by Mickey M.

© March 1998

 

 

 

Prologue

 

It was always the same dream, although for a long time he'd been too young to remember much of it, much less understand it.  He was older now, and although the meaning was still unclear, he at least recognized the dream itself.

 

He didn't have it often.  Mostly during stressful periods in his life, maybe when he was yearning for someone to really care for him or care about him; perhaps for someone to *take* care of him.  This was one of those periods, he supposed, since everything was new, different, a little scary.

 

In the dream--his dream--there were always four players.  Two panthers, a jaguar and a hawk.  The hawk was injured, although the dream never showed how that had happened, simply that it was.  He sensed instinctively that he was the hawk.  There was something about that that uplifted him, seemed to fit him.  He didn't know who the panthers or the jaguar were, but felt on some instinctual level that one day that would be revealed to him.

 

The hawk was on the ground, resting, healing.  It looked up when a jaguar entered the clearing it was resting in, disturbed by the noise and the scent.  The large cat moved around, looking at the hawk, flicking its tail as if displeased.  It paced, eventually cornering the much smaller, defenseless bird.  The hawk had prepared to give up and not fight; death would come regardless and this way would be less painful.  A loud scream echoed through the clearing and another large cat, bigger even than the jaguar and far darker and sleeker, entered.  A panther.  He leapt upon the back of the jaguar, biting and clawing, driving the other cat back, leaving a bloodied carcass at the edge of the clearing.  When the jaguar was dead the panther paced around restlessly, as if waiting for someone, or something.  It looked up, then loped away with a self-satisfied flash of tail when another, much larger, panther entered the clearing.

 

The hawk looked up at this new intruder, sensing gentleness behind the fierceness he saw on the surface, and was surprised when the cat looked back at him with gentle, sky-colored eyes.

 

*******************************

 

Peruvian Jungles, March 1988

 

The sun was coming up over the mountains, casting a pinkish-golden hue on the lush foliage.  Inside the helicopter were eight men--men who'd fought in life and death situations together. They were quiet now; the kind of quiet that descended on them before all intense missions.

 

No one knew better than Captain James Ellison how intense this mission was going to be; he'd briefed his men, but the burden of all knowledge was his alone.  They were to be cut off from radio contact for the duration of their mission, which was at this point an unknown.  When he'd dared to question his superiors about this--how could you have an unknown factor like the length of a mission and not have radio contact?--he was coldly informed that *they* would break radio silence when it was deemed necessary, and not before.

 

He shifted his position and all eyes were on him instantly.  Ellison permitted himself a small smile--these were good men.  Not for the first time he thanked whomever had smiled upon him in allowing him to pick his own team.  Not all Ops commanders got so lucky.  He opened his mouth to address them, and the world shifted as the helicopter inexplicably dipped toward the ground, rotors ceasing their motion.

 

The local natives told him later that at first they had feared that the Sun Gods had become angry.  They'd heard a loud noise, ten times louder than a clap of thunder, then seen the flames moving outward…

 

****************************

 

Ellison rolled over with a groan, the sounds around him muted from the roar of the explosion still ringing in his ears.  He shook his head.  Explosion?  What was he thinking?  No, wait... He froze.  Oh, god...his team!

 

Ignoring his screaming muscles and the flare of pain from burnt skin, Ellison pushed himself to his feet with a grunt and began stumbling through the brush and jungle undergrowth, looking for survivors.

 

An untold number of hours later he was finished.  His own body, injured and fatigued, began to give out, and he sat down heavily, feeling the guilt of those who survive fatal disasters beginning to gnaw at him.  He'd found all seven of his men--three of whom he'd only been able to identify through dog-tags, and only two who were still alive.  Lieutenant Benjamin Pearson and Sergeant First Class Elson "Smitty" Smith were both alive, but critically injured.  Smitty was unconscious and remained that way in spite of all of Jim's attempts to revive him.

 

Smitty wouldn't last out the night.  Jim buried his face in his hands and groaned silently.  He'd lost men before, but never like this; never totally helpless to do anything.  In the past, he'd been *doing* something; even if it was ineffectual in the end, he'd be acting to preserve those lives.  He had no control over this.  He looked at Smitty with tears glittering unshed in his eyes.  He'd known this man for years.  He'd been close to the family, had eaten dinner at his house, spent holidays there.  They had, in spite of the disparity in their ranks, been good friends.  It hurt to see him like this, and Jim had to reach deep within himself and draw heavily on his reservoir of inner strength to look at him laying there.

 

//An officer doesn't get emotionally involved, especially in Covert Ops.  He can't afford to.//  He could hear the voice repeating the words over and over again.  It wasn't official doctrine, but damn close.  Smitty had been one of his drill instructors, and he'd heard those words almost daily when he went through the extended training.  When he graduated and got his commission, Jim returned to the drill camp and 'stole' the sergeant away, putting him in charge of maintaining his team's efficiency.  He hadn't been let down.  But somewhere along the line, he'd become emotionally involved.  Smitty had ceased to be 'just a soldier', and had become a friend.

 

Jim stared down at Smitty, eyes hot and burning from the smoke of the fire and unshed tears.  He hoped the older man would gain consciousness so they could say goodbye, but the medic he'd trained to be knew the odds were slim.

 

Then there was Pearson.  Jim flicked his gaze over to the other man.  Pearson *might* make it, if he got proper medical care--meaning a hospital--immediately, but the odds decreased with each minute that passed.  Pearson.  Oh, god.  Another wave of guilt flooded over him.  The young lieutenant shouldn't have been on this mission; however, they'd had a vacancy at the last minute when one of his team members became ill and couldn't make the trip.  Benny Pearson had been chosen--over Jim's vehement requests otherwise--to do the mission.  Now he lay there, most likely dying...and Jim was going to have to live with another set of consequences from breaking the 'don't get emotionally involved rule' for the rest of his life.

 

"Cap..."  a breathless voice gasped, and Jim swiveled his head around to see Pearson watching him, a tender look in his eyes. "Not...your...fault...Jim."  The younger man nearly gasped the words, trying to speak around the pressure flooding his chest cavity.

 

"Pearson.  Benny.  Take it easy, okay?"  Jim shifted closer to his second-in-command, and felt his wrist for the pulse.  It was weak and thready, and Pearson's breathing was shallow and labored.  Jim had found him laying in a small, but growing, pool of blood, the end of a rib poking through skin.  He figured the other jagged end had pierced the lung, judging from the blood being coughed up, and the painful, labored breathing noises he heard when he leant in and listened.

 

"Wha...happened?"

 

Jim's jaw clenched involuntarily.  He'd like the answer to that question himself.  Since all the communications equipment had been destroyed in the crash and subsequent explosion, he had no way of finding out.  Never mind the order of silence...

 

"I dunno, Benny.  The chopper crashed.  Most of the team was thrown out...but the explosion still caught a lot of them.  You, Smitty and I are the only survivors...and..."  Jim stopped in horror as he realized what he'd almost said.

 

"Jim..."  The gasps were gurgly now, and Jim envisioned Benny Pearson drowning in his own blood, lungs collapsing under the ever-increasing pressure from oxygen flooding his chest cavity.  He shook his head to dispel the image.  A cold hand reached toward him; brushed his thigh, lingering for a moment, then moved on to grasp Jim's hand.  Jim clenched it in his own, trying to impart some of his warmth, his strength.

 

"Yeah, Benny?"

 

"...shoulda...told you..."  Benny coughed weakly, and panted, trying to draw air into his lungs.

 

"Told me what, Benny?"  Jim tightened his grip on the cold hand. He knew.  He *knew* what Benny was going to tell him, and he wasn't sure he could handle hearing it.

 

"...love...you."  The second word ended on a breathy sigh.  "...shoulda told...you...before... Stupid, huh?...was...afraid..."

 

Jim felt the tears gathering in his eyes again, and reached down with his free hand to gently stroke Benny's face.  "Not stupid, Ben."  His voice shook slightly, and he tried to find that emotional distance--detachment--he needed, and failed.

 

"...know you...don't...feel...that way...for...me,"  Benny's efforts to draw air were becoming almost desperate now, and Jim had to look away for a moment before resuming the conversation.

 

"I--"  He stopped.  He did love him, but could he say it?  He'd never said it before, and wasn't sure, even now, if he could.

 

Benny coughed once more, wincing from the pain.  "...thought you...should know...before..."

 

Jim's eyes burned.  "You listen to me, Pearson.  You're not gonna say 'I love you', then die on me!  Not on my watch, soldier."  He could hear the tightness in his voice, the barely controlled emotions.

 

Benny wheezed and coughed again, then shook his head slightly.  "C'mon...sir...We...both know..."  he paused, panting for air, skin beginning to take on a bluish hue. "Know...I'm dyin'..."

 

Jim couldn't answer, since he knew as well as Benny did.  Better, actually, thanks to his days as a medic when he first joined the service.  Blood bubbled out of the corner of the other man's mouth, and the bright red contrasted garishly with the muted green of the camos he wore.  Jim swore softly, then bent and pressed his mouth to Benny's, a final kiss of farewell.  He pulled back and saw Benny's lips moving, and leant forward, straining to hear.

 

"...Jim..."

 

Benny gave a gurgly little sigh and his body relaxed then, as the freedom of death released the hold pain had had on him.

 

Jim tightened his hold on Benny's hand almost convulsively, as if by sheer strength of will he could keep the younger man with him. A low, primal growl rang in his ears, and he realized it was coming from him.

 

He'd never said it.  Now he'd never get the chance.

 

*******************************

 

Rainier University, Cascade,  Washington, March 1988

 

"Whadaya mean, 'not listed'?  Man, I cleared all that with the Prof last month.  You can*not* be serious!"  The young man paced the cramped space of the office impatiently, hair swinging in time with his strides.

 

"Look, Blair."  The secretary leaned forward in sympathy.  "I'm sure you followed all the procedural steps.  But hon, something goofed.  You're not listed in the database."

 

"Ms. Standish...help me out, please?  I gotta go on that expedition.  Please?  Help me out here--find the info..."  He turned large blue eyes on her, and Dorothy Standish sighed.  Of all the kids to have been accidentally bumped from this project, Blair was the one who least deserved this trip through academic-paper hell.

 

"All right, Blair.  I'll see what I can do.  But!"  She held up on finger, forestalling any commentary on his part, "You have to give me a day or so, and promise to leave me alone if I can't fix it."

 

"I promise,"  he vowed solemnly as he leaned to give her a hug.  She smiled as she watched him leave the room, remembering the child who'd come in where the man was leaving.  Had it been two years already?  Blair Sandburg had done a lot of growing up in those two years.

 

Blair headed down the halls of the Anthropology Department of Rainier University.  If anyone could find out what had happened to his acceptance form for the trip to Peru, Dorothy Standish could.  He sighed, and smiled at the two girls who were moving past him.  They smiled back and slowed down, but Blair was in a hurry today--he was meeting with Professor Andano about the Peruvian study, and he didn't want to be late.

 

//I have to go on that trip.  I have to.//  He didn't even question why it seemed so important.  His mother had raised him to believe and trust in his 'gut' feelings...and his gut feeling was that his destiny was waiting for him in those tropical jungles. 

 

Three years here at the University.  Well...this would *be* his third year.  He'd been lying about his age for so long now that it seemed second nature any more; although he was 18 now he was still *small*--both in height, and stature.  A friend of his was encouraging him to work out with weights somewhat to offset that, and he'd seen a little in the way of results so far.  Blair knew he wasn't tiny--he was simply on the short end of average height for a man--but he was still small enough that people often mistook him for younger than he was. //Oh well...maybe someday I'll be glad to look younger than I am.'  He shook his head, pushing the long tresses back from his face.  That was the other thing, and he refused to cut his hair, laughing in the face of anyone who pushed it.  This was the longest it had been since starting college--it was past his shoulder blades now.  Maybe he'd trim it; it was on the verge of being *too* long. 

 

He stopped in front of Dr. Andano's office and pulled his glasses out.  Vanity took them off; necessity kept putting them back on.  He knocked on the door, and at the offered entrance squared his shoulders, and prepared to make a date with destiny.

 

*******************************

 

Chopec Pass, Peru, March 1988

 

Jim Ellison buried both of his subordinates--a lover, and a friend--several hours past sunset, when the moon was full up.

 

After Benny died he'd cried for what seemed like forever, although he knew that wasn't so, then slept for a while, his sleep marred by the knowledge that he'd lost one person very dear to him...and would soon lose another.

 

Benny he at least got to say goodbye to.  Smitty died without ever gaining consciousness.

 

Jim saved their dog-tags, placing them around his neck for safe-keeping.  He saw to their final resting places, then headed for what remained of the wreckage of the chopper in order to scavenge as many supplies as possible.

 

A sick sense of grief and guilt assailed him as he rummaged around in the wreckage.  What right did he have to survive?  A Commander was supposed to go down with the ship, or at least with his men.  He had no right to still be walking around on this earth.  Jim fell to his knees, choking with his guilt, and was still there, almost in supplication, when the heavens opened and rain poured forth.

 

****************************

 

He got sick almost immediately.  Wounded himself, then untended while he cared for his injured and buried the dead, his burns and cuts festered.  Added to that was the survivor guilt he was carrying around, and a healthy dose of elements, and his system couldn't fight any longer.

 

When he was conscious he could keep the dreams at bay; when he was out of his mind with fever, and delirious,  he saw ghosts that talked to him, and apparitions that made no sense.

 

A small, brown man appeared in some of those fever dreams, his face painted a brilliant red, a pleasant smile stretching his mouth.  Another small person--a woman? She was there on occasion, chanting strange words and pushing foul-smelling liquids down his throat.  Images blurred and raced through his brain: Benny dying in his arms, the ghost coming back to kill him in his sleep.  His father shooting down his youthful attempts to please the older man, forever telling him he wouldn't be good enough.  A large black cat--a panther?--stalking through the darkness, watching him with strangely blue eyes.  Another blue-eyed vision…a young man who smiled at him, laughed with him, loved him.  Someone he knew? Had known? Would know? He tried to picture, when he was coherent, that face in his mind, but it blurred and jumped out of reach.

 

He could hear faint explosions echo through his body; strange sounds, like gurgling, churning, flowing.  Water? Blood? Something that was both, and neither?  The dreams melded into one another, until he could no longer reason nor distinguish between them, reality versus delirium.  His eyelids were translucent now, light seeping through regardless…or was that just the burning heat from his fever?  His skin burned with touch, but wasn't burnt. Or was it? He couldn't remember now.  Explosions again…there'd been one.  What was it? Why'd it happen?  Why wasn't he dead? Or was he? Dead?! DEADEADEADEADEADEADEADEAD……

 

"Nooooooooo!"

 

The scream frightened several flocks of birds, nesting in the various limbs of the nearby trees, out of roost and into the sky.

 

He woke a day later, clear-headed, bright-eyed, to see a small, brown man crouched over him, his face painted red.  The man smiled at him, pointed to himself and said "Incacha."

 

*****************************

 

He set up his base of operations a mile or so to the north of the crash site.  He'd have been more comfortable being nearer to the site, in case of a rescue attempt; however, there were too many ghosts there.  He'd never have an easy night's rest with Benny laying dead near there, no matter he'd said it wasn't Jim's fault.

 

It was long, hard work, but it was the kind he'd been trained to do.  He cleared a perimeter of trees, then used those to build a crude hut for himself; mostly for shelter from the rain.  When the weather was clear he would often sleep outside under the stars; he felt less closed in that way.

 

The wreckage hadn't yielded much of use; a few emergency supplies, some blankets and such--mostly whatever was in the bags that had been thrown far enough from the chopper to not be affected by the explosion.  It felt gruesome and a little surreal to be going through the personal effects of his men, scant though they were, but survival often necessitated strange things.  And this was definitely a survival situation.

 

For the most part, the natives were reserved.  Most distrusted him simply because he was an outsider with skin that was much lighter than theirs.  It took time for them to trust him enough to feel comfortable with his being near their village.  He never went to the village--that would have made them too nervous.  But at least he could be near it now, without undue unrest.

