He opened the curtain, checked the knee, and took the soap. "You big baby."

Keller stood on one leg, bracing his hands against the tiles. Toby didn‛t look. He soaped, keeping his hands up high. The soap could drizzle down. Down. Oh fuck. He‛d looked. More guilt cruised through his veins. He was more gentle. The instant he was through, he shut the curtain and found a towel to wipe himself off.

"They have bathrobes in this fancy place?"

Toby knew they did. "No."

"I didn‛t think I could like you any less, but turns out, I can." Keller shut off the water and threw the curtain back. Toby looked at his shoes and held out a towel. It was snatched away. He looked up quickly, bit his lower lip, and went to call Room Service. A bathrobe was a very good idea. Cover up all that skin - fast. That done, he rummaged through his bag, set his phone to charging, and took Keller some boxers. It was immediately apparent that he would have to help him put them on and he gave out a soft groan of despair.

"Dry my back?"

Toby patted it dry. "You sure nothing is broken?"

"Doctor said no." Keller found another towel and scrubbed at his hair. It stood almost straight up, but there wasn‛t much of it so it looked pretty stupid. For some reason that made Toby feel better. A soft knock at the door and he got Keller his bathrobe. Keller slid into it as if it were his due.

"Here‛s some boxers," Toby said lamely.

"Yeah, like I can put those on. Moron." Keller tied the robe. "I should‛ve grabbed my toothbrush."

Toby went back to his bag and brought his things in the bathroom. "I brought you one."

"Really?" Keller smiled. "Thanks. Maybe you ain‛t so fucking bad."

"I suck. Keep that in mind." Toby knelt down and removed the Saran Wrap. The bandage was dry, and he would not look up at Keller‛s face. "It‛s okay. I‛ll get your brace."

Keller might have smirked or nodded. Toby didn‛t know because he didn‛t look. He got the brace off the bed and put it on him. Quickly. But Keller put his hand on Toby‛s shoulder anyway. Toby shoved the hand away. He sure as shit didn‛t need that or want it or like it.

"You haven‛t sucked yet," Keller taunted him.

Toby walked out, going back to his chair and a slightly warm beer. He drank it all and slumped back. The ceiling stared back at him, laughing at him. Three or four days of this? He‛d have to get drunk and stay that way.

"I know an all night pharmacy. I‛ll go fill thate prescription for you." Toby had a friend. It wouldn‛t be a problem, and he had to get out of here.  "Okay?"

Keller hobbled out and leaned against the wall. "It‛s in my jeans. Hey, can you get me some condoms?"

Toby nearly threw up. "Sure," he whispered raggedly and fled the room after grabbing the wadded up prescription. He practically ran to the stairs. It wasn‛t his finest moment.


Chris grinned after him. This was going good. Toby had already been on his knees. A push and he‛d be asking for it. He was gay. Chris knew a gay lawyer when he saw one. That wife didn‛t make a damn bit of difference. She was probably sick of it. Toby hadn‛t even been able to look at him, but his hands had been gentle. Chris groaned softly and made his way to the bed. Carefully, he lay back against the headboard. Arranging his robe so he was covered, he laughed. This wasn‛t going to take long, and it was going to be sweet.


Toby didn‛t rush. He had to sweet talk his friend into filling the prescription and it took a little longer than usual, which was fine.

"This is a pretty strong painkiller. Don‛t mix alcohol with it."

Toby promised, nodded, and said all the right things so he could go. His friend looked convinced. That was all that mattered. Toby smiled grimly. He might pass the message on. He might not. If Keller died of an overdose, that would not be Toby‛s fault. Shame suddenly burst through him. He was going to kill a man over the price of a Harley? That done, he sought out the condoms. His hand trembled as a picked out one he remembered buying when he was in college. Why did Keller want them? Toby‛s ass clenched and he nearly put them back.

"Need some help?"

"God no." Toby snatched them, paid, and ran out into the fresh air. He took several gulps of air, trying to find his brains. Giving up, he got in the car and peeled out of the parking lot. He had to get a grip. Play it cool. Not give a damn. He was going to need alcohol. Beer wasn‛t going to cut it. He whipped into a liquor store and bought a bottle of Jack Daniels - his mind obliterator of choice. Feeling much better about life, he went back to the hotel and forced himself to go in the room. His prayer that Keller had fallen asleep had gone unanswered of course.

Keller immediately looked at him. "Brown bag?"

Toby was glad the robe was shut. He tossed Keller the pills. "The pharmacist said not to mix alcohol with the pain pills."

Keller tore it open and looked at the pills. "It‛s just Percocet. Not a problem."

"You sound like you know better than a guy that does it for a living." Toby retrieved a glass and poured himself two fingers. He slammed it back, refilled, and went to sit down, but he took the bottle.

"They always lie." Keller took one and washed it down with beer. Toby sipped his whiskey and made up his mind not to feel guilty about it. The TV was still on, and Keller kept giving him looks. Toby wasn‛t sure what it all meant. He nursed his drink and tried not to look at him. The robe. The robe had to go. Keller wouldn‛t quit fidgeting with it.

"I brought you some clothes." Toby didn‛t want to put them on him, but he had to do something. "I can help."

Keller didn‛t look worried about it, and that robe was covering less and less. Toby took a big drink and went to dig him out a shirt. He threw it at him. Keller caught it easily.

"Okay." Keller untied the robe, and Toby had to shut his eyes. It didn‛t help. The image was burned into his retinas. Keller didn‛t laugh, thank God. Toby had to find the shorts. Fast. He approached the bed as if it were full of hot coals.

Keller looked him in the eye. "Gonna help or stand there with a stupid look on your face all day?"

Toby helped, and his hands caught fire. His lungs also seemed hot and he hated that the inside of his mouth was dry. Keller put a hand on Toby‛s arm.

"Get the fuck off me! You a fag or something?" Toby got the hell back to his chair, fury pounding in his veins. He was mad, damn it.

Keller laughed softly. "I do what I have to."

Toby didn‛t like that answer. He emptied his glass and tried to glare at him. "Just shut up tonight."

"I thought all you fuck lawyers were politically correct." Keller was still laughing, sitting there in Toby‛s clothes. "Your boss know you got a filthy mouth?"

"Just fuck off." Toby poured himself another round. He was shaking, and he hated himself, and he hated Keller for doing this to him.

Keller‛s voice was soft now. "I think I‛ve changed my mind. I‛ll keep the jeans. You suck."

"Told ya." Toby began to feel the effects of the whiskey. He hadn‛t eaten enough, and he should stop. He should. He took another drink. Guilt, so familiar, was all he seemed to have lately. "I‛m sorry, but you need to keep your hands to yourself."

"I was trying to be nice. Fuck that." Keller started flipping through the channels. At least he was being quiet. Toby put the lid back on the bottle and slid it a little further away. That was all. He couldn‛t afford to get drunk. Keller might hump him. Toby chewed his lower lip.

"Hey, where‛re the condoms?"

Toby put his face in his hands for two seconds. He got up to get them out of his coat and threw them at him. Keller caught them and put them in the drawer by the side of the bed. Toby took a tiny sip of his last drink. He‛d make it last.

The sounds on the TV finally broke their way through all the whiskey. He frowned, looked, and nearly cried out from frustration. It was porn. The fucker had bought a porno movie. Keller smiled and stuck his hand in his shorts. Toby swallowed hard.

"I am not cleaning that shit up!" Toby jumped to his feet. "You can‛t do this to me!"

Keller licked his lower lip. "Shut up. I haven‛t seen this one."

Toby slammed his way into the bathroom. He‛d stay in here until morning.


Chris laughed and slowly jacked himself. Looking at Toby had helped, but the movie was fine. This was going pretty well. Toby was obviously still in denial, but he wouldn‛t last long. Chris cupped his balls. He could almost feel sorry for him. The lawyer was fucked up, getting drunk just to avoid having guy sex. Stupid. Why not relax and enjoy whatever came along? Chris grabbed a couple of napkins off the tray, pulled his cock free of the shorts, and went at it hard. Felt pretty good, but Toby‛s mouth would feel better. Yeah.


Toby raised his head from his hands and winced from the view provided by all the conveniently placed mirrors. He didn‛t need to see that. The whiskey roiled around in his stomach, and he breathed through his mouth. He couldn‛t hear what Keller was doing, but that didn‛t keep him from imagining it. Keller had a big dick. That was a certainty.

"I am not a woman!" Toby screwed his eyes shut and pressed his palms into them. "I‛m not gay," he whispered. He loved his wife, he did. They‛d wanted to get married. He took another shuddering breath. His kids - God he loved them.

"Can I piss?"

Toby practically flew off the toilet. He wanted to punch him, kick him, hurt him, but he wasn‛t that kind of man. "Just let me go. Please. I‛ll give you fifty grand. Please."

Keller braced himself against the cabinet. "Ever cheated on your wife?"

"No!" Toby was desperate to get passed him, but that would mean touching him. "Please."

"Go on home. Don‛t give a shit." Keller hobbled two steps, pulled it out, and started pissing. Toby squeezed by him and was immediately confronted by the porno movie. Two guys, one girl, and everyone was having fun. Flesh smacking, mouths agape, groans, and big dicks slamming. His cock grew hard, and he hated himself even more, which he hadn‛t thought was possible.

Keller was suddenly close, but not touching. "Sit and enjoy yourself. It‛s just porn."

Toby sat down hard on the bed, looking up at him. "I hate you."

"You‛re scared. Probably the first time you ever screwed up and had to pay the price yourself." Keller inched closer, but didn‛t block the TV. "Ever cheat on your wife?"

"Oh, God." Toby tried to look away from the woman giving head but couldn‛t manage it. He was sick. Perverted. His father would kill him. "Yes."

Keller slowly sat down next to him. Too close. Far too close, but all Toby could see was her mouth. He tried to move away. His body wouldn‛t do it. Keller‛s mouth was right at Toby‛s ear.

"Booze ain‛t gonna fix it. Anger ain‛t gonna make it go away." Keller‛s voice was rhythmic, soft, and full of dangerous things. "She know you like guys?"

Toby forced himself to look Keller in the eyes. "No one knows."

"Not even you, huh?" Keller traced his finger across Toby‛s jaw, and Toby flinched at the touch. He wouldn‛t do this, couldn‛t do this. Everyone in his business cheated on their wife, but he‛d only done it once. He‛d been drunk, of course. She had been supremely unimpressed, and he‛d vowed never to do it again. Too damn embarrassing.

"I like women." Toby did. A hard groan caught his attention and he looked at the screen again. They were fucking her hard now - both of them. She was crying out. It was porn. It was fake.

"So do I. Soft breasts, long legs, pretty hair." Keller‛s hand moved to Toby‛s zipper. "Let me help."

"No," Toby gasped, but it was too late, and he had no idea what to do with his hands. His head twirled from the booze. It was the booze, damn it, and he bit his lower lip, trying desperately to grab his things and run away. Far away. He failed, again. "Please."

"It‛s hard. I know." Keller‛s hand moved up and down the length of Toby‛s cock. "That chick likes it up the ass. You ever do that?"

"Oh, fuck, no." Toby managed to look at the hand on his dick. A hundred crazy images flashed through his mind and he knew he was lost. All the running, all the booze, all the pretending: it had led him here, and he was so tired of it all. "I nearly killed you."

"Yeah. It‛s okay. You ain‛t the first to try." Keller‛s lips were on his neck. Toby shuddered. Keller lifted Toby‛ face so he saw the screen again. "He‛s gonna come all over her back."

Toby cried out, but it wasn‛t pain that forced it from him. "I can‛t!"

"You should." Keller‛s mouth teased him. The big hand moved expertly up and down, forcing the pleasure on him. He didn‛t want this, but it was happening. It wasn‛t his fault. Keller whispered, "Stand up. I‛ll suck you."

Toby did as he was told, but he never took his eyes off the TV. He wasn‛t responsible. This was nothing. Warm, hot, slick engulfed him, and he thrust mindlessly into it.

"Oh, yeah, fuck my ass!"

"Not my fault," Toby whispered, coming so hard down Keller‛s throat. Keller had sucked it out of him. Toby nearly fell to his knees, but he hit the bed when his dick was turned loose. He curled up, astonished that there were tears on his face. Keller lay down next to him and wiped them away.

"I know I‛m good, but damn." Keller‛s hand traced over Toby‛s lips. "Kiss me."

Toby shook his head. He shut his eyes and refused to look at him. It hadn‛t happened. This wasn‛t real. He was drunk. Blacked out. Tomorrow, he‛d wake up in his own bed with a wife that never sucked his dick.

"It‛s okay, Toby," Keller said softly; his lips brushing Toby‛s cheek. "Go to sleep. I got your back."

Toby sniffed, toed off his shoes, and attempted to straighten his pants. Exhausted, he quit trying. He turned his back and willed himself to sleep. This was all a nightmare.


Chris watched him fall asleep. Toby would try to pretend it didn‛t happen, but Chris was going to remind him first thing in the morning. There wasn‛t any reason they couldn‛t be friends. Toby was a selfish asshole, but that didn‛t mean nothing. Chris took his time turning off the TV, the lights, and getting comfortable on the bed. Getting Toby down to his boxers took some creativity, but Chris was up to it. Toby crawled under the covers with only a grunt or two, and Chris waited until he was sure before going close and kissing him.

"You are so fucked up," Chris whispered. He smoothed his hand down Toby‛s body. "This is gonna be fun."


Toby couldn‛t remember the last time he‛d woken up to Genevieve‛s kisses, so this was nice. He kept his eyes closed and kissed her back, surprised and pleased when her tongue stabbed deep in his mouth. He groaned softly and lazily rubbed her back. Muscles. Stark shoulder blades. His eyes popped open.

