Author's webpage: http://enook.com/hl/deshaun/deshaun.htm

Author's disclaimer: BZZZZZZZ.... Hear that? It's a fly--a Pet Fly, and all things Sentinel belong to it. They're not mine, and I make no claim to them (unless the fly paper starts to work a lot better).

Author's notes: A big 'thank-you' to my favorite editrix, Ruth, and her cat o'eight tails. (Ruth is a strong proponent of 'less is more'. Amazing how often she's right.)

The Cure
by Diana DeShaun

"It's like talking to a wall!"

The words sounded through the loft long after the echoes from the slamming door had died away.

Jim Ellison rubbed his weary face with his hands and sighed. Blair just didn't understand. He would never understand. And, God help him, Jim didn't understand either.

It had all started with rules--the so-called House Rules that he'd laid down in self-defense when he first acquired his 'temporary' roommate. Feeling like a man swept up in a whirlwind, Jim had found himself taking refuge in imaginary lines drawn in the sand, in rules, in order to keep a safe distance from the dervish at its source.

It hadn't worked. Oh, some of the rules had more or less stuck. As far as Jim knew, there weren't any mummified sandwiches between the couch cushions. Occasionally, he considered moving the cushions just to be sure, but.... Besides, first impressions to the contrary, the younger man wasn't really that much of a slob, nor was he nearly the freak-n-geek Jim had thought him to be at that first meeting. Far from it. And therein lay the problem.

Blair Sandburg was a beautiful, brilliant, caring man. And the focus of all that beauty and brilliance and caring was, more often than not, Jim Ellison. In theory, it sounded wonderful. In reality, Jim found that he was slowly being subsumed into the gestalt. At least that's what Sandburg called it. When Blair tried to explain the complex psychological reasons why he and Jim had connected so well as a unit, Jim merely substituted his own words to describe the phenomena. All the big fancy words boiled down to one thing: Jim Ellison was in love with Blair Sandburg. If that wasn't a connection, he didn't know what was.

Blair Sandburg, in turn, had a great deal of obvious affection for Jim Ellison. But as for love...Sandburg was in love with life. And women.

Jim was not stupid, but being fixated on someone that was so obviously unattainable was. He had tried everything he could think of to change his feelings. On the surface, he thought he'd been fairly successful.

But underneath? Jim found himself still totally wrapped up in Blair. When they were apart, he wondered if Blair was okay, if he was remembering to eat lunch, or if some punk student was giving him grief. When they were together, Jim fought constantly to keep from hovering. No matter how much his mind told him Blair Sandburg would never feel anything for him beyond the bounds of deep and abiding friendship, his heart refused to hear it.

It was driving him crazy. And there didn't seem to be anything he could do to change it.

Unless...

Yes, it was desperate. Yes, it pushed far beyond the envelope of acceptability. But Jim was desperate, and besides, he couldn't think of one other way to deal with the situation. Distracted beyond coping, confusion pushed him past the limits of his own boundaries, and Jim summarily rescinded one of the most important house rules: no sex in the loft.

More accurately, he'd tweaked the rule a little. Okay, a lot. The rule now read: Blair Sandburg can have sex in the loft. Anytime. The sooner the better. With anyone.

Except Jim Ellison.

No reason to mention the Ellison Exception Addendum to Sandburg, since such a possibility would never cross his mind in the first place. But it sure as hell crossed Jim's mind. A lot. And this was the only solution to the problem he could think of.

Blair Sandburg was a heterosexual horndog. Two, sometimes three nights a week, he'd do the meet and greet with his lady of the moment, then make his way home hours later, sleepy and smug and sated.

Jim knew all about it. Hell, he could write a thesis of his own about it. But it didn't stop him from imagining that Blair had that look on his face, had that lilt in his voice, had that smell clinging to him like a damned buck lure...for him. For Jim Ellison.

Right. Shit.

So, after considering the problem from the only possible point of view--his own--Jim had come up with the only available solution, again his own. He was obviously lusting after his Guide because the man seemed available. No flesh and blood evidence to the contrary. No in-your-face proof that Blair Sandburg was well and truly into women, and men-one man, one Jim Ellison-never stood a chance.

