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2013-05-10
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Commitment

Summary:

Jim and Blair don't have a commitment ceremony. But in a good way.

Work Text:

Commitment

by Trekker

Author's website: http://www.members.aol.com/trkkr47/slash/dir.html

I didn't create any of these characters or settings. They all belong to Paramount and Pet Fly.

Thanks to my betas, without whom, I would be lost: Jenn, Anita, and Rhonda. ::waves:: Also, feedback is greatly appreciated and always responded to.

For those of you who need spoilers for "Scare," everyone is happy and healthy in this story.

This story is a sequel to: Scare


Ok, Blair says he told the first two parts of this story, so it's my turn now. Um. I don't talk a lot, sorry. I guess Blair probably told you about that in great detail, didn't he? Well, two can play at that game. I know a thing or two about him, too. For example, I knew Blair wasn't straight long before he did. I mean, Sentinel senses and all? No problem. See, people act different, and look different and smell different and everything when they're... interested, you know? And Blair had all the symptoms, especially around me. And Rafe, but that's a whole other story, and I am really not even going there. Blair and I already had our little talk about that.

Anyway. I'm not really sure where to start. Well. See, I knew Blair liked me, but I never intended it to start the way it did. I had this whole romantic scenario plotted out in my mind... not some sloppy drunken blowjob. Sometimes... no, often... life really doesn't go quite the way you want it to. Like that whole disastrous first kiss, like that night in the clinic. But anyway, Blair told you all that, so I guess I'll start... Friday morning.

Friday morning I woke up before Blair... Hell, I always wake up before Blair. He was still fast asleep, snuggled up next to me, breathing slowly, steadily. I could hear his heartbeat, and feel it, too, almost everywhere his body touched mine, a gentle pulsing thump where his wrist rested against my back, where his chest pressed against my side. I love Blair in the morning. No, I love Blair all the time, but I really love... the way he is in the morning. Maybe it'll sound a little gross to you, but I love it because that's when he... smells like himself. Humans can be so paranoid about the way the smell. There's a thousand million products out there designed to eliminate a human's natural scent. But see, when you've got a nose like mine, you start to appreciate it. I guess you'd have to, or otherwise it would drive you up the wall all the time.

Everyone has their own unique scent, something that dogs have known forever. And that scent changes all the time, when you're scared, or aroused, or sick. You can tell a hell of a lot about someone by how they smell.

Blair smells good to me. It's one of those little things a lot of people never realize, but scent plays a huge role in... well, mating rituals or whatever. Blair's got this scent that's like the undertones of a really expensive men's cologne. It's so hard to put it into words, there just aren't descriptive terms for scents, really. Not any that are particularly pleasant, anyway. But Blair, he smells good to me no matter what. Especially when he's at the point most people would consider in desperate need of a shower. See, I told you you'd think it was gross.

Ok, ok, plot. Right, get to the plot.

Friday morning was the morning of the day of our commitment ceremony. We had to go to work, because we wanted to save our days off for the honeymoon. Blair was warm and limp beside me, practically molded to my side, and the alarm was about to go off. I stretched my arm around behind me and flicked it off before it came on, and then leaned down to kiss the tip of Blair's nose. He frowned for a moment, then raised one hand to scratch the spot I kissed. Ah, my Blair. He's so romantic.

I leaned close again and whispered in his ear, something to the effect of, "Rise and shine, Snookums. Bad guys to catch."

I think it was the nickname that managed to wake him up, cause the first thing he said, in a barely-intelligible early-morning slur was, "Don' call me snookums."

"Whatever you say, Snookums," I said, then rolled over to get out of bed. "I'm showering. Your turn to dig up breakfast."

A wordless growl into the pillow was his only response. He's really not a morning person.

By the time I got out of the shower he was just bumping his way down the stairs in his boxers and T-shirt, moving like he was still not, in fact, awake. Poor kid. I started the coffee and toast and decided he could pay me back for breakfast later. I tried to tell him that, but he just gave me a bleary-eyed uncomprehending look as he vanished into the bathroom. I shook my head. He's so cute when he gets like that.


Despite Sandburg's slow start, he emerged from his shower looking far more alive and shaven, and the rest of our morning routine went smoothly. We arrived at the station an hour later, and from there, we split up. I stuck around, trying to tame the stack of paperwork on our desks while Blair headed out to interview some of his countless informants. I swear, that man can get anyone to talk to him. He got me to, after all.

I heard his voice downstairs around four and I kind of sat up at my desk, cocking my head to the side a bit. He was talking animatedly to the receptionist, something about how the woman's kid was doing, and weren't the test results supposed to have come in yesterday? She sounded pretty surprised that he remembered whatever it was he was talking about, and replied that everything had turned out fine. At that, Sandburg sobered a bit and said he was glad to hear that, he knew how scary it could be, not knowing. I nodded a bit in agreement before catching myself and forcing my eyes back down onto the form under my hand. There were only a few more required fields on it, and I had them filled out and was signing the form just as the elevator dinged and deposited a bundle of Blair-energy just outside of the bullpen.

He burst into the room, hair loose and bouncing around his shoulders, eyes shining, and I felt my heart make a little lunge towards him just from watching him. His eyes met mine and he grinned. God, he's beautiful. Just beautiful. And mine. All mine. I half-zoned just watching him walk over to our desks. I just couldn't tear my gaze away from him.