 

With time he was able to get the warriors trained and active in the counter-insurgence mission he was supposed to be filling.  His guide and friend through the muck that consisted of negotiating with the warriors was Incacha, the man who'd saved him.  The shaman of the Chopec tribe.

 

As the months passed though, and he had not much contact with other human beings, he began noticing strange things about himself:  He could hear things so much more clearly.  And his eyesight!  Why, he figured he could see for a mile...and tried to test it; however, with nothing as a baseline, the test was fairly useless.  His sense of smell seemed heightened somehow, too, although that only bothered him if he were near a particularly strong-smelling item.  The other changes were more useful in warning him about nearby predators and /or people that

shouldn't be here.

 

Although mildly alarming the changes weren't unduly stressful; they allowed him to do his job better, and the job was what he lived for now.

 

He continued his mission:  train the locals as best as able to help in surveillance and perimeter guard.  They wouldn't keep out everyone, but the natives were fairly savvy individuals for all that they were quite primitive.  Jim found himself adopting some of their weapons and habits, and in time he became nearly indistinguishable from other parts of the jungle, including the predators.

 

***************************

 

He came awake gasping, body arching against the hand that was stroking himself, Benny's name on his lips.  When the spasms of orgasm had died away, Jim rolled over on his mat of grasses and buried his face in the blanket, a few tears sliding from his eyes before he managed to squelch them. During the day he could bury his feelings:  the hurt, grief, guilt over Benny's death--over all their deaths.  But at night those feelings would come back to him tenfold, wrapping him into a tight, unwanted embrace.

 

Ellison rose and pulled his boots on.  He slept fully clothed but for his boots, always.  He could run barefoot if necessary, but in the jungle to be totally naked was to be vulnerable.  And he couldn't afford to be vulnerable.  Although it was still dark out he was going to walk a perimeter.  He didn't need light to see anyway; any more he saw just as well in the dark.

 

He missed company.  Although he'd never been a truly gregarious person by nature it would have been nice to have someone else to talk to...share thoughts with...make love with.  He'd caught a couple of the local girls eyeing him once or twice, but had never approached them.  It was absolutely against protocol, to get involved with the locals; aside from that he was still too torn over his emotional involvement with Benny.  There was too much guilt unresolved, and there was no way in hell he was going to get involved with anyone else that had anything to do with this mission, however remotely.

 

It'd been, as near as he could figure, about six months since the chopper crashed.  That would put the date somewhere around September 1988.  What was going on in the world?  He wondered when he would be contacted.  How long could one person continue to hold perimeter territory by himself?  Yeah, he had the natives, but it wasn't the same.  They were brash, brave men, but he kept the dirty work to himself.  Like the guy last week who'd actually had contraband on him.  When he'd resisted, Jim had taken particular delight in snapping the guy's neck like a twig.  He could still feel the *snap* the bones had made as he'd twisted; could still feel the strange thrill that had coursed through him at the sound.

 

Oh, shit.  What was happening here?  Was he turning into some sort of savage beast?  Jim found himself entertaining thoughts along the lines of 'if I ever get out of here I think I'm finished with the Army...'.

 

******************************

 

Rainier University, Cascade, Sept. 1988

 

Blair pushed his way through the jostling crowds of students.  It was the first week of classes, and things were always out of control for that first week. //I don't care...I don't care...I'm a senior...// Not only was he a senior and in the last year of his undergrad studies, *Thank you very much!*, but everything was all set for the Peru trip next May.  He had only to get his passport updated, and the necessary shots beforehand...and he was free and clear.

 

His brain itched sometimes when he tried to analyze why this trip to a place he'd never been before was *so* important to him.  Naomi had teased him about it when she'd been by to visit over the summer.  But underneath the teasing he knew she was concerned for him:  her Blair was obsessive by nature, and compulsive, but this was obsessive even for him.  He'd gotten defensive the one time she brought it up, and it was never mentioned again.

 

Blair shrugged to himself.  He found a bench in a nice clear grassy area and settled in to do some studying, and reviewing of some text and articles he'd come across in the library.  He opened his backpack and drew out a battered and worn book, and opened it reverently.  Inside the book were notes and a dissertation on something titled 'Sentinel abilities', or heightened sensory awareness.

 

He came up for air several hours later, amazed to find he'd read the entire journal.  There were notes he'd made to himself stuck in pages throughout the book--this appeared to be a topic he wanted to pursue further, if possible.  Blair started his own journal, wishing not for the first time, that portable computers existed.  He labeled it 'Sentinel Studies', and felt his brain itch again.

 

Another hour of scribbling notes, and he glanced at his watch.  Almost four now.  He was supposed to meet with Julie and David in two hours to go over the notes from lecture yesterday.  Blair stretched and slid off the bench onto the grass, stretching his body out.  The warm sun above him, and warm grass under him felt good.  He closed his eyes, preparing to take a short nap.  A shadow fell over him, cutting off the source of pleasant warmth. Blair opened his eyes to see Curtis standing over him.  He smiled, a slow welcoming smile.

 

"Hey, man.  Sit down."  He patted the grass next to him and the lanky man dropped down.

 

"Hey, Blair.  Kinda early in the day to be sleeping, isn't it?"  Curtis stretched out on his side next to Blair and smiled at his friend.

 

"Wasn't sleepin', man.  Just like, you know, dozing."

 

"Dozing, sleeping, whatever.  Still early."  Curtis rolled onto his stomach and fixed his gaze on some point in the distance.  "Wanna come over this evening?"  he asked softly.

 

"Curtis..."

 

"Just to watch TV or something, Blair.  Talk.  We don't have to do anything else."

 

"But you want to, don't you?"

 

Curtis sighed.  "I don't get you, Blair.  You act like you want to have sex with me...but then you pull away.  What's up with you?"  Blair was silent for so long that Curtis turned his head to look at him.  "Well?"

 

"I don't know,"  Blair said finally.  "I *want* to...but something's holding me back.  It's not that I'm afraid or anything...I like everything else we've done...but something about taking that final step..."

 

"'Cause that way you can tell yourself up to that point you're not gay...this is just two guys having fun, right?  Man, I thought you were better than that."  There was a bitter quality to Curtis' voice, and Blair rolled on his side to face him.

 

"No, man, that's not it.  I don't subscribe to labels.  You should know that by now.  I'm not het, gay or bi.  I'm just *me*.  Whatever that means.  If it means I want to date men and women, that's what it is then.  And ditto for sleeping with them."

 

"Blair."  Curtis rolled to face him.  "Have you ever had sex with a guy before?  Actually gone all the way?"   Blair blushed slightly, and shook his head no.  Curtis sighed.  "How about with a woman?"

 

"A couple of times."

 

Another sigh.  "Man, I forget how young you are.  19?  20?  Which is it, Sandburg?"

 

Blair's turn to sigh.  "Eighteen."

 

Curtis flopped on his back.  "Jesus, I'm robbing the fucking cradle.  Blair, you've either got to age about six years overnight, or stop acting so *old*.  You're sending out mixed signals."  He sighed and smiled then as he sat up.  "Come on over tonight--we'll watch TV, eat some junk food and sit and cuddle.  And talk about the rest of this in a more private setting, okay?"

 

"Sure, Curtis.  About eight?  I'm meeting a couple of people at six for study group."

 

"Eight's fine, Blair.  See ya then."

 

"Later, man."  Blair flopped back on the grass, pondering the questions raised here.

 

******************************

 

It was far easier, he decided later, to ponder those questions sitting by yourself in the grass, than while wrapped in the warm arms of a lover.  All thoughts about that flew out of his head then as Curtis swirled his tongue around the inside of Blair's ear, then sucked on the earlobe.  He groaned and gave over to the sensations.

 

He gave himself over completely to those sensations then, and allowed Curtis to make love completely to him.  It was just as nice as Curtis had told him it would be, but he couldn't help feeling that it should be better, like there was something missing...

 

********************************

 

Chopec Pass, Peru, March 1989

 

Jim stood at attention over the markers for his men's graves.  Today marked a year--as best he could measure, without a calendar--that they were dead.  He listened to the music in his head, Taps played on a lone bugle.  His men deserved more than a lone soldier standing over them, hearing imaginary music.  It was becoming more clear however, that they were unlikely to receive more than that.

 

A year.  In all likelihood the crash had been spotted, and assumed no survivors.  He'd been given up for dead.  They all had.  He shook his head impatiently. That wasn't how the Army acted; he had to assume that when they deemed his mission completed they'd come for him. He had to hold on to that hope.

 

It wasn't quite as painful any longer, to remember his men, or Benny and Smitty.  There was still guilt of course--just for the fact that he was alive--but the pain of surviving alone had dwindled somewhat.  He missed Benny, but knew now that although he'd loved Benny, he hadn't  been *in* love with Benny.  Of course, that thought always brought a fresh wave of guilt along with it, as though he were desecrating something when he thought like that.  It was true though--he'd cared deeply for his lover, but it wasn't an all-abiding love.  He wondered if there was such a thing, and his mind flashed briefly on the fever-dream he'd had of a blue-eyed young man loving him.

 

He could see some of the natives in the hillside around him, watching him.  Probably wondering what he was doing.  These people, although they retained reverence for their dead, had nothing to do with them once they were so.  Dead was dead, there was no visiting graves and crying over bodies and spirits gone.  They probably thought he was insane.  There were times lately when he'd wondered the same.

 

Mourning complete Jim shouldered his rifle and blow darts, and set off for his patrol.  Eventually he'd be discovered; whether on purpose or by accident remained to be seen.  When that happened though, he wanted to be able to reassure his CO that he'd acted in the fullest capacity possible to retain the integrity of his original mission.

 

*******************************

 

Cascade, Washington, April 1989

 

"Come on, Blair…you know you don't want to do this."

 

Sandburg sighed and shook his head.  "No, man.  YOU don’t want me to do this.  I've been planning this trip for a long time."  The young man watched his companion, wondering when Curtis had gotten so possessive.  It wasn't like they'd sworn a commitment to each other.  Sure, they'd dated exclusively for nearly eight months now…and the sex had been good…but if Curtis thought he was giving up his dream of going to Peru, well, he needed to rethink things a bit.

 

"What's the draw down there, anyway?"  The older man countered.

 

"I don't know, Curt." Blair shrugged.  "I've just known for a long time that I needed to go to Peru.  Now I'm going.  In a little over a month.  And I need you to be cool about the whole thing."  The student got off the bed and began gathering his clothing, graceful and at ease with his nudity.

 

"How long are you going for?"

 

"Ten weeks.  Not a long time, man.  I'll be back before the summer is over.  Then we can talk about the other stuff."

 

The 'other stuff' was Blair moving in with Curtis; something the older student had been pushing for several weeks now, and that Blair was balking at.

 

"I really don't like the idea of you going," Curtis said finally, watching his younger lover.

 

"And I really don't care," Blair sent back.  "I like you, Curt.  I like what we've been doing.  It's been fun…a lot of fun.  But man, you *don’t* own me…and if you can't get past that, we have nothing more to say to each other!"

 

Curtis' eyes narrowed.  "I wish you didn't feel that way."

 

"Yeah, and I wish you'd stop acting like I'm some damn puppy dog to have and show off.  I'm not a possession, Curt.  I'm a human being…and I thought I was your friend."

 

"We're more than friends, though, aren't we?"

 

Blair sighed.  "What do you want from me?" he asked, as gently as he could manage.

 

"I want you."

 

"I'm here."

 

"No, I mean I want *you*."

 

"Curt…I'm not in love with you, man.  I like you…I love you as a friend…but I'm not going to fall in love with you.  You and I are too different for anything to work between us."

 

"Oh and you're so experienced to know this."  The older man sneered at him, and Blair felt something inside him snap.

 

"No, I'm not necessarily the most experienced guy here, but I know what and how I feel…and baby, you're not it."  Sandburg pulled his shirt on and shoved his feet into battered sneakers.  "Don't bother calling me, man.  I'll be gone in a few weeks and out of the country for the summer."

 

Curtis sat up, the sheet falling off his nude body.  "Blair--don’t do this.  Don't leave angry like this."

 

The younger man shoved his hand back through long, tangled curls.  //Gotta get a haircut pretty soon.//  "I wasn't going to, man.  You're the one who turned snotty on me.  Let's just leave it alone and maybe we can still be friends."

 

"Friends."

 

"Yeah--y'know, friends? Like we used to be, before we went to bed?"

 

Curtis nodded unhappily.  "Sure. Friends."

 

Blair watched him closely for a minute, then shrugged a little.  He didn't know what else to do or say, so he finished gathering his stuff together, then headed for the door.  He paused there, searching for something that might make the situation salvageable.  The look on Curtis' face disabused him of that.

 

"'Bye, Curt," he said softly, instead, his eyes solemn.  "Take care, man."

 

"Yeah, you too, Blair-boy."  The older man turned away from him.  Blair shook his head and left the apartment.

 

*******************************

 

Peruvian Jungles, May 1989

 

Ellison sniffed the air again, frowning.  The warm season had come and gone and now the wet season was here.  But something wasn't right.  Something was very much out of place, and he was damned if he could figure out what it was.

 

The Chopec Pass was now one of the best guarded against insurgents in the whole Peruvian jungle.  Jim and his warriors had seen to that.  He'd spent a lot of time lately in the village, consulting with the Chieftain and with Incacha.  Although many of the villagers were still wary of him, his blue eyes and pale skin made him a curious thing and a lot of them now spoke to him casually when he ventured into the village, like now.  He was always polite, deferential to the elders of the tribe, but he never sought out anyone, save the shaman and chieftain, and Kandiki.

 

Kandiki was a wise old woman with snapping black eyes who was the tribe's medicine woman.  She was sitting just outside, still in the shade, and motioned him over to her hut.

 

**The air is strange today.**  Her eyes were concerned as she looked at him.

 

**Yes.  Something is out of place and I can't figure out what it is.**  His grasp of the language had grown considerably, but he still felt he struggled to express himself.

 

**When you are to know, you will, Enqueri.  Some things are not to be rushed.**

 

**You know something, mother?**

 

Her eyes snapped at him, the skin around them crinkling merrily.  **You're looking for something you didn't know you needed.  You will find it soon.**

 

//A nice cryptic message.//   **What is that thing?**

 

She shrugged.  **You'll have to wait and see.**

 

**I trust your instincts, mother.**

 

**You should trust your own, Enqueri.**

 

He nodded his head at her and wondered what the hell she was talking about.

 

******************************

 

His chat with Incacha later that morning wasn't much clearer.  The shaman alluded to something strange, but wonderful, coming to find him.

 

"Your abilities as a guardian will lead you to it, and away from it at the same time.  They will provide the backbone and at the same time drive you from that which you seek."

 

He chatted for a little longer with this curious man who'd helped him focus some of his strange sensory abilities, then left to make his way back to his hut and the perimeters he still needed to walk.  His hand rubbed absently at the small black tattoo-like mark he now wore just above his left nipple; the mark of a Chopec warrior, with a special symbol for tribal guardian.  Incacha had marked him a month ago, shortly after the one year anniversary of the crash.  He could still feel slight raised edges of it, proof that it hadn't healed totally.  A mark that looked like a strangely-shaped "X", symbolizing two crossed spears, with a circle surrounding it, symbolizing the guardianship.

 

He sniffed the air again, frowning.  Was it a real scent, or something his lately over-active imagination was providing for him? No, Kandiki and Incacha both claimed to smell it too…or had they? Kandiki had merely said the air was strange; that could mean any number of things.  And when he'd mentioned her strange message to Incacha, the other man had merely smiled and looked at him like he was staring into his soul.

 

//Too much fucking hocus-pocus,// Ellison grumbled to himself.  //Get your mind back on your job, soldier, not on the strange predictions of a medicine woman in a primitive jungle tribe.//  He shouldered his weapons and headed off into the jungle, eyes moving constantly, ears prickling restlessly.

