Chapter 20
"Where
there is great love there are always miracles."
--Willa Cather
Even the key turning in the lock grated on his nerves, jarring his hearing. Jim winced and dialed down again, drawing a frown from his younger companion.
"Again?"
"Yeah." His voice was quiet, but still seemed to ring loudly in the hallway. "I can't seem to keep it dialed down."
Blair's voice was very carefully modulated. "Your system is fucked, Jim. You've had more chemicals pumped into you in the last six weeks or so than any human being deserves to suffer through. We'll get you straightened out, man."
Jim laughed awkwardly. More than my system is fucked...but we know just how bad all of it is, don't we. "You sure about that, Chief?"
In lieu of the more intimate names he couldn't quite bring himself to using yet, Jim had fallen back on the nickname he'd graced Blair with on their first meeting. It was said with a different inflection these days though, that generally brought a smile and light flush to the younger man's face, just like now. Sandburg placed a warm, gentle hand on Jim's arm, fingers curling inward in a light caress.
"I'm sure, Jim." There was a wealth of promise and meaning in those three simple words, and Jim felt his breath catch in his chest. Then Blair was pushing the door open, the tiny creak where the hinge caught because the door was slightly uneven proclaiming this to be home, even if the familiar scents rising up to greet him hadn't. Blair's face was alight with pleasure, soft shadows still remaining in his eyes, but none as insurmountable as some that had recently been banished. "Welcome home, big guy," he said softly, moving through to gesture Jim into his home. Their home.
Home, Jim thought with more than a passing satisfaction. It seemed like it had been forever. In truth, it had been nearly seven weeks since he'd been here. He moved slowly into the loft, eyes darting everywhere, taking it all in. God, I missed this place. It feels safe here. I don't sense shadows lurking everywhere. He walked around the living room, then down the hallway, pausing outside Blair's bedroom, then back into the living room. His partner was in the kitchen, water on the stove to boil. He looked up, amusement clear in his eyes when Jim paced again.
"You look like a tomcat trying to decide where to piss to mark its territory," the younger man murmured in a low, rich voice. Jim had to smile.
"The whole damn place is my territory," he said with conviction. "I just need to re-establish that."
"Yeah, right, whatever you say." Blair fell silent after that, making their tea with quick, economical movements.
Jim paced near the front door, then paused, sniffing. He walked away, then back to the door again, sniffing audibly now. "Sandburg, why do I smell blood?" He moved three steps back, then forward again.
"Cock's blood," Blair said quietly. Jim turned to toss him an inquisitive look, and Blair shrugged good-naturedly, but his eyes remained serious. "I had a white magick ritual done here, Jim, to purify and cleanse us. The blessing requires the blood of chicken -- a cock -- to be shed."
"At the front door?" Jim had halted his pacing, listening to Blair's tale.
Another eloquent shrug. "Technically, when blessing the house, the animal is killed, then buried as the foundation is laid. That would have been a bit tricky, considering the foundation is pretty implanted...so I improvised."
"Improvised." Jim's echo of the word prompted another shrug from Blair.
"It seemed right, man. You weren't here. You--" The younger man broke off as he visibly tried to quell that line of thought. "Never mind," he finished quietly. "It was just something I wanted...needed...to do."
"I'm not criticizing," Jim offered as an awkward apology. Dammit! Couldn't just leave it be, could you, Ellison. His inner voice had a snottier tone to it these days, and he ruthlessly shoved it down, hesitating indecisively in the living room, not sure what to do. He wanted so bad to go to Blair, and offer an apology, comfort him. But he felt frozen to the spot. He swallowed hard, and forced himself across room to halt in front of his friend. "I'm...sorry," he said quietly, reaching out one hand to touch Blair's shoulder. "Really."
Sandburg looked up, his eyes changing from indigo to smoke-blue and back again. "Thank you," he said, just as quietly. There was a momentary pause, then Blair lifted his own hand up to touch Jim's, giving it a light squeeze. "I'll make some dinner," he murmured. "You go...pace. Walk. Whatever you need to do."
Jim squeezed back once, then nodded.
He moved restlessly around the loft for the entire time it took Blair to make them tea and fix some sandwiches. He went upstairs twice, opening drawers and doors, just checking things out. He felt a little silly, but even with Blair's shocker of the white-magick ritual, he had to make sure things were safe he. He didn't feel safe, completely; still wasn't totally sure that Blair would be safe with him. But after over five weeks in the hospital and psych facility, he was ready to be home.
Simon had visited a few days before to bring them--Blair was with him at the time--word of the inquiry into the deaths of Chardis and Serita. The cavern where the two men had been held had been excavated at the Mayor's orders. Nearly three dozen bodies had been found, including those of the women in charge of Jim and Blair's captivity and torture. They'd been found buried beneath piles of rock and gravel, in a small chasm that had opened in what had been the ritual chamber. Both women's necks were broken, and nearly every bone in their bodies was crushed.
Thinking about it now, Jim still got strange prickles dotting up and down his spine. Little cold fingers poking at him. He didn't remember anything of their escape from there. What he knew he knew because Blair had told him.
Retribution? Justice? Aren't they the same thing? What about revenge? He shook his head. Thinking too much about any of this still made it hurt. He'd finally broken down and asked Emily about it a couple days ago, and she said some of it was suppressed or repressed memories; still more of it was probably a psychologically induced, physical reaction to the stress and trauma he'd gone through and witnessed.
"Jim? You okay, man?"
Blair's voice jerked him back from his mental meanderings, and he turned from the window he'd been staring sightlessly out of. "Fine, Chief. Well--I guess. Yeah, I'm okay."
His partner gave him an odd look, then shrugged. "C'mon, Jim. I know it's not a lot," he gestured to the sandwiches and soup on the table, "but it beats the hell out of what they were giving you."
Ellison sniffed the air to compliment what his eyes were showing him. Homemade vegetable-barley soup, thin-sliced roast beef piled high on sourdough rolls, with crumbled blue cheese. He knew without even tasting or smelling further that the sandwiches would have a unique dressing on them that he'd never totally guessed the ingredients of, and that Blair steadfastly refused to share, citing that 'everyone needs one secret recipe'. Without realizing it, his stomach rumbled; the first time he'd been truly interested in food in far longer than he cared to remember.
"Looks--and smells--good, partner," he said quietly, moving to the table. The smile that lit up Blair's face was beautiful to see. He was surprised when the younger man handed him a steaming cup and a handful of small pills. "I thought I was only taking the Zoloft?"
Blair nodded. "These are just vitamins, and herbal supplements, babe." His voice was low, gentle. "The tea is raspberry and goldenseal, to help cleanse you and draw out the worry; the pills are echinecea, garlic and a B-complex. We need to boost your immunity and get you on your feet, man. You were pumped full of poisons when we were kidnapped, and then again at the hospital. I can understand and accept some of it, but the doctors should have let you cleanse yourself, too."
"Are you doing this?" Funny, it didn't even occur to him to argue. He tossed the capsules back and swallowed with a huge gulp of water.
"Yeah. I've been doing it for a couple of weeks now. I needed to do something, to feel like I was making an effort."
"Does it help?" He rolled his tongue around in his mouth; the garlic had left an aftertaste.
"So far, yes. I'm taking a few other things too," Blair's eyes crinkled when he smiled, Jim noted absently, watching his partner closely, "but I didn't want to overwhelm you all at once."
"Good move, Sandburg." Jim's stomach rumbled again, and he reached for his spoon.
They spent the rest of the afternoon and early evening in companionable, if somewhat awkward silence. Emily had told them repeatedly, separately and together, that it would take time before either felt fully comfortable with the other. They'd spent a few hours a day together at Ocean Side, but often it had just been watching TV, or reading while one or the other napped. They hadn't done a lot of talking, save for in therapy sessions. That would come with time, as they grew used to each other again.
Blair turned the TV on for the early news, then sat down on the couch next to Jim, shifting closer than he'd sat all evening. Ellison barely had time to catch his breath from the nearness when Blair's hand slipped over his, slender, strong fingers twining with his. He felt his body jerk a little in surprise, then heard Blair's quiet sigh as he started to pull away.
"No, it's okay." He tried a smile, to reassure, but wasn't sure it worked. His face felt frozen. "Really. Leave it."
"You sure?"
Jim considered, then nodded. "It--you just caught me by surprise, I guess." He inclined his head, indicating their hands. "Feels nice."
"Yeah."
Blair's voice was low, and a little breathless. Jim heard so many things that weren't being said; that couldn't be said yet. He sighed and shifted minutely, situating himself a little closer, then trembled with suppressed excitement and fear when Blair shifted as well, and rested his head on Jim's shoulder.
"Blair, are you sure it's safe?" His voice sounded as breathless as if he'd just run miles uphill.
"I trust you, Jim."
"That wasn't what I asked."
"Yes, it was." Blair moved his head, turned to look into Jim's eyes. "Safe and trust are the same thing, babe. You need to learn to trust yourself again. Don't worry," he added, as Jim was about to speak, "we have time. I'm not going anywhere. I'll be here when you're ready."
Oh, God, what did I do to deserve you? "Promise?" His voice was hoarse, his throat tight.
"I swear, Jim. I love you, man. I'm not going anywhere." Blair's voice was soft; his eyes--the love shining in them--were softer still. Jim took a huge gulp of air when his partner shifted closer, brushing a gentle kiss over his forehead.
There it was again, that urge to take his partner, to make them lovers again. To show him how good it could be; to give him pleasure until they both screamed from it. He shuddered, unable to reconcile those feelings yet with the need to keep Blair safe. Please God, let me get over this. I love him; I want to show him. I want to be with him. Please, give me strength. He licked his lips. "God, I wish--" He stopped and swallowed. He could do it. He could say it. It would mean so much, and to be able to say it again-- "I...I love you," he finished in a ragged whisper.
