by Sihaya Black

Blair Sandburg shivered and groaned. Life had never been better.

He was naked, flat on his back in bed with a pillow tucked under his hips, his hands gripping the sweat-slicked backs of his knees, pulling his legs up and apart, baring all to the fully-clothed man who knelt before him.

And what that man was doing...

It was only four weeks since they had become lovers. Twenty-eight days since Jim had confessed his love - a confession that stunned and thrilled Blair - and a sentiment that he returned with his whole heart.

That is, if his heart would stand up to this kind of torment.

He groaned again, and a hand slid around the curve of his hip and up the length of his thigh, rubbing his knee briefly before retracing its path. Blair's eyes fluttered open and he craned his neck until he could see Jim's dark head moving over his groin. He wasn't touching Blair... yet. No, the man was only driving him to an early grave by breathing on him, scenting him carefully, and then sending small, tantalizing puffs of air over his exposed flesh. Blair dropped his head back and shivered as a particularly well-aimed breath circled his hole, and then gasped when Jim's hands, cradling his butt, stretched his cheeks wide. Another breath made him call his lover's name, pleading.

Jim did not move his hands but bent his head and kissed the taut skin, flicking his tongue over the ridged flesh, making Blair shout with surprise. Surprise, and deep, bone-jarring pleasure. Jim had never done that before, and it felt... It felt like nothing else on earth.

"Again..."

Jim stilled, and Blair raised his head and blinked down at his lover.

"Only..." He cleared his throat and tried again. "Only if you want to..."

A strange half-smile ghosted Jim's lips, and he tilted his head to one side.

"You like it?"

"Oh, yeah..." Blair let his head fall back and smiled at the ceiling. Yeah, he liked it.

Jim kissed him again, and as he shivered and panted, Blair thanked whatever deity happened to be in charge at the moment that his lover was a man of action, not words. Kisses turned into licks, which turned into tiny nibbles that almost sent Blair screaming up the walls in pleasure.

As if he could sense Blair was overloading, Jim moved his head up and nuzzled Blair's already tight balls. Blair squirmed in his grasp, his fingers clutching at his slick thighs, trying to pull his legs as wide as possible. His ass was sensitive, cool and wet, and he wanted Jim back down there to warm him up with his mouth and tongue and to finish the job.

With a small sigh, Jim kissed each ball and moved up to his cock, mouthing the base and bestowing long, lazy licks up the sides. Quivering, Blair arched his back as much as possible and his rasping breath sounded thunderous in his ears. His cock felt three feet long and a foot wide, pulsing with the rapid staccato of his pounding heart. Jim's mouth continued its delicious work up and down the sides of his cock, tracing designs of ever-increasing complexity over the tender skin as Blair shifted beneath him and moaned.

Jim's hands shifted on his ass, releasing the pressure for a moment, and then returned, pulling even harder, stretching him until Blair thought he'd split in two. Blair's moan turned into a strangled scream as Jim simultaneously sucked Blair's cock into his mouth and slid two slick fingers inside his hole, twisting them firmly in the tight passage. His mouth open to suck in air, as his lover's was open to suck his cock, Blair tried to thrust into that soft warmth, but was prevented by the tight grip on, and in, his ass. He grunted his frustration and stilled, his body thrumming and quivering. He could hardly contain himself; he felt like he was going to explode...

Gentle movement around his cock sent a raging fire along his nerves and he thrashed his head on the mattress, moaning, but kept the rest of his body as still as possible. He was rewarded with more movement and pressure, slick suctioning warmth that steadily increased, building the intensity until he was gasping and calling for release.

And then the fingers began to move, wiggling inside his tightly-stretched hole, pulling him apart. He could feel them rub against the snug muscle, coaxing it to loosen little by little, stretching and massaging, the initial sharp flare of sensation banking down into embers that spread an even heat over his ass and groin, relaxing him even as he reached for climax.

A long pull, a rough tongue dragged over the head of his cock, another twist inside him and he was coming, shooting deeply into his lover's throat, writhing on the damp sheets and rasping out an order for Jim.

"Fuck me now, dammit!"

He ignored the soft chuckle that greeted his words, but groaned when his cock was released and the fingers withdrew. The sound of the metal zipper was loud in his ears, as was Jim's groan of relief, and he wriggled his ass impatiently.

"Ready?"

He nodded.

Then he was slowly filled with his lover's cock and finally, finally, he could relax and enjoy the boneless lassitude that enveloped him. As Jim came to rest against his thighs and he could feel the soft tickle of Jim's much-washed jeans - fucking jeans, they both called them - Blair released his hold on his legs and sank into the mattress. With a snort, Jim caught his legs and supported them as he steadily thrust in and out of Blair.

Too tired to do anything but receive his lover's attentions, Blair rocked on the bed, thankful that the sheets were soft, well-washed cotton and he didn't have to worry about rug burns on his back, unlike one memorable occasion a week and a half ago. Although they were worth it, and he grinned at the memory.

"Jim, you are the best lover, my best friend," he whispered, pleased when Jim's thrusts sped up. Blair had also discovered, during the infamous Night of the Rug Burns, that Jim loved to be talked to as they fucked. Not dirty, but sweetly, tenderly, and he had filled Jim with his words as he'd filled him with his cock. It had been an incredible night. "I love it when you're inside me, or I'm inside you..." he continued, and Jim moaned and his hands shook. "I love it when you love me..."

