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drsquidloveSomeone Like You
by Dr Squidlove
drsquidlove @@@ livejournal.com
Oz/Law & Order: SVU crossover
Tobias Beecher's trying to rebuild his family in the shadow of the man he was in prison. Elliot Stabler's struggling to continue in the wake of divorce while his job eats away at his soul. It makes for an odd friendship, but it works.
Rated R for violence and explicit references to sexual violence.
Wordcount this post: 3775
Full headers are on chapter 1.
Oz is the property of Tom Fontana and HBO. Law & Order: SVU is the property of Dick Wolf and NBC. The characters are used without permission, but with much appreciation.
Someone Like You
chapter 42: Domesticated
by Dr Squidlove
Previously, in chapter 41, Focaccia:
Elliot came over to watch Toby cook steak and focaccia, almost like the old days. (With gratuitous tie-tuck.) Toby confirmed that Chris mass-murdered Aryans for him. He also confessed to killing Vern, but Elliot thought putting on a play with the guy was a bigger WTF. As Elliot got called to work, Toby did a final push for forgiveness and Elliot cracked like an egg, and they kissed, and it was good.
Olivia had her concerns, but she'll throw Elliot to the wolves as long as he comes back with a doggie bag.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
"No, I understand." The green light brought a swarm of pedestrians, and Toby dodged his way through, his lunch tucked under his arm.
"I'm sorry, Toby-"
"Stop apologising. Go and catch bad guys." Toby hung up and slid the phone back in his pocket, clutching his jacket tighter against a gust of wind as he hurried down the sidewalk. His high from kissing Elliot hadn't been touched by the first cancellation, and it had only dimmed a little with the second. Three times... Three was cold feet. Toby shouldn't have pushed him. He was back to square one.
He dodged around a pile of trash cans and looked up and sighed. Elliot would choose to cancel dinner as Toby passed by a wine store. The midday sun shone on great glass windows full of shining glass bottles with inviting labels. Toby had almost forgotten how a good Merlot tasted. He closed his eyes. A little plum; a little violet. Spices that lingered on the palate. No, he hadn't forgotten.
Nobody was going to be home tonight. No Elliot. Holly was at Kelly's, as usual.
He took a long breath. As good as it sounded, the urge wasn't overwhelming. He wasn't going to drink. He pushed on around the corner.
This was the new Toby, which meant if Elliot needed time, Toby was going to give it, and instead he could use the time for his kids. He'd been thinking of baking some cookies to send to Harry. Or he could push on with Holly's book: he'd decided to read whatever she was reading so he could prod more conversations out of her, but this one was testing his resolve. So much sighing and fainting and damsel-rescuing, it was like one of his mother's romance novels with wimpy vampires thrown in.
He wasn't going to sit around and stew about Elliot, because then he'd remember to feel guilty that he was still obfuscating significant details of his years in Oz. No, Elliot, none of the hacks laid a hand on me, but there was one who stood by and laughed as Vern Schillinger stomped on my legs. And the first thing I did when I got out of hospital was slice his face and his throat with my bare hands. Want to make love now, Elliot?
At this rate it would never matter. Elliot was going to keep postponing Toby until he stopped calling altogether. Toby sat on his usual bench. He was going enjoy the wind blowing leaves around the park, eat his sandwich, and go back to work.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The loft was filled with modernist sculptures that probably cost more than Elliot's car and you could see across the Hudson to New Jersey from the kitchen the uniforms were searching, but Elliot couldn't tear his eyes away from the massive print on the living room wall: a six foot high photo of a man in a sparkling gold dress that barely covered the distinct bulge of his crotch. The subject was standing with his bright blue high-heeled boots planted wide to show off muscular legs that Elliot was pretty sure had been waxed. The same bright blue was painted over his eyes and on long blue fingernails that were brushing back a ludicrous blonde wig as he blew a kiss at the camera.
He couldn't help seeing Toby up there, and it was making his balls crawl up inside him.
"I wonder where I can get a pair of boots like that," said Liv, appearing from nowhere.
Elliot sucked in a breath. He hadn't realised he was staring. At the six foot high photo of a drag queen. "Toby never wore a dress."
Olivia looked at him, startled. "You think I'd care if he did?"
"He didn't wear a dress. That's not the guy I know. That time in the meatpacking district... That's the only time I saw him like that."
"Why does it matter?"
Because Elliot didn't want Olivia thinking of him that way. Or thinking Elliot would get turned on by it. He hated himself for saying it, felt the shame burning in chest, but he didn't want anyone to suspect for a moment that Elliot pranced around in women's clothes, or wanted that from Toby. "Let's go talk to Cruz."
Olivia let it drop, thank god. "He's through here."
Elliot almost wished that was how Toby had dressed up. That photo was a whole different world to Toby hunched in the back of the squad car, crawling inside make up and clothes and bruises to blot himself out of existence. Elliot didn't want Olivia to think of Toby like that, either.
He'd been avoiding Toby, again. He'd thought the fire from that kiss would burn away the churn of anger and humiliation, but Keller kept crawling into his thoughts at odd moments, staring out from the eyes of a perp or shoving his way into the picture when Elliot thought of Toby at night. The hope, the hate, all of it was still sloshing around in his gut. He wanted Toby but it couldn't start like this.
Olivia led the way through to the office where a gym-chiselled guy with black slicked-back hair was scowling at the police rifling through his files. His glare sharpened when he saw her. "This is a load of crap."
"Is it?" Olivia gave him her best plastic newsreader smile. "I guess we'll find out. This is my partner, Detective Stabler."
Cruz was pacing the room, glaring at everyone and pumping his fists, desperate to tear all the cops off his stuff. It was the sort of itching restraint Elliot knew too well. Not a lot of people told this guy what to do. "Eddie's just upset about our fight. He'll drop the charges."
Olivia didn't miss a beat. "Edward's upset that you raped and beat him."
He rolled his eyes. "Why would I need to rape him? I've been fucking him for months! We have one little scrap and the little bitch is running off to the cops."
Edward hadn't called the cops. Cruz's neighbour had, and a little digging had them wondering what had happened to Cruz's last toy boy, who hadn't been seen in six months. It had taken Olivia and Elliot most of the morning to persuade Edward to press charges so they could get the warrant.
"Eddie and I love each other."
"Is that what you call it?" Olivia cocked her head. "I'll tell you a little secret. You don't hit people you love."
Elliot bit the inside of his cheek.
"Couples fight, lady."
"You don't rape someone you love."
Cruz laughed as he looked Olivia over. "Rough is what men like, Detective Benson." He purred it, sliding into her space so he could loom over her. Olivia stood her ground, unimpressed. "Straight men have to pretend to be domesticated for wives and girlfriends like you. Bring flowers and make vows and treat women like glass in the bedroom but that's not what men want. That's the great thing about being gay. We don't have to pretend. We can just fuck. Whoever, whenever. We all just want to put our dicks inside something tight and hot and pound away until we come." He turned his attention. "Are you domesticated, Detective Stabler?"
