Tempered in the Forge

Blair stumbled over his revelation the way another person would stumble over an obstacle in their path, or over their own feet when too tired or drunk. He went upstairs to bed, exhausted, mind filled with a thousand things that had nothing to do with going to sleep and would get in the way of it if he didn't tame them, and looked into the darkened room to see Jim sprawled over their big bed.

It was hardly the first time his lover had fallen sleep ahead of him, or even nodded off while waiting, which Jim's nude condition suggested. And it most certainly wasn't the first time he'd noticed how beautiful his sentinel was, though it seemed at times *Jim* had never noticed. But there was something about the sight of him this night that punched the air out of Blair, literally making him trip and cling to the wall for support.

Maybe it was the position the big cop lay in: on his stomach, one arm under his pillow, the other stretched toward Blair's side of the bed, a knee drawn up to accommodate the half-erect penis nodding in the shadow of the concave belly. In the partial light from the sky light, a soft gauzy light that was a combination of city glow and feeble moonlight, Jim was an artist's rendering in charcoal, made of shadows and long, silvery lines.

Or maybe it was the expression on the slumbering features. Though he was far enough under that Blair's entrance into the room hadn't caused a twitch, Jim's lips were faintly down-turned and unhappy looking, and his brow was furrowed as if in dealing with unpleasant thoughts. All it took was a glance at the outflung arm to know why his rest wasn't easy; apparently a vital component of a good night's sleep was missing. His bedmate and lover.

Whatever it was that set this night apart from the rest, the sight of Jim made Blair dizzy and faint, as though he had missed too many meals, and he swallowed again, not surprised to hear a dry click from his throat. Heart racing, lungs laboring to bring in bring in enough oxygen, he leaned on the wall, staring at his lover with lust and love rising simultaneously, mixing in a witch's brew of excitement that made his manhood rock hard even as his legs turned to wilted celery.

Jim shifted fractionally, nostrils flaring, and his guide knew that the scent of arousal was reaching the sentinel. Muttering Blair's name indistinctly, the other man clutched at the bedding, looking unhappier, but subsided back into sleep. It was too much for Blair, and, shaky legs or not, he had to join his lover. Distantly thinking he would crawl if he had to, he crossed the room carefully, falling to his knees at the side of the bed. Almost timidly he tucked his fingers into the dip of Jim's palm, and that small touch was enough to erase all the lines marring the beauty of the face he studied hungrily.

A part of him knew he should let his partner rest undisturbed; most of him was arguing about what to do to that gorgeous body first. With a caress so light not even a sentinel could awaken from it, Blair traced the grace of arm, shoulder, back, hip in one fluid motion, letting his hand come to rest on the pale globe of an ass cheek. Jim made a tiny noise, then lifted his knee farther, opening his body in an unconscious invitation that sent Blair moving silently to kneel in the gap made by those spread legs.

No man looked more vulnerable than one stomach down, thighs open to reveal the dangling evidence of his maleness and the hidden entrance to his body; Jim more so than others, Blair thought erratically. His buff build gave him a subtle air of menace, even naked, as did his soldier's stare. But to lie bare like this was a show of trust Blair had never really understood before for some reason and certainly had never appreciated.

Suddenly he knew exactly what he had to do both to acknowledge that trust and to show his appreciation of it. Blair lowered his head slowly toward the dark crease of Jim's backside, letting his hair fall in a silky sweep over either side of it. His lover's reaction was another indistinct murmur that ended on a pleased sound when his guide tentatively brushed his lips in the merest of touches over the top of the cleft.

Gracing the entire split with small, closed-mouth kisses, Blair warned his lover of his intentions, then darted out the tip of his tongue to stab at the center of the dusky pucker. The dark, quintessentially *male* taste sent a spiral of strengthening need through him, and he began to love the taut muscle with ravenous intent.

It gave readily before his greed, blossoming from his darting probes and limber thrusts until he was pressed nose deep into the flesh around the tiny opening, trying to get an even deeper taste. He felt Jim's ass began to flex and tighten, pressing back into the rimming he was getting, and Blair slipped one hand down to cup the growing erection, encouraging the huge monster to its full length.

The flesh covering the shaft was oh, so soft before it was engorged with blood, and he loved feeling it harden, becoming velvet over steel, loved the way it grew from a promise to nearly a threat. Moaning his approval, he began to gently squeeze the head in time to his tongue's stabs, that being nearly all he could hold in one hand by the time Jim was fully erect.

"Babe..." Jim rumbled sleepily, lifting up more to give him better access to his body. "Oh! Wait...."

Grumbling a denial, Blair doubled his efforts, automatically rocking into the bed in an effort to appease some of the ache in his own body.

"Uh! Blair!" Under him, Jim began to shake. Anticipating a try for escape to make their sex reciprocal, Blair wrapped his fist around the shaft of Jim's cock, just under the head, and began to pump in earnest, nipping lightly at the bud he was loving at the same time. It was too much for his lover; Jim cried out hoarsely, his seed jetting out over his belly and the hands on him.

Coaxing him through his climax, Blair softened his caresses, but didn't stop. Before long his lover was again backing into the tongue spearing him and shoving into the slippery grip on his dick, staying half-hard and eager.

Gradually increasing his enthusiasm, Blair kept tormenting the lax portal, making it wet and loose as he could with his mouth. When Jim was keening from the sensual assault, he gave a last squeeze and nip, then crawled onto the big man's back, licking and biting as he went, until his very, very needy cock was right at the edge of Jim's pucker.

"Love you," he said gutturally and plowed in, filling Jim in one thrust. Groaning, his lover took him, rearing back as best he could to take all of Blair as deep as possible. "God!" The smaller man gasped, beginning a punishing hammering at the willing body. "OH! so... ah..." Jim gave as good as he got, putting his not inconsiderable strength into making their fucking furious and hard. Losing control even as he grasped after it, Blair felt his balls tighten and knew he was going to finish before his lover could. "No," he shouted, trying to fight it off, "No, not ... I want... no... no!"

Jim whimpered in disappointment, and raised his ass higher. "Please! Just... oh, God! Please, please, please."

Wailing, wanting to drive himself into Jim until it would take surgery to separate them, Blair arched his back and shot his load into his precious mate, leaving bruises on the other man's bottom from the sheer force of his attempt to become a part of his sentinel.

The release of his come did nothing for his vicious hunger; almost before the last spurt he was urging Jim over onto his back, latching onto his cock to suck before the turn was complete. Bitter and salty, the remnants of his lover's first orgasm encouraged his appetite, and he relaxed his throat to take as much of Jim's tool as he could manage.

"Yeah! Yeah, babe!" Jim encouraged, trying not to buck into the fiery suction so he wouldn't choke his partner. "I'm... oh, I'm..."

Abruptly taste and sucking wasn't enough, and Blair jerked away, pushing at Jim's stomach to make him stay flat. "Not yet," he panted, "Hang on, want it in me. Want you in me." He straddled his lover, reaching behind himself to guide the massive hard-on toward his opening.

Beneath him, Jim tried to shrink away, locking his hands around the smaller man's waist to hold him still. "Not ready, you're not ready," he husked out, the strain of finding control in his voice. "Let me..."

"Can't wait." Struggling, Blair used his weight to force the crown inside himself, and Jim brought up his knees to block him from doing more.

"Lube, Blair!" Quickly Jim groped in the nightstand, fished out a battered tube of KY, losing the cap in his haste to get some in his palm.

Impatient, not willing to pause even that long, Blair squirmed, trying to get farther down on the rod impaling him. With a hissed cry, Jim smeared the gel over the stretched pucker of his lover and down his shaft, getting the slippery stuff damn near everywhere in his hurry. Distracted by that, he couldn't stop his partner from taking the rest of him in a single violent slam down.