"Hey, man," he said, as he plunked down in his chair, snapping me out of it without even meaning to, as far as I could tell, "How goes the paperwork?"

I made a show of dropping the form into my out pile and shrugged. I noticed an odd out-of-place scent, but I ignored it.

"It's going."

Before I could get more detailed, Simon bellowed, "Ellison, Sandburg, my office!"

I saw a flicker of nervousness Blair's eyes.

"Man, this better not be a case. He knows-"

I ruffled his hair as we both headed towards the door of doom.

"Don't worry, Chief, he's only pretending to be a hard-ass, remember?"

"I dunno, man, he's way more convincing than you..."

I laughed as I pushed the door open and walked into Simon's office. Simon was sitting at his desk writing something. He quickly slipped whatever it was into a stack of papers and looked up.

"Sit down, gentlemen."

He didn't look very happy. We sat. Blair's heart was hammering a mile a minute, and I reached out to touch his hand. Hell, Simon already knew more than he ever wanted to about our sex life. Nothing we did would shock him.

He cleared his throat.

"You get that paperwork done, Jim?"

"Uh. Most of it, sir."

"Good enough. Get your asses out of here, then. See you at seven."

We were both so shocked, we didn't move until he waved one hand at us.

"Go on. Shoo!"

Then we were both up on our feet, and Sandburg had his hand on the doorknob. No telling when Simon might suddenly change his mind. I just tossed a quick "Thank you, sir," over my shoulder before fleeing out the door.


"Man, we totally should have gotten a caterer," Blair grumbled as he slid a pan of his famous lasagna into the oven. I was standing by the sink, chopping vegetables to steam. I laid the knife aside and caught his sleeve before he stalked off, then pulled him firmly into my arms, his back to my chest.

"Jiiiim," he said, trying to pull away.

"Shh, hey, this is supposed to be a happy day, babe, relax. Everything's going just right, ok?"

I pressed my face against the back of his head, and his ponytail dug into my throat. His hair smelled like shampoo and Blair, and I let the scent wash over me as he relaxed in my arms. I noticed that out-of-place scent again, but it became unimportant as his tense body loosened until he was sort of slumped back against my chest.

"It's just... I hate ceremonies, you know? Well, I don't hate ceremonies, I mean I love ceremonies, there's so much history and symbolism and-" he stopped when he realized he was going off track. "But I've always been the outsider, looking in. I just don't... believe in them."

I shut my eyes and just enjoyed the feeling of how well he fit in my arms.

"Yeah, I know."

I heard his heart rate speed up a bit and smelled a slight tang of nervousness as he said, "I study all these things people do and why they do them and sometimes it kind of makes it all so... unreal. I don't see why we have to go through all this. I feel like it'll kind of, I don't know, cheapen it or something. Like we're trying to make our lives fit on a Hallmark card or something, man. I mean, I'm not going anywhere. Whether or not we go and stand in front of everyone and say a few rehearsed lines or not isn't gonna change that."

"We don't have to."

All the tension returned to him, and his body stiffened in my arms.

"What does that mean? Don't you want-"

I moved my head and kissed his ear, noting the light shiver that ran over his body as I did it.

"It means we don't have to do this the traditional way. Whatever you want."

"Oh."

He began to relax again.

"Blair," I whispered, "This is just a formality. No one knows that better than I do. Weddings or commitment ceremonies or whatever don't really change anything. But you know what? We've got the real deal."

I began to stroke his sides slowly, dragging my hands up and then down again, feeling the staticy fuzz of his sweater send tingles up my arms.

"I've never been so sure of anything before," I continued. His body warmed as he responded to the sensual caress. "It doesn't matter what we say or don't say today. I'd never leave you, never make you leave, never again. I know I can be pretty dense, but now I know. You're my life, you showed me who I am, I'd be fucking lost without you..."

I tightened my arms around him, kind of taken aback by the intensity of the emotion that swept over me. He kissed my jaw and I turned my head to meet his hungry mouth. Somewhere in that mind-blowing kiss he squirmed enough to get turned around facing me, his arms around my back, and we were holding each other so crushingly tight it was hard to even inhale. He tucked his head under my chin and we just held each other as the kitchen began to fill with the aroma of cooking lasagna.

God, I don't even know how to express how I feel about him. He's... it's so hard. It's like scents, there just aren't the right words in existence to describe it. Well, maybe Blair would know words for it, in some other language, but I'm pretty sure they don't exist in English.

"Me too, man," he said to my collarbone. His breath tickled through my shirt.

"Feel better?" I asked him after a little while.

He nodded, and we both let go and stepped back. I touched my palm against his cheek, then turned back to my vegetables. We had a hell of schedule to keep before everyone started to show up. He stepped up beside me with his own knife and cutting board and silently started helping.

I thought that was that and it was all over, until a few minutes before seven, I walked out to join him on the balcony and he looked up at me and whispered, "I don't want to do it, Jim."