Completely. Getting more domesticated with every word he said. Elliot jutted out his chin and looked him in the eye, matching his macho. "Is that how Eddie treats you?"
"I fuck him."
Elliot lifted his shoulders, cocked an eyebrow. "Apparently he doesn't like the way you do it."
The pair of them bared their teeth in hard grins and faced off. Beneath the designer suits and the snappy wit, behind the closed doors of his fancy Chelsea loft, Elliot knew exactly who this guy was. He was the sort of guy who'd punch his lover.
"I like him," Cruz told Olivia.
"I'll bet you do." She squeezed an edge of contempt in her voice. Elliot knew she was playing along, supporting his rapport with Cruz, and she had no idea how it cut. He was more like Cruz than she imagined.
And nothing like him.
Elliot rolled his eyes at Olivia for Cruz's benefit, played the role, but he wouldn't ever see Toby the way Cruz saw other men. He didn't want to treat Toby like a hole to put his cock. He didn't want to pound away. He got off making Toby feel good. He wanted to make Toby to feel worthwhile, remind him that he deserved better than the choices he'd made in the past. Every screwed up thing that Elliot had learned about him these last few months hadn't changed that.
When he remembered the way Toby looked after that kiss, he couldn't regret it. It made him want to just let all of it go.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
"You look exhausted."
Elliot's tie was loose, top button undone, grey shirt creased like he might have been in it for a day or two. He yawned as he slid into the booth. "Long night. You look pretty tired yourself."
"I never sleep as well when Holly's away." Not unless Elliot was sprawled beside him.
Toby had been ready to give up when Elliot cancelled yesterday, had tossed and turned and cursed himself until Elliot called early this morning to say the captain was finally sending him home, and did Toby want to meet up for breakfast?
Of course he did. He was going to hang on Elliot's every mood swing until Elliot came back or walked away for good. "You worked all night?"
"We were just clocking off when a call came in." He stared in surprise as the waitress served up two plates crammed with waffles and eggs and bacon.
Toby pushed the syrup at him. "I took the liberty of ordering, figured you'd be hungry."
His eyes glowed at the food, and then he turned a smile on Toby. "God. Yes. Now tell me about something that doesn't involve grieving parents or One Police Plaza."
That smile was Toby's new heroin. It had taken months to forgive Chris for betraying him to Schillinger, and that was in the slow creep of prison time, with Said preaching forgiveness in his ear, with a confession and a stabbing and a fight with the Aryans to even the score. Toby had nothing like that to offer, so all he could do was wait. If Elliot needed to eat out at a diner, where there was no danger of anyone kissing anyone else, then Toby was going to have to be okay with that.
A few weeks ago he wouldn't have hoped for this much. Waffles and eggs and making Elliot smile as he talked about Emilio having to break up a fight between buyers at an auction earlier in the week. Watching Elliot's tongue dart out to catch the pancake syrup glistening on his lips
Toby wanted to reach across to touch Elliot's thigh, slide his hand up and see if he could still make him hard, but that could wait. Toby wasn't going to push him again, even if sometimes Elliot's gaze seemed to linger. It was probably wishful thinking. Toby had gone back to get tested for STDs, just on the outside chance.
They took their time with breakfast: slow, ordinary conversation like they hadn't had since the summer. Elliot didn't talk as much, but he seemed happy to listen, so Toby made him chuckle with a summary of all the worst highlights of the godawful vampire book he'd read cover to cover to keep up with Holly. Elliot wiped syrup from his chin and crumpled the napkin in his hands, still grinning. "I may nominate you for father of the year. Was it worth it? Did you at least get a good bonding experience out of it?"
Toby huffed. "I brought it up at dinner on Wednesday, asked what she thought. She told me it was so horrible she gave up after twenty pages."
Elliot burst out laughing, and Toby watched, rapt. It was worth every page he'd read just for this.
When Elliot calmed, he sipped his hot chocolate. "How are things with her? How are those friends of hers?"
"We'll see. I'm getting to know their parents."
"You should have the kids over. Host a sleepover, get to know them. That's how Kathy knew all of our kids' friends."
Toby wasn't sure how those wealthy girls would feel about Holly's poky little apartment, or what their parents would say about a single father hosting. "Maybe." He could only imagine what they'd say about an ex-con babysitting their daughters.
They finished their plates and lounged back, both of them rubbing their bellies. Toby wanted to stretch this out, talk about anything that kept Elliot in view, but Elliot had worked all through the night and he was sitting in a daze. This was the perfect time to practise that patience Toby had been planning. He put a hand up for the check.
"Are you going to be all right to drive home?" Toby wanted to offer his bed for Elliot to sleep in, but didn't know how to make that not sound like an invitation for sex. It would be. If there was the slightest chance Elliot would let Toby spread him out on his bed, let Toby breathe him and taste him, then Toby would write the invitation on one of these napkins in his very best cursive.
Elliot blinked and refocused, picked up his cup and drained his hot chocolate. "I'm awake." He fished out his wallet to pay his half, and followed Toby out of the diner into the chilly morning.
Damp lingered in the air from rain in the night. Toby paused at the sidewalk, but Elliot kept walking, headed left. Toby didn't know if his car was parked this way or he was coming to Toby's apartment. Hope kept his cock half-hard in his pants; fear kept him quiet, eyes on the ground. He didn't want to screw this up.
Only a block to Toby's apartment, but the air was cool and sharp, and Elliot was within reach, their footsteps - faster than before - landing in time in the soggy leaves. Toby tugged his coat closer, scanning the parked cars for Elliot's blue Taurus, or anything that looked like it might be from the motor pool.
Elliot stuck with him all the way to Toby's stoop, steps slowing as they approached. Toby was searching for excuses to drag this out, trying to compose an unthreatening suggestion that Elliot come upstairs and sleep, when a hand caught his elbow. He looked up in surprise. Elliot's intense gaze made Toby's cock heavier.
"I want to come up."
"Are you sure?"
Elliot's fingers played over the buttons of Toby's coat. "Do you really want me to reconsider?"
"No." Toby wanted to kiss him, right here. He hurried up the steps, fumbled his key into the door.
That was what Elliot meant, wasn't it? 'I want to come up and kiss you,' or 'I want to come up and fuck you,' not 'I want to come up and talk about why you'll never see me again.' Toby looked back over his shoulder as they climbed the stairs, tried to interpret the top of Elliot's head, the angle of his shoulders, and then he tripped up the top step and Elliot reached for him, lightning reflexes.
"Are you all right?"
Toby breathed slowly, leaning shamelessly into the grip on his arm. "You tell me."
"Come on." Elliot nodded towards Toby's door, so Toby led the way in and closed it behind them.
"I've missed you, Elliot." Not Chris.
"I've missed you."
