His chest arched up a bit into the touch as he smiled against Toby's lips, remembering clearly the man kissing the wound when he got back from the hospital, the feel of it-that feeling had gotten him through nights alone, and nights with the man where he wouldn't sleep but just lay in bed, listening to Toby breath and trying to push away his thoughts about death and the afterlife. His fingers had stroked it idly in the shower, being caught by surprise doing it by other inmates, a glare shutting them up. And when Toby touched it, it all came back to Chris. It was sweet, circumstances at that moment aside.
"I love you, Toby," He muttered against the man's lips, continuing the kiss.