"You bastard!" Toby hissed at that wide grin. "I thought you were my wife!"

"She fuck your mouth with her tongue?"

Toby was totally thrown by the question. "Uh, no." He blushed, realized he was in just his boxers, and started moving for the edge of the bed. "You did this to me!"

"And, you liked it." Keller yawned and gave a small stretch. "Can you make some coffee?"

"Fuck you!" Toby went to hide in the bathroom. He pissed, scrubbed his hands through his hair, and wished for whiskey. Instead, he made the coffee. Leaving, by God, he was leaving. Keller was fine. He could keep the damn phone.

"Room service!"

Toby groaned and found some pants before opening the door. "Sorry." She frowned at him, and he couldn‛t find the strength to care.

"Ah, dios mio." She crossed herself, and Toby saw why two seconds later.

"Put on some damn clothes!"

Keller grinned. "Need help. Please?"

Toby hated him. Hate. Hate. Leaning against the wall, stark naked, with a grin on his face. For one instant, Toby wanted to kill him.

"Did someone try to kill you?" the lady shrieked.

"Yeah, he did." Keller pointed and took a limping step. Toby got him to the bathroom before she called the cops.

"You need to shut your fat mouth!" Toby growled at him. "And where the fuck are your clothes?"

"I got hot!" Keller nuzzled him on the neck. "Used to sleeping alone."

"Jesus Fuck." Toby helped him sit down. "Your leg is swollen. I‛ll get some ice and clothes. When did you take your last pain pill?"

"Dunno." Keller just wouldn‛t stop touching him.

Toby pushed the grabby hands away. He wet a washcloth and threw it on Keller‛s flagpole. Keller yelped and glared as Toby beat it out the door. The maid‛s eyes were still huge.

"Don‛t go in there until he‛s dressed. He was hurt in a car accident. I‛m trying to give him a hand." Toby had to explain. She might call the cops. He rubbed his hand through his hair. "I need to get him an ice pack."

She moved quickly, snatched, and handed him a plastic bag. "It is a good thing you are doing. Helping."

"Uh, right." Toby blushed. He got the ice fast, grabbed Keller‛s clothes from the floor, and went back to him. "I don‛t want to see it."

"Damn, you‛re pissy in the morning. Good coffee though." Keller had a mug of it. Toby got him dressed again and slapped the ice pack down much harder than he should have. Stupid prick.

"Fuck!" Keller screeched. His fist instantly lashed out and caught Toby across the cheekbone. Toby sat down hard, grabbing his face. His head spun around twice. He‛d deserved that, but no one had ever had the guts to give him one.

"Sorry," he mumbled. He staggered up and out the door. The maid crossed herself again and muttered in Spanish. He snitched another plastic bag from her maid‛s cart and got himself an ice pack. She was helping Keller to the bed when he got back. She fussed over him, getting him coffee and an extra pillow and shooting the occasional glare at Toby.

"Thank you, Maria." Keller oozed sincerity. "That was my mother‛s name." He smiled so prettily at her. She was eating it up. Toby sat down heavily in his chair, put the ice pack on his face, and eyeballed the whiskey. It wasn‛t even lunch, but he needed a drink. Maria finally went to clean the bathroom, and Keller smirked at him.

"God, you‛re a liar."

"Like you." Keller popped a pain pill and drank some coffee. "Want one?"

"No." Toby wanted three, but it wasn‛t a good idea. He was stupid enough around this man. "Can I go home now?"

Keller rolled his eyes and flopped his head back. "Would you like to beat me up before you go? Throw me in a ditch? Oh! Run over me with your car!"

Toby was glad the ice pack kept him from blushing. "Shut up!"


"Asshole." Toby looked longingly at his bottle of Jack Daniels.

Keller groaned. "Hey, I have an idea. Why don‛t you get drunk again? That‛ll make it all better."

"Damn right it would," Toby growled. He wanted to throw his ice pack at Keller‛s head, but he put it down and went to get some coffee. He‛d add some whiskey, but he waited until Maria was gone with a final pamper for Keller and a dirty look for him. Keller gave him a cheesy smile. He loved the attention.

"Breakfast?" Keller asked. "Or are we drinking it?"

"You sound like my damn wife." Toby took a big drink of coffee. That was better.

Keller looked surprised. "Then she‛s about one week from divorcing your ass. You better call her and make nice."

It was Toby‛s turn to be surprised. "I . . . uh-"

"You want a divorce?" Keller frowned. "Rich guy like you, she‛d take to the cleaners."

Toby went to get his phone. He wasn‛t going to argue about it. "Call room service. Get some food."

"They don‛t open until three." Keller could obviously read. "Hey, don‛t worry. I‛ll crawl downstairs."

"I hate you." Toby didn‛t bother trying to slam the door this time.


Chris grinned after him. Damn, this was a sweet setup. Sure, he hurt like fucking hell, but that was life. The pain med would help and he‛d rarely had that. He sipped his coffee and adjusted his dick. That kiss. Wow. He was going to need more and getting them out of that pissy lawyer was the best game in town.


Toby took a very deep breath before stripping his card through the lock and prayed that Keller was still dressed. He‛d been gone an hour but it hadn‛t been long enough to forget the kiss they‛d shared. No, the kiss that Keller had stolen.

"What‛d she say?" Keller‛s eyes tracked him.

"That you‛re a con artist, milking me out of a fortune." Toby put the sack of food on the bed and got out of the way. He was not discussing his wife again. That way led to madness.

"McDonalds! Wow. I love their breakfast." Keller seemed honestly excited about a McMuffin. Toby wandered over to his cold cup of coffee and went to pour it out. He rinsed the cup, filled it again, and went back to his chair. The Jack Daniels grinned at him, but he didn‛t give in to temptation. Maybe tonight, but dealing with Keller required a clear head.

"How‛s the leg?" Toby really wanted to know. He had to get out of here, and the faster he could get this guy on a bike, the better.

"Hurts like fucking hell, thanks for asking." Keller‛s mouth was full. "You eat?"

Toby was never sure if Keller asked because he cared or because it meant more for him, probably the latter. "Yes." He hadn‛t. "What did you do while I was gone?"

"Ate a candy bar, watched the boob tube, and wished you were here to kiss me all better." Keller‛s fat mouth was grinning again. "Did you miss me?"

"No." Toby sipped his coffee and leaned all the way back so he could open the blinds and let some light in the room. He would not think about kissing. "You should walk today. Get it moving."

Keller swallowed before he answered. "Okay. Can I lean on you?"

Toby didn‛t want that. He didn‛t, but he slowly nodded. "I might push you down."

"And I might use my fist on the other side of your face," Keller growled right back at him. "You want to quit this, go the fuck home and take your chances."

Toby clasped his hands together and leaned forward slightly. He‛d given this plenty of thought over the last hour. "Would you hurt my children?"

Keller‛s eyes went cold, flat and dangerous. "I ain‛t never hurt no kid."

"Unless you count taking my money, which might have gone into their college funds." Toby didn‛t believe him. Those were the eyes of a man with nothing to lose.

"You‛ll make more, sticking it to poor fuckers who probably can‛t afford it." Keller wadded up the sack of trash and threw it. His voice dripped with scorn and Toby didn‛t bother to defend himself. All his clients could well afford it, but discussing it would do nothing but encourage Keller to bend him over that much further.

Toby changed the subject. "You know what kind of bike you want?"

Keller just looked surly. He shrugged, adjusted his leg with a wince, and wouldn‛t look at him. Toby got up and went to stare out the window. He drank his coffee and tried not to worry. He‛d get through this, if he stayed calm. Last night had been a damn disaster, and he blamed it on the booze. He always blamed it on the booze, but it wasn‛t his damn fault.

"Your wife okay?" Keller‛s voice was soft. "She ain‛t to blame for this mess. You are."

Toby slicked his hand through his hair. Keller was always surprising him with little hints of kindness. No one in Toby‛s life ever asked him those questions. Even his parents didn‛t - not any more. Something had driven them away. They were . . . detached.

"She‛s not happy, but everyone is fine. I‛m sure she‛s angry that I won‛t tell her what‛s going on." Toby hung his head, ashamed again. Too many damn martinis had screwed him over.

"She pushing you to get sober?"

"She‛s not beyond an occasional hint at this point, but she wants to talk when I get home." Toby wasn‛t sure why he was discussing this, but Keller wasn‛t laughing.

Keller sighed. "Kitty said that. She left the next day."

Toby had to look at him. "You cheat on her?"

"Of course." Keller rolled his eyes. "But she started it," he mumbled.

Toby didn‛t believe that for one minute. He took another drink of coffee, unsure of what to say. Staying in this room all day was a daunting prospect. Keller might turn on porn any minute now.

"Can I check your leg?" Toby was going towards him before he got an answer. The ice bag had melted, and he put it in the sink before taking a good look. "Yuck."

"Fancy lawyer vocabulary." Keller laughed, and it was funny. "Glad it ain‛t my face. Let‛s go for a walk. This place is moving in on me."

Toby agreed with that. He let Keller practically drape himself over and they made slow progress down the hall. Toby almost wished they‛d watched TV. The man was hot. Warm. Whatever. There was heat coming off him.

"A gift shop?"

Toby nodded and tried not to fall over from the weight of him. "Yeah. When‛s your massage again?"

"At two." Keller stopped at the elevator. "Geez, you‛re out of shape."

"Bite me." Toby slapped the button. He let Keller make his own way in the elevator and pushed the ground floor. Keller leaned against the back wall and smiled at him. It was annoying. That smile ought to be against the law.

"Ever had it up the ass?" Keller asked right as the door slid open. Four startled eyes stared at Toby and then darted away. Toby practically hauled Keller out into the lobby.

"Shut the fuck up. Shut it. Not one more word or I‛m relocating to California where you can‛t find me." Toby thought it was a pretty good idea. His father would kill him, but aside from that, it wasn‛t bad.

Keller laughed softly. "Oh, look, gifts. You should buy me a sweatshirt."

Threats obviously didn‛t work. Toby gave a grunt and helped him hobble in the store. Keller had a silly grin on his face, and he looked right at Toby.

"I like gifts."

"Get what you want," Toby ground out. He was skipping lunch for a martini. "I‛ll be at the café by the pool. Meet me there."

Keller smiled at the lady behind the desk. She returned it. "Put the items on your room number?"

"Please," Toby said and tried to walk away, not run. He found a good table that overlooked the pool and settled in for a six martini lunch. Keller would have to carry him back to the room.


Chris didn‛t need any of this crap, but since he owned nothing, it might be fun to make Toby buy him stuff.

"What do you need?" She was practically purring.

He smiled his best for her and rubbed his scruffy face. "Clothes. Bathroom stuff. You know, everything."

"Were you robbed?" She was looking him up and down, and he made sure a few muscles jumped. He nodded sadly.

"Beat up and left in the gutter. Toby there is helping me out until I get on my feet." Chris put his hand on the nearest case to steady himself. This was working out fine. Toby was going to pay and pay, and he was going to like it.


"Drunk yet?"

Toby took another drink and ignored that snippy question. "How was shopping, sweetheart?"

Keller eased himself down, cursing the entire way. People stared at him. He didn‛t seem to give a damn. "I got one of each."

"Good. Sounds excellent." Toby smiled falsely. "Did you get yourself something pretty?"

"I will drown your ass," Keller said very forcefully and not at all quietly.

Toby looked deep in dark blue eyes and believed him. Waving over the waiter, he said, "Get what you want."

"I will." Keller‛s eyes were dead again. Toby shivered. He had been messing with a snake, playing with fire, poking a bear, all those stupid sayings came to mind. Keller ordered a beer and more food. He ate a lot for a skinny guy. Well, he wasn‛t really skinny. More like fit.

"You eat more than me, and I weigh more." Toby took another long drink.

"All that booze has calories. You sit on your fat ass and order around your pretty secretary all day. I bet she‛s thin." Keller was being an asshole again.

Toby nodded, unfazed. He‛d heard worse. "She is. I do. What do you do for a living?" He‛d meant to ask earlier, but he‛d been mostly drunk.

"Steal cars, pick pockets, ya know, small time stuff." Keller looked perfectly serious. "Help out at the chop shop when they need me."

"Maybe you should call them and let them know you won‛t be in." Toby believed it. He was having lunch with a felon that intended to take as much money as possible from him.

Keller shrugged. "They won‛t notice. You get some time off?"

"Yes. They didn‛t care." Toby unexpectedly told the truth. He had the days. It hadn‛t been a problem, and they were probably tired of his three martini lunches. "Too bad you can‛t swim."

"It sucks. There‛s a hot tub too." Keller looked glum. "It‛d hurt like hell, but still."

Toby didn‛t feel sorry for him. "Maybe your next accident will work out better."

"Don‛t make this about me. You fucked me up." Keller‛s eyes were sharp now. The waiter delivered the beer and some chips, and Keller took a short drink. "I stayed in a place like this in Vegas. Except for all the Elvises, it was sweet."

"I can see where that would get annoying." Toby eyed the bottom of his glass. He wanted to get shit-faced, but it wasn‛t smart. Keller would take advantage of it - again. Toby ate a chip or two and tried to think of something to say. "Been to jail?"

Keller shut down. He closed his eyes for one second, drank some beer, and turned his chair so it faced the pool. Nothing. He said nothing. Toby filed it away for later. He wasn‛t sure he wanted to know, but if Keller was on probation, it was something to use against him. One phone call and he‛d be gone. Toby woke up and smelled the coffee. He had options. There were always choices, and he had money. Money could buy anything.