 

********************************

 

Near the Chopec Pass, Peru, May, 1989

 

Blair wandered along in the growing darkness. He'd never have admitted it to anyone, but he was scared. Lost in the middle of the Peruvian jungle, with night closing in. How could he have been so stupid?  All the professors and guides had asked was stay close to the camp until they were more acclimated; don't wander off even after.

 

Well, shit.  A couple of days didn't really count for getting acclimated.  And he'd wandered about as far as he could go.  Could things possibly get any worse than this?

 

His questions were answered by a loud hiss. He froze. //I didn't hear that,// he thought desperately. Eyes searching the twilight-shrouded jungle around him for the source of the sound. He hoped to locate whatever it was that was hissing, so that he could move away from it... quickly.

 

He turned to head back in the direction he'd come, and froze.  Hanging down from an overhead branch, less two feet away, was the biggest damned snake he'd ever seen. He gulped as the snake swung slowly toward him, forked tongue flicking the air. //Don't move,// he thought, trying to stay calm. //Just keep still until it goes away.//

 

The snake wasn't cooperating. The big, pointed head came closer, so close that he could feel the forked tongue against his cheek. He tried to slow his breathing, tried to keep perfectly still. Anything to make the big creature lose interest in him. For a moment, it seemed to work. The snake gave his face one final lick, then began to move away. The young man sighed in relief and took a step backwards... right into the rest of the snake's body. He barely had time to whirl around in surprise as the huge coils, as big around as his thigh, suddenly slithered around him, pinning his arms at his sides. The pressure that followed was enough to squeeze his screams out of his body.

 

"NO!" he wailed, feeling his ribs giving under the snake's muscle power. Knowing the others were too far away to hear him, he nonetheless cried out, shouting as loudly as he could,  "Oh God, somebody help me!"

 

As he emptied his lungs with the frantic cry for help, he felt the snake tighten further. Now he couldn't draw in enough air for even a whisper, and he closed his eyes in despair. //I'm going to die I'm going to die and be eaten by a snake and nobody will ever know what happened to me because I was too stupid to tell anyone where I was going and Mom oh Mom I'm so sorry I love you and oh God whichever one is listening please I promise to be good forever if you just make the PAIN STOP!// His head lolled back as the snake continued to crush him, slowly slipping to the ground to wrap more coils about him.

 

Ellison was out, doing a twilight perimeter sweep, checking for predators, intruders, hunting down the enemy. He was still a little rattled from his conversations with the tribal members earlier, and had been walking the trails since.  He was tired, but alert, and his senses were just informing him that all was quiet on the Ellison front, when he heard it; a scream. A man's scream of pain mixed with terror. Jim's head shot up and his eyes narrowed in concentration as he used his powerful ears to track down the direction of the sound. It was close. He had just taken a step toward the sound when he heard a loud hiss, followed by another gut-wrenching cry and the muted sound of bones slowly compressing. Ellison grimaced and increased his pace. Sounded like whoever it was was about to become Anaconda Chow.

 

//Strange,// Jim thought as he hurried through the jungle. It was rare for the natives to be taken by one of the big snakes. They all knew how to steer clear of the creatures. And a young man? A hunter for the tribe, probably, and even less likely to become prey. Jim sighed as he moved through what would be pitch darkness to other men, seeing his way easily. He was probably too late anyway. He fully expected to reach the scene and find no young man, but a very fat, happy-looking snake. He focused his ears again on the faint struggling sounds, the next of which stopped him in his tracks like he'd hit a stone wall.

    

"Oh God, somebody help me!"

 

Jim's eyes widened. English? ENGLISH?! What the hell? He was the only one in the area that should be speaking English. With new determination, Ellison charged ahead. He now used his superior eyesight to sweep the area of the jungle ahead of him, looking for his target.  He spotted him ahead, through the trees. It was a young Western man, small, slight, and flirting dangerously close to death. The snake coiled around him was the largest Ellison had ever seen. He pulled his knife.

 

The young man was slowly suffocating; his lips turning blue from lack of air. His ribs were being compressed inward; without immediate action they would begin to splinter and break, increasing the likelihood of puncturing  internal organs. Black explosions were blooming before his eyes, and he gave in to the approaching blackness. The pain was fading, at last, as he lay helplessly on the soggy ground, wrapped in the snake's coils. As everything began to go dark, he could swear he heard another voice, shouting.

 

"Hey!"

 

Jim roared with all his might as he ran up toward the snake and its helpless victim. As he'd hoped, the snake raised its head toward Ellison, to inspect the source of the new sound, the fresh source of food. It was the last thought the big reptile had, as Jim sliced the knife down in an arc, neatly severing the snake's head from its body. Jim flinched as he was splattered by a gout of cold reptilian blood. The huge reptile tightened reflexively, then abruptly relaxed its hold on the youth, and tried to slither away.  Jim reached down as soon as the coils let go and grabbed the limp young man's wrists. He dragged the kid backwards, away from the snake which now laying in a writhing, bleeding mass of scales and coils. Jim kept one eye on the monster as the great beast shifted once more, and lay still.

 

Once the threat of the snake was gone, Jim turned his attention to its intended meal. He carefully pressed his fingers to the younger man's throat, and gave a sigh of relief as he felt the weak but steady beat beneath his fingers. The kid wasn't breathing though, and if Ellison didn't remedy that soon, his vanquishing of the snake would be for nothing. After checking that the young man's neck and spine were intact, the soldier tilted his head back and gently breathed a shallow lungful of air into him. He didn't want to fill the kid's lungs too far, in case there were broken ribs.  He'd had enough shit to deal with from Benny dying that way; no need to add to the tremendous guilt by sending a kid on like that.

 

A few more gentle breaths from Ellison and the younger man gasped. Jim held him by the shoulders as he wheezed and choked, starved lungs demanding air. After a moment, the spasms stopped, replaced by labored, but steady respiration. Ellison smiled in satisfaction. It felt good to be able to save someone. God knew, too much of what he did lately was the taking of lives, rather than saving them.

 

Jim's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of heavy breathing. He raised his head and scanned the surrounding jungle, spotting the leopard easily. The big cat was still about a quarter mile away, but  no doubt homing in on the scent of the snake's blood. They had to get out of there, and now. There was no telling how many other predators would soon be making a beeline for the remains of the anaconda.

 

Carefully, minding the bruised and likely injured ribs, Ellison slid his hands under the young man and gently lifted the limp body into his arms. As he stood up, the kid's eyes flew open, wide with terror, and he began to struggle weakly.

 

"No, no it's okay," Jim said quickly, getting the young man to meet his eyes. His heart jumped a couple of beats. God, what eyes. He had to forcibly tear his gaze away from the sapphire pools that looked on him in fear and pain. He began to move through the brush back to his camp, speaking in a soft, reassuring tone to the young man, who was now silent with fright. Jim realized he must look a sight, face streaked with dark  paint and snake's blood. Kid probably thought he was some kind of witch doctor. "Don't be afraid, I won't hurt you," he said quietly.  "I'm taking you back to my camp where you'll be safe, where I can fix you up, all right?" Jim glanced at the pale face again. He was relieved when the kid seemed to relax a little in his arms. He still hadn't said a word, and Ellison was starting to wonder if he might not be suffering some kind of brain damage, or mental trauma.

 

They went along in silence for a long few minutes. Jim stumbled once, while glancing at the kid when he gasped a little in pain. As Ellison teetered, he felt arms reach up nervously to clutch at his shoulders. "It's okay kid, I've got you," he said in a soft, reassuring voice, regaining his footing and moving on. Soon, the kid's arms were wrapped tightly around his muscular neck, and Jim could see the curl-covered head bobbing as he tried to stay awake. "Go to sleep, if you want," he told him, tightening his arms just a little. Strange, this sudden rush of protectiveness he was feeling. He'd met this person less than an hour ago, well, hadn't even really met him, since they hadn't even exchanged names; yet Jim knew he would do anything to keep him safe. Bizarre. He took a deep breath to calm himself and his wayward thoughts and realized that the strangeness to the air from earlier was gone.  If it was possible to scent peace and calm, he had.

 

His thoughts trailed off as a weak voice suddenly reached his ears.

 

"Blair."

 

The big man looked down, actually stopping in mid-stride. "What'd you say?"  He'd heard the kid loud and clear, but he wanted to get him to talk a little more. "What was that?" He leaned his head a bit to foster the illusion that he was listening with normal hearing.

 

"Blair... my name's.... Blair," the kid gasped, wincing as a wave of pain went through him. "I... don't like... to be called... kid," he added weakly. His eyelids were droopy and his skin was cool and a little clammy.  Possible shock, the medic portion of Jim's brain offered.

 

Ellison smiled. "Okay, Blair," he said softly, starting forward again. They went along in silence for awhile, Jim moving steadily through the darkness and Blair laying quiet and unresponsive in his arms. After another few minutes, Jim's curiosity got the better of him. "If you don't mind me asking, ki... Blair; what in the world is a Westerner doing in this part of the jungle?" Jim shuddered at the memory of the young man's body being crushed by the snake. "This is a rough neighborhood, know what I mean?"

 

Blair was silent for a moment, rallying his strength. "I'm... a student," he said, wheezing against his bruised lungs. "R... Rainier... University... upstate Wa... Washington." He closed his sleep-heavy eyes, head drooping again. "Got... separated from... my group...," his voice trailed off.

 

"What's a student doing in the Peruvian jungle?" Jim asked. There was no response.  The big man looked down sharply, alarmed. The kid was asleep. Jim sighed in relief, then smiled when Blair laid his head on Jim's shoulder; a little gesture of trust that touched his heart. He found himself studying the kid's face as he moved along. Innocent. Beautiful.  The long, dark lashes that fluttered against the stubble-roughed cheeks. The full, sensual lips with their little cupid-bow pout, the adorable turned up nose.... Ellison shook his head, trying to clear it. What the hell was wrong with him? Here was this young man, hurt and in need of his help, and all he could think of was....

 

Ellison pushed the thoughts from his mind. He'd been alone in the jungle for a long time, and the locals weren't a consideration.  It was only natural to feel attraction toward the first non-native he had close contact with. Humans, especially Westerners, weren't meant to be alone.  His sudden rush of affection for this kid was totally understandable. //Yeah, keep going, Jimbo. Maybe you'll even believe it, eventually,// his mind scoffed at him.

 

Soon, Ellison came into the familiar clearing where he had made camp, and ducked carefully through the flap of his makeshift hut. He knelt and gently laid his sleeping burden down on the pile of brush he used for a pallet. Blair moaned a little in his sleep, clutching at Jim's arms as the bigger man eased him down.

 

"Shh, it's okay," Ellison soothed, laying a hand against Blair's forehead in an oddly tender gesture. "You're safe now, Blair. I won't let anyone hurt you."  Jim smiled as Blair's body relaxed, and he settled back into sleep.

 

********************************

 

Jim left the kid sleeping the next morning when he went out to recon his area.  It took several hours to walk the perimeter, since he was by himself, so he left some cold food and a canteen near the pallet.  He didn't figure Blair would wake up much, but just in case...

 

To his surprise, Blair was not only awake, but had managed to prop himself up a bit and was looking around in interest.  From what Jim could see his eyes were a little dull--probably from pain.  Jim had some herbals Kandiki had given him for that.  His nostrils flared as he truly caught Blair's scent for the first time -- although it had registered last night he'd been too caught up in what was happening to take much notice.  He realized with a start that this was the scent, or very close to it, that had been bothering him, niggling at him, for the last couple of days.  Then it had been an annoyance, something to puzzle over because he couldn't pinpoint the source.  Now, however, his body was tightening in response, reminding him again of how long it had been.  And this kid was beautiful enough to trigger that automatic response, especially that lush, pouty mouth...

 

There was more to it than just physical hunger though.  This kid, no, he corrected himself, this *man*,  touched a chord in him.  Jim shook his head and ducked into the shelter.  "Hey, how you feelin'?"

 

Blair looked up at Jim and tried to smile.  "Hurts.  Everywhere."

 

"I got some herbs from the medicine woman in the village--she said they'd help."

 

"What are they?"

 

"I don't have a clue.  Something for the pain."  Jim searched Blair's face.  "You know about herbals?"

 

Blair smiled, a genuine one this time.  "Some.  I'm an anthropology student.  You pick up stuff like that."  He shifted and grimaced.  "Hey, man...not that I don't like the accommodations...but I need to go.  Uhhh!"  He grunted as he tried to shift to a standing position.  Jim was next to him in a heartbeat.

 

"C'mon, Blair...let me help."  He gently supported Blair, giving him a secure base to lean on.  "I'm assuming you mean you have to take a leak."

 

"Yeah."

 

"Can you?"

 

"What do you mean?"  Blair felt his face grow warm. 

 

"By yourself.  Do you need help, or can you by yourself?"

 

"Lead me to a tree...I'll lean against it."

 

****************************

 

//How embarrassing,// Blair thought as he buttoned up his jeans. //Not even able to take a leak myself.//  The 'lean against a tree' idea had sounded good in theory, but in reality…  His face flushed red with the memory of Jim having to hold him upright while he relieved himself and he shook his head in dismay. //Nice going, Sandburg.  Lost from the group, nearly killed and eaten by a giant snake...what else are you going to do?//

 

"Blair!"  The voice was insistent, and Blair suddenly realized that the other occupant of the hut was addressing him.

 

"Sorry man.  I spaced out, I guess."

 

"Really?  I didn't even notice."

 

Blair flushed again as the sarcasm registered.  "What'd you say? And what's your name, man?  I don't mean to be rude, but if you told me, I don't remember."

 

Jim shook his head, nearly laughing.  Jungle etiquette--never exchange personal information.  "Ellison.  Captain James Ellison, US Army.  You can call me Jim, if you want. You?"

 

"Blair Sandburg, almost-graduate-student."  He flashed even white teeth at Jim, and the other man felt his heart begin thudding double time.

 

"Almost?"

 

"Well, technically, I am.  I graduated this past spring; got my BS in Anthro, and I start the Master's program this fall.  That's the reason I'm down here--working on a tribal study.  Part of the program of study is field work...and something made me feel like I needed to be in Peru."  Blair watched as Jim jumped up and began pacing around the small room.  He shifted to a more comfortable position on his back.  "What'd you want to ask me?

 

"I honestly don't remember now."  Jim grabbed a canteen and took a long swallow.  "Thirsty?"

 

Blair shook his head.  "Just tired.  Need to--"  his mouth opened in an impressive yawn,  "--sleep some more."

 

Jim nodded and capped the canteen.  "It's gonna take several days at least before you're not sore.  I don't think anything's broken, but definitely strained.  You're lucky, Sandburg, that I was out there and heard you."  Jim caught Blair's eyes with his own.  "Another few minutes and you'd have been nothing but a memory, and possibly indigestion for that snake."  Jim watched Blair's eyes widen, and pulled back, afraid he'd be drawn into the electricity he saw generated in those eyes.  "What were you doing out there anyway?" //Oh, shit...have to give him the herbals.// Jim uncapped the canteen again, and poured some water into a small pot on his makeshift "stove".

 

Blair closed his eyes.  "Are you gonna let me sleep, or what, man?"  He let his voice echo his irritation a little.  He was tired, sore, ached in places he didn't know he had...and he was feeling the strangest feelings for this large, gruff man. //Is this it? Is this what I've been waiting for…needing to come down here for?//  Since opening his eyes last night, being carried in Ellison's arms, he couldn't put the other man out of his mind.  It was like they had forged a connection in the very brief time they'd known each other.  He tuned back into Jim, not even really needing to hear the words, just liking the man's voice.

 

"We gotta make this tea for you, Sandburg.  Forgot about it for a minute there."  Jim let his memory flash on helping the kid take a pee.  Close body contact with another human being was something he'd sorely missed and he'd grown hard watching - helping - him.  Not to mention the rest of it.  There was *something* about this almost-grad-student that was pulling him into a place he hadn't been…hadn't wanted to be…in a long, long time.

 

"I told you--I'm part of a group doing a tribal study.  I decided to take a walk, and got turned around.  Next thing I knew, I was totally lost...and you know the rest."

 

"Any idea of where your group is?"

