HEAT

//I must have been a lizard in another life,// Blair thought contentedly, squirming happily to get into the best position in what had to be the most *comfortable* situation he'd ever been in his life. Above him the sky was a clear, vibrant blue, sun beaming brilliantly from it into one of Washington's rare summer-hot days. The warmth from the sunshine was seeping into every nook and cranny he had, for once impeded by nothing but a pair of boxer-style swimming trunks that did little to keep out the sun's bounty.

Around them was only the water of the Sound, as placid and smooth as if it were dark glass that absorbed the light instead of sharing it. Not even the light breeze that stirred the wiry hairs on his body wasn't enough to disturb its stillness, and the two boats anchored on it looked very much as if they'd been added to surface by means of special effects.

Under him was the world's best mattress, one that generated another kind of heat all together. "Remind me," he murmured to his lover, settling his hands loosely over the thighs on either side of him, "to tell our host how grateful I am that he's so damned big. This lounge chair of his is bigger than some beds I've slept it."

"Glad I talked you into crewing for him?" Jim asked sleepily, idly playing with the curls spread over his chest with one hand and drawing random patterns on Blair's shoulder with the other.

"And surprised. I can't believe you were in the army with him. He doesn't strike me as the military type at all." Blair adjusted his sunglasses, wiping away a trace of sweat that had accumulated under the plastic of the frame.

"Big Red is one of the last of a dying breed; a true adventurer," Jim explained. "Not an adrenaline junkie, not some bored rich man looking for ways to spend his money, but someone who wants to take bites of life as huge as he is. Joined the Army because he *wanted* to do something himself about the problems in the world, thought the Rangers were the best way to do that. Didn't relish the killing, but loved matching his wits and skills against what was thrown at him. Big game photography, mountain climbing guide, deep sea diving - all just ways to be useful and have a good time at it."

"Made him a rich man," Blair reminded him. "Guess there's still those who want to admire and emulate that kind of person."

"Mmmm," Jim agreed. "Have to admit I like his latest kick; taking people on 'round the world sailing cruises. Not that I'm interested in going myself, but you have to admit the perks for helping him with this shake down run with his ships are pretty damned good."

"Definitely." Blair reached down for the open beer bottle sitting in its bed of melting ice, took a long drink and handed it up to Jim. "Glad he trusted us enough to leave us in charge of the boat while he took the others ashore to pick up the things people forgot or didn't think they needed; good teaching method, too. I *much* prefer catching some rays and listening to the waves talking with the boat than listening to all those rich people make up excuses why they couldn't follow simple instructions."

"Mmmm," Jim said again, and Blair smiled to himself, thinking that his over-worked, over stressed sentinel was really, really relaxing - a rare occurrence.

Come to think of it, he was seldom this mellow himself. The sunshine had warmed him through and through, reducing cold-tight muscles to so much silly putty, and what it hadn't taken care of, worry-wise, the icy brew was working out quite nicely. Though they were technically in command for the next couple of hours, they were at anchor on a perfectly beautiful day, there was nothing to do *but* catch some rays and wait for something to happen. Mentally making a note to turn them both over and reapply sunblock in another half hour or so, he drifted in sun-bliss, unable to think of a single thing that could possibly make things better.

//Well, maybe *one* thing,// he amended silently a short time later, wiggling to accommodate the growing lump poking him in the back.

Apparently in response to his movement - or maybe the slight pickup in heart rate and breathing - Jim murmured, "Sorry 'bout that."

"Something got your lesser head going?" Blair asked smugly, knowing perfectly well that one of the reasons he loved a relaxed sentinel, aside from the obvious, was that it also made for a horny sentinel.

"I think he likes the view," Jim answered lightly.

Tilting back his head to peer up at his partner, Blair considered that for a moment, then followed the line of sight that Jim would have from his position, though he had to estimate where he was looking because his shades covered his eyes. However, it wasn't a difficult guess, and his own maleness stirred in vague interest at being scrutinized.

