The Nth Zone!
Nov. 7th, 2009 07:38 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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tamingthemuseAuthor's Note: Okay, I know I am never this late and this is the nth zone, but the story is at five pages and still not done. Thus, there is slash but it's way more tame than I intended. Right now it is 8:37 pm pst here in Seattle, so it's just in under the wire.
Title: Don't Mention It, Piano Man
Author: tigerstriped86
Fandom/Pairing: Oz; Beecher/Keller AU
Rating: PG-13 (cause Keller is too sexy to warrant anything less)
Song: Michael Buble; It Had Better Be Tonight
Prompt 172: Irenic (meaning peace or something like that)
Disc.: Just AUing two of my favorite men. Don't own anything.
Summary: Play me a song, Mr. Piano man. Well Chris, Beecher will do more than that if he could get over his shyness. AU, end of the Roaring 20s.
-------------------
“Getting tired already, piano man?”
Toby was suddenly all too aware of Chris' smile. It seemed so unfair to have a smile that sneakily wonderful and wolfish at the same time. Toby covered the rise in his heart beat with a scoff. “Yeah, right. It's just the same bar flies in here, night after night these days. No one's singing anything but the blues these days.”
Chris shrugged in response, finishing wiping the spot near Toby and then replacing his mug with a fresh head of beer while flipping the towel onto his shoulder.
“Thanks, barkeep.”
“Don't mention it, piano man.”
“How much do I owe ya?”
“I'll tell you what,” Chris starts with a twinkle in his eye, “you play me something and this drink's on the house.”
Toby looks around, puzzled. “But there's really nobody in here. Those two guys in the corner are completely smashed and only a cab's ride from home. What good does my playing do for them?”
Chris merely blinks, as if the thought hadn't occurred to him. “Wasn't talking about them, Tobe.”
Chris sighs, taking a long draw out of the mug and spinning around in his chair. “Alright Chris, it's your dime.”
Sauntering over to the piano, Toby sits down and strokes the keys. There is an electricity when he touches them, and he forgets most of the time. But he misses that electricity when it's not there. He strokes a couple of tentative notes and eyeballs his pitcher with tips in it. For the week, it's not a bad haul. Too bad it's not an excellent haul either. “What do you wanna hear?”
“Doesn't matter to me.”
Toby looks over his shoulder. “I only take requests.”
Chris thinks for a moment. “Something smooth. Maybe Italian, but New York Italian. Not Italy Italian.”
Toby nods. “I can do that.”
With great pomp, he bangs on a couple of the brighter notes and begins to sing. “When the moon hits your eye....”
Toby starts to chuckle. “Oh Lord, anything but that!”
Toby waves, letting him know he was heard. “Alright, alright. I'll be completely serious now. Let's see...what to play right before we close.....”
Meglio stasera; Baby go go go
Or as we natives say
"Fa subito!"
If you're ever gonna kiss me
It had better be tonight
While the mandolins are playing
And stars are bright
If you've anything to tell me
It had better be tonight
Or somebody else may tell me
And whisper the words just right
Toby stopped, spinning around on his piano bench. “What do you think? Good enough?”
Chris nodded, watching as the cabbies came into to drag the barflies home to their wives. They would have the place to themselves soon enough. “Very nice! But that's only the first verse Toby. I want my money's worth.”
“Better be careful, barkeep. Wishes have been known to come true on occasion.”
Meglio stasera; Baby go go go
Or as we natives say
"Fa subito!"
For this poor Americano
Who knows little of your speech
Be a nice Italiano
And start to teach
Show me how in old Milano
Lovers hold each other tight
But I want you sweet paesano
It had better be tonight
“Bravo! Encore!”
Toby merely shook his head, sauntering back to the bar. “Oh stop.”
Chris took a moment to look around the bar. “Looks like we're alone Tobe.”
“Guess we are. Better count my tips and call it a night.”
