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This part was written as a gift (?) for morgared whose birthday was yesterday... Bon anniversaire! J'espère que tu aimeras...

Of course, everyone can read it!

 

Beecher was with a fucking woman. From where he stood, Keller had a perfect view of them both. Beecher wore a suit and a dark tie, his hair was carefully brushed, his skin slightly tanned. The bitch rested a gloved hand on Beecher's arm, the touch as light as a butterfly but proprietary all the same – women know how to do that, Keller thought. She was pretty and elegant with dark hair and a fair skin, dressed in a perfect suit. Nice legs, nice ass. Keller felt panic flare at the way she threw her head back, laughing at something Beecher told her, then nestling against him like a kitten. Fucking bitch. Then he saw the taxi stop in front of them. She opened the door and disappeared inside; Beecher stood there for some more seconds, looking blank, as if waiting for something to happen that would take him away.

Good, that, Keller thought, with the unerring instinct of the hunter he was. He's not happy. Good. It would be easier to seduce him back, then, once he got the bitch out of the picture.

He followed them on his bike through the heavy traffic of a mild evening of June along the streets of Cambridge as far as a trendy restaurant downtown. He watched as she took his arm again and guided him, her eyebrows furrowed in attention. They walked up the stairs and the wide hall swallowed them.

Fuck. Keller could not very well follow them there; not dressed in worn jeans and a leather jacket that had seen better days. When a cop waved him away, he turned the bike around and rode back to his apartment, eight miles further, near the University and the gardens that smelled of roses and wisterias. Throwing the keys on a cupboard and his leather jacket on the floor, he dropped into a smooth leather armchair and closed his eyes, listening to the muffled sound of the traffic ten floors below.

Seeing Beecher had been... Something. Keller had feared maybe he would be disappointed, that the blissful memories of their two days together had idealized the memory he kept of Tobias Beecher. What would he do if he felt nothing at all when confronted to the man who had haunted him for the last two years? It didn't fucking bear thinking about.

But Beecher had looked exactly like Keller remembered him. A bit slimmer, maybe. His hair a dark blond. His skin – Keller wanted to touch it, feel how warm and smooth it felt under his fingertips. He remembered that the skin on the inner side of Beecher's thighs and arms had felt like living silk. Undoing his jeans, he stroke himself lazily, thinking of how it had felt to have Beecher, how it had felt to guide him through the corridors of the hotel toward his room, how it had felt to have Beecher's fingers tracing his face, Beecher's own face all scrunched up with focus.

"I hate jerking off," he whispered, wiping himself clean with his shirt before heading to the shower.

It was late already and the moon was high when he emerged from the bathroom. Opening the glass doors of the huge terrace, he went to sit outside between the potted orange trees and poured himself a glass of Bourbon.

"You should do something about this... obsession," Bonnie had told him three weeks ago with mild exasperation as they were working together on the set of their new movie. "Before you start losing it."

He had given her a dirty look. "Does it affect my job?"

"No. You still have this sixth sense about what people want to see... We have the hottest possible boys and girls and breathtaking sex scenes. It's as good as porn can be. But I'm worried about you."

With a shrug, Keller had said, "I don't see what the fuck you mean."

She had closed her eyes, shaking her head. "We were married once, remember? It's not like you to fall for every blind man who crosses your way. And fuck, Chris, you even have become a member of a club for partially sighted people. How does that sound?"

"It's a new kink of mine."

She looked at him for a moment, assessing him – he looked away under her shrewd gaze. "I don't think so, Chris. Two years are a long time for a kink."

She was right, of course; Bonnie was always right when it came to him. She knew him better than anyone else, probably better than he knew himself.

"You're still thinking about that man you met in Switzerland."

Yes, he had to admit he was. A lot.

So he had flown to Cambridge, United States. Through old friends who worked there, he had learned that Beecher was still teaching law at the prestigious university, which meant he was alive and coping. The thought had made Keller happy and only just that, this feeling of joy at someone else's well being, was a sign that he had it really bad.

Planning had been easy. Keller had enough money to buy a beautiful apartment just where he wanted it.

"What's important? I mean for something who sees shit, what's important about the place where he lives?"

Her name was Sandy; she was blind and very pretty. Keller had met her at the airport where she was busy piling up too many luggage on a cart. He had helped her, of course, and she had invited him for a nice dinner. The fuck had been nicer still.