"Definitely likes the view," Jim said at the slight motion from under the swim trunks. He bent his head to put his lips closer to Blair's ears and added, "He likes the feel, too. That stuff you smeared on us is making you sooo slick. And it smells good, besides."

"Yeah?" Blair breathed, the hint of lust in his lover's voice causing a definite hardness in *his* other head, and he reached down to adjust himself, smoothing the material over his growing length to teasingly emphasizing it.

To his surprise the play drained out of Jim, and tension instantly returned to the lax muscles that had been cradling him. Alarmed, Blair tilted back his head again, trying to determine what sense had warned his partner, ready to help him focus if needed. From the cock of Jim's head, it was obviously hearing, and, he waited impatiently to be filled in.

As suddenly as he'd gone into battle readiness, Jim relaxed again, though not quite as much as before. "We've got an audience," he said softly. "Mathison is watching us from the other ship."

Without moving his head, Blair glanced over at the SweetSally floating a few hundred yards away and saw the first mate for that ship, Big Red's business partner, as a speck of color on the main deck. "Why that dirty old pervert," Blair said admiringly, only a little embarrassed at being peeped at. Instinctively he raised a knee to hide his groin, laughing at both himself and Mathison. "What tipped you off?"

"When you touched yourself, he moaned and said, 'do that again, baby, come on, do it again' loud enough to attract my attention. I'd been giving the Sally half an ear anyway," Jim said. Then, as if asked, he went on, "He's doing the same thing we are; sitting in the sun and having a brew, but he's getting *his* kicks by watching us through binoculars."

Blair studied the spot that was Mathison, as if he could see the fifty something man he'd met Friday morning. Hale and hearty for his years, still plenty of black in the gray hair he wore buzz cut short, Mathison had treated him with the same impartial cordiality he'd treated the paying guests, not once doing anything that could have been interpreted as flirting. //Of course, that might have a lot to do with the over-protective cop hovering around me. On the other hand, looking might be the only way he likes to get his gay kicks,// Blair thought with some sympathy, letting the rest of his concern go and trying to get back into lizard mind set.

But the lump under him was much more noticeable, and with a small smile, he asked, "Are you getting turned on by being ogled by an old man?"

For an answer Jim skated a single finger tip over Blair's shoulder, drawing a lazy pattern around a nipple that perked up at the promise of attention. "He's not that old, and who are you to complain about a voyeur? You do it professionally."

"Point," Blair agreed complacently.

"He really likes seeing me touch you like this; he just took his hardon out of his shorts and is stroking it," Jim informed him.

"Hung?" Blair asked, interested despite himself.

"Respectably. About eight inches, fairly thick, got a bit of a downward curve." Jim chuckled. "He's telling me 'to pinch them, make him moan. Think I should, Chief?"

Without waiting for an answer, Jim did as their long-distance audience instructed, and Blair couldn't help but arch into the touch, a soft cry spilling from him. Keeping one hand at its task, Jim slid the other down to smooth the trunks over his erection, this time being the one to emphasize its presence.

"He just muttered, 'God, that's hot,'" Jim whispered in an ear. "And he licked his lips like he wants desperately to drink you down."

"If he thinks I'm hot, wait til he gets a look at the monster you sport. I can't believe you're getting off on this!"

There was a faint shrug from the body surrounding him. "You *are* hot, and this is a safe way to show you off."

"And if I want to show you off?" He tried to sound challenging, not quite sure he was happy about being the one on the far end of the binoculars for a change. But it came out breathless, excited, his body, at least, having no qualms.

Growling, Jim ground his hardon into Blair's back. "Your call, Chief. We can take this below, or we can tease the shit out of Mathison and never show him anything. Or I can just fuck you right now. He's moaning and voting for the last, by the way. Really pumping himself, too."

Thinking was an effort and why he needed to was rapidly being muddled by the clever fingers traveling in slippery trails from one aching point on his chest to the other. Steady pressure from the palm over the head of his cock didn't help. "How's he doing it?" he gasped, not expecting those words to come out.

