Lesson of Silence - Part One Classroom by Legion
 

Blair Sandburg slammed through the door of the loft, threw his back pack and jacket in the general direction of the coat hooks and stormed into the kitchen. All during this, he was mumbling under his breath, "Why didn't you just shut up, all you had to do was close your mouth and be *quiet;* you could have gotten everyone killed, not just your own stupid self...." His words faded to indistinct sounds and even the Sentinel coming in behind him could not make them out.

He shot a pained glance at the things on the floor, but wisely didn't make an effort to pick them up. Calling attention to breaking the rule would only give Blair more ammunition for his litany of self-abuse. Determinedly, he went about his 'getting home from work' routine, keeping one ear on his partner. When the anger faded into sadness, he came up behind Blair and surrounded him in an enduring hug.

Turning in his lover's arms, Blair beat his head rhythmically against the sturdy chest. "Why, Jim, why? Why did I have to keep talking?"

Jim burrowed his hands into the hair at the back of Blair's head and began to dig gently onto the skull. "'Cause it's always been your best defense, 'cause it kept his attention on you and let most of the class slip away, 'cause talking is as natural as breathing to you. And because it wouldn't have mattered one way or another, and you know it."

"Jim...." Almost reluctantly Blair relaxed into the scratching stimulation of his scalp.

"Listen to me, lover. When someone is balancing on the edge, anything, *anything,* can topple them. The student sitting next to them tapped a pencil when thinking; the lunch lady in the cafeteria didn't give him as big a portion as everybody else."

"Or a teacher lectured too much. Greg must have complained to me a thousand times he'd rather learn from the book. I took it that he didn't like making class and dismissed it. Someone could have died because I treated his complaint so casually!" Blair moved restlessly in the circle of his lover's arms, but Jim moved the soothing sensations down into the smaller man's back.

"He kept shouting over and over for me to shut my mouth, and like an *idiot* I kept trying to calm him down."

"Blair, the kid was waving a semi-automatic around, and every bit of training and instinct you've ever had for dealing with crisis kicked in. And He Didn't Shoot Anyone! He could have. He might have, if it had been any other teacher but the one on campus *everyone* knows can keep his head. That might even have been why it was you - the tiny bit of rational mind he had left trying to save him and the innocent."

Considering, Blair let his lover take more of his weight. "He should have, shouldn't he? Maybe it *was* a call for help." Willingly taking a more charitable view of Greg Talbot's actions, Blair sighed deeply, and gave himself over to Jim's caresses. "He's right, though," he said reflectively, after a minute. "I do talk a lot."

"Mmm, hmm," Jim agreed.

In mock outrage, Blair leaned back enough to glare at his partner. No one did deadpan better than Jim, and for a moment Blair wasn't sure how Jim meant him to take the easy agreement. A glint of light in the loving blue eyes betrayed the teasing though, and Blair impulsively put on a mournful face.

"You must get so tired of listening to me. And you don't have much choice but to hear me, do you? I *am* so sorry, babe."

"Welllll," Jim said grudgingly. "It's ok. We all have our faults. For instance, I've been told I'm a little obsessive about being neat."

"True, true. I'm almost never on time for things." Jim's hands had never stopped making their magic, and Blair decided to add his own. Teasingly he made tiny rubbing motions just over the swell of Jim's buttocks.

"I never know how to introduce you." Jim dropped his head to Blair's shoulder and nipped at it through the shirt.

"I can be somewhat impulsive." Blair's mouth was in a better position for biting, and Jim made a startled mewl of pleasure when his nipple was attacked.

"I can be one cold son of a bitch, sometimes," he muttered, then covered Blair's lips with his own. He tasted only briefly, and started walking his partner backward toward the couch. "In fact, Teach, I don't see how either one of us can possibly put up with the other. It must have something to do with the mind-blowing sex."

"Nawww." Blair yanked Jim's shirt out of his pants, and tried to work his fingers into the waist-band. "It was desperation, man. Who else would have us?"

"Never know what they're missing, babe, never know." Jim toppled him onto the couch and covered him. Words were forgotten by both, and Jim sincerely thought the whole matter silenced as well.
 
 

During the next few days he realized *he* may have let the issue go, but *Blair* was becoming obsessed by it. The efforts he made to subdue himself, to keep his tongue in check, were painful to watch. Over and over Blair tried to stay quiet; over and over he failed.

Finally, after watching him practically snub Brown to keep from talking to him, Jim sat his partner down at their desk and pinned him with a hard look.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, Sandburg, but I think you hurt Brown's feelings."

Guiltily, Blair looked after the departing detective, then down at the top of the desk. "Damn, damn, damn," he said tiredly.

"Talbot really got to you, didn't he?" Jim asked more gently.

"Yes, no, yes." Blair bounced out of his chair and perched on the edge of the desk instead. "I mean, he didn't get to me, but what he said, it hit a nerve, you know? It's like, there was something there for me to hear, but I didn't because I was so busy trying to get *him* to listen to *me*. It's been bothering me that I didn't see your view of it that he was asking for help in a way. Hey, I'm supposed to be the Shaman of the city, right? What's a shaman for but to help, but I didn't, I just made it worse for him. Maybe if I *had* listened, he wouldn't be in that mental hospital now."

"Hey, hey," Jim interrupted, "slow down, slow down. Let the dam drain, not break. Taking a breath once in a while isn't bad, either."