Lying in her bed, propped on an elbow, he was distractedly tracing the curves of her body. She was young and sweet – but not what he needed. She shook her head. "Familiarity. Order. No sudden changes or refitting of the place; it takes time to get used to changes. A precise place for everything. Imagine how it feels to look for something in every room when you're blind. Feeling around every corner, every drawer. Last time it happened – I had mislaid my new watch - I had to call my mom for help. I hated that. Disability makes people very proud; I hate being dependant. Scents are important. Not too much furniture, so that I can walk across rooms easily. Landmarks. Textures. Music. Comfort. Tables with no sharp angles..."

Keller bent over to kiss her shoulder. "I see."

She threw her arms around him. "A fire place. I would kill to have one here, but it's impossible. There's one at my parents' house; in winter it's a real kick. The warmth, the cracking wood..."

Sandy's words had reminded Keller of that evening with Beecher in the small lounge, two years ago. There had been a fire place and Beecher had been sitting just in front of it, enjoying it.

He had sent Sandy sweetly scented flowers and a thank you card. Probably she had thought it was for the sex, but the informations she had given Keller had been much more precious than anything else.

Now the time had come to start the real game.

*************************

Katherine would remember that day as long as she would live but she did not know it yet. She had driven to Toby's house to pick him up. They were to go to the movies, have diner. She was wearing a soft woollen dress, Toby's favourite – the one he had said he liked on her because the texture was so soft under his fingers. Her hair was loose, silky to the touch. It was a date; she had no doubt about it. She would wake up in Toby's bed, Toby's arms, Toby's warmth and would never leave it.

She had worked hard for it; made herself indispensable, be there, always, when Toby was feeling down, when he needed someone to listen to him, help him with the practicalities of life that had become so complicated. Accompanied him to the park or the zoo with the kids, driven them to school. Toby had been reticent at first, annoyed even and sometimes almost rude but after almost two years of this reversed courtship, he had surrendered. Kissed her. Said that he cared for her. Held her, inhaling her perfume; talked about something that sounded like life together. Maybe he did not quite love her yet but he would, she was confident about that, confident about her ability to make him love her. Katherine had stopped believing in love at first sight when her first husband had left her; now she knew that love was something you had to conquer and struggle for, then keep alive. She did not believe in passion although, had she thought of it, maybe she would have acknowledged her own feelings as just that – passion. She wanted a quiet life with a nice gentle man who would be a companion for her whole life. She wanted him to be true and considerate. She wanted breathtaking sex with a man who would not think of himself first.

She wanted Toby.

Already smiling at the prospect of the night to come, she parked her SUV on the other side of the street and slammed the door. That's when, she saw him. Them. In the garden, just in front of her. Toby was leaning against the big willow tree, and a man was standing very close – too close, talking to him. Katherine saw Toby throw his head back and heard him laugh. She had not heard him laugh like this since the accident. The man rested a hand on Toby's shoulder and added something.

As she walked up the alley, the man turned his head and saw her. He had the bluest eyes she had ever seen, piercing and dark. He was very handsome, in a threatening way. She hated him immediately and knew that he hated her too. It was as sudden as a summer rain, this feeling of burning hate and jealousy making her stomach churn. Turning on his heels he faced her, shielding Toby from her, and saying nothing. Waiting. Watching. Assessing. A rival, she realized suddenly. This man was a rival and as much as she knew how to get rid of a female rival, she had no idea how to deal with a man's close friend, or whatever he was.

"Hi," she said. "I am Katherine."

Toby took a step towards her. The man stepped aside to let him past but did not look away; his fierce smile did not waver. "Is she your fiancée, Toby?"

Katherine turned expectantly to Toby who smiled nervously. "Not exactly," he said. The words felt like a slap across the face; she wanted to protest, but could not. "Katherine is an old friend of mine," Toby still said.

The man nodded, surveying Katherine's dress, her hair, her soft hands, and she felt naked; as if he could see through her. "A friend. I see. You two have a date; I'll leave you alone." He said. "But tomorrow, I'll buy you dinner, Toby. No fucking escaping that."

She watched him walk away, strolling like a big cat, handsome and cold and cruel... "Let's go," she said, and Toby followed wordlessly, distracted.

He was not very talkative about his friend later; he only told Katherine that they had met in Switzerland two years ago, briefly. "When I came home this afternoon," he said, "he was sitting on the couch in my parents' living room, drinking my mother's coffee. I couldn't believe it. Do you like him?"

She frowned. "I don't even know him. He looks rather rude."