 

Blair shook his head.  "We only got here a couple of days ago--just been here long enough to set up our camp, and get a little settled.  Where are we here?"

 

Jim shrugged as he added the herbs to the boiling water, removing it from the heat.  "I could show you the coordinates on a grid map, but it wouldn't mean anything to you--a grid map doesn't read like a regular map."

 

"Swell."  Blair lay his head back.  Just fucking swell.  "How long will you be here?"

 

Jim frowned. //Can't reveal too much information.//  "Sorry, that's classified.  But I can tell you I'll be here at least until you're healed.  We'll figure it out, Sandburg.  I'll get you back to your people."

 

Blair grimaced as he shifted to raise up.  Ellison was handing him a cup with some bitter-smelling liquid in it.  "You make me sound like a lost puppy, or something.  Thanks, man."  He took a long drink, making a face at the taste, but quickly draining the mug.

 

"If you could see yourself, Sandburg, you'd know where that reference comes from.  You look like you're about 10 years old...and you have these puppy-dog eyes..."  Jim broke off as Blair stared at him, a strange look in those fabulous eyes.  "I have to get back out to...Well, I have to get back out there.  You be okay in here?"

 

"Yeah, man...I'm just gonna sleep for the rest of the day.  I'll be fine."  Blair waved toward the door.  "You go on."

 

Jim headed for the door.  He had to get out of here, now.  "If you need anything, give a holler.  I'll hear you."

 

"Okay, yeah, whatever,"  Blair mumbled as he fell asleep.  He was gone before Jim had left the clearing.

 

******************************

 

True to his prediction, Blair slept most of the day.  Jim returned when the afternoon shadows were lengthening into evening to find his unexpected guest struggling into a sitting position, eyes still dark and shadowed with exhaustion and pain.

 

"Hey.  Blair.  Hang on a second."  The soldier hurried into the hut to help support the younger man into an upright position.  "You sure you want to be sitting up?"

 

Blair gasped a little as his bruised body shifted to accommodate, but nodded.  "Need to.  My body needs to move a little…promote circulation…get the healing started."

 

"I thought the best thing to do when you're hurt is lie still?"  Had it been that long since his training?

 

"Nah--most healers know that you're better off getting up and moving around.  Doctors and nurses are finally starting to get that, too.  Not that I have much to do with modern medicine."

 

"You don't?"  Ellison shifted back a bit from the younger man, needing a break from the incredible electrical current that seemed to flow back and forth between them. //I wonder if he feels it too?  I wonder what's *causing* it.//

 

Sandburg was shaking his head.  "My mother never went in much for modern medicine--she's kind of a non-conformist."  He laughed quietly, carefully, thinking about his mother.  Non-conformist, indeed!  "She's kind of into the hippy thing.  Y'know, free love, all that."

 

Jim made a face at him.  "So I'm rooming with a flower-child?"  The voice was serious, beneath the teasing words.

 

"Huh-uh.  I'm way more conforming than Naomi is, man.  Like my freedom…but I like some of the benefits that come from conforming, too.  Western medicine, however, isn't one of them.  I go to a curandero," the spanish term for healer rolled off the younger man's lips and Jim wondered how certain other words would sound before forcing his mind away from that dangerous track and back onto Blair's words, "when he's available."

 

"You never go to the doctor?"  Ellison raised an eyebrow.

 

"Not never, man, just not often."  Blair raised his own eyebrow. "How in the hell did we get on THIS topic?"

 

The older man shrugged, dismissing the subject.  "Beats me."  He stretched out on the floor, conscious of Blair's eyes on him, trying not to let that dark gaze get to him.  He had to do some stretching exercises before his body starting cramping from all the patrolling he'd done today.  "How you feeling now?"

 

"Tired, sore, but better.  You got any more of those herbs?" 

 

"Yeah--I'll get you some more in just a minute."  Ellison arched, reaching his hands behind his head his head in a long, almost sensual stretch.

 

Blair found his gaze drawn to the man now supine on the floor before and his heart thudded painfully against his chest at the sight.  Jim Ellison was truly a magnificent example of a raw, primal male animal.  Tall, solid-looking, but not overly large.  Well developed muscles bulged in all the right places, around camo pants and a tank-tee.  He could see the power in that body, the unconscious grace and fluidity when Ellison moved…almost like one of the big jungle cats.   What would it be like to hold that power in his arms, to taste it intimately?  His body shivered a little in reaction to his thoughts.   The larger man shifted again, and Blair's eyes caught a flash of inky black against pale flesh.

 

"What's that?" he gestured toward the spot on Ellison's chest, then blushed when the older man shot him an indecipherable look.  "Sorry, man.  I saw the black--it kinda stands out."

 

"No, not a problem."  Jim sat up and pulled the tee-shirt over his head, his body rippling with the movement.  "It's a, well, a kind of tattoo."

 

"Really? What kind?"  Blair squinted in the dim light, wishing he had his glasses so he could see better.

 

Ellison sighed and shifted forward on his knees so that Blair could get a better look.  "It's a tribal mark."

 

"That is *so* cool, man."  Blair leaned toward the larger man, moving carefully, mindful of his injured body, his eyes tracing  the lines.  "Can you tell me about it?" he asked, looking up at Jim.

 

The older man shuddered a little as warm breath caressed his skin when Blair spoke.  The heat and moisture seemed to flow over him, lightly stroking his nipple, which tightened in response.  "Um…" his voice was suddenly hoarse and he paused to clear his throat, hoping that would help.  "It's, that is, the two lines crossed symbolize spears, which is the tribal symbol for a warrior, and the circle surrounding it is my own personal symbol."

 

To his ever-lasting relief, because he was suddenly so turned on he was on the verge of embarrassing himself, Blair leaned back away from him. "Way cool, man.  It looks fairly new.  When'd ya get it? How was it done?"

 

"Last month. And it's made by cutting the skin, then rubbing in an antiseptic salve made of woodash--that's what makes it black.  I guess technically it's a scar…but it looks more like a tattoo."  Jim rubbed his fingers over the small symbol absently, then mentally shook his head to clear it.  "Okay, Sandburg."  He rose to his feet, slapping his thighs.  "Let me get you the herbs, and find us something to eat."

 

"Is there any reason why I can't walk around a little bit outside? I need to take a leak again, and stretch my legs a little bit."

 

"As long as you stay in the clearing--don't venture beyond that.  The locals don't know you, so you're suspect to them unless you're with me, and the animals would make a good meal out of you."  Jim watched Blair with worried eyes.  "You sure you're up to it? I can help you again."

 

Blair flushed with a combination of excitement and embarrassment at Jim's words. //Man I'd love to have your hands on me…but not for taking a piss.//  "No, man, I can do it.  Thanks.  I really do need to move around a little."

"Lemme help you up, then," the bigger man was saying, hands already reaching for Blair.  The warm, vibrant body under his touch was stirring feelings in him he thought he'd never feel again; hadn't thought he'd ever *want* to feel again.  They got Blair up on his feet, then Jim stood dead still as the younger man hung on him, waiting to steady himself.  It was all he could do not to clutch at him when Sandburg shifted and moved away.

 

"I'll be right out here, just walking around," the low-pitched voice called to him.

 

"Fine," he managed hoarsely.  "I'll let you know when I've got some chow ready."

 

He watched Sandburg walk stiffly, awkwardly, out the door of the hut, his eyes raking over the lean figure.  Small, but not tiny, nor feminine.  There wasn't anything at all feminine about the younger man, not even the long hair he wore, nor the earrings threaded through his left lobe.  He was small, but sturdy; firm, though not muscular.  Had had at some point some weight-training, but nothing like what Jim was used to.  He had a rougher five-o'clock shadow than Jim himself sported, and more body hair.  Oh, god, that hair.  Visions of running his tongue through it, tasting the sweat that gathered on it and around it--

 

A low, primal sound rang through the hut and Jim was startled back into reality by the realization that it came from him.  His cock was rock hard in his pants, and he was breathing fast and hard. //This is gonna drive me fucking insane,// he mused as he adjusted himself.  He judged it would be several more days at least before Blair was in any kind of condition to go tramping through the jungle underbrush; meanwhile, he was going to go out of his mind with wanting the younger man.  A slow burn moved through him when he recognized that he *did* want him; it had been a long time since he'd felt desire for another person.  There were a few warriors in the tribe who'd made casual offers, and he'd had his share and then some of offers from some of the women; truth of the matter was he, he just couldn't bring himself to be interested.  No amount of rationalization had been able to assuage him of the guilt he felt over Benny's death, no matter that he wasn't personally responsible for the accident or the other man's injuries.

 

But now--perhaps the healing had finally started; he could look at another man again and feel the desire to lay with him, to be with him.  Or was it something unique to Blair himself?  Jim shook his head at his musings and began moving around the hut to prepare their dinner.

 

*****************************

 

Blair leaned back against the tree, tilting his head toward the sky.  It was early afternoon, and although Jim had assured him this was the rainy season for the area, it was bright, sunny and warm.

 

He'd been Captain Ellison's guest now for five days; five days which had been at the same time the longest and shortest periods of time in his life.  Long because he wanted to heal *faster*, in order to spend more time with the man, short because he wanted to spend more time with the man before having to return to his group.

 

He'd never been a big believer in the idea of love at first sight, and if he was being honest with himself, he didn't fall in love with Ellison at first glance; it might have actually taken as long as 24 hours.  He snorted.  In his book, 24 hours was as close to 'at first sight' as you got.

 

And just what right did he have falling in love with this dude anyway?  Oh, never mind that he was quite probably the most gorgeous man Blair had ever laid eyes on.  Tall, well-built, eyes that were the slate-blue of a late afternoon sky after rainfall, a deep bass voice that Blair would happily listen to from now until eternity…Ellison was the epitome of what Blair had been looking for.

 

He was also a captain in the United States army, and the leader of a band of local warriors who, in lieu of his own squadron, whose helicopter had been presumably shot down by guerrillas, was fighting his own little war out here.  Ergo, not exactly Mr. 'I'm-available-for-a-long-term-commitment'.

 

They'd spent so many hours over the last several nights, staring at each other over campfire flames, talking about themselves to the other, sharing thoughts, ideas, opinions.  He'd been horrified to learn that Jim had been here in the jungle for nearly 14 months now, with no outside contact; apparently resigned to being considered dead.

 

"The Army will come looking for me, for the rest of them, when they feel the time is right.  For now I have a mission to carry out, and I was ordered to radio silence.  Contacting them would violate my orders from my superior, if they even admitted to my presence down here," was all Ellison had said when Blair had offered to contact the Army for him.

 

There was something else about Ellison though…something that had been niggling at the back of Blair's brain for nearly the entire time he'd been here now.  How had the older man known where to find him? He'd said he heard Blair scream, that night the snake attacked him.  *How* had he heard him?  The small encampment where they were staying was well away from the area Jim normally patrolled, if Blair had been paying attention when Jim talked about it.  And his casual comments: "just holler if you need anything".  Well, yeah, sure.  Jim walked a one-to-three mile perimeter sweep four times a day.  How would he hear?  And seeing things that Blair couldn't begin to see--the large panther that had stalked them for a mile or so yesterday.  The bend in the brush that showed where some of the game animals had been.  Smell--woodsmoke from a campfire they happened upon; Jim had smelt it for nearly four hundred yards before they actually *saw* the remains of the fire. 

 

Could this man have some of the attributes that Burton talked about in his writings on Sentinels? Blair thought about the mark that Jim wore.  Two crossed spears inside a circle.  A circle protects--it was used in magicking for that…it guards…his own personal symbol…Tribal guard? Guardian?  How or why would he be the guardian of a local tribe?  He shook his head, suddenly having more questions than answers, and finding he was hot from the sun.  He shifted carefully to get to his feet, although the bruising and pain was nearly gone.  A momentary weakness left his legs shaking under him and Blair gasped when he felt himself start to fall.

 

A large warm hand was suddenly there, startling him, supporting  him, settling him on his feet.  Blair stared up into the eyes of Jim Ellison, noting the intense blue, the flare of heat followed by the banking of arousal. //He wants me, too.//

 

"Where'd you come from?"  he demanded of Jim, surprise and shock wearing off now, leaving him with only his own arousal to deal with.

 

"I was nearly at the camp when I saw you start to get up.  I'm quiet, Blair--I spend 90 percent of my time out in the jungle, surveying, stalking, moving.  My survival often depends on my ability to move with stealth…so I do."

 

"Well, you're good at it.  Damn, if I hadn't already been off balance I probably would have peed my pants from the scare you gave me."

 

"I'm sorry.  I'll try to make more noise next time."  Jim held his hands out in a placating gesture, hoping to soothe the younger man.  He could smell the musk rising from him, the unmistakable odor of arousal.  The intense indigo eyes were so hot toward him they nearly singed him with their heat, and the younger man's heart and breathing were off the scale. //He wants me, too.//

 

They stared at one another across a space of less than two feet; lips were parted, moistened with flashes of pink tongue and wet saliva, more musk was released into the air.  They swayed dangerously close to one another for a long, long moment before moving back into their own separate personal spaces.

 

"I, um, made some stuff for lunch…if you're hungry."  Blair was aware that his voice was an octave lower, and raspier than usual; he also didn't care.  He could feel the heat from Jim's body, so tantalizingly close, yet still so far away.

 

"Uh, yeah, that'd be good.  What'd you make?"  The moment was past now and Jim was aware of his concerted effort to push the swell of arousal down.  Lunch seemed like a good way to start doing that.

 

Blair shrugged.  "It's kind of like a stew; all vegetables though--if you want meat, you're shit out of luck, man.  I'm not a hunter."

 

Jim regarded him with some surprise as they began walking toward the hut.  "What'd you do, ransack my supplies?"

 

A brief, embarrassed grin gave him his answer.  "I wanted to have something ready for you when you got back, since you had to leave so early this morning."  Blair dropped his head to regard the ground for a minute.  "Sorry 'bout messing with your stuff, man.  I was just--"

 

"Sandburg--relax.  It's okay.  I think I've figured out that you're not the enemy.  As far as lunch goes, I'm starved, and food sounds good; especially food that *I* haven't had to fix myself.  D'you know how long its been since I've had someone else's cooking to eat?"

 

Blair shook his head, still not totally over his embarrassment.  "I'd guess at least a year, man."

 

"Longer than that, kid.  I was out on other field exercises for almost six months before this mission."

 

"Whoa, man."  Blair ducked into the small hut and headed for the small hearth Jim had set up to cook indoors when the weather was bad.  It had been raining this morning when he'd started the stew, so indoors it had been.  The little thatched building actually felt cozy, fire going, the smell of cooking food moving on the air currents.  //I could stay here and play house with him for as long as forever takes,// the younger man mused as he began scooping a bowl of food up for his host.  "So, like, I guess the Army doesn't go much for the old long-term relationship thing, huh."

 

Jim removed his weapons and kevlar, then stripped down to his waist, pausing to inspect the several small scratches he'd received early this morning, when bits of jungle fauna and flora had gone flying from bullet fire.

 

"That depends on what you're using as 'long-term', and what section you're in."  He accepted the bowl of stew and sat down to eat.

 

"Well, my definition of long-term is anything over six months, and what would it matter what section you're in?  And what do you mean by section, anyway?"  Blair scooped up his own bowl and joined Jim on the floor to eat.

 

"This is good, by the way," the older man said first, shoveling the food in.  "I was hungry. Thanks."

 

"No prob, man."  Blair watched him, trying not to be too obvious.  "So--the section thing?"

 

"Well, I'm a Ranger; you know, special forces.  Like the Airborne, or the Navy Seals, or some of the special air force pilots.  Y'know, the highly trained, specialized experts."  His face and voice reflected his enthusiasm for his chosen profession, and Blair smiled into his bowl.  "Anyway, people get married, have families, stuff like that, even when the soldier is in the S.F., it's just not real easy on the family members left behind."

 

"How do you mean?"  Blair picked up Jim's now-empty bowl and handed him his.  He wasn't hungry; a tight coil of excitement was unwinding in his stomach.  He felt nearly sick from the sense of expectation and anticipation, and wasn't even sure why.

