Sinking 02/10 - Oz: Beecher/Murphy
Feb. 4th, 2017 06:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
drsquidloveSinking
by Dr Squidlove
drsquidlove@livejournal.com
Beecher didn't fuck up his parole buying drugs for Bonnie. Yay, everything is awesome! Only... he's maybe not handling his parole as well as other people think he is. Meanwhile, Sean Murphy's been pining after Tim McManus for too damned long. Even so, the two of them hooking up for a blow job is about the worst idea possible.
Beecher/Murphy, with sidelines in Beecher/Keller and McManus/Murphy
Rated R for considerable amounts of fucking.
Wordcount this chapter: 2144
Total wordcount: 29 000-ish
Oz and all its characters are the property of Tom Fontana and HBO. I make no profit, and intend as little infringement as I possibly can.
Sinking 2/10
by Dr Squidlove
In the first chapter, Sean ran into drunk, slutty Toby at his favourite gay bar, and Toby offered him a blow job. Sean turned him down, but was compelled to help out when Toby was sliding towards trouble. He gave him a lift home, poured good advice on deaf ears, and still isn't quite sure how he ended up giving Toby a blow job. We continue immediately upon Toby throwing him out.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Sean slipped his key in the ignition and stopped. What had he just done? He slumped back in the seat. What the hell had he just done?
Beecher was right - he'd fucked a prisoner, and no way would Tim see it any differently. Jesus, he had to tell Tim. Sean's stomach bottomed out and took a long roll. He couldn't tell Tim this.
There was a little everlasting flame of hope that Sean had been carrying in his gut for thirty years, and now it sputtered and dimmed. If ever Tim might have wised up and turned gay and fallen for Sean - and Sean wasn't under any delusions that was remotely likely - or at least he hadn't been for a long time - then Sean having sucked off Tobias Beecher would have soured it. Being a grown man who knew that fucking Tim was a 'peace in the Middle East' kind of fantasy didn't make the pill any less bitter.
He was just going to have to hope and pray this wouldn't blow up into a world of shit. Which seemed like a long shot, but maybe Beecher wouldn't be any more eager to talk than Sean was.
If he did... Sean was done at Oz. He was done with Tim. And there was probably an above-average chance that Keller would shank him. What the fuck had he done? For the sake of giving a blow job?
Sean didn't remember starting the car, but after he spiralled through endless self-recriminations he wasn't all that surprised to find himself sitting outside Tim's apartment. If he just went in and confessed right now, buddy-to-buddy, maybe he'd have a chance of getting Tim onside. Yeah, maybe Tim wouldn't start talking investigations and transfers and about how this was all a personal betrayal of Tim, acting like he'd never done a spontaneous idiotic thing in his life.
'Yeah, Sean? Well, I've never fucked a prisoner.'
The windows up there were dark, and somewhere inside Tim was sprawled asleep in his bed. They didn't have the kind of relationship where Sean could crawl in beside him, lie skin to skin and spill his confessions and expect absolution and unconditional support. No, right now Tim was probably skin to skin with Minnie, and it wasn't absolution or support, just plenty of fucking and Tim's desperate need not to be alone. Tim had been seeing her for about a month now, had brought her over to Sean's for dinner last week. A serious relationship for him.
Yeah, Sean was transparent as hell. Fuck it. He pulled out and headed home.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The prisoners weren't the only ones living in a fish bowl. Sean stood at his post, feeling like every eye was on him, like he had 'I sucked off Tobias Beecher' tattooed across his face. Thank god he hadn't seen Tim yet. No way was he going to be looking him in the eye. Not ever again.
Sean had to watch himself. It was a safe bet no one was gonna guess he'd sucked anyone's cock Friday night, but if anyone noticed him paying Keller extra attention - and they would, if he did - then there were plenty of other conclusions to draw.
And then there was Keller himself, lounging in his bunk down on the first floor, reading. He had no fucking idea that Sean had spent the entire weekend pissing in his pants at the thought of seeing him today. It was all gonna be for shit when Beecher visited. Beecher was gonna tell Keller and then what? And what the fuck was Beecher going to tell him? That Sean was gay, for sure, so Sean could kiss goodbye to his career. Sean did well in here because he didn't piss anyone off any more than he had to, didn't get on anyone's radar. The second he hit the rumour mill that was over. And then... And then Sean didn't know what the fuck he was gonna do. This was the only job he'd known since he was a kid packing groceries.