Toby looked surprised. "Do you think so? I don't know. I would say he is frank and direct, but not really rude."

"You seem to like him a lot," she said, testing the waters, brushing Toby's hand with her fingers, softly. Thinking for a moment, she remembered something, a detail, some words Toby had said two years ago. She had picked him up at the airport and asked him about his stay in Gstaadt.... "Is he that porn actor you told me about once?"

She was surprised to see Toby blush. "Yes. Christopher Keller. It's him."

"It doesn't sound like a very... commendable job," she said, genuinely shocked. A porn actor. God.

Toby smiled. "He fucks people for a living. Isn't it what lawyers do, after all? Metaphorically speaking, of course."

"How can you say so? I have ethics, you know that. More than most people in my profession."

"So has he." His tone sounded clipped and final. "Listen, let's talk about something else. Tell me about your new case; you sounded quite amused about it."

Katherine was happy to talk about the job, happier still to leave a dangerous ground, although she was determined to think about it later most extensively. And Toby had a way to listen. He was so focused, with a sharp mind and a way to pick up the important detail, the one that made a difference... She could not help and leaned forward to plant a brief soft kiss on Toby's lips. "I love you," she said, scared at her own boldness. Toby did not pull her into a more passionate embrace but he did not withdraw either. "You are wonderful, Katherine," he said with a smile. "And lovable."

He would have said more, she was sure, but the waiter appeared to take their order and the spell was broken.

**************************

"So, did you fuck her?" Chris asked on the phone the next day.

"Do you care?" Toby said, happy that Chris could not see him blush.

"I don't give a shit but she certainly did. She was wetting herself just looking at you, do you know that?"

Toby snorted. "Looks like she made quite an impression on you."

"Yeah. She sure did. She looked like a snake ready to swallow you whole. She scared me shitless."

Toby laughed – Chris loved the way he laughed.

"Come to my apartment tonight. Let's have a drink together," Chris said, pushing a little to see how ready Toby was.

"Chris, it's been two years. It's a long time; things changed. I'm not sure it's a good idea."

"Fine," Chris said, heedless of the rebuff. "Then let's go somewhere with your kids. I didn't met them yet."

Toby laughed. "You'd do that? You certainly missed me a lot more than I thought, then. Forgive me if I have trouble believing it."

Chris winced. "Because of my job? Because of my job you can't imagine that I have real feelings? Sounds fucking unfair to me."

"Maybe. I mean..." He sounded pensive. "You are obviously a very attractive man. You can have anyone you want, so why me?"

Chris laughed. God, the guy was easy. "I would just like to point out to you," he said, "that you are the one who talks about having someone. I only mentioned a drink."

They had a drink. Toby looked uncertain but tempted. He let Chris take him to his apartment in the late afternoon after his job and sat down on the deep comfortable couch, looking tense. Chris sat beside him and pressed a cool drink in Toby's hand. Just enough alcohol to make him loosen up, not enough to get him drunk.

"I didn't know you had an apartment here," Toby said.

"I bought it years ago," Chris said, lying smoothly, "when I thought of taking up a job here." He stopped long enough to let Toby ask what kind of job it had been, and when he didn't, Chris went on. "It didn't work. I didn't find the right investors. The man who was supposed to buy half the share was not available." Poor Ronnie, who had been caught, sentenced to ten years and killed shortly afterwards in prison. "So I left for Europe. But I kept the place. It's nice, I like it. Wide. Quiet."

Toby turned his glass in his hands. "How big?"

"A huge terrace. Three bedrooms."

Toby laughed. "Why did you buy such a thing for you alone?"

Chris looked at Toby intently, something that of course Toby didn't see. "It was years ago. I was still under the illusion that I would marry – for good, this time. Have kids maybe. A family. Fuck, I must have been very stupid then."

At that, Toby frowned and straightened up. "Why? Why would it be stupid to want something so desirable?"

"I don't know. Never managed to keep a woman more than a year."

"I remember," Toby said. "It was this thing about sex being good at the beginning and when it didn't work any longer, there was nothing much left."

"Yeah." Chris laughed. "Funny that you remember that."

"You should try for someone who's not only in it for the sex," Toby said, putting down his glass on the table, feeling around first to make sure he would not miss it.

"Problem is, sex is all I'm good at. I never knew nothing else."

"I don't believe you. You sound like someone who's good at a lot of things, beside sex."