Inhaling hugely, Blair grinned, then became serious again. "There *is* more. He made me realize I've gotten so involved in what's going on out here" - Blair waved expressive hands at the world in general - "I've neglected what's going on in here." He laid both hands over his chest. "I'm not growing, Jim. I'm just rushing through life like every suit that I've ever felt pity for."

Slowly, Jim nodded not really understanding, but wanting his partner to know he was paying attention. Reaching to take one of Jim's wrists between his thumb and forefinger, Blair tugged, once, and said, "In the past, when I've felt like this, I've taken off for a while or looked for a teacher to stay with until I had what I needed."

Closing his eyes briefly, Jim sat straighter in his chair and sighed. "Do I need to ask for some vacation time, take a leave of absence or give Simon my resignation?"

Quiet for longer than he had managed that week, Blair at last said in a matter-of-fact voice, "James Ellison, the only thing keeping me from kissing you senseless right here and now is that I don't want Rafe to win his bet with Simon on which one of us will forget and 'plant a wet one' on his partner."

Jim gave a bark of laughter and asked, "How did you know about that? I've been thinking Simon made it in my hearing to make sure we didn't! And don't change the subject; you are not leaving without me."

"Try and make me," Blair said, smiling. He looked down at his shoes, then back up at the other man. "Honestly, Jim, I don't want to go anywhere. For the first time in my life, picking up and taking off isn't even vaguely appealing. In fact, it hurts to try to think about it. But I gotta do something, babe. I gotta, and it always worked for me before."

After a minute, Jim said thoughtfully, "A teacher to stay with, huh?" Apparently deep in thought, he stared away, for once not even admiring his lover. "Can you do something for me, here, Sandburg?" He put up one hand to stop his partner. "Think about it before you promise, ok? " He paused, forming his words carefully. "You're not having any luck with doing this on your own, right? So it won't matter if you give it a rest. Let it go, for a week, that's all I'm asking, and let me work on a plan. If you don't like what I come up with - and I do have a specific idea, I'm just not sure it'll work - we can talk about it some more. Hey, maybe if you're not trying so hard, you'll find your way without help."

Though Blair's promise still came almost immediately, Jim acknowledged it and deliberately shook himself from the memories that were taking him too far away from his partner. He pulled out the file on their latest case, and distracted both of them with work.

Blair never really forgot the discussion, he did shove it far enough into the back of his mind that Jim's request, less than a week later, to plan for long weekend away caught him off guard. He started to wheedle, half teasingly, to get more than that from his partner. To his surprise, Jim looked decidedly uneasy, but simply repeated that he should get Friday afternoon until Monday morning free.

Whether it was part of Jim's plan or not, his absolutely serious treatment of the topic made Blair stop and look what it was *exactly* he wanted. What he saw inside himself was muddled enough he almost asked Jim to call it off. How could he learn anything of importance in this state? Only the fear of the consequences of his own dissatisfaction kept him from it.

Just after lunch on Friday, he juggled his keys, pack, and groceries at the door of the loft, mumbling under his breath about trying to do too much at once. Jim opened the door for him, stepping outside to do it, briefly kissing his lover as he did. Instead of letting Blair in, Jim put the food just inside the door, took Blair's pack from him, and laid a finger over Blair's lips.

"Just listen to me for a second, ok? From now until Sunday night, you're not to speak to me or anyone else. The phone has been unplugged; I've told the people at the university and department we're out of town. You're not going to leave the loft or answer the door if someone comes here looking for us. It's going to be just you and me, and I'll talk to you as little as possible to help. If you're having second thoughts about silence, or don't want to try to learn with me, tell me now."

Blair shut his eyes, took several deep, sighing breaths, and mutely nodded. Jim drew him inside and shut the door. Reaching into Blair's jeans and coat, he took out the wallet and IDs. "Undress," he ordered shortly. Blair started to grin, but Jim didn't even notice; he was too busy going through the wallet. "I'm putting your college ID, money, and a cell in a bag with some clothes here at this door. Department ID, credit cards, my phone and clothes at the fire escape. Driver's license, my credit cards, cash, clothes, and a throw-away cell at the back door. If something happens - and you've been my partner long enough to know that *something* could - run! Get out the nearest door, grabbing a pack as you go. Better to get arrested for indecent exposure than get killed trying to get dressed before leaving. It's just a precaution, babe, but one I'll feel better if we take."

Noticing Blair's dismay, Jim brushed his knuckles over the smaller man's cheek. "I don't really expect any problems, but I need you to feel comfortable and safe. The idea is that you don't go without clothes often - I know Cascade's not warm enough for you! - and simply being nude will help remind you to be quiet. Every time you notice your bare skin, you'll think again about *why*. Reinforcement, right? Don't worry, I've cranked the heat up and we can always light a fire.

"Blair, quiet can soak into you, make you *want* to be quiet. That's why no phones, no visitors, no leaving the loft. I don't think we should watch the TV, or listen to music. Paperwork, reading, chores. That's all. Meditation for you, if you want, but no listening aids.

At last smiling a bit, Jim repeated his caress. "A good teacher told me once that rewards are essential in the learning process. So, as long as you're not talking, I'll be making a special effort to touch you. Neck rubs, holding hands, snuggling, all you want. Unless you talk. The first time, I leave the loft for fifteen minutes and no touching for a while after that. Next time, half an hour. Third time, an hour. There won't be a fourth time, Blair. If you can't make it through to Sunday with three chances, we're trying to do something un-natural to you, and I won't be a party to that. Understand? Oh, and no loving until Sunday night. That's the prize for making it. I've got something special in mind if you do; we wait until Monday at least if you don't. Any problems with any of this?"