The blinding light in Blair's eyes was enough to send weakness through him, centering in his knees. For a moment he was glad he was sitting because he knew his legs couldn't have supported him at that moment. He opened his mouth, wanting to say more, but unable to make the words come.
"Its okay, Jim. I understand." Blair scooted down a little and rested his head against Jim's shoulder again. "Its enough, babe."
But what happens when it stops being enough? He wondered wildly, then shoved that thought down into the far reaches of his soul, determined to just relax and enjoy the sensation of warmth resting against him.
They sat through the news, both a little stiff but neither willing to leave the closeness of the other. They had discussed sleeping arrangements at Emily's urging, and were going to keep separate beds for now. Neither was real happy with it, but neither felt ready to sleep with the other.
When he caught himself nodding off for the third time in ten minutes, Blair finally shifted uneasily. "I hate to, but I gotta go to bed, man." His face was drawn into a frown. I don't want to leave you when we're finally able to relax, even a little bit, together. Jim nodded.
"I'm getting tired, too," he said quietly. "Guess it's time for bed, huh."
"Yeah." Blair nodded and yawned, his body urging him toward sleep. He wasn't sure why; it wasn't like he slept well. Maybe tonight would be the one different night. He hoped every night, though it hadn't happened yet. With a quiet groan he shifted himself from Jim's side and stood up, his body shuddering as he stretched. He felt Jim's eyes watching him and smiled shakily. "This is awful, isn't it. So--awkward."
Ellison nodded. "I hate it," he said very quietly. "I know Emily said it'll get better, but I still--it hurts. To remember--what it was like..."
"And to know that no matter how good it gets, it won't be the same." Blair finished the thought for him. It will be great when we're there, and ready for it...but I'm always going to miss what we had, and wonder what it might have been like, if we'd found each other on our own. Jim still sat on the couch, his body a little stiffer. "You sure--about sleeping apart?"
Jim watched him for a moment, his lips compressing tightly. "No," emerged as a thin, high-pitched sound. "But I'm not sure--if I can sleep--together."
I hope the bitch is burning in hell for this. For Jim, for me, for what she did to us. His own lips compressed, bits of anger still floating about within him. It would take a long time for the anger to burn out completely, but at least it wasn't directly aimed at Jim any longer. He drew a deep breath and extended a hand. "C'mon, man. Things'll look better in the morning."
Jim took the proffered and pushed up from the couch. "You believe that?" There was a trace of the old Ellison in those words.
Blair smiled, a little wistfully. "I keep telling myself that. That every day will be a little bit better than the day before it. That the anger will go away, and the pain will ease. I have to believe it will, Jim. I have to. Anything else is, well, unthinkable."
His roommate nodded thoughtfully, and Blair found himself wishing he could read Jim's mind. Could know what was going on inside that brain of his. He yawned again, then gave Jim a hesitant smile. It was returned, mostly. Dammit. This was beyond awkward, this was awful. He opened his mouth, but Jim beat him to the punch.
"Go to bed, Sandburg. I don't even need Sentinel sight to know you're about dead on your feet. I'm gonna get a glass of water, then head up myself."
I've been about dead on my feet for weeks now. How come you're just now noticing it? He regretted the thought instantly; it wasn't fair to Jim to be assigning blame when the older man was just now becoming part of the world again. But then, had it been fair when he was the sole support system for both of them? There seemed to suddenly be a yawning chasm in between them. He startled when Jim's hand touched his cheek, a single finger smoothing along his jawbone. Wide, sky-blue eyes regarded him silently when he looked up. Light blue, the color of a summer sky, that held so much love, and so much sadness he felt his own eyes sting briefly.
"I'll work through it all, Jim. Don't worry. As long as we can do this together--"
Ellison nodded. "All the way, Blair." Another finger joined the one touching him, and stroked his cheek before moving away. "Night, Blair."
"G'night, Jim."
This was the worst yet. His first night home, and he couldn't sleep. Too tired to stay awake; too scared to close his eyes. Why scared? Because Blair was close, again? Or because Blair wasn't close enough? When would things start feeling normal again? Would they ever feel normal?
He climbed into bed, aching desperately for what had been; wondering what would be. Could they get past this? They had to. He had to. Whatever the next steps were, would have to come from him. Blair had held the burden of their support for long enough on his own, and while neither was operating as the sole source of support now, what they had was very new, very fragile. There were a lot of strong emotions free-floating right now. It was scary, and exhausting, and he wanted so badly for it to be over--the healing, everything. He wanted to be free to hold his partner, to take him in a lover's embrace without the shadows that were looming over him constantly.
Jim let his tightly reined-in hearing wander a little; downstairs Blair was rustling and moving--probably getting ready for bed. Images flashed through his mind of the week plus that they'd slept together, huddled against each other on a narrow bed. Not even for the sex, but taking and giving comfort.
Rustle. Sandburg shifted. There was a quiet sigh, then a soft grunt, then silence for a moment.
Rustle. Sandburg shifted again. Another sigh, then a low cough, then more shifting. The barest of whispers floated up to him. "...damn...", carried on waves of pain and loneliness and longing. Much like what he was feeling.
He squeezed his eyes shut, wishing he could do the same with his ears. As long as he heard Blair, he wanted to go to him. Wanted comfort; wanted to give comfort. They were both hurting, they needed each other. Wasn't that what Blair had been saying all along? That they needed each other to heal. He shivered as a shadow tripped across his mind, and in the darkness he saw the black hole of that shadow waiting for him. Loneliness. He ached with it. It was frightening, how alone he could feel right now.
And the thing that was scaring him the most, that could also be his healing, his salvation, was less than 100 feet away, shifting restlessly in his own bed.
Jim got up and stood at the top of the stairs for a long time, just listening, trying to decide if this was the right thing to do. He shuddered at the thought of being alone with this all blackness still moving inside him. The first step had to come from him. Blair wouldn't approach him; he knew how torn up Jim was over everything that had happened. Could he do it? Just--go, get in bed with him? A memory of laying with his partner, cuddled against him, stroking him, moved through him leaving a gentle warmth in its wake. A warmth the coldness in his soul was crying for. He took a deep breath and headed down the steps, very quietly.
From his vantage point just outside Blair's room, his partner appeared asleep. It was a restless sleep, judging from the tossing and turning and shifting, and the quiet moans that filled the air from time to time. Jim stood and watched, aching with the need to hold and be held. He needs me as bad as I need him. He wondered how long it had been since Blair had slept well, all night long. The fact that the door was open, a soft light still burning in the living room, and the bathroom light still on down the hall was indicative of a good many things. Maybe kids aren't the only ones who hear and see things that go bump in the night.
He could still feel Blair's arms tight and strong around him; could feel the strength in the lean, compact body he'd held and loved. A need to hold him again, to know that he was loved and accepted, rose so strong in him he nearly sobbed out loud with it. Before his brain could process what he was doing, his legs had led him slowly, hesitantly, through the open door to Blair's bedside.
He'd barely made it over the threshold when the younger man shifted, his heart rate and breathing changing, accelerating. The smaller figure pushed upward, peering toward him. "Jim--?"
"Its--yeah, its me, Chief." Was that hoarse, husky voice his? He could almost hear the tremors in it. They matched the ones sweeping through his body. Blair's breathing evened out with his affirmation.
"You okay, babe?" The quiet voice was sleep-fogged, but loving.
He paused for a long moment, not sure how to answer. Was he? He swallowed. "I--need--" Shit, this was hard. Because admitting it meant that the walls were coming down, and that left him vulnerable. "I need to feel you," he finished, more harshly than he'd intended.
There was a brief silence, then a low, breathy sound that could have been a sigh. He couldn't tell what Blair what thinking, despite the light that illuminated his face. Then the shadows and light across his face shifted, and Jim saw only welcome, a need for the same thing. "C'mon in," Blair whispered softly, rolling back to his side and scooting inward to make room for the bigger man.
Jim skinned the covers back carefully and slid in, his breath coming in shallow, harsh pants of nervousness. He stopped, frozen, when Blair shifted, certain he was going to be told never mind, go away. When his friend had stilled but for one look over his shoulder, an eyebrow raised in question, Jim finished getting in. Slowly, very slowly, he moved toward the warm figure, slow tears leaking unheeded from his eyes. He wound his arms around Blair's waist and pressed their bodies together, chest to back, the dark curly hair catching the silvery drops as they fell.
"I love you," he whispered very softly. A quick breath, and his voice came again, "I need you."
Blair pushed back against him, closing the space between, his hands coming round to hold Jim's, anchoring them together. "I love you too," he whispered just as softly. "And I need you more than you'll ever know."
"I know," Jim said quietly into damp curls. "I see it--in your eyes." His arms tightened as Blair sighed and relaxed fully back against him. He hesitated for a moment, then brushed a gentle kiss across the back of Blair's neck. His partner murmured a quiet noise of approval and snuggled closer. The warmth that radiated through Jim had nothing to do with sex and everything to do with love and safety. There were no shadows here, just love and light.
He buried his face in the warmth of Blair's neck, and, holding him tightly, slept.
It was the first morning in far, far longer than he cared to remember that he woke up slowly, feeling rested. His wake-ups for the last six weeks generally left him feeling panicked, scared, out-of-control and exhausted. Blair stretched very slowly, the hard body behind him shifting a little to accommodate, but not moving or relaxing its grip on him.
