It was the moments when the house was quiet.
When His eyes were beyond red and his heart was beyond broken.
It was those moments when he would walk down the hall, down the stairs, across the foyer and in to Obideia's office.
Obi's eyes would hold his as he made his way across the over sized room.
He would sit down, kneel at the desk and lay his head on Obi's leg. Like a puppy, like a lover, like a slave.
Obi's hand would come and pet his head, holding it, caressing it. Then He would moan in to Obi's thigh.
Wait the two seconds before moving to open his fly. Stop Tony, Don't Tony, you can't Tony, wrong Tony.
Just as he would slip his mouth around Obi, Obi would stand, guiding Tony back out of the office, across the foyer, up the stairs, down the hall and into Tony's bed.
He would kiss Obi, and Obi would let him. Passion, sadness, hope and pain filled every movement of lips.
Then when he would try and get Obi to join him in bed Obi would stand and run a hand over Tony's forehead and hair.
Obi would leave, go to the phone and call one of the many women he had on retainer for times like these.
A woman to hold Tony.
To make his body sing so his mind could forget.
At least for that night, at least for that moment.
AN - I wrote this YEARS ago. Aug. 5th, 2008 to be exact. Had it posted over on livejournal, not sure why I hadn't ever posted it here. Please excuse some of the awkward wording, I wanted to keep it as it was and I didn't have a beta then, not like I do now, not. Please enjoy and review!