"Like this." Jim slid his hand under the waistband of the trunks and took Blair's cock in a light three-fingered grasp. It was looser than either of them used, and the stroke was very fast, which tantalized but didn't satisfy the need for contact.

"Huh! Porno movie style," Blair muttered, barely able to keep himself from wrapping his fist around his lover's to make him do it right. "Figures."

"Now he's begging us to take down your trunks. Don't think I'm going to do that." Stopping his jacking, Jim nibbled the rim of the ear he'd been speaking into, then snaked a lick all the way down to the lobe to suck on it. Releasing it, he mumbled, "Damn, this stuff tastes as good as it smells." With a heave he pulled Blair higher up his body, both of them groaning as skin glided sensuously over skin.

Twisting to take a kiss, Blair reached behind himself to shove down Jim's speedos, freeing his huge cock before it could tear its way out. Capturing the tongue thrusting arrogantly past his lips, he sucked strongly, making it a suggestion as he gently smeared the precum he found over the crown. It jumped eagerly, and then Jim eased it away, turning both of them so he could go to his feet beside the lounge chair.

Moving so fast that Mathison couldn't possibly have gotten more than glimpse of full nudity, Jim peeled his speedos the rest of the way off and knelt astride Blair's upper thighs. Bending over slightly to hide his huge cock, he quoted, grinning, "God Damnit!"

Laughing, Blair reached for the tower jutting from his lover's body, wrapping both hands around the base. "Shock him, did you?"

"Sounded more like a combination of horror and lust," Jim correctly absently, shoving into the hold on him. "Now he's urging me to do you, can't believe you can take it without me killing you."

Now that the view of Blair's crotch was blocked, Jim pushed down the trunks, freeing his cock to the sun. Moaning his appreciation, Blair arched, rubbing the head over his lover's shaft for a moment, the tugged it upwards. "He isn't going to believe this, then," he said mischievously.

Obeying the summons, Jim raised up, turning up his feet to leave them where his backside had been to protectively figleaf Blair's nakedness. Bracing his hands on the railing just behind the lounger, he offered himself, quoting, "God damn it! God damn it!"

"If you make me laugh," Blair warned, "I won't be able to do this!"

"Well, I can always answer his other prayer."

"Maybe later." The familiar sight of his hands damned near dwarfed by the meat they were holding had his mouth watering, and he ran his tongue over the head before inhaling it, relishing the stretch of his jaw. Taking as much as he could, he bobbed up and down on it gingerly, working the rest with practiced skill. He could feel tremors in the hard body in front of him, but doubted Jim would be able to come from sucking. No matter how exciting he was finding it to be watched, it was unlikely the sentinel would be able to let his internal sentries down that much.

Which meant Blair would have to find a way to push his lover's buttons down, hard. He remembered all too well how irritable an overly frustrated sentinel could be and they likely wouldn't have another chance for privacy until they returned home in two days.

With that in mind, he reluctantly pulled off the dick he was servicing with a last obscene slurp. Strong fingers caught in his hair as if to pull him back, but he grinned up saucily at his lover. "My turn. Let's see how he likes watching you deep throat me."

Expression clearly questioning, Jim did as expected and automatically tuned in on their audience. "He's cussing and moving around, trying to find a better angle so he can see the action better."

"Let's make it up to him," Blair said on impulse. He leaned back into the chair and lifted his arms over his head, loosely hooking his fingers over the rail near his partner's. "I'm sure you can think of something intriguing for him, my slut."

The triumph he felt at the suddenly feral look in his lover's eyes was quickly washed away by an answering animal lust from deep inside himself.

Regardless, Jim asked, "Are you sure?"

"Doesn't this feel like I'm sure?" He bucked up, his dick jabbing at the solid ass cheeks so close to it.

The only reaction he got this time was a subtle flaring of nostrils that he would have missed if he hadn't been looking for it. With no more warning than that, Jim scooted back down until he was reseated on Blair's thighs, and he attacked the swimming trunks in earnest.