Gasping, half in pain and half in ecstasy, Blair gave himself a moment to adjust to the immense presence filling him, all the way up to his teeth it felt like, before beginning to ride fast and hard. Through slitted lids he drank in the sight of Jim under him, back bowed from the pleasure owning him, eyes rolled into the back of his head, fists full of the sheets, mouth open for desperate breaths to rush through. "Beautiful," he mumbled, somehow picking up speed, moving up and down on Jim's cock with burning hunger. "Fuckin' beautiful."

Taking himself in hand, he jacked his dick roughly, not even caring if he could come again. All he wanted was to do this forever, to feel his sentinel, his lover, his own slut in him and under him and surrounding him with heat and scent and lewd sex sounds. That need was so over powering that every time he sensed Jim getting close, he would slow or even stop his frantic rocking. And his lover was so far gone in his lust that all he could do was shiver and wait for Blair's permission to shoot.

Accidentally Blair plunged down especially hard and his legs skidded in the bedding, changing the angle of his thrusts enough that the huge head of Jim's cock began to massage over the sensitive nub inside him. The unexpected jolt of feeling was Blair's undoing. His finish screamed through him, surging down his spine and up his shaft, bursting out in creamy strands that mixed with the drying semen already on his hands and body from Jim.

"Blair," Jim said very softly, then convulsed through his own orgasm, pumping up into the channel milking him with erratic urgency.

All Blair could do was hang on, simultaneously melting onto his man from sweet release and mourning that it was over already. Jim dragged a palsied hand up to find a home in Blair's curls at the nape of his neck as his spasms weakened, then they both plummeted into sleep, clinging to each other even during their deepest slumber

****

Waking the next morning was no where near as pleasant as its opposite had been the night before. Though he was clear-minded and smug with the memory of how they had loved, Blair was afraid to move, he ached so much already. Confident that if Jim had smelt blood, they'd be at the emergency room right now, he gingerly rolled to his side, grimacing at the yelp of protesting muscles. "I don't care," he murmured, knowing his partner was listening. "It was worth it."

"You haven't stood up, yet," Jim called from the kitchen. "But I've got a little motivation here for you. Fresh bagels from the bakery, the last of the home made jam we picked up at that roadside stand, and the coffee roast Simon had that you liked so much."

"As an inducement to get up, that works," Blair said lightly, cautiously levering himself up on his elbows. "As an appropriate show of gratitude for the best lay we've ever had, it's lacking somewhat."

"I picked up some lox, too."

"Be right down." Despite his promise, Blair took his time going to a sitting position, sure that it was going to be an interesting experience. It was, and standing was even worse. "Great, how am I going to explain not taking a chair all day long?" he grumbled, but he wore a wide grin and the words had no real grumpiness behind them.

Walking seemed to help, though, and the long, long hot shower he took did more, and he was at least able to move normally by the time he was dressed and ready for work. He joined Jim in the kitchen, leaning on the counter while he drank his juice and devoured two toasted bagels. Silently amused, he noticed his partner wasn't in a hurry to sit down, either, and he hid his smirk in his coffee cup.

That wasn't the only thing he noticed about his sentinel; Jim was damn near glowing with contentment, and for a man about to go to a dangerous job, he was relaxed to the point of casualness. Even his eyes were warmer than normal for the start of a day. They looked more like an Indian summer sky than glacier ice - totally at odds with the cold, hard-nosed persona Jim donned before leaving in the mornings.

Unexpectedly a new wave of dizziness and longing, more powerful than the one that had had him weaving drunkenly last night, knocked him off-kilter, making his heart feel too big for his chest. God, he loved that man so much, needed him so much. Sore as he was, battered as he felt physically, he wanted Jim again, right now, wanted him as urgently as he ever had.

"Chief?" Jim must have picked up on the accelerated heart rate, or maybe the staggered breathing. Either way, he started for Blair, only to be pulled into his lover's anxious arms as son as he got close enough. With a sniff just at the smaller man's ear, the sentinel said with laughter just under the surface, "You didn't get enough yet?"

"I'm beginning to wonder if I'm *ever* going to get enough," Blair told him thickly, then claimed his mouth in a deep kiss, ignoring the flavor of their food in favor of the simple feel of soft on soft on soft of lips, palate, and tongue. Idly wondering when all his sensuality had decided to take residence in his mouth, Blair dredged his tongue out of Jim's throat so he could sample the strong jaw and delicate ear. "Taste good," he mumbled, rubbing his growing length into Jim's through their pants. "Wanna eat you up."

Though he tilted back his head to give his guide access to his neck, Jim reminded him distractedly, "We're supposed to walk out the door in five minutes. Simon, the PD, Major Crimes, remember?"

"Punctuality is over-rated," Blair told him between nibbles, "And they can get their own cock to suck. I have mine and I'm not sharing." He traced out the long ridge of Jim's erection and added, "Even if there is more than enough to go around." Reaching the curve of his lover's shoulder with his teeth, he fastened onto the flesh there, biting just hard enough to win a moan from the big man.

"Huh! Greedy!" That was all Jim could manage before he succumbed to Blair's determined assault and cupped his guide's bottom to hold him steady to grind against.

"Damn straight." Going with the rhythm that his lover was setting, Blair shimmied into him, enticing him with a more fleeting contact than Jim wanted. He started undoing buttons, orally worshiping each inch of skin as it was revealed, tackling the little flat nipples as soon as he had enough fabric out of the way. Laving them to pebbled hardness, he switched back and forth between them until Jim was moaning loudly from the attention.

Wishing he could prolong their pleasure, Blair reluctantly released the tortured bits, and sank to his knees, showering small kisses along the way. A twist of the wrist undid the top button of the waistband, and the zip nearly undid itself because of the pressure behind it. Taking Jim's erection in both hands, Blair sucked the cap into his mouth, deliberately making the circle of his lips as tight and caressing as he could. Peeking up through his lashes, Blair whimpered at the realization Jim was avidly watching him go down on him, hands gripping the counter edges hard enough to turn the knuckles white.

"The only thing stopping me from fucking you raw," the big man said hoarsely, "is the fact I've already fucked you raw! God! What you do to me!"

There was no way to reply to that, and he had nothing to say, really, so he concentrated on the tool he was servicing, doing his best to make it good for his lover. Blowjobs were a skill he prided himself on, and as always, simply kneeling in subservience to Jim's need was a thrill in and of itself for him. Patiently he worked his jaw and throat wider and wider, taking more of the 10-inch cock with each bob of his head.

The only warning he had that Jim had been pushed over the edge was a quiet groan. Then the prick crowding his throat throbbed, sending out its load in hot spurts. To his surprise, that was all Blair needed to tumble himself, and he creamed into his pants, his body trembling with the effort of staying upright. When Jim's hardon began to fade, Blair pulled back, petting with tongue and hands, resting his sweaty face on his lover's hip.

They stayed like that a minute or two, Jim's knees quaking with the strain of staying on his feet. Finally he gently pushed Blair back enough to sink down, gathering his partner to him as he did, placing him in his lap off the cold floor. "If I'd know what you really wanted for breakfast," he whispered, a smile touching Blair's forehead where his lips were straying, "I would have stayed in bed."

"Well, I appreciated the appetizer," Blair whispered back dreamily, listening to the heartbeat under his ear. Despite their awkward position, he felt comfortable and happy, the languor of a good climax countering any protests his over-used muscles might have had. Between the shower, the good meal, and the sweet loving, he was almost ready to face the world, but Blair lingered in the security of his sentinel's arms.

Shower, food, sex - he thought about the combo for a minute, and what it had to have taken for it to happen the way it did. To have enough hot water for a shower as long as he had taken, Jim must have either gotten up way earlier or skipped his own. Given a sentinel's sensitive nose and the *fresh* bagels, way earlier was the best bet. His lover must have left their bed several hours before Blair had awakened, cutting short his own rest to say thank you for the previous evening's romp. And to ease the fall-out from it for Blair.