By way of an answer, Blair took a pen from his pocket and scribbled on a scrap taken from another. //How will being quiet *here* help me be quiet out there?//

Nodding as he read, Jim looked up. "Save the notes for important stuff like this. Or you'll just be substituting one kind of talking for another. As for helping... once you know what it *feels* like, babe, all the way down to the pit of you, reaching for it when you want it gets easier. If this works, you'll get a case of laryngitis for a few days, if you still feel the need to try it out in public."

Fighting a feeling of anxiety and foolishness, Blair began to slowly strip off his clothing, handing the articles to Jim as he did. To his relief, his partner dealt with it perfunctorily, letting him know only with a gentle leer at the end that he wasn't impervious to the occasion.

Later that evening, after dinner and clean up, Blair sat at the table, obstensively working on his laptop, but really thinking about how easy it had been so far. Part of it was Jim's own stillness; he was at ease with the hush in the loft that spoke of long familiarity. Brow wrinkled in thought, Blair wondered *when* Jim had learned that skill to this extent and why.

With a hint of jealousy, he thought about how Jim was using pleasure as a tool, and if who had taught him had used the same one. It certainly worked well. Along with his customary pats, kisses, nibbles, and strokes, Jim had kept some internal schedule and would every so often do something extra nice. The first time, they had been getting laundry ready, when Jim had suddenly come up behind him and nuzzled his way down the center of his back to the top of his cleft. Too abrupt to truly be erotic, Jim's controlled touch made it sensuous to the point of goosebumps, just thinking about it. As quickly as he'd begun, he'd stopped, and gone back to sorting clothes, leaving Blair happily -and mutely - anticipating his next 'reward.'

So far, that had included having his hands massaged with lotion until he thought he would melt into the couch, the same done to his feet a few hours later, and having his face playfully licked from brow to chin. //If nothing else,// Blair reflected, smiling, //I'll come away from this weekend feeling absolutely loved and cherished. As if I don't already.// With that thought, he mentally dived into the work scrolling up on his screen.

Less than fifteen minutes later, so absorbed in his work he wasn't thinking about anything but, he exclaimed, "Oh, shit, man, what are you doing here?" Even as he heard his own voice, he flinched, and looked up at Jim. Without a word himself, Jim stood, came over to kiss him sadly, and left, looking at his watch as he did.

Blair spent *those* fifteen minutes hurling himself around the room, alternating between wordlessly reaming himself out and mentally quoting every cliche on patience he could come up with - in several languages. When Jim let himself back in, Blair stalked over to his lover, turned and presented his backside for kicking. Jim kissed it, turned Blair around, kissed his mouth, and murmured, "You *can* do this, Chief. Don't let a slip or two make you give up."

Anything else would have angered Blair or made him resentful. Jim's simple confidence in him was inarguable and irresistible. Blair nodded, looking thoughtful and leaning into a quick hug. Still thoughtful he went over to stand in front of his computer, studying it intently. Then, with fast, sure movements he shut it down and put it away for the rest of the weekend.

On impulse Blair went into the kitchen and began a baking and cooking spree to fill the freezer and fridge with meals for the next week. Almost obsessively, he cleaned as he went, trying hard to leave the kitchen spotless, even as he worked. In understanding, Jim kept back, giving him room to work off his frustrations creatively, until he caught the smaller man putting pepper into the carrot bread he was making.

At that point he gently, insistently pulled Blair into the bath, gave him a fast shower, and towed him upstairs to bed. Blair stood numbly by the bed as Jim crawled in, and watched his lover made himself comfortable on his stomach. Grateful at the unspoken offer, he crawled onto the bigger man's back, nestled his head between the strong shoulder blades, and fell almost instantly asleep.

He woke slowly, coming up to consciousness with sensual laziness and an awareness of Jim kissing his mouth in tiny, lip hugging pecks. It was all the reminder he needed of their agenda, and smiled dreamily not only his understanding, but his appreciation, of Jim's methods. They stayed that way a long time, trading loving touches, until Blair woke all the way up and started becoming aroused.

Reluctantly, letting it show in every movement, Jim went down to make breakfast. From all the sampling the night before, Blair didn't feel very hungry and instead went into his old room to pick at the mess there. Before much was done, feeling restless, he went into the living room and cleared a space for yoga, finding the stretches and postures surfacing easily despite being seldom used. Jim watched him from the table where he was doing some paperwork, careful not to disturb Blair's concentration.

Enjoying the glow from the exercise, Blair laid on the fleece blanket Jim had left in front of the fire to read. Twice during the morning, Jim came over to him: once to simply lie close beside him and smile at him as he read, and once to run butterfly caresses over Blair's arm and shoulder until he was shivering in reaction. Jim left him alone until lunchtime after that, then, in violation of at least five of the house rules, he set up a smorgasbord deli lunch on the coffee table. Grinning broadly, he created a finger sandwich from the meats, relishes, and condiments and hand fed it to his lover.

Finding an appetite, Blair ate it daintily, then made his own tidbit to feed to Jim. They tried to out do each other in their concoctions, then wandered off into daring each other with mugging faces and sour expressions into trying odd combinations. Blair piled one with every spicy, hot item he could find, held it up for Jim, and nearly died from stifled guffaws when Jim's eyes started watering before it even got close enough for a bite.