"I know a guy. Ronnie is his name."

Toby didn‛t like the way this was going. Keller was one step ahead of him.

"We met in the joint." Keller still wasn‛t looking at him. "He likes fires."

Toby nearly threw up. He jerked in reaction and his martini glass hit the concrete with a crash. In slow motion, he watched the shards come down to rest around the stem. That was him. Broken. Nothing but bits and pieces. He licked his lips.

"We‛re playing it your way."

"Good boy." Keller didn‛t smile. "Be careful now. You‛ll get hurt." He gestured at the glass, but they both knew what he meant.

"I understand." Toby did. He didn‛t want it explained to him again. Three more days, maybe two. He could do this, pay him off, and have his life back. Keller smiled up at the waiter that had hurried over. Toby swallowed his tonsils, trying to find air.

"He‛s always been clumsy," Keller said. "You want another drink, Toby?"

"I think I‛ve had enough." Toby hoped his voice sounded normal. "An ice tea is fine."

Keller licked his lower lip. "Nice day."

"Great." Toby eased to his feet. "I have to piss."

"I bet you do."

Toby was tired of running away, but it was what he did best.


Chris stared after the little prick. Toby was tugging at his leash, but he‛d behave until he forgot again. The booze had made him brave. It was almost funny. The lawyer had a tiny set of balls and no idea what to do with them. Prison would‛ve been good for him. It would‛ve molded him into a real man. Well, maybe the next time he ran over someone, he‛d get caught. Today, right now, Chris intended to get as much as possible out of him before heading for the West Coast. It was time for a change of scenery. Too many people had a grudge against him in this town.

"Here we are," the waiter said as he delivered the food. "Can I get you something else? Or your friend?"

Chris thought about it. "Don‛t forget his tea." He smiled up at him. So many possibilities in a hotel this size, and he had two or three days to explore them.


"I‛m sorry, Mr. Beecher, what was the room number again?"

Toby made sure not to crush the phone. He schooled his voice to patience. "Just leave it at the front desk. I‛ll get it later."

"Anything else?" His secretary sounded chipper. She was probably enjoying the day without him. He didn‛t blame her. He wished he could take a vacation from himself and his fucked up life.

"You have the next two days off." Toby hoped that would keep gossip to a minimum. "But if you speak to my father regarding this, you‛re fired."

Silence. She must have known that he meant it. "I‛d never, sir. Within the hour, I promise."

"Thank you." Toby hung up and went back to watch Keller stuff his stupid face. From now on, Toby was staying quiet. He‛d do what he was told and get out alive. Thinking he could find a loophole had been a dangerous mistake. He sat down and sipped his tea before looking at his tormentor. Keller‛s eyes were on him. For longer than he liked, they stared at each other. Finally, he looked away.

"Have some food," Keller said softly. "Can‛t live on booze."

"Were you a Jewish mother in another life?" Toby snapped. He was shocked at the sudden influx of anger. He had to shut up. His children were counting on him to come home alive.

Keller‛s jaw tightened but he said nothing, and somehow that was scarier than threats.

"I‛m sorry, okay? I‛m just stressed. For me, this isn‛t a vacation." Toby backpedaled fast. "I miss my kids, and my job isn‛t going away just because I‛m sitting around a pool."

"Tell me about your kids." Keller didn‛t sound angry, but he was. Toby had seen it enough to know. He licked his lips and talked about Gary and Holly until the food was gone and Keller was staring mindlessly at the pool.

"She‛s pretty." Keller tapped Toby‛s hand and pointed with his chin. "Think she puts out?"

Toby was completely thrown by the sudden influx of sex into the conversation. "I doubt it."

"Anything else?" The waiter had the ticket, and Toby signed it and put the room number on it. He looked at Keller expectantly.

"We‛re good." Keller got up stiffly and casually put his hand on the waiter‛s shoulder in a faked attempt to keep his balance. "You get off soon?"

The waiter‛s eyes went very round. He swallowed hard. "At three."

"You know where I‛ll be." Keller smiled. Toby nearly shoved him in the pool. The waiter walked off in an apparent daze.

"Slut," Toby whispered, getting to his feet quickly.

"Cunt," Keller fired right back. He reached, yanked Toby close, and leaned against him. "It‛s time for my massage, and I‛m going to need another pain pill. I hurt. You ever been hurt?"

"No," Toby whispered. "People are staring. Come on." He needed to buy Keller a damn crutch. Keller did start limping though, and he seemed to be moving easier. Toby didn‛t stop until they hit the bed and then got him a soda from the mini-fridge to wash a pain pill down. Keller grunted, cursed, and complained.

"Geez, what a drama queen," Toby muttered.

"You ever call me a fag and I‛ll twist your fucking head around backwards," Keller snarled. He didn‛t look happy.

Toby felt a fresh spurt of fear. "Listen, I have to go to the front desk. You need anything?"

Keller grimaced, trying to find a comfortable spot. Toby tilted his head and tried to put his mind to work at figuring out the puzzle that was Chris Keller. Violent, yes, kind, occasionally, horny, definitely, but he was also almost vulnerable at times. As if he were lost and that didn‛t make any sense.

"Get out."

Toby didn‛t have to be told twice. He‛d go read the paper, have some liquid lunch, and wait for the package from work.


Chris took a pain pill fast. He‛d been beat up before, raped before, this was nothing new, but those big, blue eyes staring at him made it all different. Toby protested, acted like an ass, and said rude things, but he did help, and he wasn‛t leaving. Chris had half-expected him to run away after last night‛s blowjob.

"Stupid fucker," Chris muttered. He couldn‛t rely on anyone. That was the rule, and believing any thing that drunk lawyer said was a damn mistake.


Toby stayed in the lobby long past the time he should‛ve returned to the room. He worked on the case that his secretary had dropped off, read the newspaper, and pretended. The last thing he did was worry about Keller. Keller could go to hell. Toby drained his last martini, fumbled his papers together, and reluctantly decided to go check on him. The felon was going to be fine, living off Toby‛s hard earned dollar.

Smoke practically roiled out of the room, and Toby shut the door fast. "This is a non-smoking room!"

Keller laughed. It was more of a giggle. Toby put his packet down in his luggage but never took his eyes off him.

"You‛re high!" Toby took a deep breath. It was good stuff. He tried to glare but since he was half in the bag it wasn‛t easy. His feet didn‛t listen to his good sense and he approached the bed. Keller held it out, and Toby took it. A deep drag was so satisfying. His lungs sighed with glee.

"I should‛ve guessed you‛d want to fucking share." Keller didn‛t look mad. He eased it away from Toby‛s fingers and inhaled.

Toby sat down on the edge, but not too close. "Where‛d you get it?"

"The waiter." Keller licked his lower lip and handed it back. Toby wanted it bad. He didn‛t smoke very often, but he loved it when he did. Booze was forgetting it all and making the world blurry. Pot was for feeling good. Guilt. Shame. It all seemed funny when he was high.

"Ya pothead," Keller said with a distinct slur. "Where ya been?"

"Working on some dumbass case." Toby wished he‛d have come back sooner. "Enjoy your massage?"

Keller nodded. "She was ugly as sin. No worries about anyone fucking that." He shrugged. "I gave it a try, but she said no."

Toby started laughing. He wasn‛t high yet, and that was just funny. "You have no shame."

"I like pretty things, like you, but yeah, variety is good." Keller grinned, dimples showing. "You drunk?"

"Pretty much." Toby slid off the bed and put his back to the wall. He was pretty? That wasn‛t possible. He was still close enough to share the joint, and they continued to pass it back and forth. "You got another one?"

Keller shook his head. "Didn‛t have any money. This was a freebie."

Toby was sorry to hear that. He fished out his wallet and handed Keller some twenties. "Just in case you see him tomorrow."

"Sweet." Keller looked around. "Hang onto it for me, will ya?"

Toby giggled. He put it in the nightstand drawer. "I‛m such a loser."

Keller handed the joint to him. "Yeah, you are, but I ain‛t all that great."

"Oh, fuck you." Toby smiled. He took more than his fair share. He‛d gotten here late after all. "The waiter suck your dick?"

"Nah. He doesn‛t put out unless he‛s on a date." Keller rolled his eyes. "And I ain‛t paying for it."

Toby tried to understand that convoluted thinking but had to give up. "You‛re fucked in the head."

Keller took the joint back. "Yeah. You still mad?"

"Drunk." Toby wondered why Keller would ask. "You gonna have my house burned down?"

"Nah. Ronnie‛s more into breaking legs." Keller laughed and Toby laughed with him even though it wasn‛t funny. The joint was almost gone, and he wished they could go buy more, but that was a risk he never took. Keller blew the last of it at Toby.

Toby breathed deep and relaxed back against the wall. "Fuck."

Keller didn‛t answer, but he reached out his hand, and Toby took it. Toby fumbled up and stretched out on the bed next to him. When Keller‛s mouth came down on his, he didn‛t worry about it. It was good to be kissed hard. Felt good. He groaned and held him closer.

"Yeah! Come in!" Keller yelled. Toby stared up at him, confused. Keller shrugged. "Room service. I‛ll have the munchies in about ten minutes."

Keller kissed him again, and Toby didn‛t pay attention as the food was put near the TV by some faceless waiter. Food would be good. The kisses were better. Keller stroked his hand through Toby‛s hair, and Toby wondered why they‛d ever argued. A Harley was no big deal, and it was his fault. He drank too much.

"Suck me this time?" Keller asked so softly. "Please?"

Toby didn‛t think he should. It might mean something bad, like he was gay, but it was his turn. He owed him. Of course, he rarely paid his debts. He rarely remembered them. "Will it be gross?"

"Go find out." Keller kissed him. Their tongues pushing and slipping. "You got a great tongue," Keller said into Toby‛s mouth.

"Wife hates it," Toby took a breath long enough to say.

"Even when it‛s in her pussy?" Keller‛s eyes were wide in disbelief. "Hell, I want it up my ass!"

Toby winced. He‛d never considered it, and he wouldn‛t be doing it. "That is not happening!"

"Later." Keller smirked. He smoothed his thumb across Toby‛s lower lip. "You‛re always fucking scared."

"Nothing I do is ever good enough, you know?" Toby flicked his tongue out and ran it down Keller‛s jaw. The gasp and dry hump that Keller gave him made it better. This all might be the booze and the pot, but it felt right, better than any woman.

Keller ran his hand inside Toby‛s shirt and put his hand flat. "I know."

Toby peeled Keller‛s shirt off and stared at the muscles and taut skin. He‛d wanted to touch men before but he‛d been too scared. He giggled. The pot had taken care of that. Keller‛s hands seemed to be all over him, and he was naked before he knew what was happening. He slid Keller‛s shorts off, but carefully.


"Nothing hurts, Toby," Keller drawled. He slid his finger across Toby‛s lips. "I‛ll suck yours if you suck mine."

"Sounds complicated. I‛m a little high here." Toby giggled. He got up the courage to touch Keller‛s dick. It was a lot like his own, but thicker, and he didn‛t curve as much. Keller put his hands on Toby‛s shoulders and manuevered him into place. It wasn‛t exactly pushing. Toby had to shut his eyes. Keller‛s hand was on his head, but he didn‛t mind. He was going to need help. It was Keller‛s other hand that made Toby gasp and that was enough to get him started.

"Use that throat and tongue." Keller thrust up, and Toby tried his best. He did. It was weird, but it wasn‛t bad, and his head was spinning and he jerked when his own dick went in Keller‛s mouth. Keller laughed, but went back at it, and Toby shook as it all swept over him. The come hit his stomach hard, but he swallowed until there wasn‛t any more. He fell back, panting. He‛d come ages ago. His guts twisted and he staggered for the bathroom. Falling to his knees, he lost his breakfast and his lunch and the deposit from Keller. It was more disgusting than he‛d have believed.

"Hey, it‛s okay." Keller put his hand on Toby‛s shoulder and handed him a wet wash cloth. "I threw up the first time too."

Toby vomited again. "It‛s the vodka." He wiped his mouth. "You did?"

Keller helped him up. "Yeah. I was seventeen. The guy‛s cock wasn‛t clean, and he used me like a whore. I threw up half the night."

"Oh, God." Toby held on to him. "You were in prison."

"Fuck yeah." Keller brushed Toby‛s hair back. "Let‛s eat."

Toby gave him a nudge. "Give me a sec." He swallowed hard until Keller was gone and then threw up again.


Chris put the food on the bed and got comfortable. He was hungry, and Toby would be too. There was still the smell of the pot in the air, and he smiled. That had been easy. He laughed and washed Toby‛s spunk down with a soda. Toby had a nice dick, and that tongue should be in the mouth of every whore.

"You ain‛t so bad," Chris whispered very softly. He still didn‛t like him. They were nothing alike. Toby was, and had, everything that Chris had ever wanted. And it had turned him into a drunk. Life was weird like that. Chris didn‛t pretend to understand it. He wasn‛t smart like Toby. He might leave tomorrow. Chris would heal fast. He always did. Rubbing his face, he sighed. This was all a taste of what he could never have. Vern had taught him the truth - he was shit. That was real. This was nothing but a dream.


Toby brushed his teeth twice before going out to the main room. He stopped to lock the door and went to draw the drapes. Keller was eating. He was always eating. Toby felt his stomach gurgle.

"Never suck cock when you‛ve only eaten vodka," Toby croaked and surveyed the mess of clothes. Scooping them up, he found some shorts and a T-shirt for himself and glanced over at him. "Clothes?"