They stared at each other, the moment so serious it made Toby smile. As soon as he did Elliot stepped forward, smoothing his hands over the lapels of Toby's coat, and then reaching around to pull him closer. Leaning closer still. Toby could taste Elliot's breath on his tongue, feel the rough prickle of a chin in need of a shave. He ached to drag Elliot tight against him, let Elliot feel how badly Toby wanted him, but he waited, lips holding barely an inch away. This had to come from Elliot. Toby needed to know that Elliot wanted him.
Patience wasn't Toby's strong suit. "Tell me what you need."
A tongue tripped over Elliot's lips. "I want to touch you."
Toby reached up for the knot of Elliot's tie. Slowly undid it, slid it out of his collar and dropped it, right by the door. "Don't make me wait any longer."
And then Elliot kissed him, just how Toby wanted it. Hard mouth and grabby hands, heavy breaths and barely-contained growls, never breaking the kiss as he edged Toby towards the bedroom while shoving off Toby's coat and toeing off his own shoes, a few more steps and then he worked up Toby's long-sleeve shirt and undershirt in one bunch, dragging them up and over, snorted as he untangled them from Toby's ears. He dropped them on the floor and didn't argue when Toby stripped Elliot's coat and tossed it over the couch as they passed. He breathed a nervous chuckle when Toby fumbled with his buttons, yanked the shirt off himself and tossed it aside and then Elliot pressed Toby against the door jamb, bare chest to bare chest at last, and his hands dragged over Toby's body, feeling his ribs and rubbing circles on his lower back, pulling his hips close so Toby could feel his cock press. Elliot's tongue swept through Toby's mouth, and his teeth teased Toby's lip, and he only paused to mutter a 'yes' when Toby's thumbs flicked at the button of his fly.
Catharsis was making Toby's head spin like a first-class high. Contained desire, gentle hunger, safety. No games. Elliot was here because he wanted Toby, and Toby never, ever had to doubt that. He wished he could make Elliot feel the same. He unzipped him and slid his hands behind, pushing down the suit pants until he had two great handfuls of Elliot's tight ass.
He shoved Elliot's pants down and held him as Elliot stepped out of them and took off his ankle holster, eyes tracking from Toby's face over his body. A few steps further, and Elliot's hands were opening Toby's pants. Toby tried to kick them off and lost his balance, realised he'd forgotten his shoes as Elliot caught him and tumbled him onto the bed.
Toby laughed and Elliot grinned, and suddenly the desperation was broken. Toby lifted his feet in the air so he could reach to pull off his shoes and socks and pants, and when he was finally naked he rolled on his side, dragged his toes along Elliot's calf. "We have all morning." He dared to add, "If you're really here, and not planning to change your mind again."
Elliot stared into his eyes. "I didn't change my mind."
"Your job gives you plenty of opportunities to postpone conversations."
"You noticed that, did you?"
Toby just raised an eyebrow. He wasn't going to corner Elliot into lying that all those delays had been out of his hands.
Elliot cupped Toby's cheek. "I'm here now."
Toby kissed him hard, felt Elliot's fingers in his hair. He didn't deserve this but he was going to hold on so fucking tight. No more screw ups. He buried his face in Elliot's neck and breathed, not relaxing until Elliot's strong arms surrounded him. Just this was enough. Kissing and touching, letting their cocks ride the anticipation. Knowing Elliot still wanted him.
Elliot nudged his face out and pressed his lips to Toby's.
Toby lost track of time, in the warm haze of slow kisses and comfortable silences, half-hard but in no hurry to do anything about it. Elliot wanted him. Toby was going to make sure he didn't regret this.
Elliot kissed along Toby's sides, from his ribs to the points of his hip bones, sending a shiver through him. A line across the fronts of his thighs, tender patterns that seemed random until Elliot rolled Toby onto his stomach and let his lips drift over the place where a fist to his kidney had left him wincing for a week. These were all the places he'd been bruised that night. Only now Toby realised Elliot had started at the side of his mouth, at the long-healed split, lumping his own damage in with everything left by the men of Franco's. Toby rolled over and pulled him close, wished he could explain how different-
There was a thunk and Toby sat bolt upright, brain not catching up until he heard-
"Dad?" Shit.
He jumped out of bed and snatched a pair of shorts out of the drawer, threw a second pair at Elliot and yanked on a t-shirt, grateful that panic had wilted him. He yanked on sweatpants as well, would have thrown on a jacket and scarf to cover himself if he had time, but as he stepped into the doorway he realised how ridiculous he was being. Holly was standing inside the front door, in a pile of men's clothes that led all the way to the socks at Toby's feet.
"What's he doing here?"
Toby looked back over his shoulder but Elliot was still on the bed, sheet in his lap, frozen like a sprung teenager.
Holly snatched up Elliot's tie. "He hit you!"
Toby flinched, knowing Elliot heard that. He started collecting clothes, not bothering to sort it, filling his arms all the way to the tie Holly was clutching. He tugged it, but she wouldn't let go. "Give me a moment, okay?"
"He hit you," she said urgently, like he might have forgotten, which he almost had.
"I know." He pulled the tie out of her hand. "Let's get him out of here and we'll talk about it." He fetched Elliot's shirt off the lamp. When Toby came back to dump the clothes in a pile on the bed, Elliot had broken his paralysis enough to rub his face. "You should probably go."
"She's right," Elliot said quietly. "I hit you."
"Yes, but let's not stack it up against all the things I need you to forgive me for right now, okay? We both know how that balance sheet adds up." He put a knee on the mattress and leaned in to kiss Elliot, and then pressed their cheeks. "I'll sort this out. Don't think I'll let you go now."
Elliot nodded against him, and Toby left him to dress.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
end chapter 42
Feedback conspires to debauch and corrupt the morals of society. Concrit thoroughly welcome, warm fuzzies treasured. Here or at drsquidlove @@@ livejournal.com
The complete works of Dr Squidlove can be found at http://members.iinet.net.au/~tentacles/squidfic.html
S.
by Dr Squidlove
drsquidlove @@@ livejournal.com
Oz/Law & Order: SVU crossover
Tobias Beecher's trying to rebuild his family in the shadow of the man he was in prison. Elliot Stabler's struggling to continue in the wake of divorce while his job eats away at his soul. It makes for an odd friendship, but it works.
Rated R for violence and explicit references to sexual violence.
Wordcount this post: 3775
Full headers are on chapter 1.
Oz is the property of Tom Fontana and HBO. Law & Order: SVU is the property of Dick Wolf and NBC. The characters are used without permission, but with much appreciation.
Someone Like You
chapter 42: Domesticated
by Dr Squidlove
Previously, in chapter 41, Focaccia:
Elliot came over to watch Toby cook steak and focaccia, almost like the old days. (With gratuitous tie-tuck.) Toby confirmed that Chris mass-murdered Aryans for him. He also confessed to killing Vern, but Elliot thought putting on a play with the guy was a bigger WTF. As Elliot got called to work, Toby did a final push for forgiveness and Elliot cracked like an egg, and they kissed, and it was good.
Olivia had her concerns, but she'll throw Elliot to the wolves as long as he comes back with a doggie bag.