Sean had hardly slept a wink last night.
Whether Beecher'd tell Keller his own dick had had a taste, Sean wasn't so clear. It was part of the great Beecher-Keller mystery, how Keller'd feel about Beecher having a life without him. Sean wondered if even Beecher knew.
"Murphy, can you come up for a moment?" Tim called down from the door of his office, and for a split second, Sean was sure he'd been found out. This was the paranoia he was going to be living with now, thanks to blowing one load. What the fuck had he been thinking? Sean rubbed his hands over his face and passed the desk over to D'Agnasti, trudged his way up the stairs with an unfamiliar dread.
Tim was carried away with his newest idea to start a choir. Some minimum security women's prison down in Virginia had put out an album, and now Tim had it figured Em City could learn a song or two. Sean wasn't so sure, but it wasn't as hare-brained as some of his other ideas, if they could just hook in the right guys first, and keep the ringleaders out of it. Sean probably wasn't being much help, but Tim usually did best when you just nodded and made some agreeing sounds.
Sean was busying thinking about Tobias Beecher's cock, and of course what Tim would say if he found out where it had been. Sean was already marshalling defensive arguments: he could point out what a pussy hound Tim was, remind him how much trouble his dick had caused, but that wasn't the fight Sean wanted to have. Sean wanted to tell him he wouldn't have done anything so stupid if Tim had been waiting at home for him that night.
He doubted that argument would work.
Tim was bubbling, the way he did when he was well-laid and he had his nose in a new scheme. He'd been the same since they were kids. He was always convinced he could get all the local kids on board for a skateboarding meet or to raise money with a car wash. He'd never been popular enough to pull any of it off, but Sean had always come along for the ride, just to enjoy the horny feeling he got watching Tim on a mission. Back then Sean had still believed that if he did all the right things, was a good enough friend, he'd get a hand down his pants in the end.
Some things hadn't changed: Sean's ornery cock was half-hard now.
Maybe Beecher could write a letter of recommendation, from one former straight guy to another. Sean would only need one chance, and Tim would swear off pussy for life.
"Sean?"
Shit ."Sorry?"
"What do you think?"
It was all a joke. When the shit hit the fan, there'd be no arguing, no excuses. The only thing that could possibly head off the storm was if Sean owned up first.
"I think it's worth a try, Tim."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Three days later, Keller's name came up on the list for visitors, and Sean's stomach took a tumble. He had a paper-thin excuse in seconds for swapping with Mineo so he could head downstairs, try to get a glimpse of Beecher without being seen. Mineo gave him a curious look, but he didn't actually give a damn. Sean tried to look like he wasn't in a hurry. He wanted to see if Beecher still looked as together as every other visit, but Sean's inner kid was sure that maybe if Beecher didn't see him, he'd forget to mention him to Keller.
There was Beecher, strolling down the corridor. Hair groomed, clean-shaven, chin high. Suit pants and a crisp shirt, like he was on his way to the office and left his tie in the car. Putting on a front for Keller, who Sean figured would rather see him pine. Maybe it was all part of the love-hate cycle.
Now Sean was watching for it, he could see a little Chris Keller in him. Beecher had learned a thing or two at Keller's knee: he had a swagger of his own, some kind of sensuality in his gaze, though unlike Keller, Beecher could shed it at will, change one mask for another. Sean wondered if Beecher himself still remembered who was under it all.
'Can I suck your cock?' The memory of Beecher's bald offer echoed like he'd said it aloud again, and Sean's hands tightened on his belt.
Beecher's head turned and his gaze landed on Sean like a stone. All the air in the corridor dissolved, and the corner of Beecher's mouth lifted, just barely. Just for Sean. And then Beecher headed through the door and Sean was left fighting the urge to clear out his locker and run away home. What the hell had he been thinking, giving a prisoner all this power over him?
Sean lost count of how many times he checked his watch. Three times he held it up to his ear to check it was ticking. Was it really only thirty minutes? This time he had the brains to be well out of view when Beecher cleared out, but he couldn't wait. He had to know. He steeled himself, and stepped up to escort Keller.