So, we didn't. We, or rather, I, explained to everyone that while this was a celebration of our love and our commitment, no vows were going to be exchanged or anything like that. The announcement caused a bit of a stir, but everyone settled down eventually and we served the food. Dinner was a rather noisy affair, just like any other night the whole Major Crimes gang gets together. At first my father seemed a little out of place, but Blair performed a little of his magic and managed to draw him into the conversation. Unfortunately, that got him and Naomi talking and for awhile the conversation degenerated into a highly embarrassing series of young Jim and Blair stories.And while I blushed in all the appropriate places, to be honest, it was kind of touching that my father remembered all of those things. In fact, Naomi and my father hit it off remarkably well... to the point where Blair nudged her with his elbow and stage-whispered, "Mom! That's my father-in-law!" That got a laugh from the table. Blair and my eyes met over the table, and he glanced away with an adorable shy smile.

Dinner ended shortly after that and Blair and I cleared off the table and moved everyone to the living room, where the inevitable speeches and gifts were given. We'd tried to tell everyone that no gifts were expected or necessary, but of course, no one listened. Everyone in Major Crimes got together to get us a new set of fishing poles. Naomi was creative about it... she just handed Blair a small folded piece of paper with a phone number written on it. It turned out to be the number for the satellite phone she just bought, so he'd be able to get in touch with her anytime, anywhere. My father and Stephen also pooled their resources and made a sizable donation to the Cascade PD. After the uncalled for, but appreciated, gifts had been given, Simon called for quiet in his usual booming voice and raised his glass.

"Ok, ok, everyone settle down. I'm the self-appointed best man around here, since these two knuckleheads are my best friends and I'd like to think the feeling's mutual. So I guess I should say a few words. First off, I'd like to say... it took you long enough. You two have been making goo-goo eyes at each other since the day Jim tried to convince me Sandburg was his cousin."

Simon snorted at the concept and the rest of the room laughed.

"Second... Jim, if you are ever bird-brained enough to throw Sandburg out of this loft again, I will personally see to it that you regret the day you were ever born. And I think I'd have help..."

At this, the rest of the Major Crimes gang... including Sandburg himself... expressed their enthusiastic agreement. Simon nodded, and lowered his glass, suddenly becoming solemn.

"Can't say I really understand it, but you two compliment each other. You're both a hell of a lot better off together than you are apart. Don't forget that. It's not easy being different. It's not easy knowing that there are people out there who may hate you for what you are through no fault of your own. But just remember, that's their problem, not yours. Everyone in this room knows that this is the right thing. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise, you got that? And if you ever need help kicking their asses... not that you would, as long as there's a vending machine or a baseball close at hand..."

He gave Sandburg a long slow look.

"But if you ever do... you know who to call."

He smiled, shaking his head.

"Congratulations, you two. I hope the goo-goo eyes continue for many years to come. Just not in my office... please."

He tipped his glass and everyone returned the salute as he sat back down. For a moment a lull fell over the room, just a quiet rush of conversation. I could feel the heat Blair's hand on my thigh seeping through my jeans, and I set down my wine glass so I could lay my own hand on top of his. He glanced at me from whatever he was saying to Megan and smiled quickly, then turned back to her. He turned his hand over and interlocked his fingers with mine.

There was one more speech that evening. Well, it wasn't quite long enough to be called a speech... but it surprised the hell out of me. Just as everything was winding down, my father got to his feet and cleared his throat quietly. Just as it always had throughout my childhood, that sound brought an instant silence to the room. He smiled and then spoke.

"I've missed a lot of my son's life. And I regret that. I do. I'm almost grateful for that man who kidnapped me. He brought Jimmy... Jim, back to me."

His gaze darted around the room like a nervous sparrow, and there was a surprising quiver in his voice.

"I'm grateful for that anyway. I'm glad I didn't miss this. Blair's a, a good man, and.... well, it's good to see you happy, Jim. I've lived a long time and maybe now I'm just starting to see how important that is. Just... being happy."

Finally, his eyes met mine.

"To Jim and Blair... my son-in-law."

He raised his glass and grinned. My father actually grinned. The effect my partner has on people never ceases to amaze me. Beside me, said partner was laughing his ass off... whether it was at my father or at my shocked expression I wasn't sure.


Naomi was the last person to leave that night, following the crowd out around ten. Blair hugged her goodbye at the door, while I sat at the table trying to recuperate a little from the night's events. I looked up when I heard the door shut and found him leaning back against it, gazing back at me. His ponytail holder was fighting a losing battle, and a few thin stray curls floated around his face. One side of his mouth pulled up in a tired half-smile for a moment, and I felt myself smiling back. He looked so huggable... kind of sleepy, with his fuzzy blue sweater hanging enticingly over his soft faded jeans.

And then he pushed himself away from the door a started towards me and huggable just wasn't quite the right word anymore. Edible comes a little closer. There was a seductive sway in his step, his eyes half closed, and his smile went from drowsy to sexy. My own breathing was suddenly roaring in my ears. My dials just go to hell when Blair gets like that. The air was heavy with pheromones, both mine and his before he even reached me... and when he did... god...

He stopped just in front of me, his knees practically touching mine, and reached out to cup my cheek with one hand. I shut my eyes and leaned into his touch. His skin was warm and dry, and I could hear his pulse pounding in the artery in his wrist, and feel the corresponding pulses of heat against my chin. I drew in a deep breath. It was like I was drowning in him, his own scent, his shampoo, his pheromones, that nagging smell of something... my sense of touch was up so high I could feel his heat outlined against my body, and it was like I could see him when he moved forward again, spreading his feet so he could straddle my lap. He kept inching forward until he was pressed against me, firm and warm.