Love overwhelmed him again, and he dug into the warm, strong body next to him, wishing he could crawl all the way inside Jim to stay forever. Instead, choked with unexpected tears, Blair thumped the other man on the arm to tell him to let go so he could change, before his partner picked up on how profoundly his acts of kindness had affected him.

**** end 1

For the rest of the day, Blair could not keep his hands off Jim. Driven by an irresistible tide of desire and love, he petted, patted, thumped, rubbed, pinched, poked, cupped, or tickled at every opportunity he could make or find. Anything to be in physical contact with his lover. Though he expected Jim to get annoyed or at least tired of it, that didn't happen. To his delight, his sentinel gave back as good as he got, going so far as to steal a quick hug in the elevator and holding Blair's hand at the lights on the way home.

That evening dinner was delayed because Blair couldn't wait until after it to get Jim naked, and they ended up ordering Chinese take out after drinking each other down on the couch. When they finally wandered upstairs, they wound around each other the big bed, lazily rubbing and humping, not trying to get off, only trying to get as close as they could.

That set the pattern for the next few weeks until Blair guiltily began to feel as though he had turned into a sex-starved animal. Though Jim had point blank refused intercourse until they had recovered completely from the wonderful abuse they had heaped on themselves that wondrous night, they did everything else possible and a few variations Blair made up on the spur of the moment. And they did it constantly. The only thing that eased his conscience was that Jim lapped it up, responding to every overture with eagerness and matching enthusiasm.

And Blair *still* wasn't sated.

In fact, he was willing to swear that Jim was deliberately provoking him, the same way Blair had once provoked the sentinel, using his knowledge of Jim’s senses to do it. The buff cop would stand against a window so that the light from it silhouetted his lean form, emphasizing his long-legged grace. Or he would brace one shoulder on a wall, drawing attention to just how wide and strong those self-same shoulders were. His elegant fingers would lightly stroke the edge of the book or paper he was reading, or his forehead as he thought, making Blair wish that *he* was the one under that careless touch. It seemed to him that Jim was smiling that crooked, half-shy smile of his more often, and that he was constantly pitching his voice into the intimate, husky tones that sent shivers all through Blair until he could almost get off on the sound of his partner reading someone their rights.

Unwillingly he had to admit, despite being teased to within an inch of his sanity daily, that his partner was totally unaware of the effect he was having. Jim was simply too bemused at Blair's sudden incessant appetite, though he was taking it at face value and not questioning its source.

It got to the point that they broke their own rules and made out in the truck at a stake out.

Blair tried valiantly to keep his mind on the job, but Jim's scent filtered across the small cabin of the truck, somehow working its way straight from the guide's nose to his dick. Restlessly he fidgeted and twisted in his seat, ignoring his half-a-hardon as best he could and keeping his eyes on the business office that was their target. Chattering mindlessly about whatever his mouth rambled across in his subconscious, Blair was aggravating himself, so he wasn't particularly surprised when Jim leaned over and put a finger across his runaway lips.

Eyes smiling, though his expression was neutral, he ordered softly, "Come here."

Anxiously Blair scooted closer, not quite worried about what his partner wanted. Never letting up his visual scanning, Jim burrowed under the coats and sweaters the smaller man wore against the weather until he could cup the tented front of Blair's pants. "Let me help," he said softly. "Or you're going to drive us both up the wall. Or maybe into a drilling a hole in it!"

"Sorry," Blair apologized self-consciously. "I... oh! ...don't mean... man, it's *cold* in here..."

"I'll keep it warm, don't worry," Jim soothed, stroking his lover the way he liked it best.

"Uh! Shouldn't..."

"I'll keep watch," Jim promised. "Doing this for you isn't any more distracting than being with you when you need it done."

"S... ah! ... sorry!" Blair repeated, not really hearing himself. His lover was jacking him *just* right, and most of his mind was absorbed by that.

"Shh, shh, it's okay. Go for it, my whore, go for it." Despite his claim that he could handle it, Jim's words were suspiciously thick, and Blair couldn't help but hope that he'd be the one providing this service next. He let his head fall back and moved into his partner's grip with increasing speed, in a hurry to get off because of that possibility.

"Close," he mumbled, "so close."

At the moment Jim seemed to sense the surge of relief through Blair, he bent to fasten his mouth over the head to swallow the evidence of their indiscretion, making the smaller man yelp in delighted surprise. When it was all gone, Jim straightened up, dabbing at the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand in such a self-satisfied way that Blair couldn't help but laugh weakly. "You could have warned me."

"What else did you expect me to do? Make you sit there in wet pants the rest of the night, reeking of sex?" Jim said casually, already all cop again.

"You could have used a kleenex and tossed it out of the truck," Blair countered mildly, pulling his clothes together.

"Better my way; no proof." For a split second Jim leered at him, the lover again, but he turned back to the job and Blair let him go, suddenly morbidly aware of the repercussions that could come from their lapse. At that moment he knew he had to get a grip on himself, so to speak, now, before it was too late.

*****

For the next week he somehow managed to keep his silent promise to himself, mostly because of frequent trips to the men's room to relieve his frustration. His ravenous need for Jim didn't abate, but he learned to live with it, and their frenetic bedtime activities mellowed into heavy duty cuddling and petting, which in many ways was as satisfying.

Again Jim blew his expectations by not answering the distance Blair created with more cold distance of his own. Instead he took the initiative more often himself, his usual hands-on approach to being with Blair becoming noticeably more tender and sensual. Though the sentinel had to know how often his lover was taking matters into his own hands, all he did was try to be a bit more attentive after the younger man returned from a 'visit' to the bathroom.

Confusion doesn't mix well with lust, and Blair did what he could to find an explanation, or failing that, at least balance. He meditated to sort out what was going on with him, had long internal monologues while he was pretending to read, wrote endlessly in his journal, and even seriously considered having his stars charted. Anything to rein in his runaway feelings before he wound up knocking Jim to the floor in the middle of the bull pen and having his way with him then and there.

Finally he left the department several hours ahead of his partner for some time alone, first to masturbate himself into numbness, and secondly to take off and spend his weekend driving aimlessly to try use the long, monotonous beat of the road to calm the frenzy inside him. Much as the idea of being away from his sentinel made his skin crawl with misery, matters simply couldn't go on the way they were and distance might give him the perspective he needed.

A plan helped settle him, and he cheerfully ran up the stairs to their home, for once not consumed with thoughts of sex. That lasted until he hung up his coat and brushed his hand over Jim's favorite leather jacket hanging on its hook. The supple cling of the material zinged over his nerves, and he caught a whiff of Jim's scent, well mixed with the tang of the leather itself, that made him nearly instantly hard. Hesitantly he rubbed a pinch of the coat between his finger and thumb, memories of all the times they had used leather ribbons for restraints caroming around his headspace. Much as he liked the feel, it didn't have the sensual impact on him that it did on Jim. Before now, that was.

At the moment it was alive, soft and inviting, luring him with its associations to Jim into stroking it the same way he would his lover. Instinctively seeking out more of his partner's aroma, Blair buried his nose in the lining, near the collar, and nuzzled it where it hung, warming the cool silk of the lining with friction. Gravity wrapped the sides of the coat around him as he did, leaving him in fragrant darkness, ridiculously turned on by this surrogate Jim. Unable to stop himself, he darted out his tongue to taste, wondering if he would be sensitive enough to pick up a trace of owner from the leather. Imagination supplied if reality didn't, and he took a broader lick, liking the spit lick glide of it.

Unthinkingly he drew in a mouthful and nursed on it, hastily taking out his hard-on to fist in concert with his sucking, vaguely ashamed and alarmed at what he was doing. But that was in the distance, and damn good climax was rounding the bend and making a breakaway run for the roses. Panting, letting random images of his lover float through his erotic haze, he worked himself, forgetting anything but the pleasure coursing over him.