That had to change. Jim resolved to suffer through one last interminable night, then tell his partner in the morning. There shouldn't be any problem. Hell, Sandburg would probably thank him. Must get tiring having to crawl into strange beds night after night then crawl right back out a few hours later. Yes, Blair should be very grateful. He should fall at his roommate's feet. He should kiss his...Well, anyway, Blair would be glad. With that thought firmly in mind, Jim tossed and turned until he finally fell into a restless sleep.

The next morning was Saturday, and by the time Blair emerged fully dressed from the bathroom, Jim had had more than enough time to consider exactly what he was going to say.

"Ah, Chief, uhh..." Jim began glibly.

Yawning and scratching his belly, Blair stumbled into the living room and collapsed onto the couch near Jim. "Yeah?"

"So, uh...you got a hot date tonight?"

Crinkling his eyes as he studied the man next to him, Blair slowly nodded his head, "Well, yeah. I told you about it, remember? Me and Julie, dining and dancing?"

"Oh right, right. You did." Jim nodded. "So, what you got in mind for afterwards?"

"Afterwards?"

"Yeah, Sandburg. Afterwards. After the dining. After the dancing. After the ride in your luxurymobile back to her place. You know," Jim waggled his brows for effect. "Afterwards."

"Ohh...afterwards." Blair nodded a couple of times. "Why?"

"Why? Well, because I--I've been thinking Sandburg, and I haven't been fair to you. In fact, I've been totally unfair, and I want to do something about it tonight. Definitely, tonight. Is that clear?"

"Um...sure, Jim. Tonight. Right. Uh...what the hell are you talking about, man?"

Taking a deep breath, Jim said resolutely, "You should bring Julia home and entertain her here."

"Julie," Blair corrected absently. "So, since you've been so unfair to me, I'm supposed to bring Julie back here."

"Right."

"For...entertainment."

"Right."

"And during this...entertainment portion of the evening, you'll be...where? Did a stake-out come up or something?"

"No, no stake-out. Don't worry though, you'll never even know I'm here."

"Oh, I think I'll know." Fully alert now, Blair leapt to his feet and started pacing. "Jim, what the hell is going on?"

"Nothing is going on, Sandburg," Jim growled. "I just realized that I was being unfair to you when I demanded you keep your...activities, elsewhere. So, I want you to come back here. In fact, I insist."

"You insist. You want me and Julie to come back here and...and..." Blair stopped in mid-step, his mouth opening and closing like a fish drowning in air. "No way, man! This is some kind of a joke, right?"

"No joke, Sandburg," Jim was getting exasperated. He ground his teeth together in frustration as Blair resumed his pacing. Why couldn't the man just go along with it? "I'll be upstairs out of the way by ten o'clock. That early enough?"

Blair stopped pacing and stared down at his partner, hands on his hips. "No."

"Okay, how about nine o'clock?"

"Jim! No!"

"Sandburg--"

"Get real, man! I cannot take Julia to bed while you're lying upstairs listening to us! And don't bother telling me you won't listen, you won't be able to help it!"

"Julie."

"Huh?"

"You said her name was Julie."

Blair rolled his eyes and shrugged.

His Guide was being deliberately dense. Jim's voice rose. "Just forget about me, Sandburg. I want you to bring her back here and put it to her! Got that?"

Blair's eyes widened, and he leaned forward into Jim's space, peering at him like a scientist examining a vaguely unsavory parasite under a microscope. "Oh no. Uh-uh. I don't know what you're trying to say here, man, cause I know it can't be what it sounds like."

Jim struggled to keep his expression bland as Blair continued to study him. After a long moment, Blair straightened up with a loud, exaggerated sigh. The first glimmerings of anger colored his voice as he put his hands on his hips and demanded, "Jim Ellison, you tell me what's going on, and right now. Since when do you want me to spread my love life inside your pissing boundaries? It fucking sounds like you want me to have sex!"

"I do." Jim wondered if the fluttering he felt in the pit of his stomach was panic. This wasn't how Blair was supposed to be reacting at this point. Obviously, the man still didn't get it. "I mean, I do if you do...I mean.... Hell, Sandburg. Why do you have to make everything so damned complicated? Ever hear the old expression about looking a gift horse in the mouth? I'd have thought you'd jump at the chance to do the big seduction scene in the privacy of your own home."

"You are so not a horse, man, and contrary to rumors stating otherwise, I don't usually play to a fucking audience!"