"No, I understand." The green light brought a swarm of pedestrians, and Toby dodged his way through, his lunch tucked under his arm.
"I'm sorry, Toby-"
"Stop apologising. Go and catch bad guys." Toby hung up and slid the phone back in his pocket, clutching his jacket tighter against a gust of wind as he hurried down the sidewalk. His high from kissing Elliot hadn't been touched by the first cancellation, and it had only dimmed a little with the second. Three times... Three was cold feet. Toby shouldn't have pushed him. He was back to square one.
He dodged around a pile of trash cans and looked up and sighed. Elliot would choose to cancel dinner as Toby passed by a wine store. The midday sun shone on great glass windows full of shining glass bottles with inviting labels. Toby had almost forgotten how a good Merlot tasted. He closed his eyes. A little plum; a little violet. Spices that lingered on the palate. No, he hadn't forgotten.
Nobody was going to be home tonight. No Elliot. Holly was at Kelly's, as usual.
He took a long breath. As good as it sounded, the urge wasn't overwhelming. He wasn't going to drink. He pushed on around the corner.
This was the new Toby, which meant if Elliot needed time, Toby was going to give it, and instead he could use the time for his kids. He'd been thinking of baking some cookies to send to Harry. Or he could push on with Holly's book: he'd decided to read whatever she was reading so he could prod more conversations out of her, but this one was testing his resolve. So much sighing and fainting and damsel-rescuing, it was like one of his mother's romance novels with wimpy vampires thrown in.
He wasn't going to sit around and stew about Elliot, because then he'd remember to feel guilty that he was still obfuscating significant details of his years in Oz. No, Elliot, none of the hacks laid a hand on me, but there was one who stood by and laughed as Vern Schillinger stomped on my legs. And the first thing I did when I got out of hospital was slice his face and his throat with my bare hands. Want to make love now, Elliot?
At this rate it would never matter. Elliot was going to keep postponing Toby until he stopped calling altogether. Toby sat on his usual bench. He was going enjoy the wind blowing leaves around the park, eat his sandwich, and go back to work.
The loft was filled with modernist sculptures that probably cost more than Elliot's car and you could see across the Hudson to New Jersey from the kitchen the uniforms were searching, but Elliot couldn't tear his eyes away from the massive print on the living room wall: a six foot high photo of a man in a sparkling gold dress that barely covered the distinct bulge of his crotch. The subject was standing with his bright blue high-heeled boots planted wide to show off muscular legs that Elliot was pretty sure had been waxed. The same bright blue was painted over his eyes and on long blue fingernails that were brushing back a ludicrous blonde wig as he blew a kiss at the camera.
He couldn't help seeing Toby up there, and it was making his balls crawl up inside him.
"I wonder where I can get a pair of boots like that," said Liv, appearing from nowhere.
Elliot sucked in a breath. He hadn't realised he was staring. At the six foot high photo of a drag queen. "Toby never wore a dress."
Olivia looked at him, startled. "You think I'd care if he did?"
"He didn't wear a dress. That's not the guy I know. That time in the meatpacking district... That's the only time I saw him like that."
"Why does it matter?"
Because Elliot didn't want Olivia thinking of him that way. Or thinking Elliot would get turned on by it. He hated himself for saying it, felt the shame burning in chest, but he didn't want anyone to suspect for a moment that Elliot pranced around in women's clothes, or wanted that from Toby. "Let's go talk to Cruz."
Olivia let it drop, thank god. "He's through here."
Elliot almost wished that was how Toby had dressed up. That photo was a whole different world to Toby hunched in the back of the squad car, crawling inside make up and clothes and bruises to blot himself out of existence. Elliot didn't want Olivia to think of Toby like that, either.
He'd been avoiding Toby, again. He'd thought the fire from that kiss would burn away the churn of anger and humiliation, but Keller kept crawling into his thoughts at odd moments, staring out from the eyes of a perp or shoving his way into the picture when Elliot thought of Toby at night. The hope, the hate, all of it was still sloshing around in his gut. He wanted Toby but it couldn't start like this.
Olivia led the way through to the office where a gym-chiselled guy with black slicked-back hair was scowling at the police rifling through his files. His glare sharpened when he saw her. "This is a load of crap."
"Is it?" Olivia gave him her best plastic newsreader smile. "I guess we'll find out. This is my partner, Detective Stabler."
Cruz was pacing the room, glaring at everyone and pumping his fists, desperate to tear all the cops off his stuff. It was the sort of itching restraint Elliot knew too well. Not a lot of people told this guy what to do. "Eddie's just upset about our fight. He'll drop the charges."
Olivia didn't miss a beat. "Edward's upset that you raped and beat him."
He rolled his eyes. "Why would I need to rape him? I've been fucking him for months! We have one little scrap and the little bitch is running off to the cops."
Edward hadn't called the cops. Cruz's neighbour had, and a little digging had them wondering what had happened to Cruz's last toy boy, who hadn't been seen in six months. It had taken Olivia and Elliot most of the morning to persuade Edward to press charges so they could get the warrant.
"Eddie and I love each other."
"Is that what you call it?" Olivia cocked her head. "I'll tell you a little secret. You don't hit people you love."
Elliot bit the inside of his cheek.
"Couples fight, lady."
"You don't rape someone you love."
Cruz laughed as he looked Olivia over. "Rough is what men like, Detective Benson." He purred it, sliding into her space so he could loom over her. Olivia stood her ground, unimpressed. "Straight men have to pretend to be domesticated for wives and girlfriends like you. Bring flowers and make vows and treat women like glass in the bedroom but that's not what men want. That's the great thing about being gay. We don't have to pretend. We can just fuck. Whoever, whenever. We all just want to put our dicks inside something tight and hot and pound away until we come." He turned his attention. "Are you domesticated, Detective Stabler?"
Completely. Getting more domesticated with every word he said. Elliot jutted out his chin and looked him in the eye, matching his macho. "Is that how Eddie treats you?"
"I fuck him."
Elliot lifted his shoulders, cocked an eyebrow. "Apparently he doesn't like the way you do it."
The pair of them bared their teeth in hard grins and faced off. Beneath the designer suits and the snappy wit, behind the closed doors of his fancy Chelsea loft, Elliot knew exactly who this guy was. He was the sort of guy who'd punch his lover.
"I like him," Cruz told Olivia.
"I'll bet you do." She squeezed an edge of contempt in her voice. Elliot knew she was playing along, supporting his rapport with Cruz, and she had no idea how it cut. He was more like Cruz than she imagined.
And nothing like him.
Elliot rolled his eyes at Olivia for Cruz's benefit, played the role, but he wouldn't ever see Toby the way Cruz saw other men. He didn't want to treat Toby like a hole to put his cock. He didn't want to pound away. He got off making Toby feel good. He wanted to make Toby to feel worthwhile, remind him that he deserved better than the choices he'd made in the past. Every screwed up thing that Elliot had learned about him these last few months hadn't changed that.
When he remembered the way Toby looked after that kiss, he couldn't regret it. It made him want to just let all of it go.