No dreams. No monsters. No shadows of what was. Just warmth. Delicious, widespread warmth. He'd never felt so comfortable. The hands shifted a little, rubbing gently over his chest, smoothing and stroking. With a low sigh, Blair stretched slightly, arching into the comforting touch, nearly purring with delight. It felt good to be touched again.
The hands never left his chest and stomach; the touch never became more than comforting, but he knew the exact moment when Jim woke up fully, because the hands froze in place on him and the breath that had been stirring his hair gently ceased for a long, painful moment. He stroked the hand curled in toward his ribs and smiled, though he knew Jim wouldn't see it. "It's okay, Jim. It felt nice."
"It did?" The older man was still frozen against him, his fingers twitching like he wanted to jerk away. Blair was thankful for whatever was keeping that from happening.
"Yes, it did." Blair shifted, pushing back against his partner. "I liked it." And I don't want you to stop. Not now, not ever. There was total silence behind him and Blair sighed as quietly as he could manage then wiggled. "Can I turn over? I'd--like to see you."
"Yes." Jim's whisper was thick, hoarse. Blair rolled away, shifting onto his back, then his other side. He left a little distance between them, thinking Jim would be more comfortable. To his surprise, the older man shook his head jerkily and shifted closer toward him. "Don't--go. Please. It felt--so good to hold you. I need to hold you, Blair." Light blue eyes stared at him, and underneath the shadows that lurked within, Blair could see the need and love. He could see the Jim Ellison he'd known before.
"I'll never go, babe," he whispered back. This felt so good. So right. He moved a little closer and breathed a shaky breath when Jim gathered him against his chest. Oh, God. I didn't think he'd ever hold me again. It's been so long. God, whoever... Thank you. He let his arms move around to return the embrace, nuzzling gently against Jim's neck, breathing in the warm scent of his partner.
A soft sound met his ears and he shivered when he realized it was Jim; it was a low-pitched moan; not exactly pain, but not precisely pleasure, either. Like a pressure release from a wounded, healing soul. He reacted to it, because he felt the same within himself. Blindly, instinct driving him because if he thought about it, he'd never be able to do it, he kissed Jim's neck, then moved up to brush an easy kiss over the tense, narrow lips waiting there.
At first Blair thought the kiss would be rejected, then Jim's mouth softened under his, lips meeting lips easily, fully. A quiet whimper rose around them, and Blair's head spun when he realized he didn't know which one of them made it. He shuddered and drew away for just a moment to catch his breath, then leaned back in and moved his mouth over Jim's again. To his surprise the other man let his open somewhat, and Blair moaned into it when he tasted the love and longing there. Jim's tongue rose hesitantly to meet his and he shivered violently within the circle of arms holding him.
One kiss ended and melded into another, then another, then yet another. When both men were breathless and whimpering Blair drew back enough to give them space to breathe. Jim's face was flushed and he looked a little dazed, a little confused. A ghost of a smile moved across Blair's face when he looked closely, because Jim's face was mirroring what he felt inside. A large warm hand rose to touch his mouth hesitantly, and he kissed the finger stroking his kiss-swollen lips.
"You've got the bravest, most beautiful soul," Jim whispered, almost silently. "I don't know--would I have been brave enough to do that?"
"When the time's right, you will," Blair promised, kissing the finger again. "We're doing things according to what feels right to us; what will feel right when we do it. I couldn't ever have climbed into bed with you, Jim."
"I needed to--"
"And I needed to kiss you. Connect with you. And it was...it was good, wasn't it." Blair's voice was a little breathless, low and husky.
"It was great." A slow smile stretched Jim's mouth and he felt a chuckle rise up from within him when Blair echoed the smile. "It felt fucking great, Sandburg. Scary as hell, but great."
They stared at each other for a long moment, eyes glowing, lips smiling.
The sun chose that moment to shine through the windows.
Reality wasn't as great as that first morning. They spent a lot of time dancing awkwardly around each other, and for every step forward, it sometimes seemed as though they took at least that backward.
Physical intimacy was one of the backsteps. He'd been home for nearly two weeks now, and they were no further in that than they'd been when he first walked in the door. Or rather, not at his initiating. Blair could kiss him, snuggle to him, rub and cuddle him. And he'd give right back...but he couldn't start it, dammit! He couldn't get past the little voice in his head that kept insisting he'd lose control. Why it made a difference if Sandburg started it, he didn't know. Deep down he knew he was using that as an excuse for the absolute, paralyzing fear he felt whenever he thought about just reaching out and *touching* Blair--but he needed to make the excuse, at least to himself, for now.
He hated that change in their relationship, more than anything else that had happened. No matter how close they got lately, snuggling, or enjoying a few kisses, things weren't the same. Never would be the same. Everything, he acknowledged reluctantly, had changed a little bit, but that one area had suffered the most.
At least some things haven't changed all that much, he mused, looking around at the bustling activity of the bullpen.
He'd been cleared to go back to desk duty. In another week or two he'd start weapons requalification, and retake his physical training tests. Meanwhile, he could begin working on the paper angle of cases, and re-orient himself.
Simon was insisting on half-days for now, while Jim slowly reacquainted himself with life and police work again. Blair had gone back to school yesterday, to try and pick up the pieces of his academic life. His teaching load had been reassigned, because he'd been off for too long. He was even now negotiating with the Dean and the members of his committee, and the board about how that would affect tuition, and how the missed time could affect his dissertation. The worst of it is, we can't even tell people why we're so fucked up--not the real reasons, anyway. Yeah, sure, we were kidnapped and tortured...but that's not generally enough to send folks into catatonia...or is it? And Blair...he's gonna hurt for a long time. Jim glanced down at his desk, idly tracing the letter "B" on his calendar. They were both going to hurt for a long time. He could still feel the pain from when Blair said that he was angry with Jim; that he blamed him. He understood; hell, he blamed himself. And he knew what Blair meant--it wasn't a conscious thing, or even a total thing. But the part of Blair that had been hurt so badly by the one who'd sworn to never do that--that part needed a focus.
He understood that. But it still, two weeks later, hurt like a son-of-a-bitch. And some of that pain was fueling the need for absolute control over himself. Unlike before, when it was a "I have to stay in control because" situation, small lapses he could tolerate, so long as no one else was around when it happened.
But this... He shook his head and moved on to trace a "J" over the other letter. He absolutely couldn't lose that control again. And there was a war waging inside him right now, wanting Blair so badly: to touch him, to love him, to give him pleasure; then the other side that insisted he keep up a distance, a barrier, because he couldn't hurt what he didn't touch.
Except that the touching gave them both such pleasure--both sexual and non-sexual. Not that sexual has been much of a concern lately. No matter how good it feels, I can't seem to find the 'on-switch'...not for real, anyway. That worried him, too. He found Blair physically attractive, hell, some nights when they were lying together, wrapped around each other, he wanted him with a hunger that seemed to burn through his soul. But he didn't react, physically, and he could see hurt mixed in with the understanding whenever Blair looked at him.
He looked up when Simon's voice rang out, calling his name, grateful for the distraction. He spent too much time in his head lately. It was good to be back to work, to spend some time doing something besides so much introspection.
The phone quit ringing just as he ran through the door, spilling groceries from the paper bag, and dropping his backpack.
"Goddamn--" Blair snapped his jaw shut on the curse and bent to pick up the dropped grocery items. At least nothing had broken. A strange shimmer caught his vision and he blinked, aware on some level that there'd been some strange time shift for a moment. Oh, not a physical one. Within himself. He straightened and set the bag on the table, then looked around, remembering the first time he'd walked in here, how the bareness of the place had been nearly overwhelming.
His eyes moved slowly around the large, airy room, taking in the changes that had been affected since that day, and considering the further changes wrought in the last two months ago.
Two months ago I was half in love with Jim, and wondering if there was any chance in hell. Wondering if it was what I wanted. I was still fairly ignorant of sex between men, at least from the personal experience angle. I was totally clueless about Jim's preferences. I was a virgin. He snorted at his own thought, laughing aloud then when the visual of a virgin, innocent Blair whapped upside the head. Okay, okay. Not a virgin, but I'd never had a guy inside me before. Why am I hung up on that? It's not like I was 'saving' myself, particularly. And its not like Jim didn't have it...Fuck. He sat down on the sofa and looked around. I used to fantasize about making love in front of the fire; about kissing and cuddling and loving all night long, upstairs. They hadn't slept upstairs since Jim came home.
I had the dreams, and the reality is that I'm scared of my own fucking shadow; Jim is so messed up he can't even get hard when I stroke and kiss and rub. I know he hasn't jacked off once since he's been home; I doubt he was doing it in the hospital, either. A frustrated sigh welled up, and he jerked in surprise when several hot tears dripped down his cheeks. It's not just about sex, though God knows I want to try that again, too. It's--everything. I want to be his partner in all ways. He says he loves me; I can see the emotion in his eyes when he looks at me. Is it me? Am I doing something wrong? Or is he that afraid of losing control again? What if I showed him that he wouldn't--and if he lost it a little, it'd be okay? Sandburg wiped at the tears on his face and got back to his feet, an idea beginning to form in his brain. He wasn't ready for penetrative sex yet--not mentally, anyway-- and he had the feeling that Jim would run screaming in the opposite direction if he tried anything too intense yet. Maybe there was a way, though, to relax his uptight partner, and make him see--let him see--that the physical could be good, too.
The loft smelled good. Jim could smell the herbs as he got off the elevator. Some kind of potpourri, he decided, sniffing. Nothing too sweet, nothing too strong. No sage, thank god. Just a warm, homey kind of smell. The kind he associated with Blair.