Because Jim was so near to him in thought, Blair accepted the hard body pressing into him from behind without missing a beat on himself, automatically angling his bottom to fit his lover's erection along his cleft. It wasn't until a hand covered his to help him pump that it sank through to him that he was supposed to be alone. Supposed to be putting some sexual space between them. The steely member fucking the channel of their hands snarled a disagreement and leaped, readying itself to spill.

"That's it," Jim whispered into his ear. "Let me be with you this time; let me share it with you."

"Jim," he whimpered in answer, reluctantly letting go of the leather he was suckling. "Fuck me, please? Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, f.... oh, oh, oh!, OH!"

Jim growled, tightening his hold, but he made no move to do as Blair wanted, not even bumping into the firm ass snuggling his dick. Wanting to beg for more, wanting to turn and take what he wanted, but held immobile by the mass of his lover, all Blair could do was use their hands violently, ripping his come from some vital place inside him. He would have sagged to the ground, but Jim's weight held him up, secure in his dim retreat until his breathing evened out and his head cleared. It was a strangely cozy feeling to be cuddled that way, and he let himself drift, waiting for Jim to decide what he wanted to do about the serious erection he was sporting.

Apparently not noticing it, Jim tunneled into the recess of the jacket draped over his lover until they were nose to nose in the makeshift hiding spot, his eyes serious and loving. "Babe..." He stopped, obviously looking for the right words. Running a single finger over his cheek to encourage him, Blair waited patiently, relieved that they were going to talk at last about what was happening. "Do you want to play this weekend?" Jim asked.

Figuratively catching his own jaw by the tips of his fingers, Blair stared at his lover, the totally unanticipated words hanging heavily between them. The last thing he'd expected was for Jim to want to indulge in the bondage/domination games they sometimes 'played', especially with Blair as out of control as he was. Opening his mouth, he started to remind his partner of exactly that, but what came out was a flat, "No."

"I think you need it, babe," Jim argued mildly, hands coming up to find their usual place in the long curls. "It might calm this hormone tsunami you're trying to swim through."

"I'm afraid to." It came out weak and shaky, and Blair began to tremble because, much as his mind was scrambling away from the promise of Jim naked and bound in front of him, his body was yearning toward it with single-minded devotion.

"You won't hurt me," Jim assured him silkily.

"Yes, yes I will," Blair denied weakly, his traitorous libido screaming its own demands. "I already *have.* And that was in a situation where you could have stopped me. If you were gagged and tied, and I lost it... It'd be way too easy to go too far."

Jim was silent long enough that Blair thought that he had won the argument, but then the sentinel brushed a butterfly light kiss over each eye lid. "Where ever you want or need to go, I want to go with you. No matter how far that is. We've never talked limits; I honestly don't think I have any with you."

"Man, oh, man," Blair nearly moaned. "I can't, Jim, I *can't* play right now. It won't be play, you understand? It'll be for real because it won't be for us; it'll be for me, all the way. Right at the moment I don't know if I could stop once we started, even if you seriously told me to. Needed me to. That's not games any more; that's not making love or having rowdy sex or even fucking. That's rape."

Pulling the jacket tighter around them like a shield between them and reality, Jim said hotly, "If that's supposed to convince me to let it drop, it's the wrong thing to say. Why do you think I love being tied down and taken? Even if it's only an illusion you're creating for my pleasure, the luxury of not being responsible, of not having the decisions, of having choice taken away from me, is what makes it so good. You know that."

"A warrior can't willingly lay aside his role," Blair said thoughtfully, able – and needing - for the moment to push away his own hunger and concentrate on Jim. "But if he fights until he's forced to, there's no loss to his manhood. If anything, the fight before the surrender validates it. That's virtually a given in many cultures." A partial smile touched his features, and he added, "I always thought it was the safety implied by the restraints that got to you. You couldn't hurt me, and, as your guide, I wouldn't do it to you if it wasn't safe for us to let go."

"That's probably part of it," Jim admitted, his voice dark and husky. "And I never bothered to analyze why rape fantasies are a button for me before now. All I'm sure of is that the idea of really being your helpless victim, having you truly using me for your own pleasure and not mine..." He shuddered, crushing his lower body into Blair's. "Make me," he muttered. "Make me come, Blair. Make me."

That was too much and Blair took his lover's lips as he wrapped arms and legs around the tall frame, humping his still clothed crotch over the pole trying to burst free of Jim's pants. Standing motionless, letting the smaller man do the work, Jim passively accepted the intruder in his mouth, offering no resistance to the suffocating intensity of the kiss. An immense rush of lust hit Blair in the gut at his warrior yielding to him, but he held it off, relishing his command in way that frightened him deeply even as he did it.

Using the wall for support, he worked his hands down to Jim's chest, not caring that the coat fell to the floor, leaving them exposed to the uncaring rooms of the loft. Carefully biting the fullness of a lower lip at the same time, he pinched both hardened nipples and shoved himself bruisingly into Jim's groin.

With a gasp his lover turned to stone, the front of his trousers becoming soaking wet as he emptied his load. When the stone reverted to weakened flesh, Blair unwound himself to ease the big man down to the floor, randomly kissing wherever he could. "Yes," he mumbled, his own needs prompting his agreement. "Yes, yes. Should I call Philip, or Lady Thea?"

Blinking, visibly trying to organize his thoughts, Jim snatched a hard kiss then took his key ring from the pocket of the coat he hadn't gotten around to talking off yet. "Here," he said, twisting a single, unremarkable key from it. "The address is 1440 Dewey, and it's the side basement door. Don't drive; take the T12bus. Make sure you're not followed; you know how to do that by now. There's a stop on Harley, a block away." As he spoke he grew more collected, almost has if he hadn't been begging to be raped seconds before.

Mystified, wondering how Jim could switch gears so fast, Blair sputtered, "A bus? Why..."

"Please trust me, Chief. You'll understand when you get there. Should I bring the toy bag, or do you want to improvise with what's on hand? I warn you, the accommodations are... minimal right now."

Intrigued despite himself, Blair asked, "We're going now? Right now?"

With a chuckle that transformed him back into an eager lover, Jim bumped into the hardon digging at him. "Unless you want to take care of this first."

Torn between satisfying his body, and satisfying his curiosity - and having the time and privacy to do it right - Blair shakily got to his feet. Trying not to get caught at it, he studied his partner, looking for a clue as to what would be best for them. There was undeniably hope in those brilliant clear eyes, and he said softly. "I'd rather wait. I'll clean up the mess here while you change, and you bring the toy bag. We'll meet in an hour. At 1440 Dewey."

*****end 2

He'd thought the long ride would cool his ardor considerably, especially since he liked studying the other passengers, speculating about the cultural changes that each one made to fit into the microcosm society that existed on a bus. But Blair couldn't keep himself from obsessing where he was going instead, and what was going to happen once he arrived. Though he had never consciously planned any 'scene' for their special sessions, he had always had a notion what he wanted to happen, in a very general way. This time he was clueless, his mind skipping erratically from possibility to possibility, each kinkier than the last.

He couldn't help but wonder if he shouldn't back out; some of the things that occurred to him would have terrified or disgusted him even as early as week ago. As powerful as the lure of totally unrestricted, uninhibited sex was, his fear of what it would do to their relationship, let alone any physical consequences, kept him teetering on the edge of panic.

By the time he reached his stop, he was almost unbearably excited and equally terrified, moving forward by sheer momentum. 1440 turned out to be an old factory converted into a parking/ storage facility for cars, boats and other vehicles. Following Jim's instructions, wondering if a RV or motor home was his ultimate destination, Blair found the basement side entrance and fit his key into it. To his surprise, it opened to a small foyer with another locked door at the other end. That lock was a keypad, more high tech than he had expected for the location.