Oh so that was it. Just a little performance anxiety. Jim had to admit it was gratifying to know that Blair was worried about living up to his Sentinel's expectations. Jim smiled reassuringly and said with a wink, "You just get her here, Chief. I'm sure nature and the famous Sandburg sex drive will take care of the rest."

Grabbing his head, Blair groaned and pulled at his hair hard enough for Jim to wince in sympathy. "You are not listening to me, Jim. I can't do it. I couldn't."

"Sure you can, Sandburg. Anytime, anywhere. That's you, right?" God, talk about low self-esteem. Jim would never have believed his Guide was so insecure.

Instead of answering that one, Blair abruptly turned his back on his partner and chuckled bitterly. "Oh yeah, I forgot. You're the man who thinks I'll hump a table leg."

Now he'd hurt Blair. Shit. It wasn't supposed to be this complicated.

Jim stood up. "C'mon, Chief. You're such a randy little guy-I just meant--well, I didn't mean that the way it sounded."

Blair rounded on Jim, eyes spitting fire. "Oh, really? Seems pretty obvious that's exactly what you meant! If you needed some pointers man, all you had to do was ask."

Huh? Jim stepped forward, forcing Blair to crane his neck to maintain eye contact. "Now just a minute, Sandburg. I do not need any pointers from you."

"Oh right, Jim. You just keep telling yourself that, cause it's either that or you've decided to become a fucking voyeur in your old age. Whatever." Blair threw his hands up in a gesture of surrender. "You want a fucking show tonight? There something I need to prove to you or something? You got it, man. You got it!"

Shit. Damn. Hell. Why the hell was he mad? More than mad, he was pissed. A pissed Guide was an unhappy Guide, and an unhappy Guide...well, it damn well couldn't be good.

Jim tried to backpedal. "Now, wait a minute, Chief. That's not what this is about..." His voice trailed off as he struggled to find words to once again explain just what he did mean.

"Then what?" Blair didn't look very eager to be placated. "Talk to me, Jim."

The only words that Jim could force past his lips were the wrong ones. He knew it, but they slipped out anyway. "You have to bring her here tonight and have sex with her."

Blair stood still, gazing at him with unfathomable eyes. "I have to. Just like that, and you won't even tell me why." He paused for the space of another heartbeat, then erupted into motion. "Fine. That's what you want, man, that's what you'll get." The words choked out as Blair groped blindly for his coat on the hook. "Anything to please you, Jim."

Turning at the door, he cast a last, lost look at Jim and said, "Jim, what is going on?" When there was no answer, he slammed out in a fury, shouting, "It's like talking to a wall!"

Jim waited for some word from Blair all day long. He never came into the station, he wasn't in his office, and his cell phone was turned off. He knew it was insane, that he'd pushed Blair too far. And for what? On the off chance that actually, concretely knowing Sandburg was with a woman would be some sort of magic cure-all for the goddamned hard-on he'd been walking around with for weeks?

It wouldn't work. The longer Jim thought about it, the more convinced he became that he'd made an ass of himself for nothing. What the hell had he been thinking? Being up close and personal with his senses on Sandburg in the throes of passion would only make Jim more aware of him than ever. It would only make him want him more.

The thoughts kept going around and around inside his aching head. Maybe, surely, Blair hadn't meant it. No way. Blair would never really fuck a woman in the loft, especially knowing that Jim knew that Blair knew...that Jim knew...

Groaning, Jim tried Blair's cell phone again. He had to stop him, had to talk to him, try to find a way to apologize and explain. He almost dropped his own phone when a tinny voice answered on the first ring. "Sandburg."

"Blair?" Smooth, Ellison. Of course, it was Blair. But why the fuck had he finally decided to answer the phone? Now that the moment had arrived, Jim realized he needed more time to think. He had to get this right.

"Jim?" When no answer was forthcoming, Blair asked more strongly, "Jim?"

"Yeah, yeah, it's me, Sandburg." Taking a deep breath, Jim bit the big one, "Listen, about this morning--"

"Oh that." Blair said airily. "Forget it. I didn't understand what you were trying to say, and I reacted badly."