It was dim inside, he realized, as he set his keys down and hung up his jacket. The shades were drawn against the early night of autumn, and the single light burning was turned on low. He sniffed deeply, taking in the scents. Candle wax. Smoke. A quick glance over toward the fireplace confirmed the last; a glance upward confirmed the first when he saw the glint of candlelight shimmering off the windows upstairs. And threading through all this was another, gentler olfactory assault: bayberry, a touch of sandalwood, and a bit of something else he couldn't identify readily. He'd called a halt to the herbal testing Blair had starting putting him through early on in their relationship, so he didn't know them all. But it still smelled familiar.
"Chief? You in here?" He knew he was; he had him pinpointed by his heartbeat. But Blair didn't have sentinel hearing, and although he'd probably heard the door open, it was courtesy to announce himself before scaring the shit out of the younger man.
"I'm up here, Jim," Blair called softly to him.
Upstairs. Jim shuddered lightly. He hadn't gone up there, for reasons he still couldn't pin down, except to dress or get clothes. They slept in Blair's bed at night. The narrow bed that reminded him of the bed they'd shared in captivity. Are you avoiding reality, and trying to fix what happened by making it 'good', in similar recreations? That damned little voice again. This time it wasn't snotty though, it was making sense. Good sense. Was that what he was trying to do? He couldn't fix what had happened, but he could recreate--and make it better? A flush of embarrassment ran through him, and for a moment he was rooted to the spot.
"Jim?"
Blair's voice was still low, but held a note of concern. Jim sighed. "I'm coming, Chief."
The bedroom was awash in candlelight. Large ones, small ones, some scented, some not. Jim looked around slowly as he came up the stairs, his eyes taking in the relaxed, easy atmosphere in the room. Blair had plugged in his boom box and had a low, soothing CD with an easy jazz beat playing. The scent of herbs was lighter up here, and he could smell blended oil as well. Blair was dressed in loose sweats and a T-shirt, sitting in a lotus position in the center of the bed. He smiled at Jim as he stepped onto the landing.
"Hi, babe."
"Hi. What's up with this?" It's different, but kind of nice. Relaxing. I could handle being relaxed.
Blair shrugged. "Just thought we could use a little easy-going relaxation. It was a hell of a day at the U, and I'll bet yours was busy, too." He patted the bed beside him. "Why don't you get your sweats on, and come sit with me?"
"What about dinner?"
"It's in the fridge--all we have to do is warm it up when we're ready to eat. C'mon, Jim. Sit and let's relax. Talk."
Talk? Oh, God...not more of that. Please, not tonight. Not now. I'm tired, I'm uncomfortable...that makes me too vulnerable. Some of his feelings must have shown on his face, because Blair sighed, his face falling. Oh, man, I can't let him down. Not when he's obviously gone to so much trouble. I'm sorry, Blair! He stepped forward, hand already jerking at the buttons on his shirt. "I'm sorry, Chief. I don't--I don't know how much talking I'm good for, but I'll relax with you. It sounds good. Relaxing, I mean."
He made short work of the shirt and pants, folding them neatly before laying them on top of the dresser. His sweats were already out, so he pulled them on, leaving his T-shirt untucked, like Blair's.
His partner had laid back and was watching him, and the frank appraisal made him shift uneasily, several emotions winding through him in quick succession. Love, desire and fear. He wasn't sure which one was stronger; love and fear seemed to be slugging it out right now, but desire was close behind.
"I had a thought," he began awkwardly, pulling the sweats on.
"Yeah?"
"What if--what if I'm sabotaging us?"
"How d'you mean?" Blair leaned up on one elbow, watching as Jim made his way over to the bed. He hesitated beside it, then climbed on, shifting over toward Blair. The younger man rolled toward him and put one arm across Jim's waist. "Why would you think that?"
Mint toothpaste. He smells like mint toothpaste. Of all the silly, meaningless things he could have thought of in that instant, that was probably at the top of the list. Jim shrugged awkwardly and tried for a smile. "We haven't been--up here--since I got home. I keep us...sleeping downstairs, on that little bed, like she did, and I don't know--"
"Oh, Jim." Blair's voice was warm, sympathetic and loving. His vision swam for a moment when the younger man moved in closer to him, lips hovering just above his. "Baby, you're not sabotaging anything. You're trying to stay safe. I know, Jim, because I find a hundred ways a day to do the same thing. It's okay, babe."
"You sure?" Jim closed his eyes, feeling the forgiveness Blair was offering wash over him. Was it that easy? To lay down a little bit of the load? Somehow he doubted it, but maybe. At least a little bit.
A gentle hand skimmed down his chest, stroking slowly, deliberately. "I'm sure," Blair whispered into his ear.
He moaned softly and felt himself arch up into the touch. "Blair," he whispered harshly. "Please, baby, I don't think I can--"
"Nothing more than you want, or I want, Jim. Just relax. Let yourself feel everything."
Soft lips traced down his neck. "I'm scared," he whispered, one hand coming up hesitantly to touch Blair's back. "Please, Blair, I don't think--"
The younger man drew back a few inches. "Do you want to just lie here? I didn't plan this as a seduction, Jim. I seriously meant it to just be relaxing for us. Y'know, lay here, listen to the music, just be together."
How do I tell you this is exactly what I want, but I'm so fucking scared of it I'm shaking inside? It suddenly felt like the last two weeks of touching, rubbing and kissing hadn't existed. As if this was the first time he'd laid a hand on Blair since their escape. Sweat beaded his forehead and a low moan flowed from his throat. Can you feel it, Blair? How much I want you, and how scared I am of that? It's why I haven't been able to give you more of myself. If I get an erection, if I'm aroused, I'm not in control any more. Am I? If I could have stopped myself from getting an erection before, I'd never have hurt you...Oh, baby, I'm so sorry. "Forgive me?" He blurted, not even aware he'd spoken out loud. Blair's eyes mirrored the shock and pain he felt in his own soul.
There was no hesitation, no stuttering. "I forgive you, Jim. I always have--even when I was angry with you."
The relief that swept through him was nearly crushing in its intensity. Had he asked before? Had Blair refused? No...that wouldn't have happened. Would it? He shuddered with the fierce emotions fluttering around in him. Terror leapt to mind; desire was strong, love nearly overwhelming. Hunger and need, so intense, so ferocious, he wasn't sure his body could contain them. And tenderness. A gentle warmth moving through him at the thought of how much Blair loved him, and how much he loved in return.
Wide blue eyes, the color of oceans during a storm, stared down at him; soft, full lips parted for a gentle whisper. "I want to taste you, Jim. Kiss you...and feel your love. I can see it, y'know. It's in your eyes, on your face...so strong. Can I?"
He watched those eyes darken with the words spoken, and felt himself nod, with no recollection of making the motion. Ellison tracked the downward movement of Blair's head slowly...so slowly...then closed his eyes just as a warm, soft mouth covered his. He heard a moan, then another, and felt warmth move into him as Blair's tongue stroked over his lips, coaxing him to open for him.
It felt so good. Blair felt good, hugging up to him, his mouth making love to Jim's. The bigger man shuddered as hunger licked through him, spiced with love, tempered still by fear. Blair rolled to his side, tugging Jim with him, pulling him tighter against him as their bodies began slowly undulating.
"I want you," Blair whispered into his mouth. "I need you. So bad. I love you, Jim..." The kiss ended when warm damp lips moved from his jawline and then down his neck, licking and gently kissing. Blair was mapping him, tasting and learning each inch of his body. Jim moaned when that incredible mouth attached itself to his throat, sucking gently on the pulse throbbing there. He shifted against his--lover--and moaned again when his erection throbbed against his sweats.
"I'm hard," he whispered, arching his head back. "God, baby, I'm hard for you--" He shuddered and slowly uncurled his hands from Blair's biceps, moving them slowly up and down the sturdy, strong arms.
"I know," Blair said in a throaty voice, moving back up to kiss Jim's mouth. "I know, babe, I can feel you. Ahhh, Jim...it's so good. You feel so good against me, lover."
"Blair--I want to...but I'm scared..." Jim buried his face in Blair's neck, then pressed his lips lightly to the vein throbbing there. "It feels so good, but I'm so afraid of--of hurting you..."
Sandburg whimpered, the sound echoing through Jim's lips. "Then we go slow, do this right. It's all right, baby. I'm scared, too. Let's just feel, Jim. Let go and feel ourselves." He very gently bit down into the soft skin just below Jim's ear.
A long, violent spasm shook Jim's body and he clutched Blair tighter to him. "Please," he hissed quietly. "Don't let me hurt you." His hips bucked into Blair's, drawing a low moan from his lover.
"Never," Blair promised, pushing his hips forward to meet Jim's.
It was awkward, and clumsy, and easily the most beautiful thing he'd ever done. They'd ever done. Hips moving against each other; hot, leaking erections throbbing as they met and rubbed, even with cloth layers in between, dulling a little of the sensation. Kisses, which were hot and wet, and gentle and easy. Hands moving and touching, sliding against cloth, then under cloth, stroking and arousing. Jim moaned and arched when Blair's fingers slid over his nipples, pulling very gently. Then they were holding each other tight, rubbing with long, frantic strokes, faces buried in each other's shoulder as their bodies soared higher, the tension in them spiraling out of control.
Jim clutched at Blair when that familiar but unfamiliar sensation slammed into him, seizing the control he hadn't loosed in months. He sucked in breath after breath, trying to fill his lungs, to push the sensations down. Blair shook his head and leaned his head in, whispering "go with it!" before taking Jim's mouth very gently, tongue stroking easily as they stiffened against each other, their cocks pulsing behind damp sweat-material.