I was on the edge of a zone, not lost yet, but too far gone to think or act. His hand slid down my cheek and under my chin, gently turning my face up... then he pulled back and bent forward. I opened my eyes for a moment just in time to see his lips part before he pressed them to mine. I had to open my mouth just to breathe, and when I did, his tongue swiped softly over the inside of my upper lip. Touch was so high, it felt like an earthquake as my skin broke out in goosebumps.

"Jim," he whispered. I could taste his words in my mouth... but, like always, my guide's voice was enough to pull me back a bit. I regretted the loss of sensation, but in trade, I got back my mobility. I raised my hands to his sides... fuzzy smooth sweater yarn over firm muscles... and opened my mouth wider. I groaned from deep in my chest when he thrust his tongue inside, claiming me, filling me with his flavor, as beloved to me as his scent.

Wanted him so bad. I blindly reached up and wrapped my hand loosely around the base of his ponytail. My senses were pulling me in four directions at once. Touch... the feeling of his curls brushing my wrist, I could count every one if I tried. Smell... the heady scent of desire. Sound... the wet click as our lips parted and joined again. Taste... Blair, all Blair, nothing in the world but Blair.

I tightened my grip and pulled him down suddenly, wanting more, more... we kissed as though we would never get the chance again, hot and wet and desperate, in between gasped breaths. Blair moaned, and his hips rocked against me once. It didn't take Sentinel senses to feel how hard he was, the heat of his erection burning through all those layers of clothing.

"O-h, man," he said, stumbling over the words. He sank down onto my lap, keeping us balanced by wrapping his arms and legs around both me and the back of the chair and leaning firmly against me. He rested his forehead on my shoulder, breathing as though he couldn't quite get enough air. I took advantage of the brief lull to gently tug his hair out of the band that was barely restraining it anyway. I let it go and a rush of warm, soft Blairhair cascaded around my throat. I couldn't stop the long, shuddering breath that sensation forced out of me. My cock twitched and I felt a wave of heat through my groin.

Thousands of tickling strands teased the bottom of my chin when Blair turned his head and kissed the side of my neck. Lips sticky with both of our saliva, warm...

"You have a fetish, Jim."

"Mmm," I said, twisting my head a little to bury my nose against his scalp just above his ear. "It's a kink. There's a difference. God, you smell so good, babe."

I drew in a deep breath, flooding my senses unashamedly, and he gasped, rocking against me. I did it again, this time just to see his reaction. I wasn't disappointed.

"Oh, man... man that is so hot..."

I shifted a little lower, took a long lick of the hollow behind his ear. His pulse was fast beneath the skin here, beating wildly against my tongue. He tasted like salt and musk and a trace of bitter soap. I licked again, getting the area good and wet, and then pursed my lips and blew a soft breath over it.

He squirmed in pleasure at the sudden chill, and his mouth moved along my shoulder until he found skin to tease with his teeth.

I love having Blair in my lap, but he's not exactly a slight little thing. I was losing feeling in my toes, and when you're a Sentinel, that's a bad sign. Also, I was starting to really feel the need for a bed.

"Blair, stand up... upstairs..."

He scooted back off my legs instantly, bouncing to his feet. He was already to the foot of the stairs by the time I managed to stagger to my feet.

"Come on, already. Jeeze, this from the guy who just chased a crook down six blocks and up a fire escape?"

I sighed and shook my head as he bounded up to our bedroom.

"That's tiring, you know?" I called after him. Ow. Pins and needles.

"That was last week, Jim... and I was right behind you! I'm starting without you, here!"

That got me moving. I was halfway up the stairs when Blair's sweater came sailing over the railing and fluttered lazily down into the living room. I swear, he'll take any opportunity to make a mess. I heard him unbuttoning his jeans and bellowed, "Sandburg, don't you touch that zipper. That is MY job."

I reached the top of the stairs to find him sprawled on his back, shirtless, on the bed, chuckling, with his jeans unbuttoned, but not unzipped. The lamp light glinted on his nipple ring. His hands were folded behind his head and his hair splayed across the sheets. My stomach did a brief flipflop, and I heard my own heart begin to beat faster. Beautiful. And mine, all mine. I just froze, one hand still on the stair railing.

"God, Blair... you are... gorgeous."

"So are you, man. Com'ere."

His voice was low and husky, almost a rumble. Blair's voice always has a hold over me, but when it gets like that... I shuddered and walked over to stand by the side of the bed.

"Let's get those clothes off, shall we?" he continued.

His Guide voice. Hell, I would have been powerless to resist even if I had wanted to. I raised my hands to my collar and began to unbutton my shirt. Well, at least I was having the same effect on him that he was having on me. His eyes darkened and his breath caught for a moment. I pulled my shirt out of my pants and shrugged it off, feeling it ghost over my arms as it slid down and off. I dialed up my sense of touch and ran my hands slowly up my chest, arcing into my own touch. I wondered briefly if it really was possible to feel someone's gaze. My hearing picked up Blair's tiny whimper and I groaned in response, then trailed my hands down to my waistband, letting one drift back and forth just over my cock, not quite touching the fabric, but close enough so I could feel the heat and the swirl of air. Oh, that felt better than I thought it would. I thrust at nothing for a moment, and my knees nearly buckled beneath me in the process. Blair's breathing was suddenly harder and faster, and I heard the first click of his zipper.