 

Ellison frowned.  It was getting harder and harder to remember why he wasn't supposed to share this information; he'd lived near and among the Chopec for so long now that he often said things--things he knew didn't matter, because they certainly wouldn't know what he was talking about.  It was different with Blair.  Not only was the man a Westerner, like himself, but he was bright, intellectual, curious.  He could put two and two together and somehow come up with way more than four.  On the other hand, why couldn't he tell him some basic stuff? It wasn't like he was going to spill the Ranger code--not that he even thought the kid would be interested, if he did--and who was Blair going to tell?  And on a much deeper, more primitive level, he trusted Blair.  Implicitly, without question or reserve.

 

"Jim?"  A warm hand touched his arm and Ellison started.  "Hey, man you were far, far away there for a minute."

 

"Sorry, just gathering my thoughts."  The larger man stared at him for a long moment.  "Mostly, when you're connected with someone in S.F., if that soldier is wounded, or, especially if he's killed during an exercise, the family can never know the real story of what happened.  A guerrilla bullet that kills him becomes an accident on a training mission.  A chopper that is shot down over enemy territory becomes a mechanical failure on a routine flight.  Stuff like that."

 

Blair's face reflected his view of that.  "That's awful, man!  Why can't the family be told the truth."

 

"Because 99 percent of the time, we're operating under the code of 'we know you're there, but if you're discovered we'll deny any knowledge'.  It's called 'cover your ass', Sandburg.  Yeah, it sucks, but that's the gist of it."

 

The younger man regarded him quietly for a moment.  "So who got notified of your 'mechanical failure', Jim?" he asked softly.

 

Ellison's face tightened.  "No one," he whispered harshly, then got up and stalked out the door.

 

//Way to go, Sandburg,// the younger man berated himself silently.  What had happened? One minute they were discussing some military stuff, and the next, Ellison was stalking out of the small structure like he couldn't stand to be in the same space with him.  What the hell was up with that?  He shook his head and started cleaning up the mess from lunch.  When Jim came back--assuming that would happen sometime soon--he would ask him to take him back to his camp.  He was still sore; traveling through the jungle would be painful, but manageable.  It was time to get away from here before he lost any more of his heart and soul to this man.

 

****************************

 

Ellison moved through the forest, trying to work off some of the pain, frustration and anger that the conversation with Blair had raised.  Oh, not the younger man's fault--he had no way of knowing that the innocent questions he was asking were the hair-triggers for all of the emotions that Jim had locked away over the last decade; then buried deep in the last year.

 

If he did ever get rescued from here, he was going to resign his commission.  He couldn't do  this any longer.  As much as he loved the army, his life within it, and believed in what he was doing, there were easier ways to work to preserve justice and peace.  He didn't want a life anymore where he was ruled by others as to whom he could sleep with (although, the small voice in his head whispered, that's always going to be a consideration, if you chose the same sex); when he could sleep with them, and what they'd be told if something happened to him.  He didn't want to have a spouse, or a family, and know that if he died in a battle fighting guerrillas, they'd be told it was a training accident.  He wanted his family, even in grief, to be proud of what he was doing and why he'd done it--not to have to wonder, and guess.

 

At least in another job, a civilian something, he could let some people know, discretely, if his significant other was a guy.  His heart tightened when he realized that if Benny hadn't been on the mission with him, he'd still be sitting back at Ft. Campbell, wondering what really had gone down.  He maybe would have heard a little bit of scuttlebutt; no matter *how* careful people were, rumors always got out, but he wouldn't have been able to ask any leading questions--not unless he wanted to risk exposing who he was and what his true relationship with Captain Ellison had been.

 

Thoughts of that happening to Blair--for the brief, unguarded moment he allowed himself to consider the younger man his--made his heart throb and his head ache.  No way.  He couldn't do that to anyone else; certainly not to someone he loved.

 

A flash of heat, of feeling, rushed through him then at the sound of that word echoing around the corridors of his brain.  'Love'.  Did he? Love Blair?  Well…more like head-over-heels in love with the younger man, but this wasn't the time for nit-picking.  Just using the two words in the same sentence was enough of a shock.

 

He trudged his way through the thickness of the jungle wondering how life could be so wonderful and so rotten all at the same time.  Realizing that you found the man you wanted to love forever, then realizing nearly in the same thought that that could never happen as long as you stayed in your chosen field…  Thunder rolled overhead and he grimaced, knowing that in about 60 seconds he was gonna be wetter than if he'd jumped in the river to go swimming. Yep, this was really a great day.

 

******************************

 

Blair looked up from the notes he'd been making on some paper he'd found tucked away in his jacket.  The bushes off to the front of him, just beyond the small clearing Jim had made, had suddenly rattled, indicating that there was probably something out there…something he couldn't see.   He straightened up, peering into the darkness of the foliage.

 

"Jim?  That you?"  The older man had promised he make a little more noise, but Blair didn't see him just standing there making noise; Jim would come forward.  Even if he was still pissed off--and Blair couldn't figure out what he'd said that should have triggered a reaction like he got--he would at least show himself.  "Jim, if that's you, you're freakin' me out here, man."

 

No answer.  Fuck.  That meant it probably wasn't Jim.  One of the local natives?  Probably not, Jim had told him they rarely came to the encampment.  Besides, they would have been like Ellison, most likely.  Just sneaking up on him, unawares.  A low growl carried through the brush and wind-noise to his ears.  A cat-like growl.  Shit, he was NOT liking this.  He opened his mouth to yell, Jim's voice running through his mind.  "If you ever need me, just holler.  I'll hear you."  Nothing came out.  Great.  He swallowed, his throat tight with fear.  What the hell was he gonna do if some big jungle cat decided he would make a great meal?  He swallowed again, then opened  his mouth.

 

"Get *back*, you!  Jim!  Help!"

 

He was opening his mouth to shout again when a large cat appeared in the clearing.  Jaguar? Maybe.  He wasn't totally sure.  It wasn't a panther--they were bigger, sleeker.  This cat stared at him, the cold, dark primal eyes of an inborn killer, then began a slow pace, moving about the clearing, as if trying to figure how best to come at him.  Blair watched it, moving slowly backward, wondering if it would make a difference if he was inside the hut.  Probably not.  Damn thing would probably follow him and make a bigger mess killing him inside.

 

He flicked his eyes to the side wondering if he had a snowball's chance in hell of running past the damn thing, then figured not.  And why the hell was it here, anyway?  Surely the smell of woodsmoke from the fire next to the hut should have kept it and all other carnivores away.  Another low growl caught his attention and he flicked his eyes back to see the jaguar settling into a belly-crawl position, probably getting ready to pounce.  He took a deep breath and was about to make a run for it when a loud, feline scream sounded through the clearing and a panther jumped onto the back of the jaguar.

 

*******************************

 

Jim heard Blair's yell with nearly a half-mile still to go to camp.  This was the worst part about the heightened senses--although he could hear/see/smell...he couldn't *get* there any faster.  He still had very normal running abilities.  "Get back, you."  Who, or what was in the camp with the younger man?  Then he heard the warning scream of an animal who's had its territory invaded, and the primal scream of an enraged, possibly wounded cat.  Great, two of them, duking it out in his clearing, with Blair there alone.  He shoved his weapons further onto his back and sped up as much as he could manage.

 

*******************************

 

The smaller cat was dead.  Blair stood near the entrance to the hut, staring in horrified fascination, unable to believe he'd just watched what he'd just watched.  The panther had fought it, hard, not letting the smaller cat get the upper hand at any point during the confrontation. Now it stood in front of him, its tail flicking restlessly back and forth.  He watched it, the tightly coiled, barely contained control; the sleek, beautiful power contained within it.  For some reason, staring at it, knowing it had fought for *him* made him think of Jim.  And here it was, obviously ready to go, but just as obviously, waiting for something.

 

What that something was came crashing through the underbrush a moment later, in the form of a pissed-off, scared-to-death James Ellison.  He had his Chopec bow held at ready, already sighting the big cat, drawing the string back tautly.

 

It was just like his dream, Sandburg realized, watching the interplay of characters. He, wounded and defenseless. The large predator ready to take advantage of that. The larger predator coming to his rescue, then waiting for…

 

"Jim--No!"  Blair threw his arms up, jumping forward, hoping to end this before it ended in another way.  The large panther turned with a deafening roar and Jim found himself lost in the ebony depths of the animal's eyes.  He stared transfixed for a moment, then wrenched his gaze away to look at Blair.

 

"You okay, Sandburg?" he demanded, then blanched when he saw the smaller cat, bloodied and not moving, at the edge of the clearing.

 

"Fine, man.  He...he protected me, Jim.  Just came out of nowhere and fought the jag...killed him for me.  Then he hung around and waited--I guess he was waiting 'til you got here."

 

Jim stared at him, watching him intently.  "So the jag came into the clearing first?  Just came in?"

 

Blair nodded, his eyes holding Jim's.  "At first I thought it was you, making noise like you'd said you'd do.  Then it growled.  I didn't figure you growl."

 

"Depends on the circumstances," Jim said, his blood pressure beginning to rise.  "Jesus, Sandburg--"

 

"I'm okay, Jim. Honest."  To say he was surprised when the older man pulled him into a hard, tight hug, was the understatement of the century.  To his further shock, Jim was shaking hard against him.  "Jim...it's okay.  I'm okay.  Really."

 

He could hear Jim muttering in his ear as hot hands smoothed up and down his back.  "I can't lose you...not you too...not here..."

 

Blair brought his arms up to hold the older man, his body shifting into a protective stance.  There was a gentle soul housed in this harsh, gruff exterior; a gentle soul that had been scarred and hurt over the years.  He lowered his voice to a soft whisper, murmuring against the hard chest he was pressed to, "It's okay, Jim.  You're not going to lose me."

 

They stood there, hugging each other, for several long minutes before Jim had enough strength to pull himself away from the warmth and safety of Blair's arms.  He stared at the younger man for a moment, his eyes boring into the smoky blue depths in front of him, seeking…what? What was he looking for there? Absolution? Answers? Questions that *he* could answer? He shook his head and shifted his gaze.

 

"I'm sorry," he told him finally, brushing several sweat-dampened curls back behind one ear.  "Didn't mean to…well, y'know."

 

Blair let his arms drop to his sides, wishing he could think of a good, or at least plausible, reason to keep holding on to the older man.  "S'okay, man.  I understand…and we all need a hug sometimes.  Even tough army dudes.  Don't sweat it."

 

********************************

 

Jim took care of the bloody carcass almost immediately, telling Blair that it was dangerous to leave the scent of blood hanging in the air where other predators could smell it and come investigating. 

 

The younger man hung out inside the small shelter, sensing that Jim needed some time alone with his thoughts; he'd revealed a great deal of his feelings with the impromptu hug that afternoon and Blair had a feeling that the reticent Army captain wasn't as used to that as he was.

 

He listened with half an ear to the sounds outside that indicated Jim was back from where he'd gone to dispose of the dead animal.  The sun was beginning its downward descent, and if Jim was out there it seemed like a good time to approach the topic of dinner.  He shuffled to his feet and headed outside, pausing in the doorway to stare at the fire Jim was building.

 

"Hey, man, what's up with this?"

 

Jim shook his head.  "I still can't believe anything like that cat came into the clearing with the scent of woodsmoke hanging around…but it must not be strong enough anymore.  I'm gonna burn a fire for the next couple of days, build it back up again."

 

Blair eyed Jim, wondering how the older man was doing.  "Kinda warm for a fire, isn't it?"

 

Ellison whirled around. "Jesus, Sandburg! Do you have *any* idea how close you came to dying today?!  If I want to build a fucking fire, let me do it and do it in peace, okay?"

 

Blair backed up a little, hands upraised in a placating gesture.  "Whoa, man, chill.  I'm not the enemy here, soldier, remember?  You want to build a fire, go for it man."  He turned and went back into the darkness of the hut.  Screw dinner.  When Ellison had calmed down, then they could discuss it.

 

Jim watched the smaller man disappear inside and sighed to himself.  This afternoon had been a dizzying series of ups and downs; one more dip in either direction and he was likely to lose what remained of his control.  How could he have fallen so hard, so fast, for someone he barely knew? What was it about this man?  He'd nearly lost him to the jungle today, and shook at the thought of what that would have done.  Any tenuous grip that remained on his sanity right now would have been out the window.  He'd suffered nightmares for months, nearly a year, over losing Benny--and much as he'd cared for Benny, he hadn't felt the depth of emotion he felt for Blair Sandburg.

 

Darkness was beginning to overtake the jungle and the night sounds were replacing the day sounds.  He liked the night; it was richer, fuller, somehow, than the daytime.  The sounds were lush, wild, much more primal.  Shadows seemed to come alive and dance, drawing his vision to places not normally seen.

 

He hadn't enjoyed the nights before.  A year in the jungles, with only himself or some tribal warriors for company, had shown him how much he truly was a part of this.  Not just the jungle, but of the night itself.  He could lose himself in the shadows, blend in, become one.  Glints of light, mixing and moving, but never fully seen.  The dark was soothing to him, it quieted his soul, gave him an inner peace.  It was also raw and wild, which seemed to fit him. He felt primal…primitive…some days.  The desire had risen lately, nearly overpowering him, to give into those primal urges, to claim Blair as his and show him how they were destined to be mates.  The urge was running through him full-tilt right now, and it was all he could do to keep it shoved down to a manageable level.

 

Tonight, a shadow in his mind whispered.  Now, said another one.  He's yours, you need to take him.  Show him, claim him, *own* him.  Your mate, the other side of your soul, your salvation.

 

Jim pressed his hands to his head to quiet the shadow voices and opened his eyes.  Near dark.  Tonight.  Now.  Questions would be answered.  Promises made and kept. Destinies written and fulfilled.

 

He went inside the hut to ask Blair about dinner.

 

********************************

 

It was quiet out; the night music was just as beautiful, but it took time and exposure to hear it.  Jim hoped to have time to show Blair how beautiful night was here…how beautiful it sounded.

 

They'd had dinner, talked a little, cleaned up.  Now they were sharing the quiet at the campfire Jim had built up earlier in the day.  It had cooled off enough to make the fire a welcome thing, and the rain from earlier in the day had tapered off to a light mist that served only to lend a crackle and sizzle to the fire as tiny droplets hit the flames and spattered.

 

Blair watched Jim surreptitiously, wondering if the older man knew what he did--that it was to be, and would be.

 

Jim watched Blair surreptitiously, wondering if the younger man knew what he did--that it would be tonight, would be now.

 

In the flickering firelight their gazes caught and held.  Jim slowly raised a hand and combed his fingers through the riot of dark curls.  With his other hand he stroked his thumb across the full lower lip that pouted slightly.  "I want to kiss you,"  he whispered hoarsely, voice rough and heavy with desire.  "Can I?"  His thumb continued to stroke across that enticing lower lip, weaving its magic spell.

 

Blair nodded, not trusting his voice at that moment.  Jim leaned in closer, until his lips were just brushing the younger man's.  Jim heard a soft sigh and felt the warm breath on his own lips.  He pressed his mouth against the lushness waiting for him and felt it open under him, inviting him inward.

 

Jim stroked his tongue across Blair's, then began sweeping around the hot mouth, tasting every part of it.  Lips, teeth, tongue, palate.  He returned to the teasing tongue and caressed it lovingly with his own, felt the return of the caress as liquid heat glided across his.  He reluctantly left the sweet, moist cavern, and pulled back to stare into Blair's eyes.  They were dark, dilated...filled with desire, and love.  Desire for him.  Love for him.  Jim felt his heart contract; followed closely by his throbbing erection.  He couldn't remember ever wanting someone this badly--Blair was an intoxicant, and he needed another dose.

 

With a little groan of defeat he leaned in for another taste of those luscious lips.  Blair surprised him by wrapping his arms tightly around Jim's neck then and pressing his body close.  Jim could feel Blair's erect cock throbbing against him, and pulled the smaller man even closer.  They kissed, devouring each other as if their lives depended on it.  Heat flowed from one to the other, and back again.  Jim lowered his arms and his hands cupped soft asscheeks, massaging them gently.  Blair moaned against Jim's mouth, and nipped at the soft lips caressing his own.