It was a powerful orgasm that they stroked each other through, holding fast to shoulders and arms, lips touching, then not, as the emotions sent them soaring higher even than the physical was doing. It was frightening, exhilarating, loving, tender, hot and terrifying all at the same time. Jim felt like a roller-coaster might've been tame compared to this, but when Blair leaned forward and licked his tears off his cheeks, he sobbed with unabashed emotion, holding the younger man tightly against him.
"Forever," he whispered, his voice hoarse with the sobs still moving through him.
Blair nodded, his own whisper an echo of the emotions in Jim's. "Forever."
They held each other tightly, dropping slowly into sleep, bodies damp and cooling, and at peace for the first time in weeks.
It was a typical, crazy morning in the Ellison-Sandburg household; therapy, work, school. Schedules to be met, appointments to be kept. Even the impatience of waiting for his turn in the bathroom couldn't dull the glow that was still spreading through him from last night. Jim grinned to himself, feeling almost comfortable with himself. He checked the clock over the stove again and paced into the hallway.
"Sandburg, I gotta finish getting ready! Aren't you *done* yet?" This felt familiar. Enough so that he heard a low growl in his voice. They had their appointment with Liz in an hour, and rush-hour traffic to navigate.
"Hang on, man," he heard his partner mumble. "I'll be done in a minute."
"What the hell are you doing, anyway? I just need to brush my teeth."
"Well...come on it, then. I'm shaving--but you can share the sink."
Jim
rolled his eyes skyward and opened the bathroom door. His partner was indeed
shaving, but--
"You always shave in the buff, Chief?" Wow--did he really sound that
hoarse? He averted his eyes quickly, then found himself drawn to stare at the
smaller man. It'd been a long time since he'd seen Blair's naked body. Any
cuddling they'd done--hell, everything last night--was always under the covers,
and either partially, or fully clothed.
"If I haven't had time to dress, yeah." Blair returned his scrutiny through the mirror. "You okay, babe?"
"I--don't know," he responded, his voice sounding rough and gravelly. "I--"
It was something he hadn't allowed himself to feel in a while, but which had been resurrected last night. Desire. Toward Blair. He shivered with the intensity of the feeling rushing through him.
"Jim?" he watched Blair turn toward him, a silent question in his eyes, the verbal one on his lips. His lips. Ellison found his gaze drawn there, held there, almost as if invisible hands were holding his head still, forcing his eyes to remain focused in that one spot.
As he watched, Blair's tongue darted out to moisten his lips, and Jim felt the intensity surge, like the tide pushing for the shore. A small shudder rolled through him and he moved a little closer, noting almost automatically that Blair's eyes were dilating. A warm, rich, musky smell rose into the air around them and he breathed it in, filling his lungs deeply. Arousal. Was that what it was? His or Blair's? Both of theirs? He reached a hand out to touch the auburn curls flowing loose over strong shoulders, and saw that he was shaking. His stomach tightened, the cold hand of fear clenching it hard, then releasing him. It was like getting kicked in the gut, the strength of the emotion that rushed through him. He moaned softly, then moved forward, closing the small space still left between him and Sandburg. He threaded his fingers through those silken curls and leaned down, covering the lush mouth with his own, gasping silently when warm, full lips opened beneath his, allowing his tongue entry into the warm, moist cavern.
This was it. He was initiating this kiss! He curled his fingers through Blair's hair again, then released it, sliding his hands down to hold the younger man closer to him. It was intoxicating, this kiss. He felt so much--fear, joy, relief, love. So many other things he could scarce put a name to. God, he'd wanted--needed!--to do this for so long. To love Blair back. To give back just a little of what had been given to him.
It felt like a bubble growing inside him. Transparent and fragile, but strong too, and full of hope. Full of potential. Jim pulled back from Blair and framed the much-loved face with his hands, smiling into it. "Its gonna be okay, isn't it." His voice was hopeful, full of love.
A wide, bright smile--that rivaled the sun for its brilliance--shone into his face, deep indigo eyes reflecting it. "It is. Its okay now...and its just gonna get better."
"I'm gonna hold you to that," Jim said quietly, letting his emotions bleed into his voice. He felt so much right now, he couldn't narrow one down, really, but that was okay. He had time. They had time. He gathered Blair closer to savor the feeling of being able to hold him close.
Chapter 21
The world
is round and the place which may seem
like the end may also be only the beginning.
--Ivy Baker Priest
It was the end of a long day, and a longer week. Blair threw himself on the couch, kicking his shoes off with abandon. House rules were pretty much out the window anyway, and though he tried to remember and follow them, sometimes things just called for a little more drama than adhering.
He idly noted the hole in the toe of his sock, then wondered where Jim was. Working late, probably. Two murders, an arson investigation, and sabotage at the local iron-smelting plant. Blair sighed. On top of Jim's schedule, his own included teaching two classes, and taking two. Those were dissertation-related, mostly research, but still required some of his time. He sighed again. Then there was therapy. Twice a week for both of them individually, plus one together. He rubbed the bridge of his nose where his glasses had left a permanent indent. He was tired. He wanted to crawl upstairs, strip off, and just pass out. Preferably for a month or two, when some of the craziness was over.
Bed's not as much fun without Jim in it, though. The odd thought caught him off-guard, and he smiled. Six months ago, hell, three months ago he couldn't have thought that. They'd made so much progress in that time. Not that there haven't been the downs with the ups.
The first major down had been about a month after Jim kissed him, when Jim started having problems--more than he'd been having--getting an erection. They'd kissed, they'd rubbed, they'd stroked. He would be moaning and panting, harshly rigid and throbbing. Jim, even though he'd be moaning and panting along with him, would be only partially hard--if that. It added a level of tension to their relationship that they didn't need. They were barely coping with what was there.
Emily adjusted Jim's medication levels, telling them that Zoloft frequently caused functional impotence in men who were taking it. The trick was to find a level of the drug that would help keep Jim level, and wouldn't cause such an effect on his physical system.
And we still haven't found it, since he still has some problems, Blair thought with a twinge of bitterness. He hated thoughts that led him back to their captivity and to Chardis.
Which, he admitted to himself, seemed to be anything and everything, some days. Another sigh, and Blair got to his feet to get dinner started. Something that could either be reheated or simmer indefinitely on the stove. Potato-cheese-bacon soup. Not hard to fix, and it wouldn't matter if it simmered for a while. He made his way to the kitchen, mind casting around as he went, not quite ready to let the past go yet.
They'd finally put all the pieces of the cult-puzzle together, and laid the whole to rest. Forensics had done tests of course, when the bodies had been recovered, and the results were followed up on slowly, as time permitted. After all, the perpetrators were dead, so the case was considered closed. Jim and Blair had felt the need for a little more closure than just knowing it was over. Sharon Dister, aka Chardis, was a severely disturbed woman hospitalized after a nervous breakdown when told she couldn't have children. Her cousin, Sarah Collins, aka Serita, had helped her break out of the hospital she'd been in. Mark Dister, Sharon's husband, was their first victim. Seattle police, working in tandem with Cascade PD uncovered his bones, buried in a shallow grave in their backyard. Sharon was raised in the Pentecostal Church; when she made her 'break', it was 180 degrees into the opposite direction. Blair shivered just thinking about it, now. Jim had personally interviewed one of Sharon's sisters, and commented to his partner later on the venom in the woman's voice when she talked about homosexuals, and their evil ways. She couldn't believe her sister would have had anything to do with 'those types of people'. It seemed apparent that Sharon had redirected what was likely extreme homophobia, among other things, to her own purposes.
"Why us though?" Sandburg raised his attention from the pot of potatoes he was stirring, wondering out loud. He'd asked that question so many times over the last eight months. Half the men Chardis kidnapped hadn't been gay, nor desirous of such a thing. I can't think of her as Sharon. That humanizes her...and she wasn't human with what she did to us.
He still had no answer. Jim didn't have an answer. No one did. It was just one of those things, as Emily liked to say.
It was working out though. Slowly, with a lot of hard work on their parts, they were starting to recapture the essence of their relationship before all this had happened. They were more at ease now, more comfortable with each other.
He stirred the soup and tried to push away uncomfortable thoughts; to relax and enjoy the knowledge that it was Friday, and they had the whole weekend off, barring something unforeseen.
Maybe we could go camping. Fishing. Something away from here, for a day or so. Do some tests on Jim's senses. They've never been the same as they were before--I'd like to chart some of the differences
'Wiggy' was how Jim generally referred to them now. He'd never quite gotten control back over his hearing; the dials that had worked so well before didn't work for shit now. Touch and taste were the only two not badly affected; the other three had been pushed so far out of whack by the drugs that Blair was surprised some days that they worked at all. I wonder how much of that is hallucinogen-related, and how much is trauma-induced. His own little sentinel version of PTSD.
He had the soup pretty well thrown together, minus the bacon, when the door opened. He turned, remembering days not long past when he'd have jumped at the sound, and wasn't surprised to see Jim's face looking as tired as his. Some of that lifted when his partner caught sight of him, and a welcoming smile spread across the drawn features.
"You're a sight for sore eyes, Chief," was the greeting tossed his way as Jim paused by the table to unload the mail, paper, and his jacket before turning to face him.
"Ditto for you, babe." Blair grinned as he ducked to pull a frying pan out. "Hungry?"
"Starved," the bigger man sighed, walking into the kitchen. He pulled Blair tight against him, fingers moving restlessly through dark curls before stilling to cup and tilt Blair's face upward. He winked. "I could eat, too."
"You're such an ass," Blair smacked the solid chest in front of him, then pressed closer. "I missed you today."
"I missed you, too." Instead of the kiss Blair thought he was going to get, Jim just gathered him closer, holding him tightly.