Chris doubted that but he didn't say it. He rose from the couch instead. "Come on, I'll show you around." Which was more like an excuse to touch Toby, take his elbow like he had two years ago, feel his warmth, the lean hardness of his body. He took him to the bedrooms first, then to the kitchen, and finally outside on the terrace where it smelled of roses and other plants Chris had bought and planted on a whim, just because it smelled good. It was mildly warm and the roaring of the town below was muted and distant. There was a bird on one of the honeysuckle who sang briefly before flying away in a soft rustle of wings. "Of course," Chris said, uneasy with Toby's silence, "it doesn't quite compare with your parents' garden, but..."

Toby cut him short. "Why did you come back, Chris?"

Taken off guard, Chris did not know what to say. "I could not forget you, no matter how hard I tried."

Toby nodded, walked to the edge of the terrace, felt around and found a bench. He sat down. "It was hard enough to let go of you. I am not sure I can do it a second time. So if it's just for fun or just some sort of game, I'd rather you let me go."

It was strange, Chris thought, the way Toby looked up after that, looked up at him like he could see him. "Believe me," Chris said, "It's no fun to be unable to get over someone and something. Especially when the something only lasted for two nights and three days. I wanted so much to see you again. I would have done anything."

Toby's smile was not mocking, just amused. "Anything? Like... Buy an apartment just for the occasion and lie to me about it?"

Ah fuck. The man was too clever and perceptive. Chris sighed. "Shit. You're good." he said. "How did you know?"

"My brother worked here. Only last year did they turn the place into an apartment building," he said.

Fine. So Toby would be more difficult to fool that Chris had expected. "But...Yeah. I guess so. Maybe I was... hopeful, too. I thought you'd like the place and want to stay. My fault. I'm such a piece of shit."

Toby didn't look shocked or disapproving. Shaking his head, he sighed. "Do you know what happened when I came back from Gstaadt? Katherine was waiting for me at the airport. I was barely able to talk to her. All I wanted was to see you again. So... I.... God. It sounds so stupid."

Chris frowned, suddenly curious. "What did you do, then?"

"I bought your movies. All of them. I found a guy in a store on my way back home. He was a real fan, you know. He knew every detail about you, kept telling me how good you were. I bought the movies and just listened to your voice."

Now, Chris was speechless. How crazy was that? "My voice?" he managed to say. "Fuck. Not that I had great dialogues, huh?"

Toby rose from the bench and stood up. "No. I can't say you had. It was just... I loved your voice. And there was an interview on one of them; God, I think I listened to it a hundred times. So, you see, I don't know. Maybe the apartment thing was not so crazy after all. But I'm flattered that you went to such expensive lengths just for a date." Now Toby was really laughing at him, but gently, a warm laugh that went straight to Chris' groin.

"I can always sell it afterwards," he said.

"Let's not be too hasty about it," Toby said with a cunning smile and Chris took his meaning immediately. Taking a step forward, he wrapped a hand around Toby's shoulder and pulled him close. Toby lay his hand on Chris' chest, against his beating heart and bowed his head. "We're crazy," he said softly; and raised his head again, a clear invitation. The kiss was soft, tentative and awkward, at least until Chris was certain that Toby wanted it badly enough and took the initiative, kissing Toby deep and long, taking his breath away, hands roaming over his back and his arms, fingers tangling in Toby's soft hair. "God I want you so much," he said against Toby's mouth, biting his lips softly. He felt Toby's hands pull his shirt out of his waistband and slide up his back, stroking, feeling, pulling him closer still and kissing again.

"Not here," Chris said.

They stumbled to the bedroom together, barely able to stop kissing, Chris guiding Toby with a sure hand, until they fell down on the bed, wrapped around each other, tearing at clothes, kissing every inch of bare skin, letting the desire grow and overwhelm them.

It took all night, this exploration and at dawn they were barely sated, but too exhausted to do much more than cuddle.

"When I heard your voice from the hall in my parents' living room," Toby said softly, showering kisses on Chris' bare chest, "I thought it was a dream. I thought I was nuts."

Chris laughed, cupped his palms around the cheeks of Toby's perfect round ass and pressed the lean body against his own. "I think I'm fucking dreaming now," he said. "I'm afraid to wake up. Will you stay with me today? I don't want to wake up alone."

Toby nodded. He called his parents and asked them to take care of the kids. Half asleep already, Chris thought that the children would be a real encumbrance, but at the moment he felt too happy to care much and let sleep swallow him – even death would have been welcome as long as he was in Toby's arms, he thought before darkness engulfed him.

tbc..

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