Though Jim hadn't given him the code, Blair punched in the pin number for his partner's bankcard and the door swung aside on powered hinges to let him in. Curiosity momentarily overpowering everything else, he stepped inside hesitantly, closing and locking the door behind him.

It was a one room studio apartment, studiously neutral in color and empty except for an old fashioned four post bed, bigger than king sized, in one corner. A counter to the left enclosed a small kitchen nook that held only a dorm sized fridge and stove, with a few cabinets over them. There was an exit tucked behind that, another near the bed, and yet a third that stood partially ajar to his right. Nodding his head in agreement at the number of escape routes, he shifted to look through the open door, catching sight of a large claw-foot tub in a large bathroom.

Putting down his pack, he took another step into the room, wondering where his lover was. As if in answer to that, Jim appeared in the bathroom entrance, carrying a small basin, towel draped over his forearm. "Please stay there a minute," he asked in as neutral a voice as Blair had ever heard him use. He padded barefoot toward him, traces of dampness in his hair showing that he had just finished a shower.

When he reached his waiting partner, Jim gracefully folded down to the floor, putting the basin to one side. "This carpet hasn't been walked on since it was installed," he explained, half-smiling. "I'm trying to keep it as clean as possible. And no anal comments, please." As he spoke, he undid the laces on Blair's sneakers, helping him take them off, along with the socks. Once bare, Jim put a foot in the water, and washed first one, then the other for his lover. It was a surprisingly relaxing ritual, and Blair wiggled his toes in the thick carpet luxuriously, most of his anxieties about the weekend temporarily fading to the background.

"Okay, in this case," he answered playfully, "I can see where clean is good. Especially for your senses."

"Sandburg actually agreeing with one of my house rules? Call the press," Jim shot back dryly. He reclaimed one foot and lightly massaged the arch. "I'm going to suggest another one; when we're here to play, we leave the outside world at the door with our shoes. No cop business, no daily hassles, not even any sentinel stuff. Okay?"

He peeked up from under his lashes, looking strangely and endearingly shy, and the sight of him on his knees, willing and eager to please, re-lit the fire that Blair had held banked since agreeing to meeting Jim here. "One more," Blair added, barely able to force the words out through a throat tight with passion. "We always do it just like we did tonight. First one here is surrendering for the duration, and shows it by washing the other's feet. Agreed?"

"Yes, Blair."

Jim might as well have called him Sir or Master, and Blair threw away what control he had. Leaning down he kissed his slut's mouth, re-establishing ownership of it, catching the fine-boned wrists in his hands when Jim reached up to find his hair. Making living shackles for them, he held his lover prisoner as he straightened, shoving his crotch into the upturned face. Muttering incoherently, he rubbed himself all over the much-cherished features, watching the eyes avidly as they transmuted into blue flame as scorching as what was coursing through him.

Eyelids slowly lowered, mouth opened slightly, and nostrils flared as Jim dove into in the sensory flow, losing himself in it willingly. In their prison, his fingers flexed, not fighting, but assuring him that he was secure. "That's your god, isn't it, bitch?" Blair slurred out, pulling his captives down so that they were part of the flesh he stroked against. "Cock, my cock. Born to be a hole for me to use, living to submit to me."

"Yes, yes, yes, yes." It was an answer and an oath, and Jim spread his knees wide to proudly display what his owner's attentions were doing to him. "Yours. Love me, use me, hurt me. Yours."

"Mine," Blair whispered, and came, shooting in his pants as if he hadn't climaxed before in this lifetime. Groaning, Jim eagerly lapped at the dampness from it in the cloth of Blair's jeans, blindly stropping over it to get as much on him as he could to mark himself, all but purring as he did.

Blair let him, giving himself time to wallow in the pleasure of his release, but never freeing the wrists he held. In time his head cleared, and he sank to his knees, ordering sharply, "Unbutton your shirt, then tease your nipples." It felt odd but interesting for his hands to be passive passengers for the activity, and he licked his lips as Jim’s buds turned rosy and hard from their torment. "Now undo your pants and touch yourself."

Breathing harshly, Jim did as he was told, gathering his massive shaft into a careful grip. "Oh! I'm... unh! ... I'm close."

"Be still then. I'm not ready for you to come yet." It was taking all he had not to lean down at lick the nearly purple head, suck out the seed he could see firming and tightening the sac hanging under it, but Blair held on grimly. They had all weekend, and this time he wasn't going to rush them both toward a quick finish, dammit. Wanting to distract himself, he absently glanced around the room, with the vague idea of seeing how to fit its sparse furnishings into their sex-play.

Though the fog of desire something plucked at his observer's mind, and grateful for the momentary diversion, he latched onto it, bringing it into focus. It was the bed - a *big* bed, undoubtedly custom made, and from their position on the floor, he could see the broad leather straps attached to the frame underneath, all along the length of the mattress. He could see a gleam of metal attached to it, and a fast glance up showed more hooks discretely set into the heavy-duty posts and canopy supports.

Blinking, desire taking a back seat to his intellect for the moment, he rechecked the carpet, noticing for the first time how soft and plush it was, more than comfortable enough to sleep - or whatever - on. Though he couldn't examine the walls, he was suddenly willing to bet they were soundproofed and just as padded as the floor. From his vantage point, he could see a bath towel hanging from a rack, and it looked huge, lush, soft and probably very warm. Which probably wouldn't be needed given the room was warm enough to be wet and naked without being unduly uncomfortable.

This was a playroom, a blank one waiting for the touch of its Masters to make it ready for action.

But the key for it had come from Jim's key ring, the one that never left his person unless he was at home or forced to give it up. That piece of information, added to the multiple exits, double locks and powered door - to stop anyone from easily breaking it down - along with Jim's insistence that he ride the bus here to minimize the chance he was tailed, totaled up to one thing. It wasn't just a playroom; it was a safe house as well. *Their* safehouse.

Inside him that fact, along with a great many others concerning his sentinel and their lives together, flipped and turned, like the pieces of a game. The board showed one color dominating, spelling out a chance at a victory he didn't know he'd been seeking or if he wanted. "Jim," he said casually, totally belying the rocket-like takeoff of his heartbeat, for once not caused by arousal, "Did you buy or lease this place?"

Unwittingly he held his breath, scared of the answer. It took a moment to come, as Jim had to force his mind out of his pants so that he could think well enough to speak. While he tried to wear a stony demeanor, a trace of worry lined the corners of his mouth and eyes, showing he understood what Blair was really asking.

"We own it, though our real names aren't on the deed," he said honestly, meeting Blair's gaze. "Later I'll show you where the ID that matches them is. And unless someone knew where to look, there's no paper trail connecting us to this address."

"How long?" Blair asked blankly, not sure he wanted to hear months, let alone years.

"Having a safe house has been in the back of my mind since the time Colonel Oliver went hunting for you," Jim said bluntly. "But it was only when we became lovers I started to work on it, just in case you needed it." He stopped, eyes darting down to where their linked hands held his waning manhood. "It wasn't until I ordered the bed that I thought it might be a good place for this. Just didn't know if you wanted a permanent place for our games, too. Guess I've been waiting for the right time to tell you it existed."

// Leave it to Jim to ask for a commitment by handing me a key,// Blair thought dazedly. //And leave it to me not to realize what he was suggesting because my libido was leading the way. Question is, do I keep it?// Out loud he asked slowly, "Why now?"

Jim started to pull away, but Blair read his intent in the sudden tension in the wrists he held, and tightened his grip. "No. No, retreat. Tell me. I've never made it a secret that I love you. And you've never once said it back to me. You're offering up the promise of a future together, and you do it this way, with those words still unspoken. Why now?"