Keller was subdued, watching the door Beecher had left through. No trademark smirk, no threatening gaze. It was the same hangdog look he had after every Beecher visit. He barely acknowledged Sean, and Sean could have just about wet himself in relief. Either Keller was a better actor than Sean gave him credit for, or Beecher had by some miracle kept his yap shut.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Sean near-threw himself into the first stall, hand pressed against his cock. He'd gotten away with it. He worked himself back into a comfortable position in his pants, but instead of relief he had his thumb making circles on the cloth over his head, pressing the zip, and his head tipped back with the pleasure.
He could taste Beecher's cock, feel the weight of it on his tongue, and Keller didn't know, Tim didn't know. He was flying high, like he just got away with some major crime.
Sean unzipped and let his cock push free, braced himself against the flimsy john divider and jacked off.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Sister Pete was looking unusually cheerful over her sandwich at lunch. Sean lingered by the coffee machine, trying to be invisible, but she just turned in her chair, happy to have someone more sympathetic than Howell to tell her good news.
"Tobias Beecher visited me today."
Sean wondered how well he was doing at looking disinterested. "Oh yeah. How's he doin'?" He was relatively sure Beecher wasn't about to blurt to Pete about the other night, but he stayed put and kept stirring.
"Really great. I think he's finally getting himself together. He's got a job as a research assistant at a patent law firm in Burlington. If he keeps this up, he may be able to gain full custody of his children."
Curiosity piqued, Sean finally wandered over to join her at the table. "I thought he was at his dad's firm."
She frowned slightly. "I don't know what happened with them. I don't think he parted on good terms. But now he has a new job, he has weekends with Holly and Harry, and it even sounds like he's seeing someone."
"Seeing someone?" Sean parrotted.
"One of his daughter's teachers." She smiled, proud as a mother for her favourite son.
Sean had never thought an unkind word about Sister Pete, but now he wanted to ask what kind of institution gave the woman a psychology degree. She was closer to Beecher than anybody. Except Keller, and Keller didn't seem to see through it all, either. How could they not see it?
But hell, Sean would have bought it himself, hook, line and sinker, if he hadn't sucked the guy's dick five days ago.
Sean sipped his coffee. The devil inside him wanted to tell Sister Pete exactly what he got up to the other night, just to see how she'd react. He knew better than to think she could be shocked after all the years working this joint, but Sean figured it'd be worth a raised eyebrow at the least. For sure there'd be a whole lot of counselling. Sean wondered if she'd snitch to Tim or Glynn - for his own good of course.
But maybe she wouldn't. Maybe a little part of her would rather see her pet prisoner with someone a whole lot less likely to fuck his life than that sociopath Keller, and she'd turn into some kind of unbalanced yenta matchmaker. It wouldn't be the craziest thing in this past week.
-----
end 2/10
I treasure comments. If you enjoyed it but have nothing particular to say, I respect that too.
But please not the 'like' button. Please not the tepid indifference of the 'like' button. It makes me sad. :-(
by Dr Squidlove
drsquidlove@livejournal.com
Beecher didn't fuck up his parole buying drugs for Bonnie. Yay, everything is awesome! Only... he's maybe not handling his parole as well as other people think he is. Meanwhile, Sean Murphy's been pining after Tim McManus for too damned long. Even so, the two of them hooking up for a blow job is about the worst idea possible.
Beecher/Murphy, with sidelines in Beecher/Keller and McManus/Murphy
Rated R for considerable amounts of fucking.
Wordcount this chapter: 2144
Total wordcount: 29 000-ish
Oz and all its characters are the property of Tom Fontana and HBO. I make no profit, and intend as little infringement as I possibly can.
Sinking 2/10
by Dr Squidlove
In the first chapter, Sean ran into drunk, slutty Toby at his favourite gay bar, and Toby offered him a blow job. Sean turned him down, but was compelled to help out when Toby was sliding towards trouble. He gave him a lift home, poured good advice on deaf ears, and still isn't quite sure how he ended up giving Toby a blow job. We continue immediately upon Toby throwing him out.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Sean slipped his key in the ignition and stopped. What had he just done? He slumped back in the seat. What the hell had he just done?
Beecher was right - he'd fucked a prisoner, and no way would Tim see it any differently. Jesus, he had to tell Tim. Sean's stomach bottomed out and took a long roll. He couldn't tell Tim this.
There was a little everlasting flame of hope that Sean had been carrying in his gut for thirty years, and now it sputtered and dimmed. If ever Tim might have wised up and turned gay and fallen for Sean - and Sean wasn't under any delusions that was remotely likely - or at least he hadn't been for a long time - then Sean having sucked off Tobias Beecher would have soured it. Being a grown man who knew that fucking Tim was a 'peace in the Middle East' kind of fantasy didn't make the pill any less bitter.