"You look exhausted."
Elliot's tie was loose, top button undone, grey shirt creased like he might have been in it for a day or two. He yawned as he slid into the booth. "Long night. You look pretty tired yourself."
"I never sleep as well when Holly's away." Not unless Elliot was sprawled beside him.
Toby had been ready to give up when Elliot cancelled yesterday, had tossed and turned and cursed himself until Elliot called early this morning to say the captain was finally sending him home, and did Toby want to meet up for breakfast?
Of course he did. He was going to hang on Elliot's every mood swing until Elliot came back or walked away for good. "You worked all night?"
"We were just clocking off when a call came in." He stared in surprise as the waitress served up two plates crammed with waffles and eggs and bacon.
Toby pushed the syrup at him. "I took the liberty of ordering, figured you'd be hungry."
His eyes glowed at the food, and then he turned a smile on Toby. "God. Yes. Now tell me about something that doesn't involve grieving parents or One Police Plaza."
That smile was Toby's new heroin. It had taken months to forgive Chris for betraying him to Schillinger, and that was in the slow creep of prison time, with Said preaching forgiveness in his ear, with a confession and a stabbing and a fight with the Aryans to even the score. Toby had nothing like that to offer, so all he could do was wait. If Elliot needed to eat out at a diner, where there was no danger of anyone kissing anyone else, then Toby was going to have to be okay with that.
A few weeks ago he wouldn't have hoped for this much. Waffles and eggs and making Elliot smile as he talked about Emilio having to break up a fight between buyers at an auction earlier in the week. Watching Elliot's tongue dart out to catch the pancake syrup glistening on his lips
Toby wanted to reach across to touch Elliot's thigh, slide his hand up and see if he could still make him hard, but that could wait. Toby wasn't going to push him again, even if sometimes Elliot's gaze seemed to linger. It was probably wishful thinking. Toby had gone back to get tested for STDs, just on the outside chance.
They took their time with breakfast: slow, ordinary conversation like they hadn't had since the summer. Elliot didn't talk as much, but he seemed happy to listen, so Toby made him chuckle with a summary of all the worst highlights of the godawful vampire book he'd read cover to cover to keep up with Holly. Elliot wiped syrup from his chin and crumpled the napkin in his hands, still grinning. "I may nominate you for father of the year. Was it worth it? Did you at least get a good bonding experience out of it?"
Toby huffed. "I brought it up at dinner on Wednesday, asked what she thought. She told me it was so horrible she gave up after twenty pages."
Elliot burst out laughing, and Toby watched, rapt. It was worth every page he'd read just for this.
When Elliot calmed, he sipped his hot chocolate. "How are things with her? How are those friends of hers?"
"We'll see. I'm getting to know their parents."
"You should have the kids over. Host a sleepover, get to know them. That's how Kathy knew all of our kids' friends."
Toby wasn't sure how those wealthy girls would feel about Holly's poky little apartment, or what their parents would say about a single father hosting. "Maybe." He could only imagine what they'd say about an ex-con babysitting their daughters.
They finished their plates and lounged back, both of them rubbing their bellies. Toby wanted to stretch this out, talk about anything that kept Elliot in view, but Elliot had worked all through the night and he was sitting in a daze. This was the perfect time to practise that patience Toby had been planning. He put a hand up for the check.
"Are you going to be all right to drive home?" Toby wanted to offer his bed for Elliot to sleep in, but didn't know how to make that not sound like an invitation for sex. It would be. If there was the slightest chance Elliot would let Toby spread him out on his bed, let Toby breathe him and taste him, then Toby would write the invitation on one of these napkins in his very best cursive.
Elliot blinked and refocused, picked up his cup and drained his hot chocolate. "I'm awake." He fished out his wallet to pay his half, and followed Toby out of the diner into the chilly morning.
Damp lingered in the air from rain in the night. Toby paused at the sidewalk, but Elliot kept walking, headed left. Toby didn't know if his car was parked this way or he was coming to Toby's apartment. Hope kept his cock half-hard in his pants; fear kept him quiet, eyes on the ground. He didn't want to screw this up.
Only a block to Toby's apartment, but the air was cool and sharp, and Elliot was within reach, their footsteps - faster than before - landing in time in the soggy leaves. Toby tugged his coat closer, scanning the parked cars for Elliot's blue Taurus, or anything that looked like it might be from the motor pool.
Elliot stuck with him all the way to Toby's stoop, steps slowing as they approached. Toby was searching for excuses to drag this out, trying to compose an unthreatening suggestion that Elliot come upstairs and sleep, when a hand caught his elbow. He looked up in surprise. Elliot's intense gaze made Toby's cock heavier.
"I want to come up."
"Are you sure?"
Elliot's fingers played over the buttons of Toby's coat. "Do you really want me to reconsider?"
"No." Toby wanted to kiss him, right here. He hurried up the steps, fumbled his key into the door.
That was what Elliot meant, wasn't it? 'I want to come up and kiss you,' or 'I want to come up and fuck you,' not 'I want to come up and talk about why you'll never see me again.' Toby looked back over his shoulder as they climbed the stairs, tried to interpret the top of Elliot's head, the angle of his shoulders, and then he tripped up the top step and Elliot reached for him, lightning reflexes.
"Are you all right?"
Toby breathed slowly, leaning shamelessly into the grip on his arm. "You tell me."
"Come on." Elliot nodded towards Toby's door, so Toby led the way in and closed it behind them.
"I've missed you, Elliot." Not Chris.
"I've missed you."
They stared at each other, the moment so serious it made Toby smile. As soon as he did Elliot stepped forward, smoothing his hands over the lapels of Toby's coat, and then reaching around to pull him closer. Leaning closer still. Toby could taste Elliot's breath on his tongue, feel the rough prickle of a chin in need of a shave. He ached to drag Elliot tight against him, let Elliot feel how badly Toby wanted him, but he waited, lips holding barely an inch away. This had to come from Elliot. Toby needed to know that Elliot wanted him.
Patience wasn't Toby's strong suit. "Tell me what you need."
A tongue tripped over Elliot's lips. "I want to touch you."
Toby reached up for the knot of Elliot's tie. Slowly undid it, slid it out of his collar and dropped it, right by the door. "Don't make me wait any longer."
And then Elliot kissed him, just how Toby wanted it. Hard mouth and grabby hands, heavy breaths and barely-contained growls, never breaking the kiss as he edged Toby towards the bedroom while shoving off Toby's coat and toeing off his own shoes, a few more steps and then he worked up Toby's long-sleeve shirt and undershirt in one bunch, dragging them up and over, snorted as he untangled them from Toby's ears. He dropped them on the floor and didn't argue when Toby stripped Elliot's coat and tossed it over the couch as they passed. He breathed a nervous chuckle when Toby fumbled with his buttons, yanked the shirt off himself and tossed it aside and then Elliot pressed Toby against the door jamb, bare chest to bare chest at last, and his hands dragged over Toby's body, feeling his ribs and rubbing circles on his lower back, pulling his hips close so Toby could feel his cock press. Elliot's tongue swept through Toby's mouth, and his teeth teased Toby's lip, and he only paused to mutter a 'yes' when Toby's thumbs flicked at the button of his fly.