Under his fingers he could feel his lover's erection fade completely and part of him started gibbering that he had to back track off the serious stuff, and do it fast, if he didn't want to be sleeping alone again. Automatically he began to pet the softened flesh, unwilling to give up on their sex-life. If nothing else, he was confident of his ability to please his partner in bed.

As if that had been the key game piece, the board was cleared, and Blair thought with dawning wonder, //And that's *all* I'm sure of, where Jim is concerned. That he wants me, and we're good together. I love him so much I can hardly breathe, and sex has been the only way I've been able to reassure myself that he feels something for me. No wonder I've been trying to screw him to death. Stupid, stupid, stupid.//

Belatedly he realized that their silence had gone on too long, and he dragged himself out of his introspection. Jim had not only totally wilted, he'd retreated behind the stony blankness Blair hated so much. Obviously, for whatever reason, Jim wasn't going to answer his question. //Since when does Jim 'say' when he can 'do,' anyway? This whole place is a way of showing me what he wants, how he feels. But *why* won't he say it, too and why am I desperate to hear it?//

Accepting that it was important to him, maybe to both of them, for the words to be spoken, Blair mentally dug in his heels. //Okay, no problem. I have a way to get him to talk, to do anything I want, and I have the most important reason in the world to use it: the rest of our lives.// Not letting the unrelenting expression in front of him deter him, he rose to his feet, perforce taking Jim with him.

"Do you want the key back?" A single sharp shake of no was the reply. "Do you want to stay here this weekend?" A nod this time. Taking in a chest-aching lung full of air, Blair said clearly, "Go sit on the bottom edge of the bed and wait for me, just as you are." Without waiting to see if he was obeyed, he went into the bathroom. Once safely behind the closed door, he grabbed the edge of the sink and hung on, shaking violently. So much was at stake, more than the first time he had shown up at Jim's hotel room, presenting himself as a paid for boytoy for the night. The worse thing that could have happened that night was the loss of a dear friend and partner.

Tonight he stood to loose the heart and soul of his sentinel/lover if he couldn't navigate through Jim's conditioned and instinctive emotional blocks, and his own confusion. Mechanically he cleaned himself thoroughly, inside and out, distantly noting that he was right: the towels were as soft as they looked. The same vague curiosity had him opening the medicine cabinet; it was stocked with supplies. He hadn't known they made KY in tubes that big. A box caught his attention, and he picked it up, the beginning of a plan clarifying itself. Without dressing, he strolled back into the main room, assuming an air of confidence that he didn't feel.

The man waiting for him perched on the end of the bed had such an air of dejection and sorrow about him that Blair hesitated, suddenly unsure they shouldn't stop right now. Shirt opened to the waist, pants gaping to reveal a shrunken penis, Jim was staring nothing, jaw muscle working overtime at clenching teeth. His fists were embedded in the mattress, knuckles first, but his shoulders were slumped with an unseen weight, not straight with withheld anger. But it was the pain lurking in the shadowed recesses of that unblinking gaze that told Blair they couldn't back out, not tonight.

Slowly he made his way over to the bed, coming to stand in front of Jim, making no effort to disguise his own flaccid state. Sighing, he scrubbed a hand over his lover's shorter hair, mussing it to the rumpled state he liked best. "Have I told you lately how beautiful I think you are?" he said, startling himself and his partner. He was thinking it, but hadn't intended to say it, though it suddenly seemed the perfect way to start again.

"Not just sexy, or handsome, or gorgeous, or easy to look at, and definitely nothing so bland as cute. Beautiful. Sometimes wild like the jaguar you dream of, sometimes reserved and untouchable like a hot house rose, sometimes spectacular like a hummingbird on wing, but always beautiful."

At each word more of the rigidity in Jim's body disappeared, until he was half-smiling and angling his head for more of the light caress. "I'd tell you that you're full of it, Chief," he said softly, "But you'd probably make me eat my words somewhere along the line if I did."

"Well, I have plans for making you eat *something,* anyway," Blair joked gently, nudging apart his lover's knees so he could stand between them.

At the unspoken invitation Jim wrapped both arms around Blair’s waist and pulled him close, hiding his face in the curve of neck and shoulder. "No, please, no, anything but that," Jim said so insincerely that he jarred a chuckle from Blair, despite the unease lingering between them.

"I've got you now, my beauty," the smaller man returned in his best ham-actor voice, deciding to play along if it would help Jim relax. "You will submit to my vile desires or the family homestead is mine."

"You beast, you brute. Have you no decency? Have you no honor? Have you a good supply of KY?" The sentinel had the bad-actress delivery down pat, and for a split second Blair didn't register the meaning of the last question.

When he did, he toppled forward, knocking Jim to his back and landing on top of him. "Underneath every prude is a slut waiting to get out, isn't there?" His wide grin took the any insult that might be in the words and turned them into a compliment as honest as his earlier comments on the big man's looks.

"Well, I can't speak for the general population," Jim started, but Blair stopped him with a delicate sweep of lips over lips.

*** end 3

"Whose slut are you, Jim?" Blair whispered, mouths still touching, deliberately summoning the heat that had been between them earlier. "Tell me again."

"Yours." There was barely enough air behind the word to hear it, and Jim's eyes widen at the sudden change, but Blair felt a hitch in the chest under his when it came out.

"Mine to do with as I want?" Slick and tender, lips slid over lips. Blair bumped his nose into Jim's, pleased to hear an in-drawn breath.

"Yessss...." the breath hissed out.

"Who's your whore, sweet slut?" Gingerly Blair put more of his weight on his lover, slipping down his hands to find Jim's.

"You are." Guessing accurately at what was intended, Jim offered his wrists for strong fingers to lock around.

"Your very exclusive," Blair dipped in for a taste of tongue, "Very expensive," he coaxed out Jim's to suck on it, "Very discriminating whore," he agreed finally, breathily. "Who wants to fuck you comatose."

"Please." Another hissed answer, and Jim brought up his arms, Blair's hands still latched on, stretching them over his head, taking all of his partner's weight without strain. "Oh, god, Blair,' he blurted, eyelids slamming down as if to hide from his own confession, "I can't even think of words to tell you how badly I want it, how crazy I am inside to have you do things, anything, to me"

"If it's anything like the jones that's been riding me for the past few weeks," Blair told him, shifting to both accommodate their growing erections and to pin his captive more firmly on the bed, "Crazy doesn't even begin to cover it. Possessed, maybe."

"Loved having you after me constantly. Loved scenting you, ready and rowdy. Loved being touched constantly." The big man began a gentle undulation, apparently not aware that he was doing it.

"Jim!" Blair moaned, then forcefully sealed his mouth over his lover's. They rocked together in growing urgency, until Blair peeled himself away, laboring to get some air into himself. "Don't move." It didn't sound much like an order, more like a plea, but Jim did as asked, eyes avidly following as the smaller man squirmed up to grab the toy bag at the top of the bed.

Taking out a long leather ribbon, Blair looped it once around one of the bars in the headboard, then tied Jim's hands together. It was only a token knot; the sentinel could undo it in a few minutes with patience and care, but it was enough to secure the long arms over Jim's head. The bound man tugged once, nodding in satisfaction.

Quivering inside, Blair scooted off the bed completely, pillows in hand and bestowing a kiss in passing. "Bring your ass down all the way to the edge. Yeah, like that." Efficiently he worked off the jeans and boxers, tossing them carelessly away. "Now, knees to chest." As Jim lifted his legs, his backside rose enough for Blair to cram the pillows under it, leaving it at the right level for him to use while standing. "Hold on, hold on," he murmured, quickly fishing out the restraints attached to the frame. In short order they were arranged to comfortably hold Jim in position with no effort on his part needed.