He was just going to have to hope and pray this wouldn't blow up into a world of shit. Which seemed like a long shot, but maybe Beecher wouldn't be any more eager to talk than Sean was.
If he did... Sean was done at Oz. He was done with Tim. And there was probably an above-average chance that Keller would shank him. What the fuck had he done? For the sake of giving a blow job?
Sean didn't remember starting the car, but after he spiralled through endless self-recriminations he wasn't all that surprised to find himself sitting outside Tim's apartment. If he just went in and confessed right now, buddy-to-buddy, maybe he'd have a chance of getting Tim onside. Yeah, maybe Tim wouldn't start talking investigations and transfers and about how this was all a personal betrayal of Tim, acting like he'd never done a spontaneous idiotic thing in his life.
'Yeah, Sean? Well, I've never fucked a prisoner.'
The windows up there were dark, and somewhere inside Tim was sprawled asleep in his bed. They didn't have the kind of relationship where Sean could crawl in beside him, lie skin to skin and spill his confessions and expect absolution and unconditional support. No, right now Tim was probably skin to skin with Minnie, and it wasn't absolution or support, just plenty of fucking and Tim's desperate need not to be alone. Tim had been seeing her for about a month now, had brought her over to Sean's for dinner last week. A serious relationship for him.
Yeah, Sean was transparent as hell. Fuck it. He pulled out and headed home.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The prisoners weren't the only ones living in a fish bowl. Sean stood at his post, feeling like every eye was on him, like he had 'I sucked off Tobias Beecher' tattooed across his face. Thank god he hadn't seen Tim yet. No way was he going to be looking him in the eye. Not ever again.
Sean had to watch himself. It was a safe bet no one was gonna guess he'd sucked anyone's cock Friday night, but if anyone noticed him paying Keller extra attention - and they would, if he did - then there were plenty of other conclusions to draw.
And then there was Keller himself, lounging in his bunk down on the first floor, reading. He had no fucking idea that Sean had spent the entire weekend pissing in his pants at the thought of seeing him today. It was all gonna be for shit when Beecher visited. Beecher was gonna tell Keller and then what? And what the fuck was Beecher going to tell him? That Sean was gay, for sure, so Sean could kiss goodbye to his career. Sean did well in here because he didn't piss anyone off any more than he had to, didn't get on anyone's radar. The second he hit the rumour mill that was over. And then... And then Sean didn't know what the fuck he was gonna do. This was the only job he'd known since he was a kid packing groceries.
Sean had hardly slept a wink last night.
Whether Beecher'd tell Keller his own dick had had a taste, Sean wasn't so clear. It was part of the great Beecher-Keller mystery, how Keller'd feel about Beecher having a life without him. Sean wondered if even Beecher knew.
"Murphy, can you come up for a moment?" Tim called down from the door of his office, and for a split second, Sean was sure he'd been found out. This was the paranoia he was going to be living with now, thanks to blowing one load. What the fuck had he been thinking? Sean rubbed his hands over his face and passed the desk over to D'Agnasti, trudged his way up the stairs with an unfamiliar dread.
Tim was carried away with his newest idea to start a choir. Some minimum security women's prison down in Virginia had put out an album, and now Tim had it figured Em City could learn a song or two. Sean wasn't so sure, but it wasn't as hare-brained as some of his other ideas, if they could just hook in the right guys first, and keep the ringleaders out of it. Sean probably wasn't being much help, but Tim usually did best when you just nodded and made some agreeing sounds.
Sean was busying thinking about Tobias Beecher's cock, and of course what Tim would say if he found out where it had been. Sean was already marshalling defensive arguments: he could point out what a pussy hound Tim was, remind him how much trouble his dick had caused, but that wasn't the fight Sean wanted to have. Sean wanted to tell him he wouldn't have done anything so stupid if Tim had been waiting at home for him that night.
He doubted that argument would work.
Tim was bubbling, the way he did when he was well-laid and he had his nose in a new scheme. He'd been the same since they were kids. He was always convinced he could get all the local kids on board for a skateboarding meet or to raise money with a car wash. He'd never been popular enough to pull any of it off, but Sean had always come along for the ride, just to enjoy the horny feeling he got watching Tim on a mission. Back then Sean had still believed that if he did all the right things, was a good enough friend, he'd get a hand down his pants in the end.