Catharsis was making Toby's head spin like a first-class high. Contained desire, gentle hunger, safety. No games. Elliot was here because he wanted Toby, and Toby never, ever had to doubt that. He wished he could make Elliot feel the same. He unzipped him and slid his hands behind, pushing down the suit pants until he had two great handfuls of Elliot's tight ass.
He shoved Elliot's pants down and held him as Elliot stepped out of them and took off his ankle holster, eyes tracking from Toby's face over his body. A few steps further, and Elliot's hands were opening Toby's pants. Toby tried to kick them off and lost his balance, realised he'd forgotten his shoes as Elliot caught him and tumbled him onto the bed.
Toby laughed and Elliot grinned, and suddenly the desperation was broken. Toby lifted his feet in the air so he could reach to pull off his shoes and socks and pants, and when he was finally naked he rolled on his side, dragged his toes along Elliot's calf. "We have all morning." He dared to add, "If you're really here, and not planning to change your mind again."
Elliot stared into his eyes. "I didn't change my mind."
"Your job gives you plenty of opportunities to postpone conversations."
"You noticed that, did you?"
Toby just raised an eyebrow. He wasn't going to corner Elliot into lying that all those delays had been out of his hands.
Elliot cupped Toby's cheek. "I'm here now."
Toby kissed him hard, felt Elliot's fingers in his hair. He didn't deserve this but he was going to hold on so fucking tight. No more screw ups. He buried his face in Elliot's neck and breathed, not relaxing until Elliot's strong arms surrounded him. Just this was enough. Kissing and touching, letting their cocks ride the anticipation. Knowing Elliot still wanted him.
Elliot nudged his face out and pressed his lips to Toby's.
Toby lost track of time, in the warm haze of slow kisses and comfortable silences, half-hard but in no hurry to do anything about it. Elliot wanted him. Toby was going to make sure he didn't regret this.
Elliot kissed along Toby's sides, from his ribs to the points of his hip bones, sending a shiver through him. A line across the fronts of his thighs, tender patterns that seemed random until Elliot rolled Toby onto his stomach and let his lips drift over the place where a fist to his kidney had left him wincing for a week. These were all the places he'd been bruised that night. Only now Toby realised Elliot had started at the side of his mouth, at the long-healed split, lumping his own damage in with everything left by the men of Franco's. Toby rolled over and pulled him close, wished he could explain how different-
There was a thunk and Toby sat bolt upright, brain not catching up until he heard-
"Dad?" Shit.
He jumped out of bed and snatched a pair of shorts out of the drawer, threw a second pair at Elliot and yanked on a t-shirt, grateful that panic had wilted him. He yanked on sweatpants as well, would have thrown on a jacket and scarf to cover himself if he had time, but as he stepped into the doorway he realised how ridiculous he was being. Holly was standing inside the front door, in a pile of men's clothes that led all the way to the socks at Toby's feet.
"What's he doing here?"
Toby looked back over his shoulder but Elliot was still on the bed, sheet in his lap, frozen like a sprung teenager.
Holly snatched up Elliot's tie. "He hit you!"
Toby flinched, knowing Elliot heard that. He started collecting clothes, not bothering to sort it, filling his arms all the way to the tie Holly was clutching. He tugged it, but she wouldn't let go. "Give me a moment, okay?"
"He hit you," she said urgently, like he might have forgotten, which he almost had.
"I know." He pulled the tie out of her hand. "Let's get him out of here and we'll talk about it." He fetched Elliot's shirt off the lamp. When Toby came back to dump the clothes in a pile on the bed, Elliot had broken his paralysis enough to rub his face. "You should probably go."
"She's right," Elliot said quietly. "I hit you."
"Yes, but let's not stack it up against all the things I need you to forgive me for right now, okay? We both know how that balance sheet adds up." He put a knee on the mattress and leaned in to kiss Elliot, and then pressed their cheeks. "I'll sort this out. Don't think I'll let you go now."
Elliot nodded against him, and Toby left him to dress.
end chapter 42
Feedback conspires to debauch and corrupt the morals of society. Concrit thoroughly welcome, warm fuzzies treasured. Here or at drsquidlove @@@ livejournal.com
The complete works of Dr Squidlove can be found at http://members.iinet.net.au/~tentacles/squidfic.html
S.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2015-01-28 03:12 pm (UTC)I can't believe I didn't see that ending coming, all things considered. Of course Holly was going to interrupt the make-up sex. OF COURSE she was.
He got off making Toby feel good. He wanted to make Toby to feel worthwhile, remind him that he deserved better than the choices he'd made in the past.
Oh, wow, having Elliot kiss all the areas of Toby's old bruises, random but not random at all, and that moment when Toby realizes it... that was brilliant, and just beautiful. I love that moment so much.
Loved the beginning too, and Elliot's self-realization that he still has issues with being seen as "gay." It makes sense that someone like him would still be concerned about that, but knowing that he shouldn't be gives one hope that he can get over it.
(Is it wrong that every time there is a mention of drag in this story, I immediately think "Oh,
Oh, and YAY for Holly's literary tastes!
no subject
Date: 2015-01-29 11:57 am (UTC)OF COURSE she was! I'm appalled that you didn't see it coming, vanilla. Come on. So obvious, I didn't have a choice. :-D
But I'm so happy you got to enjoy the warm squishy lead-up. That tenderness is the very best part of making up.
Yeah. Aside from Elliot's repression totally being a kink of mine that I joyfully indulge in, I just can't picture him rocketing all the way to the Berkeley chapter of the LGBTQQIAAP lobby group. Or sticking a rainbow flag on his car. I'm willing to be proud of him for getting as far as he gets, and then to accept him for who he is: a repressed beefcake. The man will always be uncomfortable in his skin, and bless him for it.
The drag? Of course it isn't wrong! I think of iskra, too.
I figure a kid who's read Steinbeck wouldn't be all that impressed by Stephanie Meyer. Or maybe it's just the romance aspect she didn't like. I don't think Holly sees much point to boys, yet.
Thanks vanilla!
S.
no subject
Date: 2015-01-28 05:40 pm (UTC)ETA: Oh the vampire book is Twilight isn't it? It was first out in 2005 so that fits. Good lord, Holly has good taste.
Oh dear, ten years of Twilight.
I wonder if Bella/Edward are a sicker relationship than Toby/Chris..
Well at least Chris doesn't sparkle.
no subject
Date: 2015-01-29 12:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-01-29 07:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-01-29 12:06 pm (UTC)Thanks maze!
Of course, it would be difficult for Toby to explain in detail all the ways that he wronged Elliot. The wrongness of punching is something Holly is pretty clear on.