With a yank the drawstring was free from them, and he leaned up to use it to tie Blair's wrists to the rail. It was only a token bond, really, but all they needed to put them both in the right mind set. Biceps flexing impressively, Jim ripped the trunks into two pieces and slid the rest of the way off the lounger, crouching at the end to secure Blair's ankles to its legs. Again, it was mostly for show: a good tug would be all it took to get free.

When he was done, Jim took his original seat astride his lover, hungrily staring down and leisurely stroking himself.

"What's our one-man audience doing?" Blair asked.

Jim listened, shouted with laughter, then leaned down for a fast, penetrating kiss. "He's shooting, mumbling 'son of a bitch, son of a bitch,' over and over."

Breaking up, Blair gasped out, "That's gratitude for you. We give him the show of his life, and he gets pissed when the enviable happens."

"Oh, I don't think he's any more finished than we are," Jim said hotly, humor forgotten. Resting on him, chest to chest, he rocked gently from side to side, the sunblock making it almost frictionless and very, very sexy. "He's still watching, using his come to play with himself."

"Uhn!" was all he could say. The smooth slide of those perfect pecs over his nipples was doing things to Blair, all of which conspired to make his cock harder and harder, drawing his balls up tight to the base despite the day's heat. Straining upward in an automatic bid for relief, he started to moan a plea, but Jim dropped all his weight on him to keep him still.

Burying both hands in Blair's curls, he held the tossing head in place and took his mouth with casual force, as if he didn't care if Blair wanted to be kissed or not. After plundering it until there was no air left to protest, nor mind to for the words for one, Jim pulled away and waited until Blair's eyelids fluttered back up.

"If you come before I tell you to, my whore," Jim said flatly, "Or break the restraints I have on you, I'll go below and take care of *this*" He pushed hard into Blair, his huge cock tunneling into the pressure between them, "By myself. No fuck or suck for you the rest of the voyage."

Whimpering, all Blair could do was stare into the lust black eyes of his lover and nod, vaguely hoping that was the correct thing to do.

For a split second he panicked when the wonderful heaviness pinning him left, but Jim was only changing position to sit over him again. He swirled his hands through the mix of sweat and sunblock on Blair's belly, finger painting with it. "Mathison's right," he muttered. "You look so incredibly hot like this. Tied down, spread out, greased up and helpless. Maybe I should cool you down a bit before you burn me."

Bending over, Jim reached for something out of Blair's view, but he could hear the rattle of ice cubes from the bucket beside them. He couldn't help flinching, and he tightened his grip on the rail in a futile attempt to brace himself. Jim came back up with a double handful of the icy water and poured it in a steady stream over Blair, beginning just under his chin, all the way down to his groin.

The first shock of it tore a scream from Blair. Not quite pain, not exactly pleasure, the sensation ricocheted throughout every nerve, leaving him quivering weakly, covered in goosebumps.

When it faded, Jim murmured, "Guess we should be on more sunblock," and reached for the tube where it had been sitting soaking up the sun's rays. The ribbon of hot cream that his lover poured down the same path as the water re-warmed Blair nearly instantly, and the slow massage to work it into his skin renewed his flagging hardon.

He became lost in that for a moment, gratefully absorbing the heat, and didn't really notice when the caresses became one-handed. This time the sudden rush of cold water from Jim’s palm resolved itself into something good very quickly, the contrast between it and the warm lotion making every inch of skin that he had tingle and pay attention. When chilled palms settled over his nipples, he arched up into them, frantic noises bubbling out of him.

Jim replaced his hands with his mouth and a dollop of cream, and Blair couldn't stop another scream from ripping its way out of his throat. Twice more his lover switched cold and hot on those sensitive buds until Blair begged him to stop, he was going to come, can't not come, please, lover, stop, stop!