Blair took a bite, fanned at his face, then took another with obvious relish. The envy on Jim's face caught at him, and he felt a twinge of shame. Before he could do anything though, Jim looked sneaky - then leaned in to dart his tongue lightly over Blair's lips. He smacked his own in satisfaction, and Blair knew that he had gotten just enough of the flavor to be able to enjoy it.

That act of sharing led him into making his next mistake. Heart full from being able to give Jim such a simple thing, he cupped his lover's face in his palm and said, "I love you, you know." It was such an honest error, it wasn't until Jim pulled away, eyes pained, that he realized what he'd done. And what he'd done to his partner.

Jim was going to have to punish him for expressing his love, and he knew without thinking that the other man was considering letting it slide, pretending that this kind of slip was all right. The teacher in Blair knew that letting it go would undo what he was - what *they* were working on. The lover didn't ever want those words to be less than a joy for both of them.

Rigidly, Jim stood, ostentatiously checking his watch, and left the loft. Blair had never respected or admired him more.

Determined to not let him down, Blair folded into lotus, put his breathing into pattern, and began to meditate to find silence within himself. To his utter surprise, he slid under almost immediately, and lost all outer awareness as he looked at his life from the perspective of an observer.

At some point he became distantly aware that Jim had let himself back into the loft. He processed the thought, let it go, and went back to his review, seeing parts of himself he'd never noticed before. Eventually, he could no longer sustain it, and he regretfully drifted back up, carrying a deep peace with him. Jim was at the table, cleaning his guns, and Blair joined him, sitting opposite to watch.

Though they exchanged a quick smile - Blair's serene and loving, Jim's questioning and worried - Jim's precise actions didn't stop. Blair crossed his arms, put his chin down on them and let his eyes follow the deft, practiced movements of Jim's fingers. Occasionally, he glanced at his lover's face, and it struck him that it was as meditative as he own surely was when in lotus. The deeply ingrained pattern of dismantling, cleaning, reassembling allowed Jim's mind the same freedom to roam as any breathing exercise. The insight seemed important, and Blair stored it for deeper thought, later.

Why would Jim feel the need for that now? With the clarity of meditation still with him, he realized it was because Jim didn't like what they were doing. It had upset him from the first, but Blair had not paid attention to it, thinking Jim's objection was based on how it affected *them.* Even the 'safety net' of supplies at each door showed his lover's discomfort, though he blamed it on practicality. There had to be something behind that, going deep.

When the guns were done, Jim rose to put away the tools and weapons, leaving Blair at the table. He went into the bathroom after that, and while he was occupied, Blair wrote two sentences on two pieces of paper. Carrying a hairbrush, Jim came back into the room and sat on the couch, waving the hairbrush in invitation.

Eagerly Blair crossed to sit on the floor in front of the bigger man, back to him. With long, even movements Jim ran the brush through Blair's curls. Neck loose, letting his head rock with the action, Blair closed his eyes and let his lover minister to him. It was hard to say who was more relaxed by this activity; by the time Jim was done they had all but melded into each other.

As Jim put the brush aside, Blair took his first note from under the couch cushion and gave it to him. //Who taught you silence, Pet?//

It had always been difficult for Jim to shut Blair out from his inner thoughts; this day's closeness made it impossible. Struggling, he tried anyway, looking away from Blair to fix his vision on something a long time away. Not having any of it, Blair twisted so that he was using one of Jim's legs for a backrest, and tapped one knee until Jim turned back to him.

"The first words I remember my father saying to me was 'shut up.'" Jim blurted abruptly. "I grew up being told constantly to be quiet, hush, keep my mouth shut. The worst beating I ever got in my life was right after my mother.... stupid, stupid, stupid... I had to keep asking where she was, what happened to her. Not long after that, the old man accused me of doing something I hadn't done. Gods, I don't even remember what, Chief. I denied it. He.. we.. I'd tell him I didn't do it, and he'd hit me, tell me if I couldn't tell the truth to keep my lying trap closed.

"When he finally threw me in my room, I cried myself to sleep, swearing I wouldn't say another word to the bastard. And I didn't. Not to him. Not to anybody. For a very, very long time. I don't know how long... I was only a kid, no measure of time except the school year. I know one of my teachers went to my father about it. Know what he said? 'He'll talk when he has something to say.'

"Right about that, I guess. Couple of kids picked a fight with another, then blamed the kid they were hitting up on when the teacher broke them up. Man, that made me so mad... I went up to her, tugged on her elbow to get her attention, and said, 'they're lying.' It *must* have been a long time since I spoke; she looked startled as all hell."

Jim was back to looking away, lost in memories. "You have no idea how much of an effort it took to say those two words. That's why I know the quiet can move into you, mark you."

Rubbing odd patterns into Jim's jeans covered leg, Blair had eyes only for the man above him. He had nodded occasionally during Jim's monologue, heart aching for the little boy he had been, but not really surprised. He had expected a tale of this sort. The telling was for Jim's sake, not his. His purpose was to get to the next question he'd written. When Jim came back to him, smiling crookedly and self-consciously at showing this part of himself, Blair gave him the other slip of paper. //Why did you agree to teach me?//

His smile turning happier, Jim folded the paper several times, and answered honestly, "Because of Incacha." He left it at that, smile growing as Blair pummeled his brain for a way to get more from the other man. Finally, taking pity on his mate, he went on. "Once, before the tribe had truly accepted me, Incacha took me into the jungle, and asked me to watch over him. And not to interfere unless his life was in imminent danger.