"Nah. I‛d get hot." Keller grinned. "Come eat. It‛ll help."

Toby knew it would, but the first couple of bites were hell. "Nachos again?"

"God‛s perfect food." Keller swiped a chip through some sour cream and ate it. "You ever gonna call me by my name?"

"What is it again?" Toby wiped his mouth and hoped this stayed down. He opened a can of soda and sipped it. That was better. "I‛m a jackass."

"Yep." Keller nodded. "It‛s Chris."

Toby wasn‛t sure he could think of him that way, even after sex. "It‛s kinda hard. You‛re the bad guy in this farce."

"Me?" Keller looked incredulous. "But, but, I was sober! I wasn‛t even high! I was minding my own business when you ran my ass over!"

"Whiner." Toby grinned at him. Keller leaned, wrapped his hand around Toby‛s neck, and pulled. Toby went and their lips met with a smack. Keller gave him plenty of tongue to play with, and Toby didn‛t fight him off.

"Slut," Keller said and shoved him away.

"Cunt." Toby laughed and managed not to fall in the food. "All right! It was my fault! But you did get a blowjob out of the deal, and I‛ll buy you a motorcycle, a small one, like a Honda or something."

Keller‛s eyebrow went up. "A Harley, and a helmet and new leathers and every other damn accessory that I want!"

"Fuck." Toby would do it. "I won‛t be rich when you‛re done with me!"

"Right." Keller rolled his eyes. "And I gave you two blowjobs!"

"It‛s all about you, isn‛t it?" Toby belched and ate another chip. "This isn‛t real food. I‛m ordering something else."

"Hey, it‛s easy when someone else is buying." Keller grinned that shitty one. "Get me some French fries."

"How you don‛t weight four hundred pounds is beyond me." Toby headed for the phone.

Keller shrugged. "It‛s nice not to be hungry. I could get used to it fast."

Toby hadn‛t been ashamed for all of an hour or two, but those few words brought it right back. Keller‛s shoulder blades jutted for a reason and all Toby‛s conspicuous wealth had to be driving the point home that here was a fine fat pigeon to pluck. He ordered a steak and a double order of French fries. Any resentment that he had left faded away. Sure, he was being blackmailed, but he deserved it, and he had it. It was time to give in gracefully and do the right thing.

"Let‛s buy a movie," Toby said and tossed him the movie guide. "No porn."

Keller nodded and picked a good one. Toby ate, laughed, and didn‛t drink for the first time in a lot of years. He also watched Keller fall asleep. It was Chris. Chris was asleep, and he wasn‛t a bad guy. Toby knew his world was upside down, but he didn‛t much care. It had been forever since he‛d laughed sober. The booze could go to hell for one night. He shut his eyes and didn‛t flinch at the big hand that eased across him. They were completely different people from different backgrounds, and they were the same. It made no sense and he didn‛t give a damn. One more day was all he had, and he‛d take it.


Chris was careful not to wake him. He took a long piss and stared at himself in all the damn mirrors. He was pretty beat up, but he felt better, and it was easier to walk. Not much longer and Toby would be gone back to his family, and Chris would have nothing again. No one. If only there was a way to keep him.

Dimly, Chris heard the maid in the hallway, and he quickly went to put out the ‛Do Not Disturb‛ sign. He wanted to hold him as long as possible. Pretend. And the room smelled like pot. They might have to crack a window or something. Toby‛s wife was a bitch.


Toby knew who was kissing him this time, and he smiled as he returned the favor. "Is it morning?"

"Afternoon." Chris was grinning. "Come here." He pulled and Toby went without asking why, ending up on top of him.

"This hurt?" Toby didn‛t want to move until he knew.

"Nah." Chris spread his legs and wrapped his hands into Toby‛s ass. "Ever fuck a man?"

"You ask those questions just to watch my eyes bulge." Toby had to move, had to feel him. Chris‛s hands caught Toby‛s face and they kissed, and kissed, moving and grunting. Toby had a bizarre thought that this shouldn‛t be so exciting, but it was as if every inch of his skin had been dipped in gasoline and was ablaze. Chris might have been on the bottom, but he was clearly in charge, and Toby followed the leads he was given.

"Fuck, you feel good," Chris whispered. His tongue left a wet path across Toby‛s neck. His hands pulled Toby‛s asscheecks apart and dipped deep. Toby bucked his cock against Chris‛s. His lawyer vocabulary couldn‛t seem to come up with any words, but he was afraid the groaning could be heard in the hall. Fingers pressed against his mouth and he sucked them.

"That‛s it." Chris replaced his fingers with his tongue. Toby sucked it. He gasped when he felt Chris‛s finger slide inside him. Chris wrapped his other arm around Toby‛s shoulders and tugged him a little higher. "This feels great. Hang on."

Toby didn‛t understand, but he didn‛t have breath to argue and then pleasure jolted him over and over again, and he nearly flew off Chris to hit the floor. Chris held him tight and made him squirm. Euphoria shook him hard, bliss wringing him out until he lay gasping on top of him. Chris chuckled softly.

"Let‛s get in the shower. I got something on me," Chris said with laughter in his voice.

"Can‛t walk." Toby giggled. He kissed him again and looked him over. "You did too?"

"Couldn‛t help it. You were sexy." Chris slapped Toby‛s ass. "Get off. Yer heavy."

Toby rolled away, but made sure not to hit that sore leg. He padded to the shower and started the water. Chris limped in the bathroom, but Toby could tell he was moving much better. He still looked like he‛d been run over, and Toby tugged him close to kiss one of the worst bruises.

"I‛m sorry."

Chris was suddenly clutching him. "Hey, at least you weren‛t trying to kill me." His laughter was raw. Toby kissed him and pulled him in the shower after wrapping his leg with plastic wrap. Thinking of Chris dead made Toby‛s heart flip flop.

"I‛ve never known anyone like you," Toby muttered as he soaped Chris‛s back, ass, and legs.

"Need to get out more." Chris turned and stole a kiss. "You‛re the first rich guy to give me the time of day."

Toby wasn‛t surprised at that. "Gotta work this ass more." He slapped it gently.

Chris glared at him. "Stupid fuck."

"Remember it." Toby hoped Chris did. "Don‛t rely on me for anything. I‛ll let you down."

"Same goes for me." Chris nodded. It was clear he meant that. Toby did too, and he didn‛t waste time wishing it were different.

They fumbled their way out of the shower, and Toby got down on his knees to unwind the plastic wrap and take a good look at Chris‛s knee. Chris immediately threaded his fingers through Toby‛s hair. Toby ignored it and stared at the mess he‛d made.

"It‛s better," he said with pure relief. He didn‛t touch, but the swelling was gone, and even though the cut was still covered with butterfly bandages, it was obvious that it was improving. Glancing up, he got to his feet. "Let me take you somewhere nice for dinner and we‛ll shop for a bike."

Chris‛s eyes narrowed. "You mean it?"

So much distrust and it was impossible to blame him. "Yes. I mean it."

"Tomorrow, you go home to your kids, okay?" Chris didn‛t sound angry about it.

Toby kissed him from gratitude. "Thank you. Let‛s spend today getting you organized."

"What?" Chris frowned. "You buy me a bike and walk away. Nothing to it."

"You‛re going to need a place to stay. Your leg isn‛t well enough for you to bike off into the sunset." Toby wasn‛t going to take no for an answer. "Let me help. I know it isn‛t easy."

Chris hugged him for one second. "Don‛t try to convince me you‛re a nice guy."

"I‛m going to do as little as possible. You have my word." Toby was lying, but he had to do it to make it easier for Chris to swallow. "I owe you."

"Yeah, you do." Chris looked in the mirror and started to brush his hair. "We need to get out of here before they smell the pot."

Toby laughed. "I‛ll crack the window." He went to the door and hesitated. He‛d never ridden a motorcycle. "Take me for a ride?"

Chris nodded, and Toby went out to the main room to get them packed.


Chris stared at himself in the mirror and leaned against his hands. He wasn‛t going to waste one second feeling guilty. Toby did owe him. It was time to make it even. At the end of this, maybe they could get a beer every now and then. If he was still around. Riding away was going to be hard now, damn it. Damn those pretty blue eyes and soft hands.


"You have no pants." Toby threw up his hands in disgust. "And sweats are not pants."

"I ain‛t going for the geeky lawyer look that you sport." Chris made a disgusted snort. "My dick is covered. It‛s enough."

"The fuck it is." Toby snorted back at him. "Let‛s go buy you some clothes, and then a bike, and then dinner."

Chris slipped into a sweatshirt that said ‛Marriott‛ on the back. "God, you‛re a pain in the ass."

Toby thought Chris had it backwards. "You‛re just stubborn." He kept on packing. Somehow everything he owned was scattered all over the room. "Grab that money."

"And the condoms." Chris smirked. "Hey, I bought a duffle bag!"

"Did you forget?" Toby laughed at him. "And I thought I was drunk."

Chris shrugged. "I was staring at her tits. I got distracted."

"I‛ve never met a man as horny as you." Toby looked under the bed and found last night‛s boxers. He threw them in his bag with only a small blush. It was time to start feeling guilty about his wife. He‛d have to face her in less than twenty-four hours, but at least this would be behind him. Chris would be back on his feet and able to go on with his life.

"You still gonna be a drunk?" Chris‛s voice was soft and low.

Toby wished he had an answer. He didn‛t. "I‛ll probably have a whiskey in my hand as soon as I hit the door of my house."

"I‛ll keep an eye out for your car then." Chris was poking fun at him now. "Here‛s your cell."

Toby didn‛t reach for it. "Keep it. I‛ll pay the charges. You get three hundred free minutes a month."

"You sure? It‛s got your family in here." Chris still held it out.

"Delete them." Toby smirked. "Unless you want my dad to give you a lecture about your work ethic."

Chris flipped it open. "I‛ll get right on it." He slowly sat down, and Toby could hear tiny beeps as he made a final sweep before going to the bathroom. He separated everything into two piles and then put his stuff in his bag. Chris was still busy, so Toby grabbed the duffel bag and filled it up. There wasn‛t all that much.

"I thought you bought a few things?" Toby rubbed his forehead. He didn‛t understand a man that owned nothing.

"I lied. I got bored." Chris handed Toby the bottle of whiskey. "Don‛t forget this."

Toby put it in Chris‛s bag. "Get anything you want out of the mini-fridge and let‛s get out of here."

Chris tossed the phone in the bag. "Ain‛t you spent enough?"

"I may cry at the Harley dealer so don‛t worry about a few candy bars." Toby had to laugh, but he didn‛t understand what Chris was thinking. Now Chris was worried about money? Why? Chris shrugged and didn‛t move, so Toby cleaned it out and put it all in Chris‛s bag.

"Don‛t mean nothing," Chris whispered, and Toby couldn‛t deny it. He didn‛t really care. He wanted Chris gone and throwing money at him was the best way to solve the problem. Toby swallowed back any words that might refute it, but at the same time he couldn‛t bring himself to confirm the statement.

Toby looked around one more time. "Come on."

Chris grabbed the duffel bag. "You‛re a shitty driver. Am I safe with you?"

"Probably not." Toby left the fan going in the bathroom and a tip for Maria - a big one - by the TV. He shouldered his luggage, took one last look at the bed where he‛d cast aside his good sense, and walked out.


Chris didn‛t hurry after him. He stared at the bed. The temptation to toss Toby on it and go another round was making him itchy. One last blowjob. Something. He felt goosebumps on his arms. It‛d feel so good. Licking his lower lip, he made up his mind not to give a damn. Toby was still a drunken fucked up lawyer that would ditch him as soon as possible. That hadn‛t change.

"You coming?"

"You volunteering to give me a hand?" Chris refused to give a fuck. Never again.


There was enough to do to keep them busy, but Toby grew frustrated quickly. Chris didn‛t seem to care about anything. He complained, bitched, and moaned about every little thing. Toby felt like a damn bully, shoving material goods at him.

"You are going to pick one, right?"

"Just one?" Chris smirked and that was an improvement over the bitching. "Yeah, yeah. They‛re all nice."

Toby crossed his arms and sighed. They all looked the same to him. "I like that one."

"Not your bike." Chris started looking them over again. Toby had no concept of what the problem was so he went to find a chair. There was a stool near the cash register and he sat down. At least Chris had some clothes now. Jeans and shirts but they were new. If Toby didn‛t know better, he‛d think that Chris was stalling. The sun was about down, and they needed to get finished. Neither of them had eaten, and he was hungry, definitely thirsty.

The owner gave Toby a look. Toby sighed. "Please help him make up his mind. He was talking about a long road trip."

"Any of them?" The owner rubbed his hands together.

"Yes, but only one." Toby grinned. He fiddled with his cell phone and considered calling his wife, but he‛d see her soon. Tomorrow morning for sure and he‛d have to buy her something pretty to make up for this. No chance she‛d want a motorcycle - maybe a new Lexus. He sighed and scrubbed his hair with his hands. Had it only been three days or a lifetime? He wished he knew. A funny thought popped in his head and he dug out his spare cell phone. He dialed the number quickly.

"Uh, hello?" Chris did not sound confident.

"Chris, I‛m hungry. Very hungry," Toby said patiently. "Hurry the fuck up!" He slapped the phone shut, but he caught the glare that came his way across the showroom. It was almost funny. Thirty more minutes crawled by.

"Okay, ya asshole, I picked one. It wasn‛t easy!" Chris‛s high power glare was back.

Toby spoke to the owner. "Get him a leather coat, gloves, chaps, whatever, and a good helmet. Don‛t ask his opinion, just go collect the stuff."