Jim held the phone at arm's length, staring at it in shock. Sandburg sounded like Sandburg. But that wasn't right. Blair was mad, really mad. Jim considered. Okay, Blair didn't sound mad now, but still--he'd decided on a course of action and, by god, he was going to stick to it. Pressing doggedly on, Jim tried again, "It was my fault, I never should have--"

Blair cut him off again, "I said forget it!" he said sharply. Then the upbeat, happy note returned to his voice as he continued, "You're the best, man. It's not every man who would be so happy to stand by," Blair snickered a little. "Or in this case, since you'll be upstairs I guess it's lay by, while your roommate gets off. You're the best, Jim!" Blair said again.

What? God, no. "No! I-I, you were right. It was a stupid suggestion. The house rules..."

"--were obviously made to be broken! At least by the House Rule Maker." Blair voice shifted lower, it's sultry tones ripe with anticipation, "Tonight, I'm gonna have sex in my own home! And I will owe it all to you."

"Stop, wait!"

"Uh-oh, look at the time. I gotta run, Jim. And, listen, don't worry about fixing up the loft, I've been there most of the day, and I've got it all taken care of. Now, I'm counting on you to at least keep the old senses dialed down to 'normal' though, okay? Regular eavesdropping is one thing, but Sentinel eavesdropping, hearing every little grunt and slide...well, that'd just be too weird, man. You know?" Blair continued on, never giving Jim a chance to respond. "Oh, one more thing, instead of being upstairs by nine o'clock, better make it eight-thirty." Blair gave a sexy, little chuckle. "I need room to work."

As the connection died in his hand, Jim stared at the receiver in horrified dismay then slammed it down. Ignoring the eyes turned in his direction, he proceeded to kick his desk and punch impotently at Blair's empty chair, cursing all the while. "Goddamned, stupid, punk ass..." Of all the idiots he'd met in his life, Sandburg topped the list. Anyone with any sense would have known exactly what Jim was trying to say. Sandburg was just a...just a weinie. And, as usual, the man paying for Blair's weinie-ness was gonna be good old Jim.

He thought ahead to tonight, huddling upstairs like a hapless fly on the wall while his roomie was downstairs breathing heavy, oozing pheromones and spunk and moaning out his fate.

With one last slap to the side of his computer, Jim admitted that it probably wasn't Sandburg's fault. Okay. He was big enough to admit it. Slumping back in his chair, Jim knew that in reality, it was all his fault. Damnit! What the fuck was he going to do now?

By the time Jim pulled into his parking slot on Prospect, his emotions had gone full circle back to anger, and all of his senses were tightly locked at 'normal'. Blair had been right about one thing, there were some things he was better off not knowing.

Even then, he had to force himself to get out of the truck. He was maybe fifteen minutes late. He'd thought about staying away long enough that it would be over and done with. He'd even briefly considered checking into a motel somewhere and facing the fallout later. But, he was a man, goddammit! He could take anything Sandburg and his companion dished out and then some.

Still, Jim found his steps dragging as he bypassed the elevator and took the stairs. His thoughts were so garbled, they didn't even make sense to him. What if he walked right into the middle of it? What if...Shaking his head, Jim forced himself onward, ordering himself to get a grip. He truthfully didn't think Blair would start something knowing Jim was due any minute. The two of them were probably sitting there waiting for him, dammit. Blair probably wanted to introduce her to him first, for god's sake!

Reaching to the loft, Jim took a deep breath and turned the knob. Pushing the door open fully, Jim pasted what he hoped was a non-committal look on his face and stepped inside. And frowned.

The loft looked different. One of the couches had been moved to sit right in front of the fireplace. The only light in the room came from the fire that burned there, and squinting through the dimness, Jim was just able to see Blair sitting on the newly positioned couch, his head leaning back, as if he was staring into the flames. Alone? Was Blair alone? Without turning up his senses, Jim couldn't know for sure, but for a moment, Jim hoped he was, that this whole mess had been nothing but a crazy nightmare, and Blair was just sitting there asleep. But no, even as he allowed the false hope a few moments of life, Blair stirred and looked up.

He still didn't look angry, really. His eyes were glittering, even though his face was in shadow, and his breathing was a little fast, but he didn't seem--oh god, was he aroused? Then that must mean she had to be here somewhere. Jim looked around frantically.