"Chief, I remember so clearly how tired and ragged he looked. Things had been going bad for the tribe; taking me in was stretching their patience; backing me was testing his place with them. Feeling guilty over that, as much as anything else, was why I agreed. I made myself comfortable and waited to see what he'd do.

"All he did was pick a place, at random as far as I could tell, and stand there. For almost twenty hours. He didn't talk, he didn't move, he damn near didn't breath. It was like he became part of the jungle. Wild things moved around him like he was a tree or bush. Once a huge snake crawled right over his foot, and he never even blinked. Then, just like that, he stretched hugely, and walked back to the village.

"The thing is, Blair, was the difference in him. There was a peace in his eyes so deep any one less would have drowned in it. He *glowed* with it, and it was damn near contagious because the entire village mellowed out.

"If that's what waiting for you at the end of this weekend, I want you to have it. Dealing with a few bad memories, well, you're worth it. I know how important this kind of mental 'stretching' is to you, Chief. That makes it important to me."

Blair bumped his head onto Jim's leg, glad for once for the restraint of speechlessness. He truly didn't know what to say to that revelation. Being on the receiving end of Jim's largesse was nothing new to him; having no way to express it was.

No way? Words weren't the only way the two of them had to communicate; not by a long shot. Turning his face into the fabric of the leg he was resting against, Blair bit the seam of Jim's pants. He felt Jim's shiver, and the other man tried to shift the limb away. Blair bit again, higher up. Shifting again, Jim started to stand, but was held in his seat by a quick series of nips that ran up to his crotch.

Capturing his head, Jim held Blair in place and scooted as far back into the couch as he could. "Hey, no sex til tomorrow, remember?" he scolded gently.

Blair rose on his knees in front of him. Pointing at himself, he shook his head 'no.' Pointing at Jim, he nodded, 'yes.'

"No, you can't have sex but I can?" Jim asked, one eyebrow going up. "That's not right."

Pantomiming pleading, with big expressive eyes, Blair managed to communicate with gestures that he wanted to, very badly, and would consider it a 'reward.' Almost laughing from Blair's antics, Jim shook his head repeatedly until Blair wrapped both arms around his waist. Taking unfair advantage of Jim's weak spot, Blair fastened his lips onto one shy nipple.

Shamelessly capitulating, Jim shoved his chest into that caress, holding the back of Blair's head as he did. Not giving up his targets, Blair worked both taunt nubs, first through the shirt, and then on bare flesh as he ripped the material away. Under him, he could feel Jim's hard-on rhythmically digging into his stomach, the wetness from the pre-cum soaking through the jeans and into his skin.

Holding himself in check, Blair tackled the zipper of Jim's pants, then pulled them off, nearly tangling them on his shoes in his single-minded pursuit of a naked Jim. When they were gone, he urged Jim to put his feet on the coffee table while he knelt between his legs. Swirling his hands over Jim's ankles, up his legs, and onto his hips, Blair used the most fleeting contact he could manage. Knowing Jim would dial up his sense of touch to feel the sensations better, he continued up the firm body, watching Jim toss his head on the back of the couch as he did. Bringing it back down, he opened Jim's thighs as widely as possible with a quick, hard push and dropped his face into the valley revealed there.

By-passing the leaking cock and tight balls, he went directly for the hungry portal to Jim's body, drilling in his tongue hard. With Jim's sense of touch up so high, Blair couldn't even begin to imagine what it felt like to the bigger man, but he loved the way Jim bucked up, shouting, muscles quivering, as he took the reaming.

Hips rising to meet the thrusts, Jim clenched the little hole around the moist invader, and Blair dug in harder, letting his teeth score the puckered rim. Above him he could hear grunts, partial sounds of pleasure, his name groaned. The love-noises burned Blair, but he held his own needs at bay, wanting to unselfishly give as much as Jim could handle.

Abandoning the wet pucker, Blair switched to almost imperceptible sweeps of his tongue over the entire area. "Good." and "Please." came almost constantly from his lover as he slithered moist trails up the length of the hard cock, into the pubic curls, over the balls and soft flesh of the perineum. Again, abruptly, he tackled the musky pucker, actually biting on it before plunging in as far as he tongue could reach.

"BLAIR!" It took most of his strength to keep those bucking hips in place, but Blair held Jim down firmly. He felt, rather than saw, Jim start pumping his cock roughly into his fist, and timed his own thrusts to match. Jim brought up one foot to rest on the edge of the couch, heel meeting buttock, letting Blair probe deeper into him. Wanting to get even deeper, he replaced his tongue with two fingers so quickly there was almost no transition. Blair sat back on his own heels to watch as he found the hard gland deep in the channel and massaged it.

Wailing, Jim fountained his climax into the air, spattering his stomach and chest with semen. Blair finger-fucked him as long as he continued to milk the orgasm, smiling in a self-satisfied way he wouldn't have recognized if he'd seen. Jim's hand stopped after another gentle squeeze. He pried open an eye and smiled at the vision between his legs. With a deep sigh, he went completely limp, and fell asleep.

Blair watched for a few minutes, trying to imprint on his soul the image of a man completely open and trusting, holding nothing back from his mate. Without a single doubt in his mind that *no one* had ever seen Jim like this, Blair went into the bathroom for a cloth to wash his lover up. After finishing, he positioned the bigger man, with some groggy help, so that he was laying full length on the couch, grabbed a blanket from the back of it, and crawled up beside him to nap.
 