Some things hadn't changed: Sean's ornery cock was half-hard now.
Maybe Beecher could write a letter of recommendation, from one former straight guy to another. Sean would only need one chance, and Tim would swear off pussy for life.
"Sean?"
Shit ."Sorry?"
"What do you think?"
It was all a joke. When the shit hit the fan, there'd be no arguing, no excuses. The only thing that could possibly head off the storm was if Sean owned up first.
"I think it's worth a try, Tim."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Three days later, Keller's name came up on the list for visitors, and Sean's stomach took a tumble. He had a paper-thin excuse in seconds for swapping with Mineo so he could head downstairs, try to get a glimpse of Beecher without being seen. Mineo gave him a curious look, but he didn't actually give a damn. Sean tried to look like he wasn't in a hurry. He wanted to see if Beecher still looked as together as every other visit, but Sean's inner kid was sure that maybe if Beecher didn't see him, he'd forget to mention him to Keller.
There was Beecher, strolling down the corridor. Hair groomed, clean-shaven, chin high. Suit pants and a crisp shirt, like he was on his way to the office and left his tie in the car. Putting on a front for Keller, who Sean figured would rather see him pine. Maybe it was all part of the love-hate cycle.
Now Sean was watching for it, he could see a little Chris Keller in him. Beecher had learned a thing or two at Keller's knee: he had a swagger of his own, some kind of sensuality in his gaze, though unlike Keller, Beecher could shed it at will, change one mask for another. Sean wondered if Beecher himself still remembered who was under it all.
'Can I suck your cock?' The memory of Beecher's bald offer echoed like he'd said it aloud again, and Sean's hands tightened on his belt.
Beecher's head turned and his gaze landed on Sean like a stone. All the air in the corridor dissolved, and the corner of Beecher's mouth lifted, just barely. Just for Sean. And then Beecher headed through the door and Sean was left fighting the urge to clear out his locker and run away home. What the hell had he been thinking, giving a prisoner all this power over him?
Sean lost count of how many times he checked his watch. Three times he held it up to his ear to check it was ticking. Was it really only thirty minutes? This time he had the brains to be well out of view when Beecher cleared out, but he couldn't wait. He had to know. He steeled himself, and stepped up to escort Keller.
Keller was subdued, watching the door Beecher had left through. No trademark smirk, no threatening gaze. It was the same hangdog look he had after every Beecher visit. He barely acknowledged Sean, and Sean could have just about wet himself in relief. Either Keller was a better actor than Sean gave him credit for, or Beecher had by some miracle kept his yap shut.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Sean near-threw himself into the first stall, hand pressed against his cock. He'd gotten away with it. He worked himself back into a comfortable position in his pants, but instead of relief he had his thumb making circles on the cloth over his head, pressing the zip, and his head tipped back with the pleasure.
He could taste Beecher's cock, feel the weight of it on his tongue, and Keller didn't know, Tim didn't know. He was flying high, like he just got away with some major crime.
Sean unzipped and let his cock push free, braced himself against the flimsy john divider and jacked off.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Sister Pete was looking unusually cheerful over her sandwich at lunch. Sean lingered by the coffee machine, trying to be invisible, but she just turned in her chair, happy to have someone more sympathetic than Howell to tell her good news.
"Tobias Beecher visited me today."
Sean wondered how well he was doing at looking disinterested. "Oh yeah. How's he doin'?" He was relatively sure Beecher wasn't about to blurt to Pete about the other night, but he stayed put and kept stirring.
"Really great. I think he's finally getting himself together. He's got a job as a research assistant at a patent law firm in Burlington. If he keeps this up, he may be able to gain full custody of his children."
Curiosity piqued, Sean finally wandered over to join her at the table. "I thought he was at his dad's firm."
She frowned slightly. "I don't know what happened with them. I don't think he parted on good terms. But now he has a new job, he has weekends with Holly and Harry, and it even sounds like he's seeing someone."
"Seeing someone?" Sean parrotted.
"One of his daughter's teachers." She smiled, proud as a mother for her favourite son.
Sean had never thought an unkind word about Sister Pete, but now he wanted to ask what kind of institution gave the woman a psychology degree. She was closer to Beecher than anybody. Except Keller, and Keller didn't seem to see through it all, either. How could they not see it?