"Blair! Mine."

"Then get your ass over here and lay a claim, man. Possession is nine-tenths of the law, y'know."

His voice was getting strained... but it still had its power. I sat down on the bed and scooted over next to him. I slid my hand under his, which was still down by his zipper, and leaned in to kiss him. I could feel his erection against my hand. I began lightly stroking him. He sighed against my lips, then rolled over to his side and wrapped his arms around my neck, pulling me close to deepen the kiss.

I moved my hand around to his back and began to rub circles there. His chest was pressed to mine, contradictory textures of springy, wiry hair, the cool metal ring, and warm, firm muscle. His lips were wet and giving, and his hair brushed against my cheek. We broke the kiss for a moment and laid side by side, staring into each other's eyes. He trailed his fingers through my hair a few times.

"Blair... I... I just love you."

"I know, man," he said, then leaned forward to press a kiss first to my forehead, then my eyelids, then the tip of my nose. I was ready and waiting when he reached my lips again.

This time, as we kissed I slowly worked my hand under the waistband of his jeans. My finger touched the cleft of his ass and he made a noise that might have been a word if his tongue hadn't been occupied. I pushed in farther, curling my hand around the swell of muscle and pushing one finger in between his cheeks. I liked the way his waistband clutched my wrist against his back.

I reached between us and tweaked his tempting nipple ring just as the finger on my other hand found the small pucker it had been seeking. We both groaned at the same moment, and he pulled me closer to him. I could feel his body temperature rising another notch. I began to move my finger slowly, back and forth over the small opening, pressing firmly against the smooth skin, but not pushing inside.

I continued this for a few seconds before rolling over on top of him. My arm was caught between his back and the bed, but I kept up the slow movement of my finger, sometimes reaching a little lower to massage his perineum. I took some of my own weight on my other arm, and shifted down his body, taking my time and lavishing attention on every sensitive spot on his body. By the time I got down to the point where I had to pull my hand out of his pants, he was sweating and thrusting back against my finger, softly begging for more.

I finally unzipped his fly and he raised his hips to help me lower his pants and boxers down to his knees. I caught a strong wave of the strange scent that had been nagging me since that afternoon and I pulled back suddenly.

"Wha? Man-" Blair mumbled.

"What is that?" I asked, but the moment I swept my gaze down his body the question became moot.

"Oh my god, Blair," I whispered, and I slid down his body, my eyes glued to a two-inch or so patch of gauze taped to his stomach just above his left leg. "What happened? Are you-"

He sat partway up, propping himself up with his elbows. His eyes were open all the way now, and his erection had faded. A hint of nervousness mingled in with the scent of his arousal.

"Uh. Take it off. See for yourself."

I plucked at the tape, trying to get it off without hurting him anymore than necessary, bracing myself for anything, telling myself over and over that a bandage that small can't cover anything too serious. The tape came off and I pulled the gauze away. And gasped.

"Blair..."

His heartbeat was a little fast.

"So? Do you like it?"

A tattoo. He'd gotten a tattoo.

I reached towards it, then froze and turned my eyes up to his, "Can I touch it?"

"Uh. Gently."

I let my finger touch his skin finally, tracing around the inked area without actually touching the tattoo itself. His skin was a bit red around the edges, but it didn't seem infected. I couldn't stop staring at the pattern.

My name, with an infinity symbol twined around it.

Blair was still nervous.

"I was careful, Jim," he said, talking quickly, "A friend did it, she's really good, new needles, dye, all that... I never got a tattoo before. You know, I kept thinking I'd have the thing my whole life, and I kept telling myself I wouldn't get one until I could think of something I knew I'd want to have on my body for the rest of my life, even when I was old and it was faded... and..."

"It's beautiful," I breathed.

"This was it, man. The rest of my life."

The next few seconds are still a bit a blur to me. All I know is the next thing I remember is being back in his arms, kissing him with ever fiber of my being. And he was kissing back just as enthusiastically. I could feel the blood rushing back to both of our cocks, and then he rolled us over, pinning me beneath him and attacking my throat, sucking at the skin over my jugular like some kind of vampire. I groaned and thrust up, wishing I'd gotten around to taking my pants off. The heat of his mouth on my skin was incredible, I could feel the capillaries filling where he sucked, could feel the mark forming in a gathering of hot blood, jostling cells.

"Oh Blair..."

"Mmph," was his only reply as he moved down, panting. My touch dial slipped out of my grasp again, and his breath felt like a hurricane against my skin, and the heat of his cock practically seemed to burn as it brushed against my thigh.

"You feel that, Jim?" He whispered over my nipple, gusts of moist air caressing my sensitized skin like countless tiny hands. "You feel my hands on you, my breath on you? Can you still taste me on your lips? Go on, dial up. I won't let you go."

I inhaled deeply, letting my dials jump up to where they wanted to go, letting my control go and getting lost in the feelings. I shut my eyes and let my other senses take over. The scents of him, the sounds of him, the stuff of all my fantasies for years. His tongue touched my chest again it was as though he was touching my cock, my skin was that sensitive. I cried out and pushed into his touch. He licked more firmly, like he was trying to taste every inch of my chest. I felt myself losing it, coming apart at the seams.

"Blair, I'm gonna come... please..."