 

Early Sunday evening found them in much the same position: Jim stretched out, Blair tucked up alongside between him and the back of the couch. He'd not gotten around to putting a shirt that day, and Blair's head was resting on the bare hollow of his shoulder. He had also never gotten around to dispensing any 'treats' to Blair. They had hardly seemed necessary.

All day long they had been drawn to each other, separating long enough for some task, but coming back together again as inevitably as steel and magnet, to touch or hold. Even during Blair's yoga exercises, Jim had been unable to keep from running a light hand over one long line of muscle as it flexed and bent.

Eventually they gave up trying and retired to the couch on the pretext of reading. Jim kept up the facade and would actually turn a page once in a while. Blair was content to stare off into space, seeming to Jim both very inwardly focused and totally aware of him. Once, without being told, Blair had reached up to turn a page for him when Jim's free hand had been occupied by toying with a lock of Blair's hair.

To Jim, it was if Blair had literally become an extension of his skin; when they were not touching, he missed the contact physically. Being in such close contact, becoming aroused periodically was unavoidable, but both chose to ignore their erections, letting them wane. Anticipation for the weekend's finale was rising; like a swell of water in the ocean heralding a monstrous wave. Jim was determined to let it build until neither of them could stand the wait any longer.

Kissing Blair's brow, he knew that it wasn't necessary. He was fairly certain that what he had planned would be at least as spectacular as the time Blair handcuffed them together. But it was a tasty spice to flavor the day, and he felt himself harden again at the thought. Looking down as Blair looked up, they traded tender leers, and Blair wiggled his own hardening penis onto Jim's body. Jim's smile grew wider; on one hand, the entire day had practically been foreplay. On the other, actual foreplay wasn't such a bad way to make it through to bedtime.

He tangled his hand deeply into the hair on the nape of Blair's neck and pulled back, intending to cover his lover's mouth with his own. Before lips could touch, he yanked his head up, hearing the one voice he had hoped not to hear for a least a few more months. Blair was so in tune with him that he turned to look at the door as Jim focused on it, silently asking 'who?'

"Naomi. You'd better run upstairs and get dressed while I let her in." Jim's voice was heavy from disuse - and disappointment. Disengaging himself from Blair's arms, he stood stiffly and reached deep inside himself to muster some welcome for Blair's mom. To his surprise, Blair dashed to the door and planted himself in front of it, setting the safety chain in place as he did.

"Blair, we can't keep your mom out. We'd worry her." Jim had no idea why he was arguing with his partner about this, but felt obligated to do so.

Vigorously shaking his head no, Blair turned and made shooing noises at the steps coming down the hallway. He tapped Jim's watch, drew a circle on the face to indicate the passing of time, and then mimed happily greeting his mom. "You want me to tell her to come back tomorrow? I don't know..."

Hurriedly, Blair stepped forward and hugged the other man tightly, branding his waning erection onto Jim's thigh. Jim could almost hear his plea to not let Naomi come between them tonight. Not able to argue with both himself and Blair, Jim nodded curtly, giving a quick squeeze of his own to show that he was unhappy, but ok.

Taking a deep breath, he undid the chain, cracked the door and slid through it, shutting it solidly behind him. He caught Naomi as she was putting down her suitcase and reaching with her key.

"Jim! It's good to see you," her hello was surprised and warm, but she didn't offer a cheek or hug.

"Naomi, what a surprise! We haven't heard from you in a while, and Blair thought you might be out of the country on retreat." Jim made no move to let her at the door or to pick up her bags.

Frowning slightly, either at the obstacle or the use of 'we', Naomi said, "I tried to call and let you know I was going to be in town. You know, Jim, you really shouldn't unplug the phone like that. I mean, what if someone was looking for you?"

Odd comment to come from her, Jim thought, but smiled. "That's kinda the point here, Naomi. Blair and I wanted some private time, without any interruptions. In fact, I hope you don't mind, but, well, we're in the middle of something right now, and I'm hoping you'll let me treat you to a hotel room. There's a great place not far from here. I can give you a lift if you..."

"I have a car with me, thank you, Jim. And I won't stay long; I just want to say hello to my little sweetie and then I'll get out your way." She made a move as if to approach the door, but Jim didn't budge.

"Naomi, I know you might not believe this, but there are times, rare as they are, when a man doesn't want to see his mother, and this is one of those times for Blair. Please, let me take you to a hotel, and he'll join you for breakfast at Scarro's tomorrow at 8, ok?"

Laughing lightly, Naomi brushed off Jim's comment. "Nonsense, Jim. Blair and I are very close. I know he'll want to see me."

Running his hand through his hair, stopping at the back of his neck to ease the tension there, Jim braced himself internally and told her bluntly. "It doesn't matter how close, no man wants his mother on his honeymoon, Naomi. I swear to you, if you insist on going in, I won't stop you, but you'll be hurting him and I won't forgive you for it."

"His honeymoon!" Naomi blurted. "You're married? What kind of ceremony, and why wasn't *I* invited? If you've turned my son against me..."

"No ceremony," Jim broke in, "just a private celebration between the two of us. If Blair wants to do a public commitment of some kind later, no problem. He'll probably want your help with that, but tonight... please, Naomi, he's worked very hard at making tonight special. Surely you can wait until tomorrow morning to see him?"