Chris concentrated on wiping out mugs as they talked. “Anyone gonna miss you if you don't come home right away?”
Toby swallowed the last of the mug of beer. “Only an old stray cat who wails by my window. Looks like its gonna be a cold night.”
“Doesn't have to be. You could crash at my place.”
Toby shook his head, certain words sliding through the booze. “Oh no, I wouldn't want to impose.”
Chris set down the mug with a clink. “Believe me, if you were imposing I wouldn't have invited. Besides, we're both bachelors and it's kinda late. Wouldn't want my star getting killed on the way home.”
Toby separated his ones into one twenty bill stack. “I suppose you have a point. As long as I'm not interfering.”
Chris didn't answer the question. He merely left the bar and flicked off the lights with a sudden plunge into darkness. Toby cursed.
“What's a matter?”
“Damn it! Knocked the pile over. Now I have to count it all again.”
Chris threw the rag and heard it land on a nearby overturned chair. “Eh, count it at my place. It's not gonna dance off the ledge.”
Toby scooped up his money and followed Chris with a bit of reservation. Chris paid a little bit of money each week to stay in one of the bigger rooms. Not much of anybody could afford a hotel nowadays and it was a nice commute for him. Toby wasn't sure why, but he found himself blushing when Chris began to whistle the tune he had played.
They veered off from the normal elevators and closer to the servants elevator that staff used. It was a junkie old think with a hand brake and a rusty gate. Toby was happy they were using the old model if only because then he wouldn't be able to see the blushing heat rising over his face in the bronze reflection of the doors.
They whooshed upwards towards the back rooms of the hotel on whatever floor Chris lived on. Toby turned to see the guts of the elevator behind him.
“What do you think? Weird isn't it?”
Toby watched the ballet of levers and tubes that moved the human cargo boxes up and down. “Not really. Fascination oddly enough, almost irenic.”
“Come again?”
“Irenic...it's a Latin word for peaceful.”
Chris shook his head. “All the schooling you got and that's the best they could do for peaceful?”
“Technically it refers to just peace.”
Chris chuckled, placing one hand over Toby's wrist as he did so. Toby looked at him for a moment as his chuckle morphed into a wistful smile. They were alone enough, Toby thought, that he could even entertain the idea of...
The bell dinged as they reached the floor and both men mentally cursed to themselves. Walking down the bare hallway, Chris slipped the key to his room from his left pocket. Toby noticed the cups of his ass and how they parted a bit as he took a moment to fish for the keys. He wondered if...nah. Chris would never...would he?
“Welcome to my humble home!”
Toby entered after Chris swung the door open. He took in the layout of the place. One common room with an open kitchenette and a quiet radiator that didn't look like it sweating. There was a light on coming from the bedroom that cast an almost soft yellow glow over the main room.
“Humble nothing, Chris. This is pretty nice. No couch, though. Where am I gonna sleep?”
Chris closed in the gap as a he growled with another of those wolfish grins, causing Toby to move backwards but only a tiny step. “Where do you think?”
Toby found it hard to swallow. “Maybe this was a bad idea.”
Chris took a step back, his hands moving to the bottom of his white shirt. “Come on, Tobe. Its just us. Nobody has to know, nobody has to care what happens.”
Toby found himself following Chris on the way to his bedroom to continue the conversation. “What exactly do you think is going to happen?”
Chris mumbled his answer while brushing his teeth. Even if Toby had trouble deciphering, it wouldn't have mattered. The line of his t-shirt as it was flung over a small chair moved all the way toward the bottom of his belt and his bare back. Toby suddenly had a desire to turn tale and run. But it was probably already too late for that.
“Come again, Chris?”
Chris spit, wiped his face with a nearby towel and turned. Toby lost his ability to breathe for a moment. Chris was a magnificent specimen and suddenly he felt twelve years old again at the boys club in lower Manhattan where all the young toughs had concentrated once. Chris was so naturally built and Toby had never dreamed...well, he had never dreamed about Chris period. That he was telling anyone about.