Before he could ask or dial his senses back up, Blair gestured casually down onto the couch, below Jim's line of sight. "Jim. There you are. It's about time." Turning back around on the couch, Blair spoke softly, "Now you need to keep your part of this little deal. Go upstairs."

Jim's eyes widened. God, it was going to happen. Feeling goddamned awkward and pissed with himself for suggesting such a stupid-ass maneuver, and pissed with Blair for actually going through with it, and fucking aroused in spite of himself, Jim turned to go upstairs.

"And Jim?"

"Yeah?"

"Show time in fifteen minutes."

Jim clamped his mouth in a thin line and climbed swiftly. He had his clothes off and was lying stiffly in bed ten minutes later. He was so hard he hurt, and so tense he wondered idly if an embolism was about to put him out of his misery. Any minute now, something was going to happen downstairs. He found his hand drifting down to caress his erection and jerked it back quickly. No, dammit! It just wasn't right.

He seriously thought about curling up into a fetal ball and trying to induce a zone.

Zoning would be better than this. Anything would be better than this-this...waiting. This listening. He couldn't do this... The soft sound of rustling clothes cut across his thoughts like a razor. Fuck! His senses had dialed back up. He was doomed.

Jim sat up abruptly. The racing heart, the quickened breathing, the heady scents of arousal...it was just as bad as he'd feared, except... What the hell? There was only one heartbeat pumping down there. Blair was the only one down there. Sandburg was alone!

Okay, okay. He could figure this out. Fact: Blair was alone. Fact: He knew Jim was upstairs. So what the fuck was he doing?

As if he'd been reading Jim's thoughts, Blair murmured, "I know you can hear me, Jim. I want you to lie back and listen. You owe me that, man. Just listen." As he talked, the rustlings continued. "You really did a number on me this morning, you son of a bitch. I was furious with you. When I left here, all I wanted was to hurt you back. I thought about making you lie up there and listen while I jerked off. I thought about leaving." Blair's voice trailed off for a moment then resumed, stronger than before. "But I never, for one second, even considered having sex with Julie. The first thing I did when I left here this morning was call and break our date. I wouldn't do that to her, man. I wouldn't do it to me, and I wouldn't do it to you. How could you think I was that callous?"

The heavy thuds of two shoes hitting the wall were counterpoint to Blair's voice, staccato in its anger. "I mean, shit, Jim, you've known me for three years now, and you still don't know one damn thing about me!" His voice rose. "I do not go after everything female. I do not fuck around. And I damn well do not hump table legs!" He was all but shouting now.

Jim heard a soft chink of metal on wood as one last article of clothing (pants?) hit the floor. With a sigh, Blair continued. "I may have been like that a long time ago, but not anymore. In fact, I haven't really done that for years. As you would know if you'd ever bothered to pay attention." He hesitated as if he were screwing up his courage. "You know what I do now, Jim? What I've been doing for months? Nothing. Nothing and No One. I got real tired of settling for second best, man. Everything, everyone...it's all been just marking time."

Blair's voice seemed impossibly deep. "I've been waiting for you, Jim. To make some move, some sign." He was quiet for a moment, then asked softly, "Some people would call what happened this morning a sign. I would. Would you?"

Hearing the soft slap of bare feet, Jim knew Blair was standing at the foot of the stairs, speaking up into the shadowy loft. "It finally occurred to me what you were trying to do: aversion therapy, desensitization. What was the sex supposed to be, Jim? A flick of the rubber band?" Humor rippled through his voice. "Man, who took all the psychology classes here, anyway?" His voice lowered to a throaty rasp. "It's not gonna work, Jim. You're never gonna be cured of me. Just like I'm never gonna be satisfied with anybody but you."

Jim's own heart was pounding so furiously in his ears, he almost missed the soft whisper. "Jim?"

Slowly, like a man waking from a prolonged sleep, Jim Ellison rose to his feet and looked over the railing. Blair's nude body was rimed in light, the shadows dancing across his face.

He was right. Jim would never be free of him, and he didn't want to be. "Blair," he whispered.

The man below smiled and raised his hand, "C'mere, Jim."

Silently, Jim went down the stairs, not stopping until he was standing in front of his Guide. "I'm sorry," he whispered again.