 

The older man pulled away suddenly, and Blair whimpered at the loss.  Jim smiled, a seductive smile.  "We need to get out of these clothes, baby.  Help me?"

 

"Oh, yeah,"  Blair breathed.  He reached for the buttons on the worn camo pants with shaky fingers, gently caressing the hard length that was hidden beneath the cloth.  Jim moaned softly and pushed against Blair's hand.  Blair stroked him, then knelt down and mouthed him through the rough material.

 

Jim groaned, "Oh, Jesus, Blair...Oh, God..."  Blair pulled the pants down Jim's legs roughly, never completely losing hold of the hot, erect cock.  It sprang free from it's prison, bobbing up and down slightly.  Blair stared at it, mesmerized, then leaned in toward Jim, a wicked gleam in his eyes.  He took the cock in his mouth and began gently sucking, felt Jim's hips beginning to move.

 

Ellison's hands reached for the soft curls before he was aware of it, holding, stroking, caressing.  That warm mouth was teasing and coaxing him, sucking, licking, driving him rapidly toward spontaneous combustion with the heat it was generating.  He wove his fingers into those silky curls and tugged gently, pulling Blair up to him for another mind-melting kiss.

 

The world spun crazily out of focus for a long, long time as their mouths tasted, then devoured, the other.  Jim's senses were swimming in the largesse of input.  Blair tasted like the jungle:  rich, damp, warm.  He smelled like exotic spices and erotic dreams:  hot, spicy, salty, bitter.  His skin was rough with body hair, and when he pulled his shirt off Jim gave into the desire he'd had since finding the him, and stroked and ruffled his fingers through the generous mat sprinkled across Blair's chest and stomach.

 

And here was something else to grab at Jim's senses and tease him:  a glittering spot of gold nestled in among the hair.  A gold ring piercing through one pebbled, hardened nub; a beckoning flash of light drawing his mouth and urging him to taste.

 

Blair moaned when a warm mouth settled over his nipple; the moan turned to an outright groan when the tip of Jim's facile tongue slipped over and around and through the ring he wore there.  Teeth closed tenderly around the metal ring and tugged gently, pulling it against the tiny hard bud.  Sensation rocked through him, his body quivering and arching toward the mouth, his cock surging in his pants.

 

"Jim!  Nooo…too much…oh god…!"

 

The teeth tugged again, gently, and he was lost, his body spasming as his seed was released, warmth and wetness flowing outward.  He shook in Jim's arms, soft, hoarse cries carrying on the breeze, mixing with the other sounds of night.

 

Night music.  Primal urges calling.  Mates chosen.

 

Then he was being pressed backward, his body settled against the warm, rich earth and his pants unfastened and tugged down.  Obediently he lifted his hips, helping Jim get the troublesome clothing off, shivering when the air flowed over his damp, sticky genitals.

 

"Cold, baby?"  Jim smiled at him, eyes hot and burning, before lowering his head to warm him.  Blair arched and threw his head back, basking in the touch, the heat, the *rightness* of this.

 

"Not…now," he groaned as Jim's mouth and nose traveled over him, tasting, smelling, touching.  "More, Jim.  Pleeease--ahh!" he groaned again, arching harder toward the mouth that was teasing him.

 

Jim grinned against the warm skin of his lover.  This was where he wanted to be…to stay.  This was where life began, was, and ended.  He laid his head on Blair's thigh, feeling and hearing the thud of the younger man's pulse through the femoral artery.  He closed his eyes for a minute and let an image form in his mind of what the sound would *look* like; an erotic beat, two people moving together as one.  He shuddered and opened his eyes, then nosed his way through the thick, damp pubic curls, inhaling deeply the scent of his mate's seed.  The viscous, sticky fluid liberally coated everything and Jim's mouth watered to taste it, to feel it.  He ran a finger across Blair's cock, smiling when the flaccid organ twitched, then sucked his finger into his mouth, rolling the taste around over his tongue.  The earthy flavor filled him and he shuddered, lowering his head to lick and suck all remains off of Blair; needing to fill his senses completely with the taste of his mate.

 

When Blair's cock was clean and standing at full attention once again, and the younger man was writhing and quivering, Jim stood and shoved his pants the rest of the way down.  In  the firelight he appeared as some primitive, god-like being; hair haloed by the backdrop of flames, muscled body taut and shining with sweat.  He knelt between the spread legs of his lover and smiled at him, reaching for a small container he'd unobtrusively placed near the fire earlier in the evening.

 

Warm, clean-smelling oil, rendered and preserved by the Chopec.  He scooped some onto his fingers, coating them generously before drizzling some down teasingly over Blair's cock.  The younger man moaned at the light touch, shuddering as Jim parted his thighs and caressed the tiny pucker he found there.

 

"You're so beautiful, Blair," he whispered as his oil-slicked finger coated the small opening.  "You're as wild and primal as this jungle…meant to be a part of it…to be a part of me."  He slid his finger inside, breaching the muscle, causing a hard shudder to rip through the smaller man.  His eyes caught Blair's, held them as he moved the finger deeper into the warm body.  "Are you a part of me, Blair?  Are you mine?"

 

Dark blue eyes met blue eyes darkened with desire and love.  "I'm yours…" he whispered,  his hips moving, searching.  "And you're mine.  A part of me."

 

"Yes…" Jim pressed against the opening with a second slicked finger, feeling Blair's shudders to his core as both slid in now.  "My mate...my love...mine."

 

A third finger was pressed against the rosebud that was opening for him and Jim shuddered thinking about this heat surrounding him.  Blair's hips were pressing up against him, moving faster, and the younger man had his hand wrapped around his cock, stroking in time to Jim's finger thrusts.

 

"Do it," Blair whispered, his eyes hot blue coals burning into Jim's soul.  "Do it…love me…fuck me…claim me! I'm yours…make it for all time!"

 

The hunger swelled up in Jim, overpowering him, controlling him.  He shifted himself and pressed his angry, swollen cock to the budded entrance, felt it blossom and open fully for him when Blair pushed against him.  He slid in, low growls rising from his throat and echoing around the clearing. 

 

Tight and hot…so hot.  Searing heat, moving through him, around him, burning him.  He thrust into the willing body beneath him, then slid out and back in with long, smooth, slow strokes.  Hard thrust, long strokes.  Over and over, Blair's cries and groans rising to fill his ears, his head, his being.  Two hearts beating now as one; two souls joined to create one whole; two bodies separated, now melded as one.  He gasped and moaned as Blair rocked under him, meeting his thrusts, creating new ones.

 

Blair cried out when Jim entered him, knowing why everything before this had seemed not quite right, not fulfilling.  *This* was what he'd been waiting for; *who* he'd been waiting for.  Jim was his…his mate, his destiny.  Heat and light and sensation began swirling through him as he was first claimed and possessed, then the claimer and the possessor.  His body moved quickly in time with Jim's and the feelings rose up harder, hotter, more hungry than before, pushing them toward the abyss.

 

"Yours, Jim," he cried out, as one long, hot thrust seared into him, pushing him over.  "Love you!" he managed then as his own release bubbled out of him, scalding him with the heat of its intensity, the heat of his love for this man.

 

"Yes…yes, Blair…mine…and yours…together…" Jim grunted as Blair tightened around him in the throes of orgasm, grasping his cock tightly and drawing him further into his mate.  He felt the primal need race through him and thrust again harder, the growl being dredged up from his soul as his body spasmed, flooding Blair with his hot seed. 

 

His triumphant roar echoed around the clearing, moving on the wind through the jungle, fading into just another night sound, another predator claiming a mate for his own.

 

Night music.  Primal urges answered.  Mates claimed.  Destinies fulfilled as a panther embraced a hawk and took him for his own.

 

****************************

 

They made love a second time as the moon was waning and dawn was breaking.  Heat and passion gave way to gentle and tender the way the night gave over to the day.  Afterward they slept for a time, wrapped in each other, curled beside the fire that Jim had fed just before they lost themselves in each other once again.

 

Jim woke no more than a few hours past sunrise; a strange, insistent chirping filling his ears, pounding at his head.  He shifted Sandburg off of him so he could sit up and look around and wasn't very surprised to see Incacha crouched by a small clump of brush at the edge of the clearing.

 

Blair protested sleepily when he moved him all the way off; the younger man was still drowsy and Jim smoothed a hand down warm, rough skin soothing him with a whisper.

 

"Shhh, baby.  I'll be right back.  Sleep, Blair.  You're safe here."  He was sound asleep again before Jim had crossed the clearing.

 

*****************************

 

**Enqueri.  You have found what you were seeking.**

 

It wasn't a question, but Jim answered it as one anyway.  **Yes, he is my mate.**  He cast a quizzical glance at the shaman.  **How did you know, if I didn't even know?**

 

**Enqueri, the ways of the spirits and the guides are not always known to us, but there was a reason you were left here with us in the jungles; a reason that your leaders and chiefs have not returned yet to claim you.  There is also a reason that that young man was led to you, for you to find.**  The shaman shook his head, holding a hand up to forestall Jim's questions.  **I do not know what these reasons are, but it is obvious that you are meant for one another, meant to be together.  The gods and spirits have favored you mightily to give you such a mate and reveal him so easily.  Beware though, my friend, for the gifts of the gods are not meant to be easy things; what was easily claimed may prove difficult to hold on to.**

 

The wise brown eyes bored into his, staring into his soul.  Jim always felt a little uneasy when Incacha stared at him like this; it make him uncomfortable, he felt more than naked; he felt exposed.

 

**Thank you for the words, my friend.  I will listen and try to heed them.**

 

**One more thing,** Incacha said quietly.  **You must mark him as yours, Enqueri.  Put your mark on him,** the shaman pointed to the tattoo-like mark that Jim wore above his left nipple, **and give him his own.  The two entwined together will proclaim him as your mate, marked as yours.  Do this soon, my friend, so you have the power and the protection of the gods, lest you be separated.**

 

Jim nodded solemnly at the shaman. **Thank you, my friend, for taking time to see me for this.**

 

Incacha smiled at him.  **To see you look so peaceful, so calm, I would do much, much more than the little I have.**

 

****************************

 

Blair was stirring even as he crossed the clearing again.  Jim smiled when those beautiful, brilliantly blue eyes opened and looked him, so full of radiance, of love, he felt his breath catch in his chest.

 

"You must be the most exotic creature on earth," he said, before he could stop the words, blushing when he realized what he'd said.

 

Blair grinned at him.  "I sure felt like it last night.  C'mere."  He patted the ground next to himself and Jim dropped to sit, a lazy, graceful movement.  The younger man studied him for a moment, then leaned in to kiss him, the full, lush mouth warm against Jim's.  Their mouths tasted and explored for long, sweet minutes, then Blair drew away, smoothing his fingers over Jim's face, casually touching the warm planes.

 

Jim gathered him into his arms, mindful of the fact that the sun was coming up hot and they were both still naked, no protection from the rays.  He stroked silky curls that were a little damp and sticky from the moisture in the air and night's exertions.

 

"I love you, Blair.  I've never said that to anyone, before…not sure I've ever felt it before.  But you have a power…a power over me…that I can't deny.  I don't want to deny."

 

"I feel it too," Blair nodded, his fingers entwining with Jim's own.  "I love you…I think I've always loved you.  I've spent most all of my life *knowing* I had to come down here…now.  It used to be like, 'oh, yeah, I have to go to Peru someday', but then the urge became almost a compulsion…and then I found out that the university was sponsoring a trip, and…"  the younger man trailed off, looking up and slightly back to look at his lover.  "I just *had* to be here," he finished softly.  "There was no choice in the matter."

 

"I'm glad," Jim returned just as softly, his fingers tightening in the younger man's curls.  "I've had…feelings, I guess…for a while now, as well. I sensed your coming, the day we met." He grinned self-deprecatingly at Blair's raised eyebrow.  "Yeah, I don't usually get into the mystical and whatnot, but it was almost like…something was off-kilter.  I don't know how else to describe it. I sensed it, and the village Shaman and the healer noticed it as well. Almost like a disturbance in the air. Weird, huh."

 

Blair shook his head and leaned in to nuzzle at the smooth skin of Jim's chest, teasing his nose gently over the sensitive nubs of the older man's breasts.  "I don't think so at all," he whispered, just before lapping at the hard little peaks.  "Stranger things have been happened, y'know."  Then he gave up talking, concentrating instead on wringing cry after moan after groan out of the older man as he licked over and around the tiny little bud.  He gently pushed Jim backward, following the larger body to straddle him on all fours, his mouth still working the older man's nipples.  A gentle scoring with his teeth had Ellison crying aloud and arching toward the hungry mouth that was tormenting him so sweetly.  Blair looked up and grinned.  "You like that."  It was a statement, not a question.

 

"V..very much," Jim groaned, his groan turning to a keening cry when Blair bit down a little harder, then suckled strongly, tongue weaving and laving over the now-throbbing peak.

 

"You taste soooo good," Blair purred, his mouth moving now, licking and tasting the valley between the hard pecs, teeth scraping gently over the tanned, muscled  flesh.  "I could feast on you forever, lover."

 

"Sounds g..good to me." Ellison shuddered as the hot sucking mouth moved to claim his other nipple.  "Ohhhh, god, baby…suck me. Suck my tit, Blair…" he shuddered again when Blair did just that, sucking the erect, pulsing bit of flesh into his mouth and holding it there while he swirled his tongue round and round it.

 

"Love you, Jim," the soft voice of his lover moaned from around his nipple.  Then the mouth was moving, moving on to taste the rest of him. A wet tongue, warm and slick, stroked over his chest, moving downward over his ribs, then danced across his abdomen.  His belly was tasted and explored; his navel was treated to a thorough bathing and tickling by the facile tongue that was bent on learning every inch of him.

 

"Oh, god," he moaned when Blair first poked his tongue into his sensitive belly-button, wriggling it around there, stroking gently in and out. At first it tickled, then became erotic as he realized what his young lover was doing; mimicking fucking with those slick, shallow little motions.  He shuddered hard, his body taut with desire, streaming with sweat and saliva.  "Please…" he begged, not sure what he was begging for. More? Surcease? Both?  He shook his head and groaned louder when Blair nipped lightly at the rim of his navel, then traced with his tongue the line of dark-blond hair that trailed from there to his pubic bush.

 

"Please what, lover? Please more? Like this?" Blair's wickedly talented tongue teased lightly over the crown of his drooling shaft, lapping up the drops of liquid that were gathering there.  Jim looked down at the same time Blair looked up at him, one near-translucent drop of moisture caught on his lip.  The younger man extended his tongue and licked the drop up before it fell and Jim felt his groin tighten just by watching that erotic moment.  "Or maybe like this," Sandburg continued, his mouth moving now over the hard, throbbing shaft of Jim's cock.  He continued downward, mouthing and licking the straining organ, following it to the root then taking each of the heavy, tight balls into his mouth, sucking and massaging them.

 

"God, that's good," the older man managed to groan, splaying his legs open wide as his lover shifted between them, sucking and licking at his balls.  He opened his legs further when Blair nudged at his thighs, then pulled his breath in in a huge sucking gasp when he felt that incredible tongue brush over his opening.  "Ohmygod…" was the only thing he could say that made any sense. Blair's mouth was warm, wet, intensely pleasurable.  No one had ever rimmed him before. He'd done it, many times, but no one else had ever tasted him this intimately.  He shuddered, hard, then reached downward to hold himself open for Blair, for the questing tongue that was quickly reducing him to nothing but a molten puddle of  goo.