"Jim?" He didn't mind the embrace; far from it, actually. But generally, his partner greeted him with a just a quick hug and a kiss, and sometimes a teasing grope before they settled into whatever they were doing for the evening. This was nice--he liked full-body hugs with Jim. His lover was tense, though. More tense than the usual end-of-the-day--even for a shitty day. "Jim, you okay, babe?"
Ellison hugged him closer. "Yeah, Chief." There was a long pause. "I just--missed you today."
There was a lot not being said in that. "What happened?"
Jim sighed and loosened his grip on Blair, moving back a couple of paces. Sandburg cast him a worried glance, then turned to the refrigerator. He had the bacon open and frying in the pan before Jim had worked up to whatever it was he had to say.
"We had a--there was a...cutting today. The victim--was male, and it looked... almost...ritualized...and I--" His face was pale, and Blair wondered how much color he'd actually had all day.
"When was this, Jim?" He kept his voice soft and even, letting his words form a soothing cadence.
"Early. Before--lunch."
Shit. "Why didn't you call me?" Blair turned back to the fridge and drew out two bottles of beer. Jim cast him a grateful look when he handed him one.
"So both of us could freak out?"
"Did you?"
"What, freak out?" Jim waited for Blair's nod of affirmation before answering. "Not--exactly. But I didn't handle it very gracefully, either."
Blair gripped the edge of the counter for a moment, remembering his reaction to a picture he'd seen while casually thumbing through a first-term anthro text two days ago. It hadn't been at all graceful. Louise probably thinks I'm a case for the nuthouse. He raised his eyes to Jim's. "Do you know how many pictures of ritual carvings and markings and such there are in some anthropology books? I can't spend my life hiding from them any more than you can from strange calls. But I wonder sometimes..." his voice trailed off for a moment as his thoughts bounced around, "if we're ever going to be able to look at something like that without memories slapping us in the face like they do."
Jim reached out for him again, and Blair went gratefully into the warm circle of his arms. He rested his head against the strong, solid body, and listened to the deep rumble of Jim's voice.
"I don't know, Chief. I hope so. I know it's going to take time; Emily hasn't missed a chance to remind me--us--of that." Jim paused, then his voice deepened. "But maybe we need to make some new memories."
There was something in the tone of Jim's voice and the hands that were slowly stroking his back that made him shiver inside. "What kind of new memories?" he asked quietly, rubbing his cheek against Jim's chest.
"Whatever kind you want, baby."
He had to smile at that--both the tone and the words. Jim didn't call him by the endearments often, even now. He was the one that used 'babe', and 'lover' and the like. Generally speaking, he was 'Chief', which was an endearment of its own, and that was just fine. But hearing 'baby' never failed to send small waves of tingles moving through him. Blair planted a series of gentle kisses across the flannel of Jim's shirt, breathing out purposefully. It must have been purposeful enough, because Jim shivered lightly.
"Whatever kind I want, hmm? How about what you want, babe?"
Jim shivered again and tilted his head back so they were looking at each other's eyes. Blair felt a rising tide of hunger moving through him at the depth of emotion and desire he saw in Jim's eyes. "Are you ready for that?" he murmured quietly, raising one hand to stroke Jim's cheek.
"I--think so," his lover replied shakily. "At least--I want to try."
More bursts of heat inside him, like little sunspots exploding randomly in the pit of his stomach. "That sounds--nice," he said, voice a little ragged. A deep breath and slow exhale gave him back a little of his control and banished most of the butterflies. "Want to eat, and relax a little bit, first? Maybe shower--?"
"That sounds good," Jim crooned in a tender voice. Strong, warm fingers moved over his face, almost like Jim was Braille-reading him. The fingers passed over his lips and he kissed them, smiling a little when he heard Jim's in-drawn breath. He opened his mouth and flicked his tongue out and over the tip of one finger and the breath turned to a low moan. The low moan turned to a soft whisper when Jim removed his fingers and replaced his mouth, the words warm against Blair's lips. "I love you, Chief."
Then there was no time for thought, no room for wondering, nothing left but Jim's mouth on his. Their world narrowed down to sensation and love and desire and need. Blair opened his mouth for Jim, a low groan rising around them when his lover sucked on his tongue before slipping his own all around the hot, moist interior of Blair's mouth.
Heat,
and light and colors all combined into a giant ball of feeling in the pit of
his belly and Blair jerked himself forward, tighter against Jim's body, his
tongue moving to stroke inside Jim's mouth.
His partner moaned quietly and pressed his mouth down harder, working to taste
every inch of Blair's mouth.
When they finally let go, breaking apart reluctantly, both were flushed and breathing hard. Blair ran a hand down Jim's chest, his eyes dark and hot when he cupped the older man's erection, thumb smoothing over the semi-hard cock. Pale blue eyes dilated until only the thinnest ring of color was visible around the pupil. A low, soft moan rolled out as Jim closed his eyes and leaned into the touch, rubbing himself slowly against Blair's hand. Blair swallowed a moan of his own at the touch and rubbed a little harder, enjoying the look of pleasure spreading over Jim's face. When his lover reached down to cup and rub him, his knees turned to rubber.
"Want you," he moaned in a whispery voice, shifting his hips forward against Jim's hand.
"You feel good, baby," came the ragged answer, a thin hiss through teeth as Jim obviously pushed for control. "You feel so good."
"Yes..." Blair shuddered once, then stilled his hand slowly, until he was just holding Jim. He shifted his head--when had he pressed it against Jim's chest?--and looked at his lover. "Let's do this right, lover. I want you--but not in the kitchen." He managed a strangled approximation of a laugh and sagged against the bigger man. "I want slow and easy in our bed."
Large warm hands released him, only to wrap around him and hold him close, one going to stroke through his hair. "Just like you said--dinner, relax, shower. Sorry, Chief--didn't mean to get carried away--"
"Hey, man, I groped you first." Blair managed to inject some humor into his words and sighed in relief when a chuckled rumbled up from Jim.
"Yeah, you did, didn't you." Another rumble of laughter, and Blair relaxed a little more. The atmosphere was charged and a little tense, but it was a different sort of tension this time: it was the tension of anticipation.
"Lemme finish the soup, and we can eat... Wanna shower together?" When Jim released him Blair turned and leered at his partner, sending a visible shiver through the other man.
"Think we'd actually get anything washed?" Now came the familiar grope, before Jim headed back into the living area.
"Depends." Blair raised an eyebrow.
"On?"
"On how bad you wanted to get clean, versus how bad you wanted to get down and dirty."
"Guess we better shower separately then. Down and dirty is at the top of my list right now." Jim leered at him and Blair felt his breath leave his body in a *whoosh*.
"Hold that thought, big guy," he said in a shaky voice. Jim grinned knowingly at him.
Jim started a fire, then set the table while Blair finished the soup and heated some French bread he found in the freezer. Although mid-spring it was still chilly out, and both men agreed this was a perfect night for dancing flames and woodsmoke scents.
It didn't take long to eat dinner, though they tried not to hurry. In some respects, Blair considered, watching Jim eat a second bowl of soup, they were dragging their feet. Both of them wanted this; both of them needed this. And both of them were scared of it for the same reasons.
In the eight months since they'd been kidnapped, sex had been limited to kissing and rubbing, and more recently hand jobs and the occasional blowjob. Blair felt his whole body warm with the memory of two nights ago, when Jim had sucked him dry, rendering him unable to remember even his name for a few minutes.
We're ready for this; I think. But even being ready for it didn't mean it wasn't a little scary. There were so many factors involved, so much to consider. Or was there? Maybe it was time to just let everything go for a while, and pretend it was just the two of them. Just Jim and Blair, with no past history, nothing that had come between them before. They couldn't, obviously, totally ignore what had happened, or the fact that they'd had sex. But maybe they could use this as the jumping off point for the new beginning of their relationship. Or was that too close to denial? What was Jim thinking? He looked so calm, sitting there eating his soup.
"Are
you scared?" he blurted, eyes widening when he realized he was voicing his
thoughts out loud.
Jim met his gaze for a moment, then lowered his eyes to his lap, fidgeting.
"Yeah," he said finally. "I still worry about--y'know. I don't
want to hurt you."
Blair took a deep breath, willing his heart to calm down. "I don't think you will," he said softly.
"Blair, we both know it was painful for you before--and I did take my time, as much as I was able, that first time."
"We also know we didn't have anything resembling lubrication, other than spit and a little oil that was more for humiliation than anything, and we were tense as shit."
"What, and we're not, now?" Jim smiled, then shook his head. "I don't know about you, partner, but if I get any more tense, you'll be able to shatter me into pieces with one blow."
"Then maybe we should stop talking and start doing." Blair's eyes were almost defiant, blazing heat. He shrugged at Jim's raised eyebrow. "I want you, man. I want you to hold me and make love to me. I want us to fuck like we're rutting. I want to savor you and devour you..." He broke off, face a little red. "All of it," he continued in a whisper, feeling the tremors of heat moving through him. "All of it, all the time, any time we want. No more being afraid, no more being tense. Just us, able to do what we want."
"I want that too," Jim began, his own voice huskier than usual. "God, do I want that."
"Then let's do it, Jim. No more talking or wasting time. Let's take a shower, get relaxed, and let it happen. I'm tired of waiting."
Funny, Blair mused, laying back on the bed. I used to picture it like this, kind of. Just without all the other stuff that came before now. Of course, if he were honest, he'd also never really pictured getting to this point. He just hadn't been able to see he and Jim together--no matter how bad he'd wanted it. I guess if I'm counting blessings, I have to count what happened, in a way, because it let Jim and I see that we wanted the same thing--each other. Man, what a thought! He shifted a little uneasily, not certain it felt right to look at any of it as good--but unable to deny it, either. A soft sound on the steps caught his attention and he turned his head, his breath catching in his throat.
