Chapter Text
I hear the door open again, and there are two sets of feet making noise, but one's too light and the other's too hesitant to be my brooding twin. Damn. I liked fucking with him. Keeping my eyes closed, I acknowledge the female cop, 'cause I know it throws her to be identified by her footsteps. I squint at her through one half-opened eye. The other person hasn't said anything, so maybe it's just someone Stabler's got babysitting his partner while she goes in for another whack at mean ol' me.
But then she tells me my lawyer's here, and that sure gets my attention, 'cause it's not like I've been calling anyone from in here. And whatthefuckdoyouknow… it's Beecher. What must be an enormous smile crawls over my face; I can't help it, it's too perfect. We stare at one another like hungry dogs lookin' at a nice, juicy steak. Faintly, I hear the door close but Toby doesn't move for another couple of minutes. This time he's staring like he's memorizing my face. And there's a bunch of stuff written right across his open, baby face: wonder, determination, lust. So I play it like I knew he'd be there all along, 'cause he's dressed to impress and the look in his eyes says that he could be my ticket outta here.
"'Bout time you showed up, Beecher." I keep it light, but I think I know why he's here, what spurred him to come find me.
"Oh yeah? You've been expecting me?" He asks me in this controlled tone.
I shrug. "Told you I'd see you again, Tobe." I wait patiently while he seems to relive our last goodbye. "Knew you'd come for one of us." I wink at him. "Just wasn't sure it'd be me." I drop that last bit quietly, just letting him know that I know. On cue, he flushes and his mouth falls open, then closes again just as quick.
Then he tells me the upstanding, hospitable officers aren't able to charge me with anything and we should go. Thank Christ. I know I'd do okay in jail, but it's not something I'm jonesing to try out. I shove the chair back and stand up, looming over him. But he's not looking at my face. I let my fingers trail down near my fly and oh yea, he's still my bitch. I grin at him when he realizes what he's doing, step around to his side of the table, lean down and whisper in his ear. "Or we could stay here a while longer, if that's what you really want, Toby. Jailhouse kink?"
The thought of both of us in jail, in the same cell, holding his body up against the bars, letting everyone know he's mine – mmm, that sends a delicious shiver down my back and it's makin' me hard.
My prey smiles weakly. "What I really want is to get out of here."
Yea, Tobe, you're not meant for prison. I mean, he even looks out of place at the station house, in his thousand-dollar suit and even more expensive watch, reminding all these cops that he's the one making the big bucks freein' dirtbags like me while they twiddle their thumbs.
I look him up and down. "Your wish is my command. Let's go."
We're standing in the hall waiting for the elevator and he's starting to look the same way he did when we met: flushed, rumpled, and thirsty. For me? 'S not like I'd discourage that kinda craving, so I keep my mouth shut and let the tension build. Then we're in some other hallway that leads away from the main entrance and I smile, 'cause I know why we're going the long way around. Anybody you're tryin' to avoid, there, Tobe?
But Beecher's strategy didn't turn out the way he'd thought it would, 'cause right up ahead of us stands Stabler, radiating anger and betrayal. Yea, he's pissed because Toby sprung me, and because he knows in his heart that this man is mine. He's gonna have to find himself another bitch to sniff around. Not my fault he didn't have what Toby needs. I don't give a shit how much he looks like me, if he thinks he's gonna get another taste, I'll let him know he's mistaken right before I kill him. Maybe I'll fuck him, too, just so he understands that there's no comparison, none at all.
Time to remind Toby of his place, too. He starts to slow down when he sees Stabler, so I lean over and whisper, "That your cop?" I pause long enough for a blush to start workin' its way up his neck. "Yea, thought so." I grin a little bigger now. He's got good taste, I'll give him that. But he's still gonna pay for this.
I'm not interested in some slap and tickle catfight though, and I walk right past the door like that sexy bastard ain't even there. I hear Tobe sighing with relief as we keep walking. Huh. Trying to hide the new boyfriend from the old? Screw that. I brush my hand down Toby's back and then onto his ass and squeeze. He squirms, but I'm not letting go. He turns his head to look at me just as I glance back over my shoulder at Stabler and smirk. Fuck you, Detective. Not yours. Mine.
***
The sunshine feels good on my face and being out in the fresh air makes me want to whoop for some dumb reason. But then Toby turns on me, his face scrunched up and anger in his eyes. I guess I wasn't supposed to bait our good friend Stabler like that – I mean he is practically family now, having screwed around with Beecher. Seems Toby thinks I'm possessive, like he knows the half of it. I narrow my eyes at him. He made his choice, what's the problem? And he can't tell me he ain't happy to see me, 'cause I know what I saw in the police station, and he wouldn't be here in the first place if he wasn't.
I sling an arm over his shoulder and draw him close so he can't move away. I know deep down I've got him to thank for getting me away from the cops, so I whisper to him like a lover. I know he's happy to see me; I just gotta make him admit it. His fury drains away fast and he sighs loudly, sounding regretful. You're right, Tobe, it is all kinds of fucked up, but that's kinda what I like about it. Out of all the times for him to be tucked away at his place watching TV, he picked whatever channel my story was on. And that's gotta mean something.