 

Blair shivered when he realized that Jim was holding himself open for him.  He clasped his hands over his lover's, then tickled his tongue gently around the ridged skin of Jim's opening.  He probed gently with the tip of his tongue, felt the muscle resist, and pushed a little harder.  The tiny rosette bloomed for him, just a little, revealing the first taste of this most intimate part of his lover's body.  He worked more saliva up in his mouth and ran his tongue over and over the small pucker, making love to Jim gently, sensing from the moans rising up and the jerking motions the hard body was making that this was the first time anyone had tasted him here.  He shook his head and placed a hard, sucking kiss over the puckered pink hole, then pushed his tongue in again, smiling when the muscle relaxed and let him in further.  A loud, deep groan echoed around the clearing as the ring of muscle was breached slickly, and Jim shuddered hard beneath him.  Blair drew back in concern, frowning up at the older man.

 

"You okay, lover?"

 

"God…y..yes, I…yeah… Jesus Christ, Blair…" Jim was panting hard, his whole body straining. "Please…don't stop, baby…anything, just don't stop…"

 

Blair smiled and nipped lightly at the soft skin on the inside of Jim's thigh, then turned his attention back to the exposed, throbbing opening.  He leaned down and licked, slowly and sensuously, from the shadowy area beneath Jim's balls to the end of his crease; he bit the fleshy part of the asscheek there, then licked back, pausing to swirl his tongue over and around the somewhat loosened pucker.  "You're beautiful, Jim," he muttered hoarsely as he paused again to look at his lover.  He rubbed a thumb gently over the small hole and felt Jim's shiver clear into his soul.  "Have you ever…?"  He raised his eyes to meet the older man's.

 

"Yes," he responded breathlessly, "a few times.  Not often, but I'm not a virgin."

 

"Will you let me?"  Blair's breath caressed the straining cock and balls, sent shivers flowing through Ellison's body.

 

"Yesssss."  It was a hoarse whisper, more of a hiss than a word, but Blair felt his body contract from hearing it.  "We belong together," Jim continued.  "Me into you, you into me. Do it, baby. Love me."

 

Blair groaned and reached for the oil that still sitting in its little pot near the fire.  It was warm, but not overly so. He dipped his fingers into it and smoothed them over Jim's opening, teasing at it with the tip of one finger, then nudging at it with a knuckle.  "You're tight,"  he muttered as he opened the little rose with the end of his index finger.  "I don't want to hurt you."

 

Jim moaned when the first finger gained entry; his belly tightened as his body spasmed, clenching around the invader.  "A little…little pain doesn't…bother me," he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut tight as Blair slowly thrust the finger back and forth.  God, it felt good!  He opened his eyes back up. "I want you, Blair.  Make love to me."

 

"Easy, big guy.  A little pain is one thing; unopened pain is something else."  Blair shivered with the memory of the one time he'd pressed Curtis into taking him without prepping him first.  His mouth slid over the hot skin of Jim's thigh as he slowly moved his finger in and out, feeling the large body relaxing around him.  He bit Jim just next to his knee as he slid a second finger in, then sucked hard on the bite, giving the older man a focus as he stretched him a little further.  Jim wriggled beneath him, moving his hips slowly, undulating in time with Blair's fingers, moaning as the hot mouth tasted and teased him further.  Blair added a third finger, fucking them a little faster into the body that was moving and shifting beneath his.  "Bear down, lover," he whispered against the hot skin.  "Let's see how ready you are."

 

Jim grunted and pushed and Blair felt the hot slick channel relax and open for him.  He thrust gently several times with his fingers, then slid them out, his eyes hot when they met Jim's.  "Oh yeah, lover…you're ready for me, aren't you?"  He reached for the oil again, coating himself generously, drizzling more over the loosened, open pucker.

 

"Yesss," Jim moaned, his eyes hot and wild. "Want you, Blair. Want you inside me."

 

"I'm coming, lover. Take it easy."  Blair slid himself up the larger body, then grasped both of Jim's hands and pinned them over his head as his mouth found and took the older man's.  He licked across warm, moist lips, then parted them with his tongue, tasting the interior of his lover.  Jim's mouth was sweet and hot, his tongue slick as he rubbed it sensuously against Blair's.  They played together, chasing and teasing, from one's mouth to the other's, for long, hot minutes, their bodies straining together.  Blair left Jim's mouth and licked and kissed over to his ear where he rimmed the edge as he whispered, "I want you, Jim Ellison. I'm going to take you--gonna love you until you don't remember anything or anyone but me."  Then he gently bit the soft skin just below Jim's ear, feeling as much as hearing the older man's groaning answer.

 

Jim raised his legs and hooked them over Blair's shoulders as the smaller man knelt between them, carefully pressing himself against the rosy little hole.  He pushed slowly and felt his cockhead breach the muscle at the same time a huge shudder ripped through Ellison.  He heard the groan, felt it deep inside him, and held still, waiting for his lover to adjust to him.  When the tense body surrounding him relaxed fractionally he pushed a little further, then stilled, waiting again for Jim to adjust.  He could feel the hot, tight tunnel throbbing around him, holding him close.  Jim opened his eyes and Blair looked into the hot, dark depths of blue and found the other part of his soul there, staring back at him. He shuddered and pressed the rest of the way in, hearing Jim's groans of desire and pleasure and a little pain ringing in his ears, but needing to be fully inside, pressed as close as possible to this man, his lover, his mate.

 

Time stopped for them, outside of their bodies and their loving.  Jim could feel each slick movement of Blair within him; could feel the heat and throbbing pulse of his lover's cock as it slid back into his tight sheath.  He tightened himself around the smaller man's cock and smiled ferally when the his lover groaned his pleasure.  His own cock throbbed harshly in time to the pounding of his heart and he found himself stroking in rhythm with Blair's thrusts.  There was no past or future, nor even really a present--there was only *right* *now*, this moment as one man pounded into another, their loving fierce and hot and complete.

 

"Mine," Blair growled, bending his head to nip at soft lips.  "Say it, Jim.  Say who you belong to."

 

"Yours, Blair. I belong to you…your heart, your soul.  Ohhhh, god…" he groaned loudly when Blair thrust hard into him, forcing another cry of pleasure from him.

 

"That's right," the younger man hissed fiercely.  "You're mine just as I'm yours. Mates, Jim…I've waited my whole life for you…found you…claimed you.  Forever, lover.  We belong to each other for as long as time exists."  He thrust harder and faster, feeling the punishing force of his strokes, hearing Jim's groans and cries of welcome as he moved within him.

 

"Do it, Blair," Jim hissed in return, pushing himself upward to meet those thrusts. "Fuck me…claim me…I made you mine last night; do it now, baby, make me yours."

 

"Yes…yes…" the student panted, his whole body beginning to throb as his need for release increased.  He wanted to come deep inside this hot, straining body; wanted to mark Jim, mark his territory.  He thrust over and over, moving hard and faster, pounding into his lover.  Jim kept his pace with his hand on his cock, matching Blair stroke for stroke.  He closed his eyes as the heat moved over him, panting harshly when he felt his seed rising within him.  He tightened his hand on his cock and jacked faster, his body beginning to shudder.

 

"B..Blair…n..now, baby…now…" he threw his head back and screamed, his cock pulsing in his hand as his seed arced upward to spatter on his chest, oozing over his hand.  His body spasmed tightly around the cock that was invading him, loving him, fucking him, and he squeezed hard, milking it as he milked himself.  He groaned long and low when he felt the hot fluid pouring into him in heated bursts as Blair exploded within him, marking him.

 

"Yeah, that's it…" the younger man panted, thrusting and holding, thrusting and holding, pushing as deep inside as he could, feeling his cream coating the hot channel he was moving in.  "God, I love you, Jim," he groaned as he gave one last, mighty thrust before collapsing forward onto the man beneath him.

 

Shaking arms came up to cradle him close, holding him against the heaving body. "I love you," a hoarse voice murmured into his ear as warm lips caresses the sensitive skin there.  "Mine, Blair. I love you more than life itself."

 

***************************

 

They laid there for a time, breathing still hard and fast as their bodies slowly cooled and relaxed.  Jim rolled Blair off him, finally, and stood up, holding a hand down to the younger man.  "We need to get out of the sun if we're gonna stay naked. The sun's too strong right now to stay out in it like this."  He gestured with a grin and Blair grinned back.

 

"I need to wash up," the younger man told him with a grimace as they walked back to the small hut.  "I'm like, so gross, man.  No offense," he grinned.  "But bodily fluids aside, I'm sweaty, and while I can handle the other,  I hate that."

 

Jim threw his head back and laughed.  "You can handle being streaked and sticky from cum, but not from sweat?"

 

Blair smiled. "Hey, we all pick what we're comfortable with, man. I don't mind the former; I hate the latter.  Deal with it."

 

Ellison shook his head. "You want to wash up here, or you want to go swimming?"

 

Smoky-blue eyes brightened in anticipation. "Swimming sounds really cool, man.  Unless we're talking about some river with alligators and such as swimming partners."  The eyes darkened, until Jim realized that Blair was teasing.

 

"Well, I *wasn't*, but if that's what you want--"

 

"No way, man. You got a nice, safe swimming hole somewhere, bring it on. Otherwise I'll do the sponge-bath thing."

 

"Chicken-shit."

 

"Without a doubt, lover.   I have *no* desire to end out my life as a reptilian entrée. I came entirely too close too recently."

 

Jim shuddered with the memory and pulled his pants on.  "I agree.  Yeah, I got a swimming hole not far from here." He eyed his younger lover speculatively.  "You up for a little bit of a hike?"

 

"What's a little bit mean?"

 

"Less than a mile. Not sure exactly how far."

 

"No problem, man." Blair pulled his own jeans on, then tugged his T-shirt down over his head.  His eyes were bright when he looked at Jim.  "I meant it, you know. As long as time exists."

 

Blue eyes met his. "I know," Jim answered hoarsely. "I feel the same way."  How in the hell he was going to find the strength to take this man back to his own camp, and leave him there… Shit he might as well just shoot himself now and get it over with.  He frowned, then looked back up at Blair when a gentle hand settled on his arm.

 

"I know, man," was the soft comment.  "I know where you are, and I'm there with you, lover.  I don't want to go, either."

 

Jim pulled the smaller body tight against his. "I don't know if I *can*," he said gruffly.  "I know I have to, but god help me, Blair, I don't know if I'll be able to let you go.  I don't have any idea when--or if!--I'll be discovered down here…or when I'll get a chance to contact you, once I'm  home…and, god, baby…I'm a fucking *Captain* in the fucking United States Army.  It's what I've always wanted…what I've always done, Blair.  But that isn't compatible with us…I've never had a relationship with another man where I cared really if I could be seen with him…but now…Jesus."  He shook, feeling the smaller body within his arms shaking with him.

 

"I know, Jim," the quiet voice soothed in his ear. "I know, lover.  It's okay…we'll figure something out.  Take it easy, Jim…shhhh…" Blair shifted his arms so that he was the one holding, and began to sway gently, rocking them, trying to calm the bigger man somewhat.

 

After some time of just standing there, swaying and rocking, Jim loosened Blair's grip on him and stepped back a pace.  "I'm sorry," he muttered, running a hand over his face in embarrassment.  "I didn't mean to lose it like that."

 

"It's okay, man.  I'm hanging on the edge myself right now." He shot a look at  Ellison.  "It would be awfully easy to forget all outside commitments, just kind of stay here in this private little place…but that's not me…and I know that's not you. You don't get to be a captain by shirking your duties."  He reached a hand out to rub at the tense muscle of Jim's arm.  "I don't think we could live with ourselves if we gave up everything that makes us *us* just to be together. Could we?" Dark blue eyes, earnest and searching, met Jim's and the older man shook his head and gave a half-smile.

 

"No, we couldn't."  He shook his head again, then gave Blair a real, if rather sad, smile. "Still want to go swimming?"

 

"Yeah, I do." The student searched Jim's eyes for a minute long, then he smiled as well.  "Let's go before some reptile finds your swimming hole. With my luck, it'd happen today."

 

"Not in *my* swimming hole."

 

"Uh-huh."

 

Two pairs of blue eyes met, both acknowledging that the topic wasn't closed yet, merely being pushed back a little until they were better able to deal with it.  Just taking a breather.

 

***************************

 

"Hey, man…not bad."  Blair eyed the small, quiet pool and the tiny waterfall that fed it and grinned.  "A natural shower, even. Not too shabby, Jim."

 

The older man laughed as he peeled off his clothes, making a face at the stickiness in his groin.  "I like to offer my guests deluxe accommodations, Sandburg."

 

"So how come I didn't get to see this place before today?"

 

"What, you think you were ready for a trek through the jungle before today?"  The bigger man leveled a glance at his lover and grinned.  "Or have you been holding out on me about those ribs?"  To his surprise Blair actually blushed a little, then looked down. He reached a gentle hand out to grasp the younger man's chin and tilted it upward.  "Blair? It's okay, baby. I understand."

 

"I wasn't really holding out, Jim," he hastened to say, shivering a little. "I just…maybe made them seem a little worse than they were…" Blair sighed.  "I just wanted a little more time with you, man. I *knew* there was something between us…and I knew it wasn't going to happen until the moment was right. And I couldn't stand the thought of leaving before it had the chance."

 

Ellison pulled the young man into his arms, squeezing him.  "I *know*, baby,"  he breathed.  "I didn't want you to go either, so I just let it be…" he nuzzled Blair's ear, then licked it gently, running his tongue over the edge.  A small shiver of a different sort told him that this was a good spot for his lover.  He smiled and dipped the tip of his tongue into the small canal, moving it in and out suggestively.  Blair shivered again, harder this time, and he felt hardness and heat against his leg.  "You like that, don't you? Insatiable little thing, aren't you?"  Jim bit down on the earlobe, tugging gently at the silver hoops there, then reached down to squeeze the cock that was throbbing against his leg.  He smiled into Blair's hot eyes and moved back to finish taking his clothes off.

 

Blair watched him for a minute, then began pushing his own pants down. "Cocktease," he grinned at the older man. "Get me all hot and bothered and then don't deliver."

 

"Mouthy little shit, aren't you?"  Ellison grinned back.  "Who's to say I'm not gonna take care of that?" he gestured toward the erection standing out proudly from Blair's naked body.

 

"Well then why'd you move away?"

 

"So I could get my pants off," Jim grunted as he pushed the tight fitting camos the rest of the way down, exposing his own straining hard-on to Blair's eyes.  "And since you're a cocktease yourself, you'd best stop flinging stones."

 

The smaller man gaped indignantly. "*I'm* a cocktease? How do you figure?"

 

Jim grinned. "You're standing there breathing, aren't you?"

 

Blair smirked. "Yeah, right, man. As if my breathing is teasing you."  He bent down to pick up his jeans and got grabbed from behind and swivled around abruptly.

 

"Well *aside* from breathing, it's moves like that  that get you branded 'cocktease', Sandburg.  Bending over, flaunting this luscious ass," large hands cupped his cheeks and squeezed and Blair moaned and pushed back against them.  "And then there's these…" The hands smoothed up his back and around to tug and pinch gently at half-hardened nipples.  "These little tits of yours are just begging to be sucked and licked, baby.  Oh yeah, you *like* that, don't you?"  Jim grinned as Blair sighed and shuddered when he tugged again on the nipple ring.  "Handy, this." He fingered the ring gently, smiling heatedly when Blair's breathy moans grew louder.  "Come on, baby. Let's get in the water."  He took the younger man's hand and led him into the pool, to stand beneath the waterfall.

 

They stood under the cool spill of water, mouths fused together, generating kilowatts of heat.  Tongues tangled and mated, teasing the other with soft, slick caresses.  Their hands stroked and played and tickled and pinched.  Their cocks rode the other's belly as they moved against each other, rubbing with sensual, rapid motions. Juices oozed from the hot,  hardened cocks and combined with the water flowing over them to ease the way, enhance the glide.  Jim cupped Blair's ass and squeezed, his fingers dipping sweetly into the shadowy crease between cheeks and stroking over the tender, pulsing opening there.  Blair leaned his head in and bit gently at the erect, aching nubs jutting from Ellison's chest.  He worried each bud with his teeth, then soothed with his tongue, until the older man was groaning loudly, rubbing more frantically against him.  They joined themselves at the mouth again, tasting, licking and nipping as their bodies shuddered together, juices mixing on their stomachs, running together, creating a shower of passion to be washed away by the natural shower flowing over them.