Yeah, it's totally Twilight. I'm sure Twilight was exciting for people who didn't read that much, but the sort of reading Holly's done, I don't think it would impress. Or, as I said to vanilla, it could be the romance. Holly hasn't seen much to be impressed by in boys generally.
I know how your mind works. Let me know when you write the sparkling vampire Chris story.
S.
no subject
Date: 2015-01-29 07:45 pm (UTC)Ha, we'll see. I have done non-sparkly vamp Chris before.
Wow!
Date: 2015-01-28 06:29 pm (UTC)I even loved the loft in Chelsea, the weaving in and out of pedestrian traffic, Olivia's desire for boots like a drag queen, and Toby's near-resignation.
Very curious now to see what's going to take plac between Holly and Toby. Or between Holly and Elliot.
Re: Wow!
Date: 2015-01-29 12:12 pm (UTC)Thanks sahem!
She had to do it, of course. The story just would have completely fallen apart, in the literary sense, if they'd got off.
Heh - I did think of you and your New York affection, as I was tidying up Toby weaving through pedestrians.
Olivia deserves a pair of awesome boots. I hope she finds them.
Mmm, yes. Toby's standards of forgiveness are quite different to Holly's.
S.
no subject
Date: 2015-01-28 08:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-01-29 12:13 pm (UTC)Of course not! I live to frustrate, and Holly is my Angel of Complication.
Thanks mulder!
S.
no subject
Date: 2015-01-28 11:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-01-29 12:15 pm (UTC)No I wasn't! She's just taken aback! A little startled to find her home littered with men's underwear. Give her a moment, she'll be fine, all on board.
S.
no subject
Date: 2015-01-30 01:43 am (UTC)LOL! That would have been a nice funny 'fast track to grown up' if poor Holly hadn't had a far more tragic version of that already :(
no subject
Date: 2015-02-02 02:07 pm (UTC)Moe traumatic for Elliot than Holly, I suspect. He's way more repressed than she is.
S.
no subject
Date: 2015-01-29 06:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-01-29 12:16 pm (UTC)Yes yes, this is at the heart of what children are: unfiltered and inconvenient.
Thanks helvetica.
S.
no subject
Date: 2015-01-30 02:07 am (UTC)And of course Olivia's flawless fashion sense ;D And her not giving a fuck whether Toby wears dresses or not, I loved her for that <3 Too much info, here, Elliot!
Regarding his whole non-identification with gay/camp culture, it seems poor Toby has a type, Chris was like that too. There is a cabaret singer called Dusty Limits who has a satirical song about 'men who have sex with men' but who deny to have anything to do with gay. It made me think of Chris when I heard it :)
And Elliot kissing Toby's bruises, so beautiful, a mirror of Toby kissing Chris' scar.
no subject
Date: 2015-01-30 02:11 pm (UTC)He does, though far more often he uses it to play the out-of-control bully. (An act that becomes increasingly difficult to distinguish from actually being an out-of-control bully, at about this season of the show.)
Olivia is a woman of style. She could totally carry off those boots. And she's the one who picks up Elliot's slack on trans PC-ness. (But secretly, I'm sure she'd totally want to know if Elliot was tiptoeing in the drag scene. Just because who wouldn't?)
Ooh, I'll have to check out that Dusty Limits song.
Though I suspect Toby wouldn't be deeply into camp culture either (aside from self-abuse). ~pulls up a chair~ So a little thing that has stuck with me and crept into numerous stories was an article many years ago about gays and lesbians who hated the Sydney Gay & Lesbian Mardis Gras. It blew my mind, because back then I'd never imagined anyone (except haters) not loving this week when everyone in Sydney is so joyfully pro-gay. But I'd never thought about the frustration of having the face of the movement being so sexual and slutty, or how if you were an executive at a conservative company, all those glitter-g-stringed dancing boys and drag queens might make it harder to come out. And while I'm still firmly in favour of sluttiness and glittery dancing boys, I've been fascinated by that side of it ever since. And that's definitely where I think Elliot would fall. I could see him (not yet, but eventually) outing himself at work to defend somebody, or to prove he wasn't ashamed of Toby, but I just can't see him with a rainbow bumper sticker on his car, or understanding why anyone would want their sex life paraded in the street.
He'd be utterly horrified to know we're all following his private life in such lurid detail. :-) I don't think Toby would care about privacy as much as Elliot, but I think that "Leave me alone to care for my partner and kids," mentality is where he wants to be.
Thanks you so much iskra!
S.
no subject
Date: 2015-01-30 07:37 pm (UTC)I totally understand the Mardi Gras thing. Here in the UK we had sort of the reverse polemic last year when there was the gay marriage debate. The 'conservative' fringe of LGBT had such an extreme attitude, almost like gay marriage was the alpha and omega that would solve all LGBT problems that some more alternative people got really fed up and took the exact opposite (and equally ridiculous IMHO) attitude of being against gay marriage as a scam. I was more, well, you have to be an idiot to refuse civil rights, but when Black people got allowed to sit wherever they liked on a bus, it didn't put an end to racist violence, discrimination, poverty and all, so let's not blow it out of proportion. But I could also understand extreme gut reactions from people more at one end or the other of the lifestyle, sort of.
In the end it's about trying to stick a one-fit-all aspiration/lifestyle on a group of very varied people, whatever the the particular aspiration or image is, it will never fit everybody.
no subject
Date: 2015-02-01 11:05 am (UTC)I looked for the Dusty. Boo.
Yes, I've definitely seen the backlash of people in the LGBT community who don't want their lives squashed into the straight culture mould. And I respect that. But that's it exactly. Some people want that mould. (Elliot would very much want his gay life to be in the straight culture mould. He's a fan of moulds.)
S.
no subject
Date: 2015-01-30 08:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-02-01 11:15 am (UTC)Chris is a total muddle.
I really like that when Taylor suggested they gave mutual pleasure, Chris insisted "Toby sucks mine." But when Mukada was nagging Chris, Chris said they fucked each other up the ass.
So he wouldn't own equal sex when he loved and valued Toby, but he would admit taking it up the ass from Toby when he hated him.
So was it about who was asking? Or just because Chris was trying to shock Mukada?
Or hey, maybe Chris had weird sexual issues where he couldn't give blowjobs but could be penetrated...
S.
no subject
Date: 2015-02-01 11:51 am (UTC)You idea of his hangups is intriguing. Plot bunny hopping.
no subject
Date: 2015-02-01 12:24 pm (UTC)You're so easy.
S.
no subject
Date: 2015-02-01 01:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-02-01 10:55 pm (UTC)Or hey, maybe Chris had weird sexual issues where he couldn't give blowjobs but could be penetrated...
The actual line to Mukada was: "Oh, come on, Father, you can say it. We fucked each other up the ass, in the mouth."
So Chris indicated to Mukada that he was open to giving all forms of sex, in contrast to what he said to Taylor, making me think that....
I'm sorry, what were we talking about?
:D
no subject
Date: 2015-02-02 02:11 pm (UTC)Oh, go ahead, ruin the sexually-weird Chris bunny with your canon, will you...