He pulled away, laying across my body and murmuring, "Feel me, Jim, feel how fast my heart is beating, feel how hard my dick is, can you feel that?"

Oh god, yes, I could.

"Feel how much I want you, Jim. I want you so bad. So bad."

His hands drifted down to my waist, tracing my straining erection through my pants and then sliding up to unbutton my fly. My zipper sounded loud as he pulled it down, I guess my hearing was up higher than I thought. He pulled away from me from a moment, to kick his pants and underwear off, but he kept talking all the while.

"Can you smell me, Jim? You smell so good to me right now."

He laid back down on me, his head on my chest, and pushed my pants and boxers down my legs.

"I can tell you're aroused, I can smell it in your sweat, I can taste it..."

He began to stroke me, long languid sweeps of his hand over my cock, up and down, slow but getting faster, keeping up a steady stream of words the whole time, driving me out of my mind.

"I can hear your heart pounding... Can you? Can you hear your own blood roaring through your veins?"

I was thrusting into his grip, my cock brushing his stomach with every movement, but his voice was pushing me towards orgasm almost faster than his hand. He kept talking even though he was breathing hard between the words, and partially losing his train of thought.

"Can you tell you taste different when you're turned on? Cause you do. You do, and I love..."

I could feel it, my body moments away, my balls drawing closer to my body, my heartbeat pounding to a crescendo, the world taking on a brighter edge.

"I love that I can do that to you... I love you. Come on, Jim, come for me."

Everything seemed to explode around me, like a massive sensory spike, only it was good, so good, like Blair was pulling every ounce of pleasure out of all five of my senses at once and it was destroying me from the inside out but oh, what a way to go.

When things settled down to normal again and I opened my eyes, I saw he was propped up on his forearms over my stomach, licking my come off my stomach with long swipes of his tongue. His hair was scattered all over my abdomen, tickling and teasing, but there was no way in hell I was going to get it up again in less than an hour or two. So I could just relax and enjoy the sensual moment, the feeling of Blair's tongue, like wet velvet running over my muscles, his curls dancing over my sides.

I reached down to run my fingers through that hair, with a slow, lazy hand.

"You're amazing, babe," I said, closing my eyes again and just melting back against the bed. All points were reporting in, and they were all happy, from the tips of my toes to the top of my scalp. I sighed and smiled as I felt Blair slip one hand under my right thigh and coax me to bend my knees.

I drew my legs up to give him access and just waited. This was his show from here on out. He kissed my navel and then sat back on his heels, I could see the tattoo, just to the left of his hard cock, and I focused my sight on it for a moment, tracing the golden infinity sign around the J, the I, and the M. I was still in a bit of shock over that tattoo even being there, but it looked right. It looked like it belonged there. A flash of movement and the tattoo was out of my line of sight. He'd turned towards the night table, to retrieve the condom and lube we'd already placed there. He was back almost before I'd had time to realize he was gone, and he pulled my hips up into his lap.

I threw my head back as his first cool, slick finger ran around my anus a few times and then dipped inside.

"Mmm. Feels good, baby," I said, feeling far more vocal now that the desperate desire to come had been appeased. His finger sank in deeper, and my body tightened involuntarily around it. I could turn touch up and feel the whorls of his fingerprint. Oh yes, this was good.

I spent the whole preparation process nearly zoned on touch, but I trusted Blair not to let me get too lost in the sensation. I came back to myself a bit when he braced my legs over his arms and stretched out on top of me. His lips touched mine and I lifted my head to kiss him. I opened my eyes for a moment as his tongue pushed between my lips and saw his eyes closed, long lashes casting shadows on his cheeks, his hair like a curtain around us, shutting out the rest of the world leaving nothing but us in this private place that was warm and smelled like Blair.

I was more than ready when he pushed inside me, hot and hard, filling me. I gave a soft moan, twisted my back a little to get to an angle that would let him in deeper.

He whispered to me, staying so close our lips still touched.

"Oh. Oh yes. Jim."

As though he were discovering this for the first time. As though he still couldn't believe the feeling. We were still kissing as he began to move, rocking back and forth slowly, almost teasing himself. He was whimpering softly.

"So good, babe," I said, beginning to get incoherent again as he rubbed against my prostate. The feeling of Blair's cock inside me was overwhelming. I did the best I could, giving small grunts of encouragement as his thrusts became a little faster and firmer. I could feel my own cock making a valiant effort to harden.

I opened my eyes again when he pulled his lips away and saw he had thrown his head back, his hair brushing over his bare shoulders. His eyes were still closed and his lips were parted as he gasped quick sips of air. He was as zoned as any non-Sentinel could ever be, trapped in the sensation and just drifting with it like it was a current bound for an inevitable waterfall. My senses were focused on him completely when he went over the edge: the sight of ecstasy flowing over his face, the scent of his come, the feeling of his body shaking against mine, the sound of his soft, wordless cry.

I gathered him in my arms when he collapsed bonelessly on my chest, petted his long curls, and waited to see if he wanted to cuddle or just drift off to sleep. I only had to wait a few moments before he stirred again, looked up to trail a string of open-mouthed kisses around the side of my jaw and then squirmed up to rest his head on the pillow beside me, his face tucked into the hollow between my neck and my shoulder, his hand curled on my chest.