But hell, Sean would have bought it himself, hook, line and sinker, if he hadn't sucked the guy's dick five days ago.
Sean sipped his coffee. The devil inside him wanted to tell Sister Pete exactly what he got up to the other night, just to see how she'd react. He knew better than to think she could be shocked after all the years working this joint, but Sean figured it'd be worth a raised eyebrow at the least. For sure there'd be a whole lot of counselling. Sean wondered if she'd snitch to Tim or Glynn - for his own good of course.
But maybe she wouldn't. Maybe a little part of her would rather see her pet prisoner with someone a whole lot less likely to fuck his life than that sociopath Keller, and she'd turn into some kind of unbalanced yenta matchmaker. It wouldn't be the craziest thing in this past week.
-----
end 2/10
I treasure comments. If you enjoyed it but have nothing particular to say, I respect that too.
But please not the 'like' button. Please not the tepid indifference of the 'like' button. It makes me sad. :-(
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2017-02-04 08:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-02-06 01:21 pm (UTC)Sean would be good for Toby... if being with Toby didn't prove there was something inherently wrong with Sean. :-)
Thanks maze!
S.
no subject
Date: 2017-02-04 02:16 pm (UTC)Looking forward to seeing how these two will connect again.
no subject
Date: 2017-02-06 01:23 pm (UTC)Oh yeah. The one thing I was most sure of while writing this was how paranoid Sean would have to be afterwards. I honestly don't understand how anyone could work in that environment (even the real one, never mind Fontana's one) in the first place, but I think Sean's crazy to go back to work when these guys might find out he's gay and got with Beecher.
Thanks, cmk!
S.
no subject
Date: 2017-02-04 08:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-02-06 01:24 pm (UTC)Thanks shabby!
I would think Sean could do Toby a lot of good, if I wasn't concerned for Sean's decision-making skills right now. :-D
Actually... We will get to what Sean does and doesn't tell Tim, but we aren't there yet. Except he definitely doesn't tell him he's got a massive crush on him since forever.
These comments are awesome because you just made me realise I left something vital out of a later chapter, so thank you thank you thank you for that! (This is the other reason I post in parts. Readers like you save me.)
S.
no subject
Date: 2017-02-07 03:29 am (UTC)Glad I could help! I can't wait to read more!
no subject
Date: 2017-02-07 05:49 pm (UTC)acting like he'd never done a spontaneous idiotic thing in his life.
HA. Doing something that was "spontaneously idiotic" is the root of half the mistakes that consume Tim's life.
Tim was carried away with his newest idea to start a choir.
Of course. OF COURSE.
You've done a great job here of describing Sean's paranoia. I'd like to tell him to chill out, that Toby isn't THAT much of an asshole, but... I'm not really that sure if that's the case when it comes to this Toby. He just might be that much of an asshole right now.
unlike Keller, Beecher could shed it at will, change one mask for another. Sean wondered if Beecher himself still remembered who was under it all.
Ooooh, great writing, and such good insight. It basically sums up why Toby is my favorite. He's like a box of chocolates, you know? A really fucked up box of chocolates.
but now he wanted to ask what kind of institution gave the woman a psychology degree.
You and me both, Sean. You and me both...
Man, I just love having a chapter of your new fic to read with my morning coffee again! :-)
no subject
Date: 2017-02-10 06:53 am (UTC)I love writing the previouslys. They're so much easier, and a fun reminder that everything is silly if you look at it right.
I don't think you're being fair on Tim. Most of his idiocy is planned with great enthusiasm.
Choir, right?? Right?? I was scrambling for a project idea for TIm, something silly but not aging pill silly, and I realised, choir! Of course, now I want to read that.
Yeah, Toby's not all-purpose vindictive like most of them, but I wouldn't trust him not to use information if he had a use for it. Or if he was pissed off. And Sean doesn't have any particular relationship with him (or didn't until I got involved) so he wouldn't know the inner Toby like Pete would, and I can't imagine Sean would trust him very far at all.
Mmm, chocolate! It was fun taking Sean's perspective, to compare Toby and Chris. Sean, the guy who wanted Toby to stop pestering him about Chris's health after the shooting. I think to him, Toby really would just be a jumble of masks without any logical connection.
All those years of relationship Toby had with Pete, and Mukada did more for him than she ever did. Pity he couldn't have been Mukada's secretary.
Thank you!
S.