We were talking about Chris enjoying it up the ass. Don't get distracted from that.
S.
Chapter 42 Domesticated
Date: 2015-02-05 03:08 am (UTC)But I hit a hitch in part 42 or 43. It was hard for me to suspend disbelief regarding how poorly Toby addressed Holly's immediate and legitimate concerns about Elliot slugging him. Most fathers with Toby's background and recent experiences would be unable to miss how rationalizing an incident of domestic physical abuse by a man in his own life could be an indirect green light for his daughter to rationalize physical abuse in her future relationships. So, despite Toby's critical state of neediness, and dependence on Holly's blessing for a viable family relationship with Elliot, even with an ironclad conviction that Elliot would indeed never hit him again, I think his answer of "He won't" to Holly's question "what if he hits you again" is possibly too inadequate to ring true and still maintain respect for his character, at least without some more thoughtful follow-up on the subject later on when Toby has had more time to think about it.
One of Toby's most important redeeming and necessary qualities as an almost fatally flawed sympathetic character whom we can root for is that he is an unselfish and thoughtful (although often clueless) parent who is always preoccupied with the welfare of his children. The idea that he could be so out to lunch over his desire to further his relationship with Elliot (which I know could and does happen in real life) that he would fail to completely address Holly's concern about this episode of violence is almost terminally off-putting. Something more like "everybody deserves a second chance, but if it happens again the relationship is definitely over, and incidentally I can take care of myself in the slugging department so don't you worry about that sweetheart" would be the bare minimum to show that Toby isn't a total moron, especially considering his understanding of the endless cycle of escalating violence in prison, as well as his more intimate experience with Keller's dangerous and unpredictable mix of love and violence. This kind of an answer would have been perfectly consistent with a certain side of Toby that we met in prison. Such an answer is also necessary to show him as maintaining clarity under challenging circumstances about how important it is to step out of himself and properly take care of his daughter, even if he is willing to accept a lesser standard of consistency in his own affairs.
If that is too much to expect of him in the moment, then at least a little more internal awareness of his double messaging about violence would have made him easier to respect here. I ardently want him to find enough strength and integrity, despite everything that challenges his ability to do this, to meet as an equal the people with whom he shares a mutual desire to connect.
I was very pleased by Toby's sage and oblique reference to Holly's middle school coping behaviors as being an unproductive equivalent to his unmentionable survival strategies in prison. There, he sounded like a believably wise and patient parent. Like an adult who has at least one foot on the ground.
Whatever follows, I am on the edge of my seat for the next installment. Thank you again for making this wonderful and improbable work, which I stumbled upon by accident, so freely available. Such generosity.
Re: Chapter 42 Domesticated
Date: 2015-02-06 02:32 pm (UTC)I loooooove such thinky-thoughtful feedback that is making me think about what I've written. And do some adjusting: I printed this comment out and made notes on it as i rejigged a conversation that was seriously in need of rejigging in chapter 45. (Nevermind that I need to get it posted before I go to bed tonight; oh crap, look at the time...)
Trust me, the story's not done with this issue yet, but I'll be mostly coming from a slightly different angle.
I honestly don't believe Toby is so wise. The fact that he took Chris back after the broken arms and legs proves that. We may all have been pulling for it and hoping for it, but if I were a family member who cared about Toby, rather than just a fan of pretty, angsty, man-romance, I would be appalled that Toby would jump back in bed with someone who so coldly brutalised him. Even in the safety of his kids, Toby can be short-sighted: all of Toby's gleeful campaign against Schillinger's parole proved that. (And the show could have somewhat justified it if ever Toby reasoned he was trying to keep Schillinger in prison away from his kids, but he never did. It was pure spite.)
I see Toby (particularly where I have him) as actually buried pretty deeply in the cycle of violence. Elliot's punch didn't come from nowhere: Toby egged him into it, wanted to see that kind of reaction (and wasn't thinking of Holly in the next room, then). Whether that would have been enough, or whether Toby would have started throwing punches too, we'll never be sure, thanks to Holly.
Toby takes guilt on himself and doesn't share it with other people. He takes on blame for Andrew Schillinger's death (and his motives may have been impure, but all of his words and deeds with Andrew were actually kind) and doesn't offload it on Schillinger at all. And it's easy for him to do that here: given that what Toby did to Elliot was way, way, way worse than Elliot's punch, and given that he intentionally incited the punch, and given that he likely would have belted Elliot right back if not for Holly's interruption, I could see Toby having a lot of trouble shoving the blame back on Elliot for Holly's benefit.
So essentially I'm saying, I totally agree that Toby *should* do all these things you say. I just don't see him as quite as smart or objective as you do. For all his occasional pretty insights, I'd actually rank him as the least-wise person in this story when it comes to violence.
Stick with me: there's actually quite a bit more on this issue, and I'm really really happy that you want the violence dealt with and not just swept under the carpet for a happy ending. Let me know if you think it pans out!
Thank you so, so much anonymous person! For the very kind words, and because I love, love that you care this much about how Toby talks Holly through this. I think it means I'm doing something right. Taking so much effort to write such a considered response to Toby's behaviour is about the highest compliment there is, in my book. You've really made me think about what I'm trying to do.
S.
Re: Chapter 42 Domesticated
Date: 2015-02-07 11:48 pm (UTC)For me, this story has to have a certain degree of consistency with real life assumptions about people and circumstances to make it really satisfying. Otherwise, why bother? This is why I keep dwelling on the credibility quotient, on which you score such high marks (within the realm of fantasy), which is why I am definitely sticking with you. (That is also why the hot parts are so hot, because, aside from the fact that they are beautifully written, Toby and Elliot have had to work so much crap to get to them.)
I can't imagine how hard you must be working on this, and how much critical thought you have had to put into writing these chapters. I am going to move up further to the here where I stay with the most current discussion string. I want to respond to some of the other stuff you brought up here further along. Hopefully it will make sense. Thank you.
Re: Chapter 42 Domesticated
Date: 2015-02-10 12:28 pm (UTC)Yes, and that's the challenge I'm relishing. In every fandom I've played in, I think I've written at least one story where I really tried to take the time to 'persuade' the characters into it, so that it would make the relationship believable even for people who didn't generally buy the pairing. I guess this is that story for this fandom. :-)
I think relationship stories have to set up a standard of realism the same way science fiction and action movies do. You can have James Bond stunts and people wrestling on top of jet fighters, but you have to buy that suspension of disbelief at the start. Same as you can set up a story with a more vulnerable Chris Keller and then I'll squee when they buy curtains together at the end. I'm trying to keep this in a place where readers will scoff if Elliot decides that Chris wasn't such a bad guy or starts wearing a triangle pin to work. And that's why I loved that you were sceptical of Toby's parenting failure.
Thank you so much! I kind of have been winding things obsessively back and forth through the story - this is what happens when a story percolates over a year, and new ideas keep creeping in - and it means so much that you notice it. Your feedback is really lovely.
S.