 

Afterward they swam lazily, reconnecting every so often to kiss, or stroke or caress. Not to arouse, but to soothe, to comfort.  Jim gathered Blair into his arms and floated them on their backs, with Blair pressed against his chest.  He stroked the younger man's chest, loving the silky hair that clung wetly to his fingers.  Blair leaned his head back, sighing contentedly at the gentle caresses, smiling when Jim's partially-erect organ nudged him.

 

"Again?"

 

"I doubt it," Blair could hear the smile in Jim's voice.  "Its just that my cock doesn't always know when it's licked."

 

"It knew well enough last night."  The younger man couldn't stop the comment and that earned him a quick squeeze against sensitive nipples. "Ow!"

 

"That'll teach you, Mr. Smart-mouth."

 

"Don't count on it." Blair shifted slightly so that his legs draped to either side of Jim's, giving the older man's swelling dick room to rub.  He felt his own tingling and reached a hand down to stroke gently.

 

"Mmmm.  Maybe I'll have to beat you; teach you some respect for your elders."  Jim paused, then continued, "How old are you, anyway?"

 

Blair sighed mentally.  "How old do you think I am?" he asked neutrally, hoping Jim would guess like twenty-five.  No such luck.  He felt his lover stiffen under him, his arms tightening.

 

"Just tell me you're legal, Sandburg. Jesus Christ, please tell me I haven't been--" he broke off, unable to finish the sentence.

 

"I'm legal, Jim." The words were quiet, offered seriously and sincerely.  "I turned twenty last month, just before coming down here."

 

"Oh, god, Blair." The voice was hoarse in his ear.  "I'll…I'll be thirty-two next month, baby."  The arms tightened around him again. "That's a hell of an age difference, as young as you are.  Christ."

 

"Jim!"  Blair shifted and turned in his lover's arms, pinned his eyes with his own.  "Stop it, okay? I'm legal, I'm an adult, and I know what I want.  I want you. I don't care if you're 32, or 42, or 72! I *love* you, man!"

 

Jim pulled him close and buried his face in wet curls that smelled like Sandburg.  Spicy, fresh, clean, exotic.  "I love you, too," he muttered.  "But god, you're so young…*so* young…"

 

"You didn't think I was so young when I was fucking you senseless this morning," Blair retorted, his eyes blazing hot.  "Or last night when you were taking me with equal enthusiasm.  Come on, Jim--what's up here?"

 

"I didn't know," Ellison responded hoarsely, not meeting Blair's eyes. "I didn't know, then."

 

"Would it have made a difference? Does it *really*, now? Jim…we're *meant* to be, man. Soul-mates, bonded together.  C'mon…talk to me."

 

Ellison took a deep breath and raised his head to look into his lover's eyes.  "It's a surprise,"  he said quietly.  "You act so much…older, I guess…it's a shock to hear it for real."

 

"I've heard that before," Blair muttered.

 

"I'm sure.  And you have…experience…for someone so young…" Jim's face flushed and he averted his eyes again.  "I can't believe I just said that," he muttered. "Talk about judgmental.  I'm sorry, Blair."

 

"No, it's okay…but I'm curious. Do you  mean personal, sexual, what?"

 

"All of it, I guess. You seem awfully sure of yourself for…y'know.  Like you've been around a while longer."

 

"How old did you think I was? Assuming you really gave it any thought."

 

"I don't know…mid-20s, I guess.  I hadn't really thought about it. I mean, I was calling you 'kid' and all…but I knew you were younger than me…and well, I mean you are…" Jim sighed.

 

Blair smiled.  "Well…I do have a lot of experience, as far as life goes, I guess. Mom moved us around a lot…I've lived in a *lot* of places, both here and abroad.  I started college when I was 16, only part-time then, 'cause I was still finishing up high school stuff, but I was full time that next semester…and I took full loads so I could take as much as possible…" Sandburg paused a moment, then leaned down to brush Jim's mouth with his.  "I've only had one male lover, besides you, I mean…and not many women, but I was exclusive with Curtis, and we were together for eight months--"

 

"In eight months you learned--Jesus, Sandburg!"  Jim's mind reeled thinking about the accomplished, seductive young man he'd had last night and who'd had him today.

 

The dark blue eyes twinkled at him. "I don't have many 'forbidden zones'," he teased, then sobered.  "Seriously, there isn't much that I won't try, at least once, and Curtis took that and ran with it.  'Uninhibited', he called me." Blair shrugged. "Whatever, it just means that I like sex…and once I figured out what I was doing, I kind of took to it like a duck to water."

 

"*I'll* say," was the quiet mutter. Sandburg's grin grew wider.

 

"I'll take that as the compliment I'm sure it was intended to be."

 

Jim was quiet then and Blair turned back over in his arms, holding those arms close around him, letting him be pulled along in the gentle drift around the small pool.  He closed his eyes and let himself relax, knowing Jim wouldn't let him fall or drown.  He was nearly asleep when a low, warm voice rumbled in his ear, "What's one of your forbidden zones?"

 

He started awake, his mind buzzing. "Huh?"

 

"You said you don't have many forbidden zones. What would be one?"

 

"Oh." He considered the question. "Well…pain. I mean *pain* pain. Y'know? I like bites and pinches…I don't mind spankings--I think." He wiggled his ass against Jim and felt the other man's cock respond.  "But I'm not into the heavy shit, y'know? It doesn't sound like much fun.  I mean, I suppose it might be…but it doesn't appeal to me."

 

"What about this?" Jim tugged gently on the ring through Blair's nipple that so fascinated him.

 

"Oh, well, yeah, that hurt to do it…but that's a whole different kind of pain.  And it wasn't something I was going to do over and over again." He tilted his head and smiled at the older man.  "I don't know how to explain it, man.  I'm just not into that."

 

"Okay. What else?"

 

"What else, what?"

 

"What else do you like…or what else is a forbidden zone?"  Jim smiled. "You're uninhibited, it's good to know what my parameters are."

 

Blair shivered at the heat in his lover's voice and wiggled harder against the cock that was poking him again.  His voice was lower, huskier, when he replied.  "I don't get the idea of people who combine sex and body waste. I mean, I suppose I can see golden showers…maybe…but the rest of it…" his voice trailed off, and he shuddered.  He felt an answering shudder beneath him. "I take it we're in accordance with that?" he asked dryly.

 

"Oh, yeah."

 

Blair smiled at Jim's heartfelt answer.  "How 'bout you, lover? What are some of your parameters?"

 

Jim felt his stomach twitch at the way Blair stressed 'parameters'.  "Well…I'm not into pain, either. Not heavy-duty, anyway," he teased, pinching Blair's butt and laughing when the younger man yelped and squirmed against him.  "I do like to play in bed--y'know, teasing and laughing. Sex should be fun."

 

"Well, *duh*," Blair said. "What else would it be?"

 

"You'd be surprised, baby. There's people out there who…well, shit."  Jim paused for a minute.  "When I say I like to play and that it should be fun, I don't mean that I don't take it seriously. But there's some people who are way too hung up on being serious in bed. That's no fun.  Um…lessee.  Necrophilia."

 

Blair snickered. "Into, or against?"

 

That earned him another pinch and a tickle while Jim sputtered, then laughed. "Against, you little shit!"

 

"I know…" the younger man sputtered himself, trying not to drown while they were both laughing so hard.  "Seriously, though.  Are there any definite zones to stay away from, that we haven't covered? Or anything you like in particular, that I should know about?"

 

Jim smiled. "We seem to be pretty compatible as far as dislikes, anyway…and as far as likes go…well, I wouldn't be averse to spanking…I like sex toys on occasion…"

 

"And you like be rimmed," the younger man added very quietly, remembering earlier in the morning.  He felt a definite stirring against his bottom as Jim processed the memory as well.

 

"God, *yes*," the older man breathed.  "Damn, that was…" he shuddered and Blair grinned.

 

"Well, lets see about compatibility here.  *I* like blow jobs…rimming…sex toys on occasion, too…" the younger man smiled when Jim's cock throbbed harder against him, and wiggled so that it was nudging his opening.  "Guess we're pretty compatible," he said huskily.

 

"You're sure you're only twenty? You seem to know a lot about sex for such a stripling." Jim's voice was breathless now, the pitch a lot lower.

 

"Stripling, huh?"  Blair pushed back gently, moaning softly when the hard cock breached him, gaining entrance.  "I…read a lot…" he panted, his body throbbing.

 

"God, Blair…" it was more of a moan than actual words, but Blair got the message.

 

He turned very slowly, shifting, to face the older man, wrapping his legs tightly around Jim's waist.  Once they'd both gotten balance, Blair began rocking, pulling them together, slowly pushing his lover's cock deeper into his body.  Jim leaned in and softly covered the younger man's mouth with his own, tasting and exploring  that warm haven over and over again.  He moaned softly when Blair tightened his muscles and shifted so that they fit together even better.  Their bodies moved languidly, a slow, easy rhythm that didn't demand too much, just felt good.  Arms held each other close as they drifted in the water, loving one another gently, bodies joined as fully and completely as they could manage.

 

Urgency built in them eventually, and Jim carried Blair, still joined, to the shore of the small pond where he laid him down and thrust repeatedly into him, crying out loud as the younger man tightened around him.  "Come for me," he whispered into Blair's ear, then thrust in hard and deep, touching his cock against the small gland hidden inside his lover, setting off a chain-reaction that began with a shudder and ended with a liquid fire-storm raining upon both of them.

 

He shook and shuddered through his own climax, triggered as it was by the incredible pleasure of being inside the sensuous body combined with the intense sensations of being clutched and squeezed by that body in the throes of orgasm.

 

Afterward they lay together, their bodies still partially entwined.  Both were quiet and thoughtful, but Jim knew he needed to introduce this subject if it were going to be taken care of today.  And he felt as if he didn't have much time to wait. Things had to be taken care of *now*.

 

"We had a visitor this morning," he began awkwardly, not sure what exactly to say.  Yes, he loved this man. He was loved by the same man.  But loving and agreeing to being marked for life? That might take longer.  Then his eyes fell to the face staring up at him.

 

"A visitor."  Blair repeated the words, his eyes watching Jim's.  "Who?"

 

"A--friend," Jim said cautiously.  "The shaman of the Chopec, actually."

 

"I see.  And what did your friend want?"  The younger man wasn't sure what Jim was trying to get at, but he was willing to give him some space to work it out.

 

"He congratulated me--us--on finding each other.  Recognized that we're mates…"  He trailed off and found himself tracing a circular pattern on the warm skin just above Blair's left nipple.  The smaller man shivered and the nipple tightened in reaction. Jim smiled and leaned down to kiss the small puckered bud.  "Seems you have quite a trigger there, Junior."

 

Blair moaned quietly, and shivered again. "You," he managed.  "I've never been like *this* before."

 

Jim gave the golden ring there a tiny tug, then released his lover. "Sorry," he apologized with smiling eyes.  "You're almost too sexy for your own good, you know? I'd keep you here forever, if I could. Naked, warm, your eyes lit up with desire and love for me, your body ready and willing."

 

"I'd *stay* like this forever, if I could. If we could." The smoky-blue depths grew darker with emotion.  "I'd take you inside me always, forever, if I could.  I don't ever want space between us, Jim. It's going to kill me to go back to my camp."

 

Now was as good a time as any; both of them were already feeling the separation keenly and they weren't even there yet. Maybe this would help them--both of them.

 

"I want to…bond with you, Blair. Take you as my bond-mate, in the Chopec way, using their ceremony."

 

Blair raised his eyes to meet Jim's, a light sheen of moisture filming them.  "A bonding ceremony?" he repeated, hoarsely.  "When? How? I thought--"  He couldn't finish the thought; he wasn't even sure it was a complete thought. His brain had shut off, obviously.

 

"The shaman told me that gifts from the gods are never easy things and that what was easily claimed may be difficult to hold on to. I'm not sure I understand everything he says to me, most of the time I *know* I don't. But I do know that he was giving me--us--a warning. He said that if we bonded, if you wore my symbol, then it would make it easier on us." He searched Blair's face, his eyes.  "Would you--would you do that, Blair? Bond with me, be my mate for life?"

 

"I already consider us mates for life," the younger man began in a raw voice, "but yeah, I'll wear your symbol, Jim."

 

"Good," Ellison replied, his own voice a little hoarse.  He again smoothed his fingers over the skin on his lover's chest, then gave him a tiny smile.  "We might have to…shave a little patch here," he murmured quietly.  "You're a hairy little thing."

 

Blair scrambled into a sitting position, surprise written all over his face.  "Shave? Little?" He couldn't believe it, but his voice actually squeaked a little before he regained control over it. "Whadaya mean, 'shave'…and in what sense, exactly, did you mean 'little'?"

 

Jim shifted until he was sitting as well, and held out his hands placatingly.  "For the mark, baby. Just a little spot right above your nipple. Like here." He gestured to his own scar, held his breath when Blair reached out and traced around it.

 

"Yeah," the younger man whispered. "We can do that." He looked up at Jim. "You can do this? Mark me?" His fingers traced over the black lines again, almost caressing.

 

"Yeah," was the breathless reply. When Jim looked up he saw desire swimming in those blue eyes staring at him; knew his own reflected the same.  "God, *again*? Sandburg, what the hell are you doing to me?"

 

"I don't know, lover, but you're having the same effect on *me*. " Blair leaned in for a kiss, stealing both their breaths away with his efforts.  He winced a little though when he sat back down and Jim frowned.

 

"We're gonna rest a little while, no matter how bad we want it, baby. Need to give our bodies a little chance to recover.  Mine, at least. Hell, you'll probably be able to spring right back up, even if we did make love right now. But me…" Jim laughed a little, "I'm older. The recovery period is longer. Although, you've got a good track record so far, getting responses out of me."  He smiled and traced his thumb over Blair's lips.  "I love you."

 

"Love you, too."  It was Blair's turn to frown a little.

 

"What's wrong?"

 

"If this is a ritual, do we need to, y'know, like purify ourselves, or anything?"

 

Jim shook his head.  "If you--or I--were a virgin, there'd be a purification ritual, but since we aren't, we don't need to worry about that.  I mean, if you want to, that's fine. But it's not going to offend anyone, that I'm aware of." He raised an eyebrow at the young man in front of him.  "What'd you have in mind, anyway?"

 

Blair smiled. "Some cultures required fasting before a ceremony as a means of purification; others require bathing; some do both.  I guess it just depends on the culture…and I don't know anything about this one."

 

Jim frowned again. "To be perfectly honest, I don't know about the fasting thing. I don't spend a lot of time in the village; when I do, I'm not generally there for the festivities, y'know?  But I'll tell you what--we haven't eaten yet today, so why don't we fast, just to be on the safe side of things, and we'll consider the swim our bath."

 

The younger man smiled again and shook his head. "I want to *bathe*, Jim," he said quietly.  "Especially if you're gonna shave me," he rubbed his chest with one hand, "I'm gonna want to clean up afterward."

 

"I said one small patch, Sandburg, and where'd you get the idea *I* was gonna do it?"

 

Blair leaned in and licked Jim's lips. "What, you don't want to?" he asked huskily, his tongue teasing at the seam of the luscious mouth under his.

 

The older man gave up with a groan and fell backward, pulling Blair on top of him.  "You're going to be the death of me yet, brat," he mumbled against the full lips that were pressing on his.  "I'll end up a dried out, depleted husk."

 

"But what a way to go," Blair teased, before opening his mouth for the welcome invasion of Jim's tongue.

 

Their tongues dueled sweetly, hotly, for several long minutes before they reluctantly sat up, chests heaving and eyes wide and hot as they stared at each other.

 

"Let's go wash up, for real this time," Jim managed hoarsely, standing and offering a hand down to his lover.  Blair nodded and grasped the hand, allowing himself to be tugged into an upright position, then propelled back into the water, this time to finish what they needed to do.

 

~end part one~

 

Continue to Part Two

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