Chris‛s eyes practically shot sparks. "I should kick your ass."

"Right, gimp." Toby laughed at him and enjoyed it. The owner‛s eyes were huge, but he was tossing stuff on the counter. Chris grabbed the coat and pulled it on. It fit him great and Toby had to swallow some spit. That was a good look for him.

"Boots?" the owner asked hopefully.

Toby looked down at Chris‛s old sneakers and nodded. "Definitely." He ignored another glare and started looking at the knick knacks on the counter. Harley Davidson had their logo on everything possible. He idly wondered who their law firm was and picked up a keychain. Impulsively, he got two.

"What‛re ya doing?"

"Hey, my dad wouldn‛t let me have a bike. I can at least get a keychain."

Chris looked suspicious. He had most of the day. "You ditching me?"

"Not before we eat and find you some place to stay." Toby raised his eyebrows. This situation certainly had turned around. "Unless you want me to leave."

"No," Chris said harshly. "I‛m used to you bitching and moaning and drinking. I‛m weirded out."

"Today that seems to be your job." Toby‛s hand suddenly wanted to hold a martini and he licked his lips. "Drinks are with dinner."

Chris took the boots the owner handed him and sat down to put them on. Toby stole the sneakers and threw them away. Chris didn‛t seem to notice or care. The owner gave Toby a look that talked money. It was time to cry.

"Don‛t have my checkbook," Toby said to himself. He fished through his wallet to find his platinum VISA. "Not sure what the limit is on this one." He stared at it. "Wait, I got my debit card. Which do you want?"

"Debit." The owner snatched it. "Anything else?" Big grin.

Toby looked at Chris and gently touched the leather coat. "Chris?"

Chris looked away. "Nah." He was frowning.

"This is you sticking it to me. Enjoy it," Toby growled. He‛d thought that Chris would be jumping up and down. Chris shrugged and the owner handed him the keys. Toby took them from Chris‛s slack fingers and strung them on the key chain. "Chris, you do have a license, right?"


Toby heard the lie, but he wasn‛t going to push it. He started hauling the bag of extras to the car and Chris pushed the bike out the front door with some help from the owner. For one brief second, Toby was almost envious. He stared down at the keychain in his hand and tucked it away. It wasn‛t much, but he‛d have something to remember him by. He went directly back to Chris before he rode off.

"Where to? Pick some place and we‛ll get you a room." Toby wasn‛t backing down.

Chris frowned and straddled the bike. "Let me think about it."

"Fine. Follow me and we‛ll get some food. My stomach is bitching at me." Toby got in his car, fully aware that he could drive off and leave him, but one more dinner didn‛t count for anything, and then he‛d never see Chris again. Back to being a lawyer, a husband, a father, and a fake. It was his life.


Chris put the helmet on and revved the engine. He wasn‛t going to follow him. The other direction was better. Toby should‛ve been complaining and trying to duck out on him. All he‛d done was pay the bill and smile. It didn‛t make any sense. Chris knew his blowjobs weren‛t that good - not forty grand worth of goodness.

"Thanks for the business."

Chris shook the guy‛s hand. He wanted to protest that Toby wasn‛t his daddy, but the words stuck in his throat. Toby started pulling from the parking lot, and Chris tore out after him. Dinner and then a cheap motel somewhere safer than usual. After that, he‛d kiss Toby goodbye and the drunk could crawl back in the bottle. It was the way the world worked.


Toby heaved a sigh of relief when he had a martini in his hand and he didn‛t come up for air until it was half gone.

"Slow down. You still gotta drive," Chris hissed at him. "Stupid drunk."

"Fuck you," Toby whispered right back. He wasn‛t listening to that shit. It wasn‛t like he‛d ever-. He stopped. He‛d hit Chris. The next person might not be so lucky. That had been a residential neighborhood. What if he‛d hit a kid? He suddenly had goosebumps and shivered as if someone was walking over his grave. It was just barely possible that Genevieve was right and it was time to get some help. He‛d think about it. He‛d consider it. Chris‛s eyes were seeing right through him, and Toby pushed the martini away slightly and found something safe to talk about. "Does it ride nice?"

"It‛s a sweet ride. I‛d thank you but I earned it." Chris was close to glaring. "Don‛t be thinking I owe you!"

Toby saw the hurt deep in Chris‛s eyes. No one had ever given him anything that didn‛t have strings attached. "No. You bent me over. I was blackmailed, and I didn‛t like it."

"Then why all the smiles?" Chris growled. He looked almost pissed.

"I, well, don‛t know." Toby did know, but he wasn‛t going to say that he liked him. That he liked someone that he shouldn‛t. "The food here is great. Eat all you want."

Chris leaned back in his chair. He still had the jacket on, and he looked dark and dangerous. It was sexy. Toby recalled that two days ago he‛d been scared shitless, but it had all changed. Chris was just a man like him, trying to get by and failing.

"A lot of damn money," Chris muttered. "Not that you didn‛t owe me."

"If you‛d have sued, you‛d have gotten more, but no blow job." Toby dropped his voice very low on the last two words. He reached quickly and tapped Chris on the hand. There was one thing he had to know. "You leaving town?"

"Thinking about it." Chris nodded. He didn‛t look happy. "Nothing keeping me here."

Toby saw that was the truth. "Fresh start in California maybe." He hated to think of Chris ending up back in prison. The waiter interrupted them, and they ate. Chris didn‛t seem to want to talk so Toby shut up. They were both hungry, and Toby didn‛t complain when Chris stole some food. It seemed normal. Chris gave him a ragged smile and Toby paid the check.

The bike was shining under the street light and Toby stopped next to it instead of going to his car. Chris was jingling his keys. They exchanged a cautious glance. Toby told himself to breathe. He wasn‛t sure what he was thinking or feeling, but it was making his chest ache.

"Wanna go for a ride?" Chris asked softly. "I got the two seater."

Toby had noticed. He glanced at the car. "I bet your stuff would fit in those saddlebags."

Chris didn‛t answer right away. "Let‛s try." They did it together, and it was a tight fit, but they got it done. At that point, Chris swung his leg over and snapped, "Get on or run away."

Toby thought maybe his life flashed in front of his eyes. He always ran away. He never did what he wanted, instead he did what he thought they needed. One decision after another and it had led to a life that he hated. One damn dull day after another, full of nothing. His kids‛ faces spun up in front of his eyes and of course he loved them, but he often wondered if they were casualties waiting to happen. Given a chance, he‛d screw them up. They‛d watch him throw his life away and they‛d do the same. Like Chris had once said, Toby should‛ve been happy. Unfortunately, his life wasn‛t made of should‛ve, it was made of couldn‛t, and he couldn‛t find the strength to do more with it. Chris kick started the engine and Toby had one second to piss it all away.

"Hold on tight," Chris said.

Toby intended to do just that. He wasn‛t letting go until he had to. The wind caught his hair, trying to drive him off the back, but that wasn‛t going to happen. Tomorrow morning, he‛d go home. He would. Chris might very well kick him out tonight, but right now - right this damn minute - they were together. It wouldn‛t be enough, but he‛d deal with that later, or he‛d get drunk and forget him, probably the easier solution.

The engine rumbled beneath him and he wondered if Chris would ever stop or if they‛d go until they hit the other ocean. He shivered, wishing. Chris made several quick turns and came to a halt. Toby wasn‛t sure whether he should get off or not.

"Where the hell are we?" Toby didn‛t shout. This wasn‛t the kind of neighborhood that encouraged it.

Chris encouraged him to get off. "Let me get the bike in the garage."

Toby tried to help, but Chris didn‛t need it, and they were going up some back stairs into a tiny house. Chris put his hand on Toby‛s shoulder and steered him to a back bedroom that had nothing more than a mattress on the floor. No sheet.

"This place never changes. Bonnie needs to re-decorate." Chris put his duffel on the floor. He was gone, back with a sheet, and they put it on together. Toby had another moment to back out, run the other way fast, but Chris caught him and they were down, and there was no room for anything in his brain.

"Oh fuck." Chris shoved against him, driving him down into the mattress.

"Who the hell is Bonnie?" Toby gasped out the question while trying to shred the clothes right off Chris‛s body.

Chris gave out a low growl, which wasn‛t much of an answer, and Toby nearly came in his boxers. Tonight, he wasn‛t behaving, or holding back or worrying that he was screwing up or so drunk that his choices didn‛t matter. He didn‛t stop to think again. His life was nothing but skin, grasping hands, and a hot tongue that was all over him.

"Chris, fuck, oh shit." Toby wasn‛t sure what he was saying, but he meant every word.

Chris kissed him gently, probing with his tongue. "Hang on. We‛ll need the condoms."

Toby chased after him as he crawled for his duffel bag and found things to lick and nibble. Chris laughed and pushed at him, and they ended up on the floor.

"Got ‛em!" Chris tossed them on the bed and shoved his groin at Toby‛s face. Toby laughed and wasn‛t intimidated. He pushed Chris back towards the mattress and followed, burying his head in Chris‛s crotch. Chris took a good grip on Toby‛s hair. "Tease."

"Maybe not." Toby wasn‛t scared of this any longer. He licked, loving Chris‛s raw groan. Chris‛s grip on Toby‛s hair tightened and Toby was glad he wasn‛t drunk. He wanted to know what he was doing and remember it tomorrow.

"Yeah, suck me," Chris whispered. Toby needed a little encouragement but he got a rhythm going without trouble and tried to use his tongue to maximum effect. Chris shifted his grip and shoved, and Toby bucked as the cock went in his throat. He didn‛t gag. He grabbed Chris‛s ass and made sure it happened again. Lack of a gag reflex was a good thing when it came to cock-sucking. Breathing through his nose, he sucked, and he liked it, and fuck anyone that said different.

"Take it. Take it," Chris chanted. "Oh, fuck."

Toby tasted it again, and this time it didn‛t faze him. He swallowed until Chris made him stop. There was only time enough to grin before Chris‛s mouth engulfed his cock and he gasped but no sound came out and he couldn‛t shut his mouth. He flailed for something to hold on to because Chris was trying to suck Toby‛s dick right off.

"Fuck!" Toby banged his head back into the mattress, grabbed Chris‛s shoulders, and convulsed as his come was sucked right out of him. For a long minute, he couldn‛t see or hear over the rushing of his body fluids. When he managed a deep breath, he cursed at him, "Chris, you motherfucker!"

Chris laughed in a deep voice. "That‛s me. I hope you ain‛t thinking we‛re done here."

Toby was too frazzled to get that. He was sprawled, half-conscious, but when Chris touched him on the asshole, it all became clearer. It was time to run, time to quit, time to call a cab and get his ass home. He spread his legs a little.

"Yeah, you know it feels good," Chris said softly. He was doing something that made Toby want to squirm. Chris‛s big hand locked onto Toby‛s thigh and pushed his legs further apart. "You want this, right?"

"What?" Toby asked stupidly, but he knew. He knew. He could feel Chris‛s long finger moving in and out of him. It didn‛t hurt. It felt damn good and before he thought about it, he was moving against it. He shut his eyes and gave in to all the wonderful feelings. This was better than booze. His body was tingly, and boneless, and wanting more, and he could see that Chris knew it.

"Your ass is perfect," Chris muttered, and Toby thought he was supposed to blush, but all he could do was groan. He felt so disconnected from life, and he‛d gotten here without the benefit of drugs. Sex had never been this good and part of him whispered that it never would be again, but all thoughts bled out his ears when Chris whispered, "Roll to your stomach."

Toby was ashamed that he didn‛t hesitate. No, he rolled and nearly shook from longing. "Chris." He had to say something.

"Don‛t worry." Chris dipped his head and sucked Toby‛s balls into his mouth. Toby pushed his ass up further and tried not to gibber into the sheet. He loved it when his balls were played with, but no one had ever done it. His wife would‛ve run screaming if he‛d have asked. Chris‛s tongue was doing things that Toby was sure were illegal and his hand never stopped moving.

"God, you‛re hot," Chris mumbled and Toby tried to focus his eyes down on his ass but it wasn‛t easy. He was hazy from the pleasure that Chris was giving him, and he wanted more. It could go on forever and he‛d be perfectly happy.

Chris gave out a raspy growl and at the same time, Toby stopped breathing. No air. None. Chris was crushing him.

"Wait for it." Chris‛s voice came from far away. Toby felt some air squeeze into his lungs. Lassitude had been shoved from his body, and then Chris did something back there that made Toby yelp. Chris nuzzled the back of Toby‛s neck and kissed him. Toby took a breath. His head was spinning like a top and every movement that Chris made was spiraling through Toby‛s body. Toby wished he knew if it was pain or not. Chris moved again, and Toby was shocked that it felt good. He looked deep in Chris‛s eyes.

"Don‛t forget me," Chris said in a voice so small that Toby wondered if he‛d imagined the words. Whatever he might have said in response was driven away by Chris moving his hips. Flesh hit him over and over again and he couldn‛t decide whether to crawl from it or slam back. A warm hand grabbed his cock and he was assaulted on both sides.

"Chris!" Toby yelled; his body flying ten directions at once. When he came down to Earth, he was sure he wouldn‛t move again for a week. Chris left him, but was back before too long. There was a sleeping bag pulled close, and Toby curled into it, exhaustion claiming him.


"Have you lost your mind?"

Chris glared, but Bonnie had a better one than he did. "It‛s a fucking complicated deal, but it‛s over."

Bonnie poked her big finger at Chris‛s chest. "You‛re a moron. That man will never do anything for someone like you!"

"I know that!" Chris did, but he hated that she knew it too. "What do you want me to do? Snap his neck and bury him in the back yard?"