Looking stormier than he had ever seen her, Naomi glared at him as if wishing she hadn't made a life-long commitment to non-violence. Without another word, she picked up her suitcase and strode away, not even looking back. Jim waited until he heard the slam of a car door before he let himself back into his home.

He had heard Blair go upstairs as soon as he'd said hello to Naomi, and he had obviously shut down the place for the night as he did. Securing the door, Jim made his way slowly upstairs, not sure what mood his lifemate would be in when he got there. Uncertain, he watched his feet as he climbed, and so was caught totally off-guard when he looked up by the surprise Blair had prepared.

Sitting on the floor on one hip, legs stretched out to the side, Blair was leaning on the bed, one arm laying along its edge. Around his neck was a collar of soft leather in a shade of blue that matched Jim's eyes. He was playing with the leash attached to it, winding it around and around his hard-on. There was a soft, playful smile on his face as he watched the leather twine.

The only thing that kept Jim from howling in lust was the fact that every bit of breath had been knocked out of him.

Closing his eyes didn't help; he could *still* see the erotic pose. A deep breath was a big mistake. Not only was the air rich with the scent of Blair's excitement, but the aroma of freshly applied KY was there, demanding his attention. Nothing turned him on more than knowing Blair had opened himself in advance. He heard himself growling, stifled it, but it started back up again almost immediately.

Shaking so hard standing was a miracle, he crossed over to the bed and knelt in front of the smaller man. With one finger he outlined the top edge of the collar, and then, in an act made possible only by the depth of their feelings for each other, he carefully undid it. Placing warm kisses on the line of Blair's throat as it was removed, he whispered, "You *know* how enticing you are wearing that." Putting it to one side, he went on. "I have something else I want to see on you tonight, though."

He burrowed under the mattress of the bed with a free hand, and brought out a small velvet box. Opening it so that Blair could see the contents as he did, he revealed two matching gold bracelets of heavy gold links alternating with small, plain oval faces.

Taking out and holding the smaller one, Jim studied it as it dangled from his fingers. "I had these made a while ago, not sure *when* I was going to show them to you. Maybe on the first anniversary of the first time we made love." He looked up at his lover, his eyes the most intense shade of blue Blair had ever seen.

"Since then I've thought about what to say when I did. There should be vows, promises, but I couldn't find any words. They were all such small, hard things, and what I feel, what I want to say is such a huge, beautiful... Then I realized I could use the little words: I love you, I want to be with you forever, I will always give the best of who and what I ever have been or ever will be to you and you alone. I could use them because you would know that, behind the cold little words, the incredibly wonderful part was hidden. We both just know that it's there. *We just know.*"

Turning over one of the faces so Blair could see, Jim showed him those three words clearly etched on it. A single tear began its trip down Blair's cheek, and he offered up his wrist. Jim kissed the pulsing life-point on it, then started to fasten the bracelet on. "Blair, this will lock in place. Are you sure?"

"Yes." It was the first word Blair had spoken deliberately since they had begun their lesson in silence.

Taking the box from Jim, he freed the other bracelet, holding it up for a moment to admire it. He kissed the clasp, then, holding Jim's eyes, he repeated the vow just made. "I love you, I want to be with you forever, I will always give the best of who and what I ever have been or ever will be to you and you alone." With a kiss identical to the one Jim had given him, Blair locked it place.

When he lifted his head from his task, Jim caught the chin by one finger and leaned forward to kiss the track of the tear. He traced it from one corner of Blair's eye, down to the curve of his chin with his tongue, then slipped into the warm haven waiting for him.

Kneeling, knee to knee, left hands clasped and held between them, they sealed their vows. They made this unique kiss, the first celebrating their union, last, trying to savor one another as if it were the first time they had ever kissed. Tongues lingered, stroking over each other, delving for flavor and texture with single-minded purpose. Jim drew Blair's into his mouth, sucking as if to wring every drop of Blair's taste from it. He relinquished it, finally, only to have his own treated similarly, Blair's free hand going to the back of his head to hold him more securely.

They drew apart slowly, Jim bringing both of them to their feet as he did. He led Blair over to a pallet on the floor he had prepared for them earlier. It was a mound of satin pillows and fabric, strategically arranged to make either of them comfortable in what ever position they might think to use. In front of it was a mirror, and Jim stopped them in front of it.

After dusting a few kisses over Blair's forehead, he leaned his own onto it, and whispered. "Do you have any idea how hard it is for me sometimes to decide *how* to make love to you? I love all of it; each act has something about it that makes me wish I could do that one thing for hours.

"When I take your mouth, the very sight of me sliding in and out drives me out of my mind. *You* doing something that intimate, that overtly sexual to *me!* Everytime it's an affirmation that you love me.

"When it's your cock or ass I'm tasting, all of my senses are focused on you and you are so completely *there* to me, like no other human being has been in my entire life. I see you, hear you, taste, feel, and smell you and nothing but you in the whole world exists.

"When you're inside me..." Jim paused, swallowing hard, and he could almost feel the impossible further hardening of Blair's erection across the small space separating them. "... I have never known such pleasure. Because of it, the very *word* will always mean you to me.

"But, when I'm in you, making you feel that same pleasure, I feel.. I feel.. immortal, ten feet tall, virile as a bull. It's sooo good, being behind you, pounding into you, knowing you'd do anything to have it last forever. Much as I love that, I love being able to see your face, too. Love watching as I fill you, seeing your beauty transformed into something divinely born by ecstasy.