“I said, screw what other people think. You gotta loosen up a little Tobe, or you're gonna get gray hairs on that head of yours before too long.”
In response, Toby ran fingers loosely through his blond hair. “I resent that.”
“Yeah? Let me prove it. Give me that bundle of tips of yours.”
Toby handed over the bundle without certainty. He watched Chris saunter over to the bed and then watched as Chris tilted his head, signifying that he needed Toby to join him. Reluctantly, Toby joined him on the other side of the bed. Chris held the money over the bed but pulled away when Toby reached for it.
Toby sighed, resigned “What are you doing now?”
“Teaching you to be spontaneous.”
“Come on, Chris? What is this really all about?”
Chris merely shook his head. “Just go with it. Haven't you ever wondered what it felt like to be rich?”
Toby lunged as Chris threw the money into the air, landing squarely on the bed. He reached out his arms to catch some of it as the rest cascaded all around him. The chaos of the green paper reminded him of the lights of New Years Eve and he found himself chuckling. Then his breath stopped.
The barman's lips were upon his own. He didn't push away, not at first, not until he had “regained his senses.” He found himself drawn into Chris' mouth by a warm hand around his neck. He fell into lust thinking that it was so wrong. Then Toby pushed himself away.
Chris was drawing in air, unaware that he hadn't breathed during the entire exchange. “Sorry. You were just so fucking gorgeous.”
Toby was still on the bed, but as far as he could go from Chris' half naked physique. “It's okay. Understandable...sometimes working relationships gets mixed signals.”
Chris shook his head, staring at Toby still. “Never wrong about my signals, piano man. Get back over here.”
Toby didn't move, frozen. He watched as Chris licked his lips and then wiped off his chin with the palm of his hand. Chris moved from the bed without a sound and hovered near Toby's body. Toby suddenly felt very vulnerable. Chris' lips landed on his again, but this time Toby couldn't bear to let go. They were warm against his skin, against his body, searching his very soul. It didn't feel so wrong the second time.
Title: Don't Mention It, Piano Man
Author: tigerstriped86
Fandom/Pairing: Oz; Beecher/Keller AU
Rating: PG-13 (cause Keller is too sexy to warrant anything less)
Song: Michael Buble; It Had Better Be Tonight
Prompt 172: Irenic (meaning peace or something like that)
Disc.: Just AUing two of my favorite men. Don't own anything.
Summary: Play me a song, Mr. Piano man. Well Chris, Beecher will do more than that if he could get over his shyness. AU, end of the Roaring 20s.
-------------------
“Getting tired already, piano man?”
Toby was suddenly all too aware of Chris' smile. It seemed so unfair to have a smile that sneakily wonderful and wolfish at the same time. Toby covered the rise in his heart beat with a scoff. “Yeah, right. It's just the same bar flies in here, night after night these days. No one's singing anything but the blues these days.”
Chris shrugged in response, finishing wiping the spot near Toby and then replacing his mug with a fresh head of beer while flipping the towel onto his shoulder.
“Thanks, barkeep.”
“Don't mention it, piano man.”
“How much do I owe ya?”
“I'll tell you what,” Chris starts with a twinkle in his eye, “you play me something and this drink's on the house.”
Toby looks around, puzzled. “But there's really nobody in here. Those two guys in the corner are completely smashed and only a cab's ride from home. What good does my playing do for them?”
Chris merely blinks, as if the thought hadn't occurred to him. “Wasn't talking about them, Tobe.”
Chris sighs, taking a long draw out of the mug and spinning around in his chair. “Alright Chris, it's your dime.”
Sauntering over to the piano, Toby sits down and strokes the keys. There is an electricity when he touches them, and he forgets most of the time. But he misses that electricity when it's not there. He strokes a couple of tentative notes and eyeballs his pitcher with tips in it. For the week, it's not a bad haul. Too bad it's not an excellent haul either. “What do you wanna hear?”