"Wouldn‛t be the first time one of your lovers vanished!"

Chris clenched his fists to keep from wrapping his fingers around her neck. "He‛s different, and you don‛t know shit."

Bonnie laughed at him. "I know enough. Get out. Get the fuck out."

"You gonna have a go at him next?" Chris wanted to kill her, but he loved her. She was pissed now, and she was right. He had to get the hell out of here before it got ugly and someone ended up dead.

"Out," she snapped. Chris quit. He snuck back in the bedroom, grabbed his things, and made it out to his bike. His leg still hurt so he took a Percocet before kicking the engine over. It wasn‛t light yet. Nowhere left to run but he was going. Toby wouldn‛t care. He‛d be grateful to be rid of a piece of shit like Christopher Keller.


Sinking down into the driver‛s seat, Toby had to take a moment. He was beyond confused. Everything in the world was upside down from the slight ache in his ass to the memories of wanting it so badly then on to waking up stone alone in a deserted house. It was time to go home. Chris was gone. Chris would stay gone. Toby straightened his hair and started the car. Back to his life he‛d go. Back to his children and his wife and his job and he‛d like it. He would.

The car took him there, to that reality, far too quickly, but he got out without hesitating. It was Sunday. His kids would be home, and he gathered his things from the car and went inside quickly. The house was quiet - too quiet - and he dropped his things.

The doorbell rang, and he turned to get it. Genevieve must have taken the kids to his parents‛. He opened the door.

"Mr. Beecher, my name is Nathan Evans. I‛m Genevieve Beecher‛s attorney. May I come in?"

Toby already saw it all falling away. "Of course. I just returned home myself."

"I‛m aware of that." Evans looked at him as if he were a worm. "I‛m here to give you this and inform you that any further communication with Genevieve Beecher will be through me."

"My children?" Toby could feel the knife quivering in his back and he clutched the packet.

Evans slid his hand down his tie. "They are safe with their mother." He opened the door. "I‛ll be in touch."

Toby slammed the door behind him and slid down it. He ripped open the package and stared in horror. "No!" he yelled to an empty house. "No! No!" There wasn‛t any answer and he threw one picture after another of his naked body entwined with Chris‛s across the floor. Tears ran down his face and sobs began to rack his body. It was all gone. He made a fist and slammed it into Chris‛s laughing face. Chris had done this - that fucker. He‛d wrecked Toby‛s life because he could. Toby staggered up and stumbled for the shower. It was all gone. He dropped to his knees and dry-heaved. Crawling, he collapsed on the tile in the bathroom. Chris‛s cum was still on him. He shook and cried. It was all Chris‛s fault. Not his. Not his. He put his forehead down on the cold floor and prayed that someone would put him out of his misery. His prayers were never answered and he fell asleep with a wet face, still hiccuping.

"Tobias?" Someone was shaking him. "Are you drunk, Son?"

Toby grabbed hold and stared up into the face of his father. "No." He let his dad pull him to his feet and leaned against him. "I was upset."

Harrison frowned, looking him up and down. "Tell me what happened."

"No." Toby refused to do that. Talking about it would make it worse - more real. "I need a drink." He took a step towards the front room and the whiskey decanter, but his father‛s hand stopped him.

"Son, I can‛t help you if you don‛t talk to me."

"I don‛t need help." Toby couldn‛t bear to shake the hand away. "Genevieve left me. End of story. I don‛t blame her. I‛m sure you don‛t blame her. If we‛re lucky, she‛ll let us see the kids whenever we want."

His father shook his head in what had to be disgust. "It‛s not that simple. I spoke to her lawyer. She‛s gone to San Diego."

Toby gasped from the pain of it. "Well, I guess she wanted to screw me over." He remembered the scattered pictures and couldn‛t bring himself to blame her. Chris Keller had done this and he‛d probably laughed.

Harrison wet a wash cloth and handed it to him. Toby scrubbed his face but he was still dirty. He tried to take a deep breath and regain his composure, but it was too late for that.

"Son, will you fight for custody?"

Toby pulled away at hearing that and walked calmly to the front room. He scooped up all the damn pictures and put them in the packet before getting a glass of whiskey. It wouldn‛t help, but he had to have it. His father had followed him, of course, and now sat, staring at him.

"She‛s going to ruin me," Toby whispered. He had no trouble imagining several scenarios that could come out of this mess. "I tried to fix it. I screwed up, but I was trying, and now she is going to fuck me over."

"Are you gay?" His father sounded confused. "Why didn‛t you just leave her?"

Toby ground his teeth, struggling for calm. It didn‛t happen. "He blackmailed me! And used me! And promised me I could go home! But he lied! He lied!"

Harrison‛s eyes were very large and he tilted his head. "I don‛t know who this ‛he‛ is, but I do know that Genevieve hired a private investigator. Evans told me."

"Fucking God damn." Toby sat down hard. He finished his whiskey, refilled it from the bottle that was still in his hand, and drank it all down. "I am so screwed."

"Give her everything she wants and this might go no further than us." Harrison came over to him and gently took the bottle away. "It‛s time to take responsibility, Tobias. Put aside the booze and the sex and be an adult."

Toby stared up at him. "I didn‛t want to do it. It was an accident." He knew he wasn‛t making any sense. So Chris hadn‛t sent the pictures to Genevieve. It was still his fault. Toby didn‛t deserve this - he didn‛t. Damn it. Not this. "My kids."

"I know you love them. I wish you had loved them more." His father always had the answers.

"Dad, leave. Now." Toby clutched his drink. He couldn‛t bear to hear a lecture now. "I am fully aware of how I fucked up my life. Your work is done. Go home. I‛ll keep this quiet. Your faggot son won‛t make a scene."

Harrison caught him by the shoulder. "You‛re my son."

Toby surged up and shoved him away. He had to take a shower - wash off Chris‛s spunk. Dirty bastard. He took his whiskey back to the bathroom, ripped off his clothes, and got in the shower where the water could hide the tears. He‛d get through this and then he‛d track Chris Keller down and beat the shit out of him, or maybe run over him again and this time back up to finish the job.

"I am a damn slut," Toby whispered as he cleaned his ass. He could add that to his list of character flaws.

One day slid away into another, and he got through them all. Thank God for whiskey. He‛d never needed it more than the day he moved home. His mother and father were so kind, so compassionate, but their eyes said it all. He was more than a disappointment. Grabbing his briefcase, he went to work, and he only went home when he had to shower. It was the only way to keep going.


He straightened up from the file he‛d been studying. "Sir?"

"We need to talk."

Toby shut the file. He hadn‛t seen Frank O‛Leary - senior partner - since he‛d been hired. This could only be bad news. "How can I help?"

O‛Leary squared off in front of Toby‛s desk. "Certain information has come to my notice, and I‛m going to make this short and sweet. You‛re fired."

"For cause?" Toby slowly got to his feet. He had lost it all. Three martinis, one vehicular accident, and it was all gone. Chris Keller had a lot to answer for.

"No." O‛Leary wasn‛t going that far. "But I won‛t be giving you a recommendation. Genevieve, as you well know, is my Goddaughter, and what you did to her was beyond terrible. Pack your desk and be gone within the hour."

"She just now told you?" Toby hadn‛t known it. He should have. Getting this job had been way too easy. He‛d assumed his father had greased the wheels. If he had known, he‛d have quit. Another screw up on his part because without a recommendation, he was fucked. No one would touch him.

"Her father did." O‛Leary looked mad enough to spit. "Tell me: was it worth a night with a man whore?"

Toby flinched. It was time to say nothing and leave with his dignity intact, but he was never good at that. "At least my man whore sucked my dick."

"You bastard." O‛Leary picked up the phone. "Security, send two men to Tobias Beecher‛s office. He‛s leaving the building permanently."

Toby picked up his briefcase. He was finished. In retrospect, it might have been easier to have called the police and been arrested for driving under the influence. Oh, the road not taken. Tucking the picture of his kids away, he closed his case.

"You‛re done in this town. Not even your father can save you." O‛Leary practically spat on him.

"Hey, fuck you." Toby turned completely around. There was nothing else he needed. "And I fucked your secretary. She said I have a bigger dick than you."

Security saved him from getting a fist in the face. He was glad for their protection on the way out of the building. The news would spread faster than cancer. All that was left of his life was the booze. He‛d do that tonight, and every other night until his liver quit on him. It was a plan. He pulled into a bar and went inside. Time to get his new life started. The whiskey tasted just fine, and he stuck with it until the bartender refused to serve him again. Dickhead. He staggered out to his car, climbed in the back seat, and shut his eyes. There was no way he was driving. He‛d learned his lesson there. The booze dragged him under.


"I ain‛t doing it." Chris shook his head. He‛d stayed out of trouble lately, and he wasn‛t taking any chances. For some reason, prison was breathing down his neck. Money. It was always money. Not enough of it and he refused to sell his bike. It was all he had. All he‛d ever been given, even if Toby hadn‛t done it willingly.

"You‛re screwed then."

"I‛ll think of something!" Chris would. He had to - his life was riding on it.


Toby took the coffee his mother handed him. "Thanks."

"Tobias, are you going to look for a job today?" Her smile was hopeful.

"Not today or any other. I‛m officially your freeloader son." Toby smiled, but it was painful to do it. He hated disappointing her again today.

She sat down across from him. "Not everyone cares what O‛Leary says."

"I think you‛re wrong." Toby knew she was. The look on his father‛s face had said it all. "Any mail for me?" He changed the subject, hoping she‛d give up.

"Yes. Bills." She pushed them over to him. He flipped through them, cracked open the cell phone bill and groaned. It was big, and it wasn‛t like he had money coming in. He scanned the calls and in a blink, he was pissed.

"Fucking asshole," Toby mumbled. He nearly crumbled the bill. Damn that Chris Keller. Toby made up his mind to cancel that service. Sure, he‛d promised, but that was done. Finished. Like everything else in his life.

"Bad news?" His mother sounded intimidated.

"Is there any other kind?" Toby looked at the calls again. Chris was still in the city. He hadn‛t left. It had been another lie. Toby sipped his coffee, ignored his mother‛s big eyes, and thought about Chris without cursing him. Chris hadn‛t sent the pictures. The private investigator had used room service to get the photos.

"What will you do?" she asked softly.

Toby didn‛t know. He had no answers for her. "I miss my kids."

"You could go see them." Victoria put her hand gently on his. "You have visitation rights. Maybe getting away would be good for you."

"Running away is what I do best." Toby couldn‛t seem to stop staring at the bill. Chris was out there. Close. In his leather jacket and probably horny. No probably about it - Chris was horny. Toby drank some more coffee and looked his mother in the face. "There‛s someone I have to see."

She frowned. "You‛ll be careful."

"Too late for that." Toby took his bills and his coffee and went to dress for his day. In a life where he made nothing but mistakes, he was sure this was another one, but he had nothing left to lose. He‛d tell Chris that his phone privileges were finished. Chris deserved that. Toby dressed in the worst clothes he owned. The geeky lawyer was dead. He was just another bum now with damn little money and no prospects.

"Tobias, you look awful."

"Good." Toby didn‛t want Chris to think there was more money coming his way. "I‛ll be home late."

His mother made no answer, but he knew what she was thinking. He was always home late or not at all. The back seat of his car was the bed he slept in the most. There was no shame in that. At least he wasn‛t running over people. He hesitated before getting in his car and then impulsively called a cab. The Harley had two seats, and he wouldn‛t mind another ride. He could also drink all he wanted if he left the car home. Sitting on the trunk of his car, he called the cab company, and it wasn‛t long before he was on his way to the only address he‛d gleaned from the phone bill. He‛d call Chris from there.

"You sure you want off here?"

Toby paid him and didn‛t answer. This was a rough neighborhood, but he didn‛t look rich so he wasn‛t all that worried. He crossed the street to a bodega and leaned against the bricks to make the call. His heart was in his throat and he hoped he could say something that didn‛t sound idiotic.

"Yeah, what?" Chris sounded irritated.

Toby‛s will failed him and he shut the phone. There was nothing to say that wouldn‛t make him sound like a slut for Chris‛s dick. Because of Chris, Toby had lost his entire life. Blaming him was easy and the last thing Toby ever wanted to do was have sex with him. Never again. Toby pushed away from the bricks and started walking. He‛d find a bar and get shit-faced.

"Watch where yer going, fuckwad."

Toby pulled his head out of his ass. "Sorry." He had bumped into a big guy in a leather coat. It took a minute, but it hit him. "Wait. Chris?"

Chris stopped and slowly turned. "Go home. I got business, and you might get hurt."

Toby tried to look casual as he walked up to him. "Newsflash. I lost my home, my wife, and my kids. What you see is what I am." That was a lie, but it was damn close to being the truth.

"So?" Chris glanced over his shoulder. "Get the hell out of here."

"You going in the bodega?" Toby suddenly saw the bulge in the coat. "Oh, fuck. You‛re going to rob the place."

Chris caught him around the throat and dragged him in the alley. Toby stumbled, choked, and tried to kick him. That didn‛t work. Chris slammed him against the wall.

"Stay out of this," Chris said in a voice that was as deadly as his gun.

Stunned, Toby fought for an answer. He squeaked, "Chris, what happened?"

Chris‛s eyes were dark. "Same old shit. No money and no way to make money. I gotta do this or I‛m dead. Get it? Now get lost."

Toby‛s problems suddenly seemed inconsequential. "How much?"

"Four grand." Chris slowly turned him loose. "Why are you here?"