Jim stood there, totally nude, body rippling and shimmering in the glow from downstairs. It was intensified by the candles on the dresser that Blair had lit again, hoping to ease the atmosphere a little. It was a strong, beautiful, powerful body, and it made his heart ache to see it. It made other parts of him ache as well, when he looked at the thick, half-formed erection. He raised his eyes slowly to meet Jim's, and gave him a hot, loving smile, purposefully licking his lips slowly.
It had the desire effect; Jim gave a small gasp then moved off the landing over to their bed. "You're...incredible," he said roughly, staring down at the smaller man. Blair shivered at the heat reflecting out at him, imagining it loosed on him. He sat up slowly, crossing his legs under him, warmth moving through him more intensely when Jim watched the movement of his cock, swaying and bobbing. The mattress dipped when Jim settled next to him, laying on his side, propped on an elbow.
Blair drew a gentle hand down the side of the muscular body. "You're not too shabby yourself, lover," he said thickly, watching the way gooseflesh rose where his hand had touched. "I could touch you forever and never get tired of it."
"I'd let you." There was a tremble in Jim's voice, and Blair stroked his hand up to rub a finger over soft, narrow lips.
"Feels good," Blair said softly. "Doesn't it. To be able to touch...to fill the most basic need all human have."
Jim kissed the tip of his finger, then opened his mouth, his tongue wrapping gently around the digit. "Mmmm." He suckled for a moment, releasing Blair slowly. "Yeah, feels good," he echoed, voice tight and hot. His eyes matched his voice, and Blair grew dizzy looking into them, at the promise held there.
He stroked his hand down again, smoothing slowly down the length of Jim's neck, rubbing his thumb lazily over the pounding pulse in the hollow before leaning forward to press a moist kiss there. He let his mouth wander lower, shifting as he needed so he could keep from losing contact with the bigger man. A low cry and a startled jerk rose from Jim when Blair licked slowly around the nipple closest to him, running his tongue languidly over the small bud. He drew back to blow a stream of air across it, smiling when it tightened for him. "Like that?"
Jim's answer was a low gasp. "Oh, yeah. C'mere, baby." He reached for the smaller man, smiling when Blair shifted and cuddled close to him, their bodies rubbing against each other.
Blair steadied himself against Jim, holding on to a hard biceps, his fingers still stroking and kneading. He caught the tremor moving through Jim's body and frowned, then leaned close and licked Jim's ear before whispering, "You okay, lover?"
"Just--scared, a little," was the breathless reply. "You feel so good, Chief...I could lose myself in you forever. I want to. Bury myself deep, never come out again."
Blair pushed Jim over on to his back and straddled the broad chest, reaching down to rub and stroke the tight pectorals, easing his fingers slowly toward taut nipples. "Listen to me, Jim." He waited until Jim made eye contact with him. "I trust you, man. Totally, implicitly. We both know why you--hurt me--before. It's okay, now, though. There are no drugs. No one who wants you to make me scream. No one who wants you to hurt me. Any screaming I do is going to be from pure pleasure, when you join us together. And I want that, Jim." He reached one hand out to snag one of Jim's, settling it over his erection, stroking himself with Jim's hand. "This is how much I want that, baby. I won't lie and say I'm not scared, too, because we both know I am. But I want you...I want us to be one again." His fingers danced lightly over Jim's nipples, and he shivered when the bigger man groaned. "Only if you want to, Jim. No one's going to be forced here. We do it because we both want to."
Jim struggled to push himself up against the pillows, then slid Blair back until the younger man's ass was resting against the tip of Jim's cock. "I want it," he whispered hoarsely. His body surged against Blair's, pulling a heart-felt groan from both men. "That's how much," he whispered again. "I could come right now, just this close to you."
"Save it, big guy. I want it inside me." Blair leaned forward to capture Jim's mouth with his, his tongue probing a little more roughly at soft lips, demanding entrance that Jim willingly opened to give.
They began to move more deliberately against each other, hips shifting and bucking in an obvious rhythm. Blair wiggled his ass on every down stroke, feeling Jim's groans and grunts move through him through their kiss. The large hand still stroking his cock tightened, moving a little faster. He was leaking now, and Jim would rub a thumb over the top every so often, spreading the warm liquid to smooth his way. Jim's cock was leaving damp trails over his ass where it rubbed, and Blair shivered, imagining that heat and wet deep inside him, filling him full. He groaned into Jim's mouth, picturing it, remembering it. Time had blunted the memories of pain; he remembered the pleasure as well, and wanted that. Needed that.
"Please," he moaned quietly, his breath filling Jim's mouth, the word echoing around them. "Please, Jim. Fuck me...love me...be inside me. I'm aching for you, baby."
The large body under him tensed, but didn't pull away. After a measured span of heartbeats, Jim relaxed, then let go of Blair's cock. "Yes," he hissed quietly. "Turn around, Chief."
"Wha--?" He blinked, not sure he was understanding Jim's instruction.
"Turn around, baby. Bring your ass around...give me access. I'm gonna taste you, Blair. Get you wet...open you."
Ohmygod. A current of electricity sizzled through him, and for a moment Blair couldn't move. Physically wasn't capable. He shuddered, then shifted slowly, carefully, until he was facing Jim's feet, his ass toward his lover. He shuddered again when large, warm hands came up to cup his cheeks, the thumbs smoothing lovingly over his flesh. A low soft groan reached his ears when those hands parted him, and he turned his head back, a question on his lips. "Jim?"
"You're so beautiful, Blair. Open, trusting. Wanting me." A warm, wet trail snaked down one cheek toward the crevice between, flirting with the shadowy edge. Blair groaned and shuddered, his fingers digging into the blankets. Warm breath touched him, and then warmer wet, sliding down the cleft of his ass to stroke over and around the small bud that opened into his body.
"Jim--" Oh, man, you're killing me here, babe. Ohhhgod...that's my...and your... He had a brief, vague memory of the first, last and only time Jim had rimmed him; the night he'd given him pleasure like he'd never know, with the most thorough blowjob he'd ever experienced. Jim's tongue was sweeping over him now, lapping at him. He groaned and arched back hungrily against the mouth that was trying to devour him. "Yesss, oh, baby...oh, God..."
"That's it, baby, open for me." Jim moved his mouth lower, sucking and licking at the soft skin of the perineum, then mouthing each ball that was hanging so temptingly before him. Blair jerked and gave a soft shriek when Jim took the first hot, swollen oval into his mouth, sucking intently, his tongue running over the soft wrinkled skin. He moved to the other and repeated his actions, hands shifting to Blair's thighs to hold him steady as the younger man writhed and wiggled against him.
Their groans and whimpers mixed together as Jim sucked and licked and tasted, and Blair reacted to the stimuli. He stretched himself out enough to run his tongue over the head of Jim's cock, his stomach clenching with need when a low, hungry growl rose around them. He answered with his own when Jim moved back up to his opening and placed a hot, probing kiss directly over it, his tongue snaking into the tight passage.
"Yes! God, Jim..." The words were gasped, then lost in moans when Jim's tongue started moving in and out slowly, pausing between thrusts to slide out and lick and lap at the soft ridges of skin that made up the puckered opening.
"Oh, yeah, baby." Jim's voice was thick and hot. He pushed his hips upward, toward Blair's mouth, at the same time he pushed his tongue deeply into the smaller man. Quiet, breathy moans and whispers filled the air around them; wet, lush sounds of flesh meeting flesh. "You're so good," Jim whispered harshly, dragging his mouth away from the heated velvet that was the inside of Blair's body. He dropped hot kisses all over the upturned cheeks, spreading his fingers over one and kneading while reaching toward the nightstand, and the small bottle of baby oil Blair had set there earlier. "Taste...smell...its like rich musk, Blair. I could drown in it."
Jim was panting, Blair noted. They both were. Fiercely aroused, deeply in love, horribly scared, but determined to be together, to do this. He gasped, then stiffened, when a slick finger rubbed over his pucker then slid inside slowly, Jim's other hand caressing him gently while his lover made quiet, soothing noises and whispers. It's just a finger. It's just Jim's finger. He's loving you...touching you and loving you, giving you pleasure. Don't be an idiot, Sandburg, you're okay...
"Blair? You okay, baby?" Jim's anxious voice cut through the thoughts swirling in his head, and Blair realized he was still holding himself stiffly. He blew out a long, deep breath and relaxed, leaning back into the warmth of the man touching him.
"Fine...just...talk to me...no, face me. Let me move, Jim...I need to see your face.."
Jim shifted himself and helped Blair turn, taking care to stroke the younger man gently, touching him everywhere in an arousing, soothing manner. "Sorry, Chief...I didn't even think..."
"Shhh." Blair leaned down and kissed Jim, rubbing himself over the bigger man. "S'okay, man. Just for a minute--love me, Jim. Give me those new memories."
"Ahh, Chief." Large hands cupped his face and drew him down for a long kiss that left him even more breathless and aching, the world spinning dizzily around him. Then Jim was pressing the baby oil into his hand, their fingers stroking each other's. "Get me ready for you," was the husky command, light blue eyes dilated with hunger. Blair shifted backward, drizzling oil over Jim's still-outstretched hand, and into his own palm.
They gasped as one as Jim's fingers sought Blair's opening at the same Blair stroked his slick palm down the heated shaft standing at attention in front of him. Jim's flesh was so hot, so--alive--in his palm; he smoothed oil over it, rubbing with deliberate strokes, grinning when Jim arched his head and thrust into his touch, eyes closed to drown in the sensation. And there were those incredible fingers probing and pushing against him, entering him, teasing him, loving him. He moaned and moved back against them, shuddering when two entered his body and a hoarse, quiet voice said, "Ride, baby."