“Doesn't matter to me.”
Toby looks over his shoulder. “I only take requests.”
Chris thinks for a moment. “Something smooth. Maybe Italian, but New York Italian. Not Italy Italian.”
Toby nods. “I can do that.”
With great pomp, he bangs on a couple of the brighter notes and begins to sing. “When the moon hits your eye....”
Toby starts to chuckle. “Oh Lord, anything but that!”
Toby waves, letting him know he was heard. “Alright, alright. I'll be completely serious now. Let's see...what to play right before we close.....”
Meglio stasera; Baby go go go
Or as we natives say
"Fa subito!"
If you're ever gonna kiss me
It had better be tonight
While the mandolins are playing
And stars are bright
If you've anything to tell me
It had better be tonight
Or somebody else may tell me
And whisper the words just right
Toby stopped, spinning around on his piano bench. “What do you think? Good enough?”
Chris nodded, watching as the cabbies came into to drag the barflies home to their wives. They would have the place to themselves soon enough. “Very nice! But that's only the first verse Toby. I want my money's worth.”
“Better be careful, barkeep. Wishes have been known to come true on occasion.”
Meglio stasera; Baby go go go
Or as we natives say
"Fa subito!"
For this poor Americano
Who knows little of your speech
Be a nice Italiano
And start to teach
Show me how in old Milano
Lovers hold each other tight
But I want you sweet paesano
It had better be tonight
“Bravo! Encore!”
Toby merely shook his head, sauntering back to the bar. “Oh stop.”
Chris took a moment to look around the bar. “Looks like we're alone Tobe.”
“Guess we are. Better count my tips and call it a night.”
Chris concentrated on wiping out mugs as they talked. “Anyone gonna miss you if you don't come home right away?”
Toby swallowed the last of the mug of beer. “Only an old stray cat who wails by my window. Looks like its gonna be a cold night.”
“Doesn't have to be. You could crash at my place.”
Toby shook his head, certain words sliding through the booze. “Oh no, I wouldn't want to impose.”
Chris set down the mug with a clink. “Believe me, if you were imposing I wouldn't have invited. Besides, we're both bachelors and it's kinda late. Wouldn't want my star getting killed on the way home.”
Toby separated his ones into one twenty bill stack. “I suppose you have a point. As long as I'm not interfering.”
Chris didn't answer the question. He merely left the bar and flicked off the lights with a sudden plunge into darkness. Toby cursed.
“What's a matter?”
“Damn it! Knocked the pile over. Now I have to count it all again.”
Chris threw the rag and heard it land on a nearby overturned chair. “Eh, count it at my place. It's not gonna dance off the ledge.”
Toby scooped up his money and followed Chris with a bit of reservation. Chris paid a little bit of money each week to stay in one of the bigger rooms. Not much of anybody could afford a hotel nowadays and it was a nice commute for him. Toby wasn't sure why, but he found himself blushing when Chris began to whistle the tune he had played.
They veered off from the normal elevators and closer to the servants elevator that staff used. It was a junkie old think with a hand brake and a rusty gate. Toby was happy they were using the old model if only because then he wouldn't be able to see the blushing heat rising over his face in the bronze reflection of the doors.
They whooshed upwards towards the back rooms of the hotel on whatever floor Chris lived on. Toby turned to see the guts of the elevator behind him.
“What do you think? Weird isn't it?”
Toby watched the ballet of levers and tubes that moved the human cargo boxes up and down. “Not really. Fascination oddly enough, almost irenic.”
“Come again?”
“Irenic...it's a Latin word for peaceful.”
Chris shook his head. “All the schooling you got and that's the best they could do for peaceful?”
“Technically it refers to just peace.”