"Phone bill is killing me. I got fired." Toby was afraid he was babbling. "I came to tell you I‛m cutting it off."

Chris laughed, but it was a painful sound. He dug it out and threw it at him. It shattered against the wall, falling into pieces. "Happy now? Beat it and don‛t come around here again."

Toby didn‛t care about the damn phone. "I lost it all." He wanted Chris to know.

"I never had anything to lose." Chris pulled the gun out of his coat. "Give me your wallet."

Toby handed it over. He was a lot of things but stupid wasn‛t one of them. All he had was a twenty, and Chris took it. Toby didn‛t care. "Don‛t do it."

"Gotta." Chris threw his wallet back at him. "Jewelry?"

"Sorry." Toby wished he did. He frantically tried to think of a way to keep Chris from making this mistake. There had to be something. "Chris, you don‛t want to go back to prison, and you know those bodega guys always have guns under the counter."

"Then I‛ll kill him." Chris shrugged. "Toby, I‛m out of room to run. One more time: go home."

Toby shook his head. He couldn‛t. "She divorced me. That waiter was a private dick. She had pictures of us fucking. I lost my job."

"That‛s what you get for fucking around with me. I didn‛t make ya." Chris didn‛t look sympathetic. "I told ya she was going to divorce you, stupid fuck."

"You seduced me. You bent me over. Because of you, I lost it all!" Toby yelled every word. Anger beat its way through his veins and he took a wild swing at Chris‛s face. Chris ducked and shoved him back.

"Your own damn fault, ya big pussy!" Chris screamed right back at him. "You loved my dick up your ass!"

Toby rushed him, shoving him into some garbage cans that clattered. The gun hit the ground and slid under a dumpster. Chris got up fast and punched Toby in the face. Toby took it and kicked Chris in the balls.

"You fucker!" Chris slowly sank to his knees. "Get the gun. I‛m gonna shoot you!"

"Your fault!" Toby nearly hit him, but the whoop of a police siren made him freeze. Chris did too, and the cops approached them cautiously.

"What‛s the problem here?"

Toby stuffed his hands in his jeans. "My friend and I were having a discussion. No problem." He put his hand on Chris‛s shoulder and yanked him up by his jacket. Chris leaned against him and groaned something about killing him.

"We had a call there was a fight and one of you was armed." The cops weren‛t giving up. "Hands against the wall - spread ‛em."

Chris straightened up and assumed the position without asking why. Toby knew his rights, but his hesitation made them draw their guns.

"Get against the wall!" Now they were mad. Toby got next to Chris and glared at him.

"All your damn fault," Toby whispered fiercely.

"Fuck me," Chris hissed right back. The cops patted them down, but the gun was gone. Toby leaned against the wall. His life had hit rock bottom. The only direction he could go from here was up.

"Officers, you have no right to detain us. We‛ve done nothing wrong." Toby didn‛t turn until they were finished.

Chris smiled. "Listen to the lawyer. He‛ll sue your ass if you don‛t behave."

Now the cops looked confused. "You‛re a lawyer?"

"Yes, and we‛re leaving." Toby took a good hold on Chris and started walking. "Where‛s the damn bike?"

Chris wrapped his arm around Toby‛s shoulders. "I‛m going to beat the shit out of you."

The cops were watching and talking quietly. Toby knew they were trying to think of a way to hold them. He forced Chris into the bodega and they bought a soda before going back out to the street. Toby popped his open and took a long drink. It needed whiskey in it.

"Let‛s get the fuck out of here!" Chris wasn‛t quiet.

Toby lifted his hand. "Wait for it. I don‛t have a helmet. They‛re itching to arrest us for something."

"Okay. I‛ll leave. You do whatever the fuck you want." Chris went to his bike, and Toby followed him for no good reason. Words stuck in his throat again. His face throbbed and he hoped Chris‛s balls ached for a day or two.

"Chris, please don‛t get the gun," Toby said softly.

Chris straddled the bike and took a drink of his soda. "If I get caught, I‛ll be in jail. That‛s better than dead. Dead is forever."

Toby couldn‛t argue with that. "I‛ll give you the money," he said impulsively. He had it. "Please. Don‛t."

Chris snorted but then looked him over carefully. "You don‛t give one fuck about me."

"You don‛t give one about me." Toby liked that lie. He‛d repeated it often and he was glad he finally got to say it to him. "I was nothing but an easy piece of ass and money."

"You weren‛t that easy." Chris was staring at his soda now. "I had to get you drunk and high."

Toby didn‛t think that made it any better. He took another drink and tried to find some truth. "I don‛t want you hurt."

"Too late," Chris muttered. He flushed. "Sorry about the wife and kids."

"God damn, I miss them." Toby was relieved to see the police car finally leave. Before Chris could say anything, Toby got on the back and wrapped his arms around Chris‛s waist. "Let‛s go get the money and then we can talk over some food."

"Nachos?" Chris put on his helmet.

Toby laughed softly. "Why not?" He held on tight and gave quick directions to his bank. Chris didn‛t go inside with him.


Chris stared after him, tempted to ride off, get that gun, and finish what he‛d started. He didn‛t want to rob that bodega. The owner wasn‛t a bad guy, but money was money. Toby had shown up at the worst possible time - stupid lawyer. He was still a drunk and a loser, and Chris couldn‛t afford to feel sorry for him. Great sex meant nothing. The fact that Toby had helped him meant less than nothing. Life was hard, short, and brutal. It was all he knew.


Toby got on the back fast. "I thought you might leave."

"I almost did." Chris put the helmet back on. "We‛re going to a rough place. Don‛t say a damn word, and if anyone asked, you‛re my bitch."

"Can‛t wait," Toby muttered. "Guess it‛s a job, of sorts. Do I get paid?"

Chris revved the engine and didn‛t answer. Toby wrapped his arms tight and held on for dear life. This day could only get better, but he soon found out that he was wrong. It was going downhill. The cops were going to be the highlight.

"Now remember not to talk," Chris said, pulling open the door. Toby could only nod. He had wanted to stay on the bike, but he had the money. Chris bought them a beer, and they stood at the bar to drink it. The place was full of men that looked like prison was their vacation getaway. Toby did not fit in and it was only one full drink before he was staring into some guy‛s leather vest.

"Back off, Earl," Chris said in a bored voice.

"Little fucker is yours?" Earl grinned. "You always like the blonds."

Toby nearly protested that he wasn‛t small, but Chris reached and pulled him closer. Earl laughed and strutted away to the pool table.

"Shut up," Chris whispered. "You got the money?"

"Yeah," Toby breathed the word.

Chris kept him close. "We‛ll wait. It won‛t be long."

Toby had enough time to regret what he was doing, make a list of things to do, like never see Chris again, and sweat. He kept on making mistakes, and this one might see him dead.

"Let‛s see your new boy in action!"

Chris laughed. "He‛s shy."

Everyone laughed, and Toby wanted to sink through the floor. Chris had a hand around the back of Toby‛s neck and it tightened. Toby had the feeling that Chris didn‛t like his reputation as a boy lover.

"Keller! You prick! Where the fuck is my money?" some guy bellowed, coming in the front door.

Chris took another drink of beer and didn‛t look worried. Toby nearly pissed his pants. The guy swaggered over to them.

"This one isn‛t as handsome as the last."

Toby was fairly insulted.

"Does he suck dick better?"

Chris got off his barstool. "Sucks like a Hoover. You ready to do business, Bear?"

"Always." Bear got right in Toby‛s face. "Don‛t think I‛m taking him in trade. He isn‛t fucking worth what you owe me."

"Hey, fuck you!" Toby glared, but inside he was quaking. "I‛m worth a lot! Well, okay, not that much, but still."

Chris yanked Toby away and slapped him. "Shut up."

Bear suddenly started to laugh, and Toby rubbed his face. That had been uncalled for.

"Little guy has balls. Okay, Keller, where the fuck is my money?"

Chris dug in Toby‛s pants and pulled out the wad of cash. "I got it."

"I doubt it. There‛s always interest." Bear laughed. Toby saw Chris swallow hard.

Toby grabbed the money and got right in Bear‛s face. "The deal was four grand. I‛m not giving you a cent more."

Bear glowered at him. "You will if you and your boyfriend want to live. Forty-two hundred is what it‛ll cost you now."

"Does everyone know that you suck ass?" Toby asked mildly. He started counting out the money on the bar, stopping at four grand.

"Tobias, shut the fuck up," Chris growled.

"Take his advice," Bear snarled.

Toby wasn‛t intimidated. He was scared pissless, but he‛d be damned if they‛d bully him. "No one is going to borrow money from you if you change the deal at the last minute!" He glared. "Now, here‛s an extra hundred because I‛m sure that Keller was late on payment, but that‛s it!"

Bear swept the money away. "We ain‛t done."

"Fuck, yes, we are," Chris said. "A deal is a damn deal."

Toby saw that Bear was going to push it. "Bear, have you paid your child support lately?"

Bear turned the glare in Toby‛s direction. "What the fuck?"

Chris laughed and Toby knew he‛d hit a home run. "I‛m an officer of the court. What‛s your address again?" He got out his cell phone. "I‛ll tell the police where to find you."

"You little prick!"

Chris jerked Toby behind him again. "Back off, Bear. We‛re square. Don‛t push your fucking luck."

"We‛re done with you, Keller." Bear suddenly turned away. Toby picked up his beer and drained it. He belched and Chris pulled him out the door. The bike was as fast as Toby remembered and they didn‛t stop until they were in the good part of town. Chris parked carefully, shoved him off, and got too close.

"You‛re a fucking idiot!"

"He was going to keep you leashed forever!" Toby felt his knees shaking. "Next time, borrow from a damn bank!"

Chris rubbed his face and began to laugh. "You got balls, Toby. Big ones."

"Do not. I about pissed my jeans." Toby felt almost high. "Can we get drunk now?"

"You got any money?" Chris grinned.

"Yes." Toby slapped him on the back. "Nachos and beer it is." He grinned back at him. "It‛s not like we have jobs or anything."

Chris suddenly grabbed him. "Hey, thanks. You know I can‛t pay you back."

Toby pulled him closer. "For some odd reason, I don‛t want you dead." He didn‛t understand it, but nothing in his life made any sense. It was barely possible that it was one more thing he didn‛t want to lose, even though he didn‛t care. Chris‛s strong hands dug into Toby‛s shirt.

"You got crappy clothes?" Chris teased him;

Toby leaned his forehead against Chris‛s shoulder. "My life is crap. I really do blame you."

"My balls know that." Chris didn‛t turn him loose. "You know we don‛t fucking like each other."

"Yeah." Toby couldn‛t argue that. He wanted to kiss him, but that was a bad idea. Chris suddenly backed away and got on the bike. He looked almost embarrassed. Toby hesitated. He didn‛t want to look like the slut he was.

Chris grabbed him and pulled. "Get the fuck on, loser."

"Nice to be wanted." Toby made sure not to smile. He didn‛t care, and he didn‛t want to go, but he was hungry. Settling in behind him, he ran his hands under the jacket and found skin to hold. He might have heard Chris give a small gasp. It was a good sound. Toby said very softly, "Wow, we are fucked up."

Chris turned and kissed him. That did nothing but confirm it. The engire growled and they were going. Toby didn‛t know where and it scared him that he didn‛t care. Somewhere. Anywhere. He‛d be the same useless man no matter where they ended up.

Nachos and plenty of beer in a place that Toby had never been before but seemed nice enough. They sat opposite each other and the first few minutes were awkward. Chris suddenly grinned and shoved off his jacket.

"Still living in that big house?"

Toby shook his head. "Had to sell it and give her half. As you might have mentioned, she took me to the cleaners."

"Should‛ve stopped drinking." Chris was being an asshole.

"Right. Like you would‛ve." Toby snorted. "Anyway, it was the pictures that made her give up. Something about my mouth around your cock."

Chris licked his lower lip - the slut. "She was probably jealous."

Toby glared and tried to smack him upside the head. Chris was far too fast for that. The waitress interrupted them with food, and Toby let him eat without trying to hurt him.

"So, where ya living?" Chris‛s mouth was full of food, but it didn‛t stop him from talking.

"With my fucking parents," Toby mumbled around a bite of cheeseburger. "Sucks. Especially since I was fired."

Chris put his foot against Toby‛s under the table. "Why?"

Toby chased his food with some beer. "My boss, turns out, is my wife‛s Godfather."

"Damn." Chris was making progress on the nachos between them, so Toby ate a few before they were gone. Toby had a list of complaints about his life as long as his arm, but no one was trying to kill him and he did have a roof over his head so he shut up about it. Chris was thin and had dark circles under his eyes that suggested he wasn‛t sleeping.

"Still with that Bonnie woman?" Toby had been curious about that since he‛d woken up alone.

Chris choked a little, took a drink of beer, and cleared his throat. "Ex-wife number three. She threw me out, but let you sleep. If I didn‛t love her, I‛d choke her to death."

Toby laughed softly. He shouldn‛t be thinking about that night on a mattress, but he was, and he had been on and off since it happened. Strangly enough, there was no shame about it, only an ache. He almost reached over and brushed his hand down Chris‛s arm. Chris gave him a crooked grin.

"What now?" Chris asked quietly. "You gonna have another go at my balls?"

"Don‛t tempt me. If you . . . ah, fuck it." Toby wasn‛t going to re-hash it all. He‛d screwed it up. His wife had left him for good reason. It had just been a matter of time. "What about you? Working?"

"Me?" Chris raised his eyebrows. He caught Toby by the hand. "I‛m still nothing but shit. I robbed you at gunpoint earlier, remember?"