Blair stepped back to survey his handiwork, admiring the totally helpless and inviting body being served up to him. A man on his knees could fight, could pretend he had a choice. A man on his back, arms tied over his head, legs bent all the way up to give maximum access to cock and pucker was a slut desperate to be fucked. And to judge by the degree of hardness of the tower sticking straight up from Jim's crotch, head wet and ruddy, his lover was fully aware of that.

Looking around, Blair found the box he'd brought from the bathroom earlier and retrieved it from where he'd dropped it, forgotten the moment he'd given his attention to loving his sentinel. "I like this," he told Jim conversationally, holding it up for the other man to see. "Lube in little packets designed to dissolve in the body. Tidier than squeezing it out of a tube, if you don't mind the premeditation of deciding to use them."

Not wanting or expecting a comment from his panting prisoner, Blair took three of the packets out and tucked them into the clenched opening. "I'll check to see if that's enough in a while," he murmured. "In the meantime, close up tight; I don't want any to dribble out just yet."

"Feels funny," Jim muttered, not really complaining. "I can feel it breaking down, slicking me up inside."

"Whoa. Cool." Blair put his pinky fingertip on the ring of muscle, barely touching it. "You're focused on touch right now?"

"A little." Jim tried to push down on the digit, but his bonds held, and the movement was barely a wiggle. "In me?" he asked trying for casual.

"Not yet." With the lightest touch he could produce, Blair stroked over the portal. "Concentrate on here."

"Uhn!" The skin all along the perineum and thighs shivered. "Please? In me? Just one finger, please?"

"In a minute." Blair blew a soft stream of air over the rosette, watching in fascination as it twitched and winked at him.

"OH! Blair! P.. p.. please! A toy? The big one?"

Taking a strand of his hair, Blair wet the end in his mouth. "No. Ask again, and I won't fill you at all tonight." When he had a sharp point, he traced a damp circle in the solid flesh of an inner thigh with it, then blew on his art to dry it.

Jim shut his mouth, pinching the lips into a thin line, a funny noise grumbling in his chest. Not laughter, it was too raw. Idly Blair drew another circle on the other side, listening to his victim closely: hunger, pleading, and worry. Good combination and nothing but a growl to express it. He planted a tiny kiss in the imaginary circles, then painted yet another, this time right around the very rim of the Jim's opening. Definitely hunger and pleading in that cry; the worry was probably because Jim knew perfectly well that he wasn't going to be entered any time soon.

Returning the spit soaked lock to his mouth over and over, Blair traced every wrinkle and crease in the taut pucker, sending soft puffs of air to dry it. By the time he'd done the job to his satisfaction, Jim was whimpering non-stop, the muscles of his arms standing out in tendon-straining relief. His eyes were screwed shut, and his chest was laboring to keep up with his need for air. "Fucking beautiful," Blair whispered, and dropped his head to bite the tender bud hard enough to leave teeth marks.

Above him he heard a garbled scream and he lifted his head in time to see the first spurt of come geyser out of Jim, going almost straight up in the air before falling to the convulsing belly. It was an impressive amount, and splattered his captive from chin to balls before beginning to drip down into the crack that Blair had been tormenting.

Daintily Blair lapped up the overflow there, then climbed up on the bed and turned himself around so that his knees were on other side of Jim's head, and his own seriously erect cock was bobbing over the blissed-out features. Too far gone in his release to verbally acknowledge the treat hovering over him, Jim still sniffed deeply, his tongue darting out to try for a taste. Blair let him have it, but didn't hold still for anything more than whatever kisses and licks his captive could get in while he set about cleaning up the thick cream all over Jim's torso with more delicate, scattered licks. Taking his time, he worked his way down, occasionally pulling back to rub his hard-on over whatever part of Jim was handy, until he was stretched full length over him, snuggly cuddled between Jim's secured legs.

By the time he finished the firm balls, Jim was growing hard again, the length itself a challenge to Blair's very determined intent to sample every inch of it from bottom to top. Under him Jim was using his mouth delightfully, leaving love marks every where he could on thighs and abdomen. Wanting to save the best for last, the smaller man stopped his oral ravishment before he reached the waiting crown and sat back on his heels, leaving his ass square over his lover's face.

Jim didn't disappoint him. He latched onto the opening with a sucking, biting kiss as soon as it was within reach, tongue fucking the musky gate with almost painful intensity. Despite that, Blair touched himself with leisurely sensuality, pulling and twisting his nipples, scratching lightly through his chest hair, tugging on his cock a few times. The contrast of Jim's ferocity and his own relaxed exploration was incredibly erotic, and he made a note of it for later use.

When his climax drew up his balls, making them ache, he shifted backwards and went to all fours over Jim's head, looking down his own chest to see his hard-on dipping and weaving as his lover tried to fasten onto it. "Be still, he muttered. "I'm going to give it to you, suck-slut. Going to empty myself into that hungry mouth."

Air rushing in and out of his chest in frantic haste, Jim did as he was told, though he titled back his head and dropped his jaw for his mouth to be used. Tentatively, because of the odd angle, Blair pumped once, but Jim took it easily, and he couldn't hold off any longer. The very sight of his cock sliding into that hot cavern, let alone the heat of it on him, propelled him into maniacally fucking Jim's face, coming far more quickly than he wanted.

His animal brain kept him up on his arms through the powerful spasms; the rest of him nearly drowned under the onslaught of his release. When his intelligence drifted back to where it belonged, he snapped his mouth shut on the last of the hoarse grunts of satisfaction spilling from him.

Reluctantly he climbed off his lover, this time reminding himself that Jim was going to need a long, hot bath to ease the stiffness he was sure to have in his legs from having them bent and tied for so long. "Oh!" Jim complained softly at his loss as Blair's semi-hard cock was removed. "More? Blair, more?"

"Not yet," Blair promised equally quiet. "I haven't been able to decide if I want you to swallow me again or take it up your ass the next time. You're so good at both." He took a few items from the toy bag then went back to the foot of the bed, checking the restraints as he went.

"God!" Jim's dick bounced hard, once, leaving a trail of pre-cum from its tip to his stomach. "Oh, God! Either! Soon?"

"As often as you've had me lately and you still need it that bad? Greedy slut," Blair chided, laughter peeking around the edges of the words. He rested his hands on the leather holding Jim down at the hips, petting it as if it were living flesh.

"Never get enough of you." Restlessly Jim stretched as much as he could, provocatively drawing attention to his well-developed chest and shoulders. "Never *want* to get enough of you. Soon, lover? Soon?"

"No." Settling down on the floor so that Jim couldn't see him at all, Blair made himself comfortable, or as comfortable as he could be with half a hardon pointing out very eagerly that there was a wonderful place to plunge into mere inches away. Tempted to slap it because he had something very important to do before giving in, he instead looked over the tense pucker, nodding in satisfaction that there was only a trace of the lube inside it glistening on the outside. "You kept it all in. Good! Can you tell if you're slick enough inside for me to fill you?" he asked off-handedly, tentatively putting a fingertip on the opening.

"Yes!" Jim answered eagerly, straining at the leather holding him to offer himself up. "Yes!"

"Not so fast, fuck-slut." Picking up the fur mitten he'd brought with him, Blair put his hand inside it. "I want to make sure you appreciate it when you get it. Focus on where my hand is. Now, please."

Killing a disappointed mumble, Jim stilled to concentrate on doing what he was told, sagging into the mattress as he did. At that moment Blair firmly stroked the entire area from balls to cleft with the fur, sending Jim as far into the air as he was capable of going, giving a strangled gasp as he did. "Blair!"

"Like that?"

"What did you *do*!!" Jim was barely understandable; his breaths were coming so fast and choked.

"Nevermind that. Would it be better if the dial were up a tiny, tiny bit?" Sweat was beginning to drip into his eyes, but Blair only swiped it away, determinedly keeping his voice level and dispassionate as he massaged.