He eased up on stroking Jim's cock and settle more fully onto the hand that was supporting him, letting his weight push him down. The fingers felt good as he rocked slowly, but it wasn't enough. He shook his head and shifted forward, a single word hot on his lips. "You."
"Blair--"
"I need you, Jim. I want you. Please, lover--don't make me beg."
"No," Jim whispered on a hot, breathy sigh. "Never that. C'mere, Chief." Blair watched as his lover grasped his slick cock, then helped him shift over it. "You control it, baby. As fast or slow as you need it--stop if you need to--anything you need." The words had a tight edge of control running through them, offset by a thread of need.
"Yes," he agreed, voice low. He sat back, feeling Jim's cock nudge his opening, and blew out a slow breath to relax. They groaned as one when the thick, hard flesh breached him, pushing the muscles open for entry. For a moment Blair froze as the sharp sting of flesh unused to stretching moved through him, then he closed his eyes and rocked down, taking his lover further into his body, a low cry pulled from him. "Good--oh, Jim, so good..."
A sob answered him, and Blair opened his eyes to see Jim's eyes tightly closed, face pulled into an expression of pleasure/pain. Sweat beaded the narrow forehead, one drop sliding crazily down the side of Jim's head. "Blair--God..." Jim's hands moved, from holding himself steady for Blair to cupping rounded, muscular asscheeks, kneading them and holding them open and apart to intensify the sensations moving through both of them.
The hunger in Jim's voice touched a chord deep inside the younger man, and he took a deep breath then rocked all the way down, groaning when his body shifted, opening fully for the thick cock impaling him. He shuddered and shivered, the feelings intensifying when Jim cried out wordlessly, grasping his hips roughly. His own voice answered, hoarse with need, with a hunger he hadn't realized before. There had been love in what they'd done before, because the love between them was too strong to be denied. But that had been something else; this was making love. However rough and hard or soft and easy it might be between them, it was making love. Blair shifted himself carefully, groaning when his body throbbed around the one inside him, and pressed his open mouth to Jim's. They joined fully, tongues moving softly in time as their bodies started rocking together.
It was pain, and not pain; pleasure, and something never before experienced. A feeling so deep, so intense, mere flesh couldn't contain it. They lost themselves in each other while time and the world around them ceased to exist. Bodies moving slowly, awkwardly, then more in sync, more sensuously as they grew used to this, to the feelings generated within them. Hands stroked and pinched, nipples standing up hard and tight. Breathing was fast and rough, quickening further with each downstroke, with each slow thrust upward.
Blair was hot and tight, the oil slicking them both almost unbearably sensual. Jim groaned and thrust upward gently as his body tried to communicate its need for more. Blair moaned when the cock impaling him throbbed within him and rocked down harder, trying to answer that need. He jerked, startled, when a hot hand closed over his own cock, sending shockwaves through him from both ends.
"Come with me," Jim growled softly, his eyes open and hot. There was such love, such need reflected in there. Blair felt his body tighten around Jim, pulling him in deeper.
"Yes," he agreed hoarsely, soft whimpers escaping as the hand moved faster, meeting each thrust forward he gave. Unceasing, cyclical; push down, slide up, thrust forward; their bodies moving faster and harder now, as the hunger spun out of control. He could feel Jim's fingers digging into his hip, and panted as his body stiffened; not out of fear this time, but need for release. Blair closed his eyes and squeezed himself around Jim, shuddering with satisfaction at the hot, needy growl that rose from his lover. "Come inside--Jim, please...now...gonna--oh...God!"
"Yesss--Oh!" Jim thrust up hard, shaking them both. Their bodies clenched around each other, releasing hot spurts of fluid both within and without. Blair cried out as Jim's seed flooded him, sending heat to all recesses of his body; Jim cried out when Blair's juices covered his belly and chest, anointing them. Blair's first orgasm as they made love, fully joined. The younger man threw his head back, slamming himself down onto Jim, squeezing him with all he had.
"Feels--good--" he panted roughly, eyes still shut tight. Jim's answer was unintelligible, lost amongst the moans and cries. They held that frozen position for a long, long moment as Jim emptied himself fully into Blair, and Blair's release spattered across them.
Blair slid forward, falling against Jim's chest, body going lax with satisfaction and satiation. Jim cradled his lover close, stroking gentle fingers through curls now damp with sweat. Their bodies continued to twitch and shiver against each other as tiny aftershocks of reaction moved through them. Blair sighed and cuddled closer, nuzzling into Jim's neck.
"I love you," Jim offered quietly, his voice hesitant.
"Love you too," Blair said softly. "Thank you."
"I should be thanking you," he replied, voice gruff. "You didn't have to--"
Fingers covered his lips. "Neither one of us had to," Blair responded slowly. "We both wanted--and needed--to do this. You gave of yourself, I gave of myself. Together, Jim. Not like before, when we didn't have a choice. Never regret our loving, babe. I'll tell you if it hurts, or if I don't want it. I hope you'll do the same." He shifted to look at Jim, eyes regarding the other man seriously. Jim nodded.
"How'd you get so smart?" he asked quietly, when Blair removed his fingers.
"Not so s--smart," Blair said around a yawn. "Just love you." He rolled off Jim, onto his side, tugging his lover with him. "Take a nap?" He asked, voice sleepy.
Jim nodded, stroking his fingers slowly up and down Blair's back. "Go to sleep, baby. I've got you."
"You--sleep too," Blair's voice was softer, full of yawns and sighs. "Gonna--need your--strength later..."
Jim's grin was the last thing he saw as his eyes slid shut.
There are few things. Jim mused, that the body feels as completely, as after making love. He stretched, his body shuddering with the movements, and smiled when the smaller body curled around his shifted fitfully, a tiny whimper of disapproval coming from somewhere beneath the mound of blankets covering it.
They'd napped for a while last night, then soft, wet kisses had woke him, hot and hard and hungry. He'd made love to Blair again, taking him, this time at his partner's insistence, with Blair on his back so they could kiss and caress. It had been so hot, so loving. And when the world spun crazily out of control for a moment, then crashed around him, he'd been okay. Mostly. Blair had clung to him, talking and whispering, easing him through it. They'd guided and supported each other, both recognizing the scars that were there, and the wounds yet healing.
And then Blair took him. Not fully accustomed to male sex, his lover had been a little clumsy, a little awkward. But it had felt so good to offer himself like that; not out of guilt or misguided feelings, but because he wanted to--because he loved Blair. It had been a while--a long while, he snorted now--since he'd bottomed for anyone, but even the lingering soreness now wasn't anything more than a mild discomfort. He was aware of it, but a warm shower would soothe any remaining aches away.
We still have a ways to go. We're not going to be miraculously 'okay', just because we made love last night. I know I'm probably always going to be a little skittish; I don't want to hurt him again, ever, not for anything. But God, it felt so good. "Thank you," he breathed quietly, the words barely spoken, more sighed.
The blankets heaved then, and Blair's head emerged, hair tousled and tangled from sex and sweat and sleep. "Man, can't a guy sleep in, any more?"
"Not on a beautiful day like this," Jim's voice was rich with love and laughter as he took in his lover. "You should see yourself, Sandburg." He snickered softly, then groaned, eyes widening when Blair pushed the blankets back and sat up fully. There was a red-purple bruise on his partner's shoulder. "When--?" He stroked a finger over it, eyes dark with sadness. Blair grabbed his hand and kissed the fingers.
"The second time," he said softly, sending his own fingers to touch Jim's neck. "And you have its mate right here." A slow, playful smile moved over his lips, stretching the wide, generous mouth, sending sparks skittering through Jim's body as he recalled what all that mouth could do. "Don't guilt, Jim. We marked each other, man. I wanted it--something I could look at in the mirror, feel stinging a little bit, and remember."
"Why?" His fingers hadn't ceased their restless motion.
Blair shrugged. "Just because. I don't have anything beyond that to offer, man. I just wanted you to mark me." His eyes narrowed as he pinned Jim with his dark gaze. "You don't remember?"
"I--sort of. Things--details--are a little hazy in some spots," he admitted slowly.
"Don't guilt, and don't blank stuff out, man." Blair's voice was insistent. "If something makes you uncomfortable, say so. You told me to tell you; I expect the same from you." He held Jim's eyes with his own, shaking his head. "We have a lot to work through, lover. Its never gonna get better if we hide stuff from each other, okay?"
"I'll--try," Jim said quietly, a catch in his voice. "I can't make promises, Sandburg, but I'll do my best."
"That's all I ask," Blair leaned toward Jim, letting his lips brush against the other's. It was a sweet, all-too-brief kiss. "I love you, man."
"I love you, Sandburg." Jim returned the kiss, pressing a little harder, then releasing his partner momentarily to stare into his eyes. Something sparked within him at the light he saw there, and he shuddered in response, drawing close again, pulling Blair slowly toward him. "I want you, baby. Over and over again, until we're so drained we can't move, can't think, can't do anything but lie here and hold each other."
Blair shivered visibly. "Sounds like a plan to me," his voice cracked on the last word and he grinned sheepishly, the heat in his eyes sending frissons of the same curling through Ellison's body.
"I hope so, Chief." Jim leaned close and nuzzled his lips over Blair's, taking time to explore the warm, generous mouth carefully. He licked lips that were still swollen from last night, drawing his tongue slowly across the bottom one, noting the changes and variations in texture and taste from one spot to the next. Blair moaned softly when he drew it into his mouth to suckle momentarily. When the younger man moaned again Jim released the captured lip and turned his attention to the other one, smiling when Blair's mouth opened for him, inviting him in. &quo