Blair closed the distance between them with one little step. "Yeah. Well, we need to talk about that some more." Blair reached out a finger and tentatively ran it across the top of one broad shoulder. "But later, okay? I'm kinda in the middle of something right now."

Looking down at the strong erections bobbing between them, Jim smiled too. "So I see. Thank God. Thank you." He threaded his fingers through Blair's tousled curls.

"You're welcome. From both of us." Blair's lips curved up in a winsome grin as a bubble of laughter escaped. His hands were suddenly resting comfortably atop Jim's hips.

"Oh yeah?" Jim let the lightening of his heart come out in playfulness. "And since when are you the official spokesperson?"

Leaning forward, Blair stretched up and nipped at the end of Jim's nose. "We have a deal. I try to be a good boy, and in return..."

"In return?"

"I get to stay close to you." At Jim's sharp intake of breath, Blair suddenly looked serious. "Is that right, Jim? Do I get to stay close to you?"

"Yes."

"Oh god..."

Jim had to chuckle. "I thought you said you and he had this all worked out."

Relaxing a little, Blair smiled back. "Oh yeah." He leaned into Jim's embrace and lifted his face.

Jim's hands had been burrowing through Blair's hair as they talked. With a firm tug, Jim tilted his head to one side and leaned down, "You are a nut," he breathed as his lips touched Blair's.

The kiss wasn't anything like he'd expected. It wasn't soft. It wasn't sweet. It was stone and fire. It was two hard male bodies melting in the heat. It was two heartbeats pounding in his ears as Jim pulled Blair tighter against him, then tighter still. He wanted this, he wanted all of this, all of Blair. And Blair seemed more than willing to give it to him.

Unwilling to break their connection, Jim took the simple expedient of lifting Blair just off the floor and moving them both to the couch in front of the fireplace. A few maneuvers later, Blair was stretched out on the couch with Jim full length on top of him.

When Jim reached down and gathered Blair's cock to rest snug against his own, they both began to move with hard, panting thrusts that knew little of rhythm but much of need. Need. Jim needed Blair so much. And it felt so good. It would have been easy to give himself over to the sensations, but Jim had had enough of not saying what needed to be said. There was something Blair had to know now, before it happened, so there could be no mistake about words uttered in the throes of passion.

"Blair...Chief."

"Shhh....not now, Jim. I'm busy." Blair's response was to thrust a little harder.

Smiling at the beloved face beneath him, Jim tried again. "Blair, I have to tell you something."

The effort to stop visible on his expressive face, Blair unsquinched his eyes and blinked up at his partner. Without even a hint of impatience, he drew a steadying breath and said, "Okay. Tell me."

Without hesitating, Jim looked into Blair's eyes and said, "I love you. I just want you to know that. I think I have always loved you."

"Oh, Jim." Blair rubbed a finger across the fine brow. "I love you too. Always have, always will. Always."

With a soft sigh, Jim lowered his head to the broad shoulder beneath him, "Blair."

Running his hands soothingly down Jim's broad back, Blair suddenly ground his hips upward savagely. "It's time, man. I believe we had a date scheduled so you could sense me getting off."

Raising his head in dismay, Jim started to protest, but at his guide's head shake, he stayed silent.

"This is it, man. See me, Jim. This is how I look when I make love to you." He ran his tongue down Jim's straining neck. "Feel me. This is how I feel when I make love to you."

With a groan, Jim took Blair's mouth and plundered it with his own. Wrenching his mouth away, Blair gasped out, "Taste me, Jim. Hear me." His thrusts became frantic. "Oh...oh...God! Smell me, Jim...smell us. This is how it's always gonna be when we make love. All of me. All of you. It's all here, Jim. It's all here!" Blair came with a shout, Jim tumbling helplessly in his wake.

Sometime later, when the fire in the fireplace died down and the two men in front of it stirred, Jim began to laugh. "You know, Chief," he pulled the tousled head down to rest against his shoulder, "You really had me worried there."

"Serves you right, man." Blair punched Jim lightly on the chest.

"Yeah," Jim agreed ruefully. "I guess it was a little like trying to talk to a wall."

"Yep," Blair agreed readily. "But luckily, I remembered that every wall has it chinks. I just happened to stumble on to yours."

Rested, content, and happier than he had ever hoped he would be, Jim tugged gently on Blair's auburn curls. "That you did, Chief. That you did."

The end

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