He suggests getting something to eat and it wasn't until right then that I realized I haven't eaten in at least a day. I needle him a little, 'cause in that get-up I know he can afford to take me anywhere I wanna go.
***
I can see the gears in Toby's brain turning and clicking; he's thinking too hard about what he's doing and, more importantly, who he's walking the streets of New York with. I mean, he barely knows me, other than I'm a great fuck, and probably that I'm a dangerous guy, which isn't too far from the truth. It's not like I need him or anything, though it'd be nice to have somewhere to crash tonight and even better if it's in my attorney's bed.
I sweet talk him right into an alley and push him up against the grimy wall. His lips form a little 'o' with the impact and I lean forward and shove my tongue inside his mouth. Mmmm, Toby. I'd forgotten how soft his hair feels under my fingers and how kissing him makes me light-headed. I don't need reminding about how this man makes my dick hard though, so I tell him that, pressing kisses to his neck and sucking on his lips between words. Now that I've warmed him up, I reach for his cock and touch him through his pants. Either he hasn't had sex in a long time – and I can almost feel the hairs on the back of my neck bristle at the thought of anyone else touching what's mine – or he's just as caught up in whatever this is between us as I am.
Breaking off from the kiss, I stare at his face, taking in the heat showin' on his cheeks, long eyelashes and parted lips. Never thought I'd describe a man as pretty… and he's not, exactly, 'cause he's still lean and hard, and there's a glimpse of something wild in his eyes. We stare at each other until he slams himself forward and then we're kissing again, his body shivering under my hands.
Toby breaks the kiss this time to gasp out that he's happy to see me and I grin. Told ya. And now that he's said so out loud, it makes it even more real. I push my hips against his so our dicks can get reacquainted and then it's a free for all, our tongues sliding together and groping hands and Toby's breaths are short and labored. I think he might be close to coming in his five-hundred-dollar suit pants so I step back. I don't have a problem with him riding my thigh to an explosive orgasm in public, but he might see it differently; anyway, I'd rather see him shaking and moaning while lying spread-eagled on his bed.
Words come out of my mouth before I have time to make sure they're the right ones, and I actually hold my breath while he thinks about his answer, because I can list the times I've made myself vulnerable like this. I hope to hell he remembers what the fuck I'm talking about, since it's been a couple of months and why do I remember our first encounter with such clarity anyway? But I'm saved, because he does know, and he gifts me with a huge smile that makes me want to fuck him right here.
***
We stop under a sign that reads Union Square in big neon letters, so I'm expecting a diner or something, but inside there's honey-colored wood on the floor and the standard white tablecloths. Toby's all dressed up, so he fits right in, but I'm standin' here in jeans and a stained sweatshirt like a goddamn garbage man… and I probably reek like one, too. I'm not surprised that the hostess's expression changes when she spots me, but it does surprise me that she doesn't pull a tie out of Lost and Found for me to slip over my hoodie. And it's really no big shock that she's tight with Toby, and while I get a fake smile, he gets the real deal. She chatters at him while leading us up a couple of steps to a table by the windows, and is still jabbering even after I grab the menu from her hand. Yeah I'm cranky; I just spent all night in a little room getting harassed and tryin' to stay out of jail. Finally, Toby gets her to shut up by ordering a couple of beers and then I'm sorry she's gone, 'cause now it's too quiet.
He looks up and we study each other for a minute, and then he bites his bottom lip and shifts in his chair. I glance at the menu – which is full of words like lemon zest and ginger-mustard glaze – and notice they're getting away with charging fifteen bucks for a burger. I shrug, and then tell him to order for us; it's obvious he's been here before, so he knows what's good.
After our waiter comes back with the beers and leaves with Toby's choices, we fumble around with small talk, but mostly we just look at each other. Maybe he's trying to size me up, or acting the lawyer part, but I like the way his eyes keep skipping to my mouth. I take a long pull from the beer bottle and wink when I catch him looking. And then he splays his fingers on his napkin, plucking at the corner, a small smile tugging at his lips, and baby, it's on.
Next thing I know, our waiter's hovering, asking if we want dessert or coffee, and Toby's fingers are rubbing lightly on the back of my hand and neither one of us even look at the guy when Beecher asks for the check. Except I don't know where to take him, 'cause my wallet's pretty light, and I won't be getting any more cash until I get in touch with some friends… and they're not the kind of guys I want to introduce to Toby. So I have to invite myself over to his place, only make it sound like it's his idea. It's obvious he wants me; the way I've been working him up and then slowing things down's gotta come to a head sometime.
Outside, Toby hails a cab. He turns to ask me where I'm staying, and about twenty places run through my head – at a friend's, not sure yet – but when he asks, all I can muster up is a blank face and a bored shrug. He looks at me harder and then shakes his head, gives the driver an address, and pulls me into the backseat behind him.
It's not like there isn't plenty of room in the back of the cab, but our legs are pressed up close and when Toby grips my thigh, I feel a little out of control, and that never happens, no matter who I'm with. I'm fucking impressed when he tells me in a low voice that I can stay with him as long as I need, 'cause it's not like we're old buddies or nothing. Toby's either the most accepting person or the most foolish bitch on the planet. For some reason I don't wanna make him feel stupid or used, but all the same, I gotta get back into control, 'cause there's nobody to trust but me.
***