Chris chuckled, placing one hand over Toby's wrist as he did so. Toby looked at him for a moment as his chuckle morphed into a wistful smile. They were alone enough, Toby thought, that he could even entertain the idea of...
The bell dinged as they reached the floor and both men mentally cursed to themselves. Walking down the bare hallway, Chris slipped the key to his room from his left pocket. Toby noticed the cups of his ass and how they parted a bit as he took a moment to fish for the keys. He wondered if...nah. Chris would never...would he?
“Welcome to my humble home!”
Toby entered after Chris swung the door open. He took in the layout of the place. One common room with an open kitchenette and a quiet radiator that didn't look like it sweating. There was a light on coming from the bedroom that cast an almost soft yellow glow over the main room.
“Humble nothing, Chris. This is pretty nice. No couch, though. Where am I gonna sleep?”
Chris closed in the gap as a he growled with another of those wolfish grins, causing Toby to move backwards but only a tiny step. “Where do you think?”
Toby found it hard to swallow. “Maybe this was a bad idea.”
Chris took a step back, his hands moving to the bottom of his white shirt. “Come on, Tobe. Its just us. Nobody has to know, nobody has to care what happens.”
Toby found himself following Chris on the way to his bedroom to continue the conversation. “What exactly do you think is going to happen?”
Chris mumbled his answer while brushing his teeth. Even if Toby had trouble deciphering, it wouldn't have mattered. The line of his t-shirt as it was flung over a small chair moved all the way toward the bottom of his belt and his bare back. Toby suddenly had a desire to turn tale and run. But it was probably already too late for that.
“Come again, Chris?”
Chris spit, wiped his face with a nearby towel and turned. Toby lost his ability to breathe for a moment. Chris was a magnificent specimen and suddenly he felt twelve years old again at the boys club in lower Manhattan where all the young toughs had concentrated once. Chris was so naturally built and Toby had never dreamed...well, he had never dreamed about Chris period. That he was telling anyone about.
“I said, screw what other people think. You gotta loosen up a little Tobe, or you're gonna get gray hairs on that head of yours before too long.”
In response, Toby ran fingers loosely through his blond hair. “I resent that.”
“Yeah? Let me prove it. Give me that bundle of tips of yours.”
Toby handed over the bundle without certainty. He watched Chris saunter over to the bed and then watched as Chris tilted his head, signifying that he needed Toby to join him. Reluctantly, Toby joined him on the other side of the bed. Chris held the money over the bed but pulled away when Toby reached for it.
Toby sighed, resigned “What are you doing now?”
“Teaching you to be spontaneous.”
“Come on, Chris? What is this really all about?”
Chris merely shook his head. “Just go with it. Haven't you ever wondered what it felt like to be rich?”
Toby lunged as Chris threw the money into the air, landing squarely on the bed. He reached out his arms to catch some of it as the rest cascaded all around him. The chaos of the green paper reminded him of the lights of New Years Eve and he found himself chuckling. Then his breath stopped.
The barman's lips were upon his own. He didn't push away, not at first, not until he had “regained his senses.” He found himself drawn into Chris' mouth by a warm hand around his neck. He fell into lust thinking that it was so wrong. Then Toby pushed himself away.
Chris was drawing in air, unaware that he hadn't breathed during the entire exchange. “Sorry. You were just so fucking gorgeous.”
Toby was still on the bed, but as far as he could go from Chris' half naked physique. “It's okay. Understandable...sometimes working relationships gets mixed signals.”
Chris shook his head, staring at Toby still. “Never wrong about my signals, piano man. Get back over here.”
Toby didn't move, frozen. He watched as Chris licked his lips and then wiped off his chin with the palm of his hand. Chris moved from the bed without a sound and hovered near Toby's body. Toby suddenly felt very vulnerable. Chris' lips landed on his again, but this time Toby couldn't bear to let go. They were warm against his skin, against his body, searching his very soul. It didn't feel so wrong the second time.