Slowly Jim sat back on his heels, teasing his own nipples with freezing fingers. Panting, Blair watched him, not sure the sight wasn't going to be more than his frazzled nerves could stand. A crooked smile flashed over his lover's features, and he said conversationally, "Mathison has a very limited vocabulary; he's back to 'Goddamnit, goddamnit!"

The reminder of their peeping tom sent flashes of pleasure darting through Blair's middle, catching him off-guard. "Are you going to fuck me in front of him?" he blurted.

"Do you want me to?"

Turning his head toward the distant man, Blair licked his lips and began restlessly rocking his hips, fucking the air. An odd innate shyness battled with the nearly overwhelming need burning him, and he finally admitted, "I want to torment the bastard the same way you're tormenting me. Make him think he's going to get to see it, but thinking is all he gets, okay?"

"You," Jim said, swooping down for a hard kiss. "Are wicked," he finished as he straightened back up.

Cold hands circled Blair's shaft, making him jump. "Look who's talking."

"You wouldn't have me any other way," his lover said smugly, taking away the cold to reach for more ice.

"I'll have you anyway I can get you."

"And as often as possible." Jim inched back, spreading his own thighs wide to leave Mathison a partial view of hardon and balls, yet give himself some room to maneuver.

"Promises, prom..." Blair stopped talking and sucked in a huge breath. Cold, *cold* fingers were pressing into his pucker, not quite breaching it, but making it spasm tighter shut with a blast of pleasure bordering on pain. Even expecting the retreat of the icy probe and the application of heated cream, there was no way he could brace himself for the impact of the slippery stuff dripping over the contracted ring.

As suddenly as he'd clenched, he flowered open, channel fluttering in anticipation of being probed. Two frigid digits invaded him, feeling enormous in his suddenly spasming ass, and he sobbed, 'Jim...god..oh!!..." They left abruptly, despite his pathetic attempts to keep them in, and something scalding hot and hard and huge and artificial took their place. Not even knowing what it was, he thrust down on it as best he could, wailing, then screaming when icy hands cupped his balls. Cold encompassed his cock, jacking in time to the hot thing using him.

He was going to come, there was no way he couldn't come, and his whole body went rigid with the futile command *not* to, seed boiling up the column of his flesh. "I HAVE TO!!!" he shrieked. "I have, have to, now My Own, NOW, Please, PLEASE, PLEASE!!!!"

"Do it, whore!" Jim panted. "Do it...right...NOW!"

At the words of permission, Blair erupted with no sound to mark the instant of meltdown into white-hot ecstasy. A tiny part of him registered the splattering of molten liquid over his stretched opening and Jim's hoarse cry of completion.

***

After a while Blair meandered back towards his body, not surprised to find it comfortably pinned by Jim's weight, though his hands were now free. His lover was humping on him lightly, half a hardon pumping along the crease of his thighs, leisurely sniffing and nuzzling at his curls in apparent contentment. Threading his fingers through the hair at the back of Jim's head, he murmured, "Feels good. We got time for an encore before they others get back?"

Taking a look at where the sun was sinking toward the horizon, Jim said regretfully, "I don't think so."

"Damn!" Blair said in genuine disappointment, but knowing it would make his lover laugh.

Body vibrating with chuckles, Jim said, "You're not the only one not ready to stop, my own insatiable whore. Mathison is cussing us out big time because we finished before he did and he didn't even get to see you 'get split open by that goddamned telephone pole Ellison calls his cock.'"

"More like a redwood, man," Blair corrected sleepily. "And that's what he gets for being a peeping tom."

"You didn't seem to mind using *me* to peep on *him,*" Jim argued mildly.

That was true, but didn't stop Blair from answering cheekily, "And you didn't seem to mind using me to put on an exhibition for him."

"Not only didn't I mind," Jim said honestly, "But showing us off like that made me want to nail you so hard you'd think you'd been servicing a elephant."

Wiggling around a little on the seriously interested cock skimming along his crack, Blair said happily, "Just what we need - another kink!!"

finis