"Yeah. It was sweet. Like old times." Toby laughed at the expression on Chris‛s face. "Prick."

Chris laughed with him. "Hit the bank for later, okay?"

"Right." Toby grinned and went back to his food. He felt drunk and he‛d only had one beer. It was Chris. Chris made him feel out of control, and he liked it. When the food was gone, Toby had to piss and he got up from the table. "Be here when I get back?"

"Dunno," Chris said. Toby went anyway. He‛d take his chances.


"Stupid fucker," Chris whispered, and he didn‛t know if he was talking about himself or Toby. Toby was still fucked in the head, but he‛d stood up to Bear and gotten the job done. Chris wasn‛t sure he‛d have been able to do that. Toby wasn‛t a coward. He was a drunk, a liar, a fool, and one sexy motherfucker, but all of those things were no big deal.

Chris liked him. That was the problem. Would Toby try to own him? Boss him around? Threaten to tell the world that Chris Keller was a faggot? Chris ran his tongue around the lip of his beer bottle. He wasn‛t the kind of man that could be pushed - not even one inch. Toby was different. He was. Chris hoped. He‛d hate to have to kill him.


"Thought maybe you drowned," Chris growled.

Toby shrugged and sat down. First, he‛d finish his beer, and then he‛d talk. It didn‛t take long. "I was thinking."

"Thought I smelled smoke." Chris flashed a fast grin. He finished his beer also. "More beer?"

"You want to hang around here?" Toby had been drunk nearly every night this week. Something else might be nice for a change. Chris ate Toby‛s last French fry. He gave Toby a hard look.

"I ain‛t got a place right now," Chris said in such a way that defied Toby to laugh at him. "I can drop you off at Mommy‛s."

Toby flipped him off. "I‛ve been sleeping in my car."

"Don‛t fucking blame you." Chris wiped his mouth. They were both losers. That was obvious. Toby got out his wallet and paid the check. Chris just watched him. Another long look that could‛ve meant anything. Toby wasn‛t sure what to say, and he was glad when Chris got up. They went out together without a word.

Chris looked as if he might ride off. Toby waited for it. He did have some pride, but not much.

"Coming?" Chris asked.

"You offering to give me a hand?" Toby got on the back, hoping that Chris meant it.

Chris put on his helmet. No kiss this time. Two seconds later, they were going so fast that Toby buried his head in Chris‛s jacket and held on tight. Out on the interstate, there were motels and Chris passed two before pulling in and stopping. Toby went to get them a room without asking. He had enough cash, and he waved Chris over to their room. Chris didn‛t come right away, and Toby had long enough to wonder if he was being ditched.

"One thing," Chris said from the doorway, "I ain‛t no fag."

Toby knew that. He wasn‛t gay either. Well, maybe he was, but he‛d never admit it. "So what?" he asked belligerently. Vapid statements of understanding weren‛t the way to handle Chris.

Chris put his things down and shut the door. He immediately threw all the locks. "Did you like it up the ass?"

"Do you?" Toby sat on the bed and leaned back on his arms. He couldn‛t help but wonder if there were condoms in that duffel bag. Chris knelt, unzipped the bag, and pulled out a bottle of rotgut. Toby went to get ice. He didn‛t want to get drunk, but his veins demanded a certain percent of alcohol at all times.

Chris served the drinks, and after a brief hesitation, they clicked glass. "We‛re fucked."

"So fucked," Toby said and drank it down. "Let‛s leave town," he blurted. He meant it, but he didn‛t. His parents would throw a fit, and he wasn‛t brave enough to go against them.

"Sounds good." Chris tossed his jacket on a chair. "I got fifteen bucks."

Toby took another drink and skimmed his hand down Chris‛s arm. "My fifteen bucks." He laughed and Chris gave him a small shove.

"Dickhead." Chris put his glass down. He turned on the TV, and for some reason, Toby couldn‛t take his eyes of Chris‛s fingers. He finished his whiskey, stuck a finger through one of Chris‛s belt loops, and pulled. Chris groaned. "What is it with you?"

"It isn‛t me. It‛s you." Toby was afraid the lust was clear in his voice.

"You oughta hate my guts." Chris didn‛t sound as if the idea bothered him.

Toby slid his other hand up inside Chris‛s shirt to rest on a wide chest. "I do, and you hate me because I have money."

"You‛re right," Chris whispered. He snaked his head around fast and put his forehead against Toby‛s. They leaned on each other, neither of them talking. Chris put his hand on Toby‛s side and Toby slowly wrapped him into a long kiss. The light bulb in the lamp popped out, casting them in light and shadow. Toby gently thrust his tongue inside Chris‛s mouth, and Chris greedily sucked it. The bed seemed very far away, but they made it, scrambling to get out of their clothes and still kiss each other.

"Condoms?" Toby whispered, hating to break the mood with words.

Chris got them, and Toby yanked him down on top. They practically smacked together, but Chris just grinned and humped him. Kissing and shoving, they rolled over a couple of times and nearly fell on the floor. Toby wasn‛t sure they‛d have noticed if they had.

"I gotta fuck you," Chris panted.

"Me first," Toby demanded. His dick throbbed and nearly spurted at the idea.

Chris groaned, but he didn‛t say no, and then Chris‛s talented mouth was heading right for Toby‛s dick. Toby was glad to see it. That was a good way to start because he knew they‛d be doing this all night long.

Half the night was a blur of hot hands, hotter tongues, and bodies shoving. He‛d never forget that exquisite moment when he shoved deep in Chris‛s ass. Pushing, grunting, he came so hard that he lost consciousness for a few seconds. Chris wasted no time. Toby woke up on his stomach with Chris getting ready to fuck him. It was a shock, and he loved it, and they rocked the night away. 


Chris woke up suddenly, unsure of where he was, but it all came back to him when he saw Toby. Toby was curled up around a pillow, snoring lightly. Chris watched him for a minute before getting up. It was time to leave. Get the hell out of here. It was what he did. This was nothing. Toby was nothing. Chris rubbed his face and went to piss. It wasn‛t that damn simple any longer. He wished it was. Bonnie was right. He was a fool.

"Chris?" Toby sounded worried. Chris stayed just out of sight. Toby groaned. "Damn it. Why did he leave?"

Chris never let people touch him deep. It was too dangerous. But, but, oh fuck. He stepped out and crawled back on the bed. "Miss me?"

"Thank God." Toby grabbed him and held on tight. Chris didn‛t understand. He skimmed his hand through Toby‛s hair and kissed him.

"I‛m here."

Toby smiled and made sure they were tucked together. "Good."

Chris swallowed a huge lump in his throat. Toby didn‛t know. He didn‛t understand, and telling him was impossible. Chris whispered, "I should go. I‛m not a nice guy."

"Neither am I." Toby still had his eyes shut. "Go, if you want, but I won‛t forget you."

"Fuck." Chris kissed him again. This wasn‛t going to work out, and one of them might end up dead, but he couldn‛t run away like he usually did. He buried his face and wished he were stronger.

Toby tightened his grip. "Don‛t worry."

Chris pretended he was asleep. He‛d go along until Toby ditched him. It would be easier that way.


"Fuck me again," Toby said into Chris‛s ear, knowing that would wake him up.

Chris didn‛t open his eyes, but he rolled on top and starting humping. It was damn funny, and Toby laughed, and he was glad when Chris joined him.

"You are a slut," Chris muttered. "And I like it."

Toby pinched Chris‛s nipples. "Shut up, cunt." He couldn‛t get enough of this man. It was worrisome. Would he be like this with every man he slept with? He frowned and groped at Chris‛s cock. It wasn‛t hard. Maybe it was just Chris. That was easier to live with than any other answer.

Chris kissed him hard. "You better run home to Mommy and Daddy."

"Fuck me." Toby turned him loose and went to piss. He didn‛t want to go home. "Hey, come shower with me!"

"I thought we were gonna fuck." Chris was complaining, but he got in the shower. Toby rolled his eyes. If either of them had any come in their dicks, it was a miracle. He soaped himself good before sharing. Chris didn‛t seem to mind. He looked half-asleep. Toby almost wished he had a job or a wife to give him an excuse to leave. He felt awkward. As if whatever he said would be wrong. There was only one thing he did know for sure. He didn‛t want to lose Chris and that was damn scary.

Chris snapped off the water. "Get all the spunk out of your ass?"

"Not funny." Toby hit him with a towel. "I say we go eat."

"And then what?" Chris looked away after he said it. "What the hell is the plan here?" he yelled.

Toby almost took a step back from the anger. "We get drunk and fuck again. Every day for the rest of our lives."

Chris looked right at him and then laughed. "Ambitious, ain‛t ya? What about money?"

"I got just about enough to last us a week." Toby grinned, feeling stupid. "Then we‛ll start hitting banks."

Chris threw some clothes at Toby. "You know how many times a guy like you would take it up the ass in prison?"

"More than once, I‛d bet." Toby would admit it was a bad plan, but he felt wild this morning, slightly crazy. He dressed quickly and made sure he had his wallet and keys. Chris was doing the same. They beat it out the door to the bike, and Toby had a thought. "I need a helmet."

"I know a place." Chris suddenly crowded him, holding him with a fist. "I don‛t need you."

Toby licked his lower lip and looked down at Chris‛s dick. "Liar. But it‛s okay. I like liars." He giggled and wished he were more of a man. "Take me home."

"You mean it?" Chris turned him loose with a shove.

"Yes." Toby got on the back. He felt almost giddy, almost dangerous, almost as if he knew what he was doing. "Fast."

Chris nodded, and they were going. Toby had enough time to look over his life again and hate every minute of it. Every minute until he‛d run over Chris Keller. Chris pulled up in front. "Get the fuck off."

Toby reached, turned the key, held on tight, and got off before Chris could stop him. "Come on."

"Fuck you. Fuck that. No fucking way!"

"Chicken?" Toby stuffed the keys in his pocket. "Take a chance, Chris. For once in your life, take a chance."

Chris came right to him and poked him in the chest with a hard finger. "My life is nothing but chances."

Toby shook his head. "No. You do the same shit, every day, every year. Today, this day, let‛s do something crazy."

"What the fuck did you snort while I was sleeping?" Chris grabbed for the keys, but Toby made it to the front door. They went in together, arguing and not quietly. Toby glanced over at his mother and kept moving towards his bedroom. Chris saw her and stopped cold. "Toby, I‛m going to kill you."

"Probably not in front of my mother." Toby laughed. "Mom, this is Chris." He‛d never called her that before, but her eyes couldn‛t get any wider. "I‛m taking your advice."

"Toby, who is this man?"

Toby and Chris both looked at the stairs. "Hi, Dad. This is Chris. We‛re leaving. I‛m going to pack a bag. I‛ll call you when we get to California."

"What?" Three people asked simultaneously. Toby laughed. He was out of control and he loved it. Chris was almost shrinking in on himself, faced with Toby‛s parents.

"Chris and I are going to California. I promised him we would. We don‛t really like each other and we might kill each other but we‛re going." Toby stopped talking, grabbed Chris, and went for his bedroom. "Help me pack."

Chris said nothing until the door was shut. "You stupid fucker."

"That‛s me." Toby grabbed a bag and started loading it, ignoring the look of pure hatred. He had a feeling he‛d be seeing a lot of it over the next months. "Chris, if you don‛t take me, I‛m hitchhiking, but I‛m getting the fuck out of here. You have anything keeping you here? You have anyone that makes you want to stay?"

Chris‛s face was ashen. "You making me?"

Toby laughed. "Like anyone makes you do anything. Are we going or not?"

"No." Chris opened the door. "You can fucking walk." He was gone quickly. Toby suddenly had a thought, if he were walking, he should get a backpack, and he was sure he had one somewhere. He dug around in his closet until he found it and he loaded it up quickly.

"Son, what the hell is going on? Who was that man?"

Toby turned to face his parents. "I‛m leaving. I‛m going to San Diego to see my kids. I‛ll call." He made sure he had his charger. "You mind paying the bills while I‛m gone?"

"Is that man going to hurt you?" his mother asked. "He looked dangerous."

"That man . . . is my lover." Toby didn‛t say it to hurt them, just to make them understand. He raided the bathroom, made sure he had all his credit cards, and faced their stunned silence. "I‛m going."

"Tobias," his father said softly, "do you know what you‛re doing?"

"No, but I never do. I always screw it up. This time, I‛m doing what I want. At least I‛ll get some satisfaction out of that!" He put on his most comfortable walking shoes and slung on the backpack. "Bye. I love you."

They got out of his way. Neither of them spoke until his hand was on the doorknob. He knew they loved him, but it was nice to hear one more time before he left. Pausing, he put his keys in the mailbox. Fuck the car. He‛d get there on his own, but his eyes were searching for Chris. Chris wouldn‛t let him down. Toby walked towards the end of town where he knew the bus station was, block after block, and every step he shed more disgust and hatred. He was free.

"You stupid fuck!" Chris pulled up beside him and yelled over the bike‛s roar. "You don‛t know what the fuck you‛re doing!"

Toby got on before his ride disappeared. He ran his hand through his hair, determined to do this, no matter the cost. "I‛m going to need a helmet. We got gas?"

"Enough to get us going," Chris grumbled. "I think this is a bad idea."

"It is. Let‛s go anyway." Toby ran his hands up under Chris‛s leather coat. "I love you."

Chris stared at him. "Fool." He revved the engine and Toby watched the asphalt go by under the tires. Mistake? Definitely. But he no longer cared. His life couldn‛t get any more fucked up than it was. Chris understood that. It was barely possible that somewhere they‛d find a place of their own. Toby held on tight.


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