"That's always the hardest choice, when I want to use you. From the rear to make it feel best, or from the front so I can see. Tonight, Chief, we're going to have the best of both." He turned Blair so that he could see them in the mirror, and stood behind his lover, crossing his arms over the smaller man's chest. "Look into my face," he murmured into one finely shaped ear, watching Blair's reflection shiver in response. "Watch me, watch yourself, to see what I see."

He scraped at the soft mat of hair on Blair's chest with the nails on both hands, marking a path to the rosy nipples waiting taunt and aching for his touch. Pinching and pulling at them, Jim divided his attention between the quicksilver expressions flowing over his mate's face and the sight of those hard nubs under his fingers. Blair threw back his head, letting it rest on Jim's shoulder and reached up to curl his hand around Jim's neck. The other brushed up and down his own tummy restlessly. In the mirror Jim could see Blair watching them from under shuttered lids, his mouth open slightly as he began to pant.

      

Snuggling his cock into the cleft of Blair's ass, Jim locked one arm over the heaving chest to support him. Blair pressed back strongly at the swath of heat burning between his cheeks, then hooked his free hand over the forearm connecting his nipples. Unable to resist humping a little to appease the need snarling inside, Jim scratched his way down to Blair's waiting cock. Leaping at his touch, the blood thrummed through it as Blair moaned sharply at the contact.

They watched their reflections as Jim lowered both of them slowly to their knees, splaying Blair's wide so that he was straddled over his lap. Almost by magic his cock found it's way to the slick opening waiting for it, and he entered it in one smooth, deep thrust. Internal muscles clenched, unclenched, and Blair groaned, "Use me, babe. Make me beg."

"For what?" Jim hissed, beginning to withdraw, pulling to the very edge. "For me to fuck you? To make you come?" With a snap of his hips, he plunged back in, and began to slowly withdraw again. "To fill your ass with my cock?" Another quick snap. And gradual retreat. "To give it to you harder?" Snap, retreat, "Deeper?" Snap, retreat. Jim began to mimic the motion on Blair's cock.

"All of it! Any of it! Jim!" Blair tried to get in a position to pick up the pace, get the fucking he wanted. Jim's greater strength and leverage defeated him, and he sagged back into his mate, taking the cock deeper.

"Look, Blair, look at us." Jim instructed. He focused on where he see the image of his cock gliding into the stretched hole. His vision swam, doubled oddly, then focused. "Look at it," he muttered again. "Fucking wonderful."

"Man, oh, man," Blair moaned. "You look so damned big! You *feel* so damned big." He tried again to hurry them, apparently wanting to see the hungry pole taking him fast and hard. Denying him that, Jim used brute muscle and lifted Blair up off his cock, letting them see tiny pucker close. Then he placed the head back and lowered Blair, groaning at both the sight and feel of that tight ring giving way and embracing his need.

Head spinning, for a moment he could not tell whose asshole was being plowed, and whose cock was doing the plowing. Feeling himself invaded by a phantom hard-on, he involuntarily tightened his opening. And Blair groaned, ramming his cock into Jim's fist. Echoing that, Jim lost his steady pace and began to thrust in earnest, part of him still unsure as to he was entering or entered.

Reason gone, it didn't matter who was giving or receiving, aren't they the same thing, he pounded into his lover. The rush of lust from earlier boiled through him, and the race of fire along his nerves heralded the end. "No!" he moaned, "Not yet .... oh, oh... no.... oh, no... not..." With a long low cry, his whole body convulsed in the throes of intense pleasure, keeping the motion of fucking by animal instinct.

When the last spasm let go, he found Blair's seed on his hand, his own erection unflagging, and Blair twisting on the rod inside him as if he still needed to come. "More.. please... give it.... oh, Jim!"

This time his cry was one of triumph, and Jim released his grip on Blair's chest so that he could push him face first into the satin fabric. Holding him by the thighs, mirror forgotten, he jackhammered into Blair. "Want this!?" he shouted, "Want more of this?!"

"YES! YES! POUND ME! NOW!" Blair reared back, meeting Jim's thrusts with a meaty slap of flesh.

"Gonna give it to you," Jim ground out, balls drawing up, getting heavy. "Gonna... uh, un... give it... unh, uhn... all... aaaaa... coming, now... now, now, now, now." Back bent like a bow, he put the last millimeter of cock into the grasping ass and keened in a low, guttural voice as he spurted. Under him, Blair hammered the floor with his fists, shrieking, though no semen came from him.

His collapse was barely controlled enough that he didn't squash his lover. Fighting to drag oxygen into starving lungs, he crept over him, not needing to ask where to put his limbs or weight for Blair's comfort. Blair captured a hand and brought it to his mouth, sucking at the fingers idly as he tried to catch his breath. "If that's... <gasp>... what I get if .... <pant>...I don't talk... <sigh>.... for a weekend....what would ... happen if I didn't... for a week?"

"Meltdown." Jim mumbled, soothed by Blair's oral attentions. "Whole apartment. Whole fucking building. Nobody survives. Did we, by the way?"

"We did more than survive," Blair answered drowsily, "I don't know what happened, there, but for a moment..."

"... for a moment..." Jim rumbled, nearly asleep.

"..we were the same body..."

"...yah.. "

"And you act if I just said 'I love you.'" Blair complained, barely audible.

".. didn't you?" Jim whispered, but Blair didn't answer and he didn't notice. Both were asleep.
 

The End

Picture used courtesy of Ryka (ryka@magnet.at)