"Mmm," was his only attempt at vocalization, and then I felt his eyelashes flutter shut. I tuned my senses into his slowing respiration and heartbeat and dozed with him. After about thirty minutes, he woke back up, snuffled, and then rolled over to his edge of the bed and sat up, groping around until he found his boxers. He pulled them on and got up, then mumbled, "be back."

I listened to him thumping down the stairs, smiling at his modesty given the circumstances, and then reached back over my head, grabbing the railing behind me and arching my back to stretch my whole body. I sighed as all the kinks in my muscles eased, and then I dropped back flat onto the bed and reached out without looking to open the bedside table drawer and pull out a manila envelope. I dropped the envelope on his pillow and then let myself drift back into a state somewhere between sleeping and waking, almost unconsciously tracking his movements in the bathroom and then his footsteps across the living room and up the stairs.

The bed bounced and he announced his returned with a quick kiss to my lips. Then he leaned over me to pick up the envelope.

"What's this?"

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, one leg tucked up under him so his knee was almost touching me, holding the envelope in both hands and eying it. I felt suddenly nervous. I hoped he didn't take this the wrong way. I sat up cross-legged and said, "Go ahead and open it. And, uh, look, if you don't want... well, I just... anyway."

As usual I couldn't find the right words.

"Why am I suspicious?" he said, his tone teasing, and he waggled his eyebrows at me. He opened the envelope and turned it upside down to pull out the contents.

"Ooo," he said, his tone still light, "A bunch of legal papers and a checkbook. Just what I always wanted!"

I snatched the nearest pillow and raised it threateningly.

"Just look at it, Sandburg," I growled.

He grinned at me, then grabbed his glasses off of the nightstand and slipped them on, holding the first page up to the light and setting the rest of the pile aside. His expression sobered a bit as he started to read, and the longer he read, the more serious he seemed. Then he looked up.

"So... this, like, gives me power over you if... something happens..."

I nodded.

"Yeah. I made sure my lawyer understood that you were the one to consult, not my father or my brother."

Blair nodded, then picked up the next sheet.

"I get the feeling these papers are all something along those lines."

"Uh. Yeah..."

I couldn't tell what he was thinking and it worried me. He seemed tense.

"Is there a problem with that? I mean, I can change it back if you..."

He continued to look through the pages as though I hadn't spoken.

"You changed your will?" he said, sounding almost outraged.

I didn't know what to say, just sat there in stunned silence. He froze as well, noticing my lack of a response, and slowly set the page he was holding back down and looked up, meeting my eyes.

"Jim?"

I turned my eyes away.

"Look, I'm sorry, I just thought-"

"Aw, man, Jim," he said softly, and touched my arm with one light hand, "I didn't mean it that way... I just don't want to think about it. You know, the chance that I might...you know... lose you. And I'm... a little overwhelmed, to be honest."

I didn't look up from the bedspread.

"So you don't mind?"

"Mind? Man, this is incredible. No one's ever... I mean, it's like, real, you know? Like we're really... married."

Still not moving my head, I reached out and laid my hand on his ankle, squeezing gently and rubbing the top of his foot with my thumb. I smiled.

"We are, Blair."

"I know. Yeah, I know."

I took a deep breath.

"You'd better look at the checkbook before you decide for sure."

I watched his hand reach out and pick up the checks, then dared raise my eyes to watch his face as he flipped the book open, a small frown creasing his features. And I watched as a smile pushed the frown away. He tilted his head down and peered at me over his glasses.

"You do realize your checking account is now in grave danger, right?"

I finally relaxed enough to smile back.

"Our checking account is in grave danger."

He tossed the check book aside and tackled me, his lips meeting mine in a joyful kiss. It was kind of short, given that it's hard to kiss while laughing. I found myself pinned to the bed by an armful of happy, half-naked, giggling Blair, and that was not at all a bad position to be in. His glasses were sliding off his nose so I plucked them off and returned them to the bedside table. He grew quieter at the gesture, love replacing the laughter in his eyes. After I put down his glasses, I laid both of my hands on his shoulders and ran them slowly down and then up his back.

His body responded instantly, faster heartbeat, dilated pupils, a little sweat. He let himself down like a blanket over me, knowing I could take his weight, but instead of sealing our lips together in a kiss, he edged over to the side and pillowed his head on my shoulder.

"You ok, Chief?" I asked, holding still.

He nodded, and then said, "Jim? Will you... I want you to..." He closed his eyes, and I could feel his hand curling abruptly into a fist. I was kind of surprised. Sandburg usually has no problem saying what he wants.

I was about to start making suggestions, when he finally got it out, in a quick breathy whisper.

"Inside me?"

I was kind of surprised by the jolt that simple question sent through me. We hadn't done that since the first time. Blair had admitted that he'd liked it, he'd just never felt ready for it a second time. And I could understand that. Hell, it took me a long time to get to that stage too. I slid my arm around his shoulder and kissed his forehead.

"Are you sure?"

"Man, I wouldn't ask if I wasn't. Trust me."

He rocked his hips against me and I could feel the evidence of the truth of this statement, then he slid off me to lie face down on the bed. I turned onto my side next to him, stroking his spine with just the back of one bent finger. He shivered, and I moved in closer, rolling up onto my hands and knees over him.