"I... aaaa... miniature fingers, thousands of 'em, so soft, so soft." Jim's answer was nearly incoherent, making it obvious that deliberately moving an eyelash, let alone a mental dial was pretty much beyond him.

With occasional forays onto thighs and ass cheeks, Blair used the fur on his lover until the big man was sobbing, writhing against his restraints. Gradually he increased pressure and concentrated his touch until it was only on Jim's shaft, masturbating him in ever slowing strokes. When his hand was stationary except for the involuntary jerks of a man far gone in sexual delirium, Blair stood, laying his own screaming need along Jim's crease.

"Loosen up some, fuck hole," he instructed, the words wobbling ever so slightly. "Just enough for some lube to drip out." Against his overly sensitized cock he could feel the ripple as Jim automatically did as he was told, and a careful thrust spread the slickness. "Good, very good. Has my rod got enough on it? I want to stuff you to the brim with a single stroke."

"Wha?" Jim mumbled, quivering from head to toe.

"Can I take you in one shove?" Blair growled out. "Are you ready for that?"

"I..." He struggled to focus, to obediently answer. "...I ... yes."

"Don't lie to me. If I tear you, I'll know right away, and I'll stop fucking you. Now, are you loose enough, wet enough?" Straddling the thin line of making Jim talk but not able to *think* was making Blair shake in need, but he did it.

"... dunno... *feels* like it."

"Good, my own, good. Not much longer now." He waited a heartbeat, then asked as he put his head at the edge of entrance to Jim’s body. "Why did you think now would be a good time to give me that key?"

For all the care to get past the sentinel's defenses, Jim froze, eyes flying open to drill into Blair's. Seeing the stubbornness there, coaxed by the pressure he craved, he licked at his lips, then answered, "You fell in love with me."

"Huh?" Despite himself, Blair leaned a little harder into the pucker, so super-aware of his own cock that he could almost count the folds resisting his entry. "I've loved you for ages."

There was an audible swallow, and a thrum in the very hard tool he held, but Jim said clearly, "Yes, but you're *in love* now, Chief. Your heart beats like mad when you stand near me. Can't keep your eyes, let alone your hands off me. You're eager to spend every moment you can with me, even if it’s only watching the tube."

Breaking away from that too revealing stare, Blair looked down at where he was about to breach his beloved's body, thinking of how much more this act had meant to him since he'd stumbled in the dark over the vision of a sleeping angel. "Yes," he agreed in a sentinel low whisper, finally understanding his own actions, and slid all the way into Jim, making his grip on his lover cruel to prevent his finish, shuddering in ecstasy as the tight channel surrounded him. "Yes," he repeated when his balls were snug against Jim's ass, when he could find a voice to speak with. "That's why I crave possession of you like a drug. Why I want to hurt you so that I have proof that I've had you."

"Dear God, dear God! I need you to move, please move in me, please, Blair, move!!!" Jim begged shamelessly.

"Is that why?" Blair husked out, not giving in to the pleas of either his lover or his body.

"Yes, oh yes. Why the hunger is a constant ache in you." Jim muttered, tossing his head, pulling at the leather holding his arms with inhuman strength. "Please, please, please..."

As slowly as he could, Blair pulled all the way out, hardly hearing his own whimpers as he did. From somewhere he found the will to ask, "You know the answer because you're in love with me. I know that; there's never been a doubt in my mind. But why can't you *say* it, Jim? Why?" For a second he let the hungry ring flex around the head of his cock, sending shocks of pleasure all through him, almost derailing his thought process. Then he penetrated the guardian muscle again, trying to go even more slowly this time. "Why?" he pleaded.

"Don't make me tell, don't, don't, don't." Jim's voice was so raw he was barely understandable.

"I have to, oh, I have ..." Blair lost it and began to pound away at his slut, making the whole bed quake with his thrusts. "Tell me!" he screamed, his covered fist beating on the tall, tall column of flesh. "Tell me!"

Jim resisted until Blair twisted, stabbing his cock into the most tender part of the tunnel it was abusing. Then he whispered brokenly, "Because I'll lose you, I'll lose you, oh, god, I'll lose you." He thrashed powerfully, but his bonds held, and he chanted, nearly inaudibly, "Please, please, please, please."

Not knowing exactly what Jim was begging for, Blair tucked away the words with the last two rational brain cells he had, and set out to fuck his man through the bed. It had never been so good, never roared hotter or sweeter along his nerves, never felt more like he was simply an extension of his mate designed only for their pleasure.

His end came in a nova brilliant explosion of joy, radiating out from where he jammed himself as far as he could into Jim, blanking out his awareness of anything else. His roar of completion had an echo, deeper and more resonant, and he rejoiced at the knowledge of Jim reduced to the same condition as himself just before his overloaded mind surrendered completely and dropped him into unconsciousness.

****

He woke as abruptly as he had fainted, to find himself snug under his lover, nose pressed into the broad chest, his hair idly trifled with by long fingers. "Man," he murmured. "First time *that's* happened."

Jim chuckled, the sound vibrating against Blair's cheek interestingly. "I don't know whether to be honored or pissed, my own."

"Musta been.. ah..." Blair started.

"Terrifying?" Jim inserted.

"Yeah, well, guess having me faint while you're all tied up is not the best way to induce post coital euphoria." Much too happy and relaxed to bother with being guilty, Blair nuzzled at the living wall squashing him.

"I managed. That's why we used the quick release knots and Velcro." Jim didn't seem too bothered by it, either, which undid what little worry Blair had except for one thing.

Trying to be sneaky about it, he angled for a look at Jim's wrist, not surprised to see a broad red welt around it from the restraint. Wincing, he snagged a finger as it went by, sucking it into his mouth briefly. When he released it, he asked, "How sore are you? I was pretty violent there at the end."

"Nothing a hot soak won't handle. Don't worry; playtime isn't any where near over." He scrunched back a bit, as if to try to see into Blair's face. "That is, if you're still interested."

Again with typical Jim verbal shorthand his lover was asking far more than more the words themselves said, and Blair chose to answer in kind. "Does the key you gave me work on all the other doors or do we need to get copies made for the other locks on the way home Monday?" He didn't need to ask what Jim had meant by saying that he would lose Blair if he said 'I love you.' His sentinel had literally lost everyone he had ever said those words to through death, deceit, distance or growing indifference. Promises wouldn't work in this case, and he couldn't promise that he would never die, besides. All that would work was time and patience.

"That's the only key; the rest are keypads and one of the exits can't be seen from the outside. I'll have to show you the hidden switch for it." There was a smile in the words, the shy-half size one that Blair loved so much.

"Okay," Blair agreed, smiling himself. "In the meantime how about that bath, then maybe a rubdown to help, too?"

"Sounds good." Jim made no effort to move, sighing a little as he settled more solidly over Blair. "Are you going to use that fur thing on me again? If you do, we'll just end up making me stiff all over again."

"Ouch. Bad pun, man, bad, bad pun." Blair didn't move either, except to hook an ankle over one of Jim's calves. "Liked that, huh?"

"Mmmmmm." Angling his head, Jim found an earlobe to nibble on a second, then mumbled, "Didn't mean it as a pun. Damn thing drove me out of my mind; would have ridden a light pole if one had been handy, and damn if you didn't *feel* like one, the way you made me focus on my asshole."

"Well, that was the idea." With a few judicious squirms Blair found a nipple and whispered against it for the air to tickle and tease, 'Kay, then. Fur stays. But I want to try the feather next."

"Feather?" The question was puzzled and Blair ignored it to lick his target.

"Feather?" Jim repeated. This time the question was startled, both from the wet tongue and the thoughts on what uses a feather could have.

"Right." Sighing, Jim arched into the suction on his chest, and agreed with growing enthusiasm. "Feather."

"And after that," Blair murmured, releasing one bud to travel on a wet tongue trail to the other, "and after that...."

finis