I could sense the urgency in his body, in his scent and in the way he was holding himself, tense and motionless, and I knew he wasn't looking for foreplay this time. I rubbed his shoulder with the palm of one hand, then backed up and settled down between his legs. For a moment, I nuzzled my face against the top of his thigh through his boxers, and then I pulled back and slid his boxers down and off his legs.

He spread his legs and moaned my name and it nearly undid me. I shook myself and stretched out on my stomach again, dialing down touch enough to prevent the friction from the covers against my cock from making me come and then I touched my tongue to the small dimple right above his ass. He jumped. I smiled and then slowly licked downwards, pulling his asscheeks apart with my hands and running my tongue down the crease to my goal. He groaned deep in his chest.

I could taste a little bit of fresh soap, and realized that must have been what he was doing downstairs. Preparing for this. The thought sent another bolt of lust through me. Beneath the soap though, he still tasted like himself, stronger than anywhere else, and the flavor of him branded itself on my tastebuds and I dialed up, filling my world with the elemental taste of him, lapping around the tight ring of muscles lightly, teasingly.

"God Jim," he gasped, "I still can't believe you like that."

I chuckled softly, sending a few puffs of breath over his sensitive skin. He groaned and I upped the ante a little, pressing my tongue rhythmically against the opening until it relaxed enough to let me inside. Oh yes, I lived for that feeling. I thrust deep inside, his body spasming around me, the taste...

"Jim! Christ, Jim!" he cried as I tongue-fucked him. His body was loosening more every second. He'd be ready soon. He was shaking.

I pulled away and gently squeezed his calf.

"You still want this, Chief?"

"Oh yeah. Yes, yes, yes," he said, his face buried in a pillow.

It only took seconds to take care of all the necessities, and then I was sliding into him. And it was all I could do not to zone.

The satin-slick walls of his body clung to every contour of my cock, massaging me continually from all sides, like a single hot wet tongue that wrapped all the way around me, that could take me in all the way to the hilt. I arched my back and struggled just to breathe, suddenly completely aware of every physical sensation around me, the air on my bare skin, his muscles caressing my cock, the covers that I had clenched in my hands. I wouldn't zone. I refused to zone. I tried with every fiber of my being not to zone.

And again, with just one word, he brought me back.

"No."

That was the word that did it, but more came after that, "No way are you gonna zone on me here, Ellison. Focus!"

I folded my elbows and let myself down on top of him, feeling his heartbeat reverberate through his back and send small vibrations up into my chest. I pushed my face up under his hair and kissed the back of his neck.

"I'm focused," I whispered.

I could feel the pounding of his heart all around me. That sensation alone could have made me come, just holding still and letting that pulsing stroke me. And then I moved, just slowly pulling out and then pushing back in again, one time. We gasped at the same moment.

The feeling was too good, I was on the edge of a zone again, and so I sucked his earlobe into my mouth and opened my eyes, spreading my attention out between touch, taste, sight and scent, so that I wouldn't get lost in just one of them. Then I whispered, "Talk to me, Blair, please, talk to me."

He let out the words in a rush of breath, "Ah God, Jim... oh fuck yes."

He nudged up with his hips, urging me silently to move again, and so I did, out and in, once, twice, three times, then losing count as we began to build a slow rhythm.

"Love your voice, babe," I gasped into his ear, "Could listen to you... all day... could listen... to you... reading... the phone book..."

He was breathing hard. I thought maybe I'd finally found a way to render him speechless, but in a moment, he proved me wrong.

"Oh, man, you feel so good... inside me... you have such a beautiful cock man, I've been dreaming about this... I don't know why I waited so long, god, Jim... Jim, I want to see you..."

He didn't need to ask twice. I pulled out and sat back as he rolled over, then I hooked my hands under his knees and pulled his legs up over my shoulders. I glanced up and was pinned in place by his intense gaze. I smiled at him, and he smiled back, lifting one hand off the covers and holding it out to me. I swung forward, holding myself over his body again and kissing his lips once before closing my hand around his and sliding back inside of him. He was totally relaxed, and at this new angle, I could get in deeper than I ever had before. He groaned suddenly and arched his back, then began chanting, "oh man, oh man, oh man..."

I paused.

"Blair? You ok?"

He nodded, only a slight jerk of his head, but enough to convey his meaning. His eyes were fixed on the ceiling.

This time, there were no interruptions as we began to move together. Our pace sped up by mutual consent until I was pounding into him, and he was all but lunging off the bed to meet each of my thrusts.

He pulled me down without warning, and we kissed desperately as our climaxes overtook both of us. His muscles clenched around my cock, and for a moment, I really thought I might pass out. And then I was lying on his chest, feeling his sticky semen on my stomach and his arms around my back.

"Damn," he said, "That felt way too good. That should be, like, illegal man..."

"It is illegal," I said, "In some states."

He was silent for a moment, then he said, "Oh. Yeah. But not for the right reasons."

I snorted and rolled off him onto my side.

"You're a strange little man, Sandburg."

"Hey, I am not little," he said, poking me in the arm with his index finger to emphasize the last two words.

I closed my eyes and fought off a yawn.

"Fine then, you're an impressively large strange man. Better?"

"Yes, much."

"Case and point," I mumbled, snuggling against his side and letting the fuzzy haze of sleep shut down my higher functions.

The last thing I heard before drifting off was Blair's muttered, "Loser."

Ah, love. Isn't it great?


End Commitment by Trekker: [email protected]

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