He stretched his hands above his head and braced himself on the railing. Jim was pounding into him, and Blair kept up the whispered encouragement as his lover sweated and strained and his own cock began to fill again. He loved doing this to Jim, loved it when Jim responded so readily to his words, loved it when Jim teetered so precariously on the edge of losing control. Blair wished that somehow he could push him over that steep precipice, find a way to allow Jim to safely freefall, to spiral out of control without having to worry about crashing and burning.

Jim grunted and his hands quivered on Blair's thighs. He was close, so close: Blair could feel his lover's cock pulsing deep inside him, almost ready...

"We're one person right now, Jim," he panted, his own cock gliding wetly against his stomach, leaving a sticky trail. "One body, one heart, one soul. We're complete..."

With a harsh cry, Jim thrust in deep, his hips jerking arrhythmically as he emptied himself. Blair reached down with one hand and stroked his cock once, twice, three times before he spurted over his stomach and chest. Quickly he wiped himself off with a bit of sheet and then reached up to his lover, arms open in welcome. Jim leaned forward, eyes already closed, and nestled his head on Blair's chest.

"Love you," Blair murmured as he stroked Jim's head, sighing as he felt his lover's cock slip from his body.

Jim turned his head and nuzzled Blair's chest before heaving himself to one side with a groan. Blair echoed his groan as he lowered his legs and stretched.

"You're going to kill me one day, Sandburg," Jim said, throwing his arm over his face.

"Not a chance, man." Blair turned on his side and wiped off Jim's cock with another clean bit of sheet, then draped an arm and a leg over him. "I'm going to keep you around as my devoted slaveboy."

Snorting, Jim curled his arm around Blair and gave him a soft smack on his shoulder. "Yeah, right."

Blair began to unbutton Jim's shirt one-handed. "Lemme get these clothes offa you, and I'll show you-" He was interrupted by the phone.

With a sigh, Jim reached out and grabbed it.

"Ellison."

There was a long pause, and Jim reached down and tucked himself back into his jeans, then zipped up. When he looked at Blair, his eyes were troubled.

Blair sat up and began to gather up his clothes. He just hoped he'd have enough time for a quick shower before heading out on whatever new case this turned out to be.

"Just a sec," Jim said, then he covered the mouthpiece. "Wait, Chief. It isn't a case."

"Then who..."

"It's Harry Edwards."

"Oh, shit." Blair dropped his clothes and, forgetting his recent activities, winced as he sat down on the bed. "What the hell does he want?"

Jim shrugged and his gaze slid to the floor. He took his hand off the mouthpiece. "Yeah, Harry, he's here. He says hi... No, you didn't disturb anything... Ummm, let me see if he's available." Covering the mouthpiece again, Jim kept his eyes on the floor. "Harry wants to go out with us for dinner tomorrow."

"No way!"

"He-" Jim bit off the rest of the words, then looked up at Blair, his face calm, but his eyes pleading. "I need to do this, Chief. I owe it to him."

"You don't owe him a goddam thing, Jim! After what he did to you..." Blair took a shuddering breath, remembering how he had found Jim after Harry had been abruptly called away from their... rendezvous. Tied up in that hotel room. Vulnerable. Exposed. Hurting so bad... "How fucking careless he was with you-"

Jim closed his eyes and removed his hand again. "Listen, Harry, I don't think it's going to be possible..." He paused, his eyes fluttering open, and cocked his head to one side. "You can try..." and he shrugged, as if he didn't think much of Harry's chances.

He held out the phone to Blair. "He wants to talk to you," he said simply, and got up when Blair reluctantly took the phone.

"Yeah?" He watched Jim move to the other side of the room, his back to the bed.

Harry's voice came through, tinny and hollow. "Blair, I'm sorry. But it's over and done with. Jim's forgiven me for my stupidity. Can't you?"

Taking a deep breath, he kept his eyes on the stiff and still figure across the room. "Not in this lifetime."

Harry's sigh gusted across the line. "Okay. I can live with that. But I'd still like to explain some things now that you're together."

"How do you know we're together?" He kept his voice cold.

"Because," Harry replied with a chuckle, "I know how Jim feels about you. When I met you, it was obvious you're head-over-heels in love with him, so when we were at dinner I told Jim to stop being a clam and tell you how he felt. It took a long time to convince him to stop suffering in silence, the stubborn jackass, which is why we were so late that night." Harry's voice softened. "The guy thinks he's not worth loving, you know..."

Blair blinked, stunned by the unexpected words. "Yeah, I know," he whispered.

"Listen, you don't have to forgive me," Harry said brusquely. "But I think it would be a good idea to meet for dinner - for Jim's sake. What do you say?"

Mouth reluctantly crooking in a smile, Blair snorted. "You're good, man. Very, very good."

"That's my job," was the placid reply. "O'Brien's at eight tomorrow?"

Staring at Jim's back, Blair nodded thoughtfully. "All right. Eight. But I still reserve the right to hate your guts."

"If it makes you feel better, that's fine with me," Harry shot back. "I just want what's best for Jim."

"That we can agree on," Blair said. "See you tomorrow." He punched the button to disconnect and dropped the phone on the bed before crossing the room to stand next to Jim.

"You didn't tell me he was a manipulative bastard," Blair began quietly, venturing a soft touch to the center of Jim's rigid back.

"You don't need to treat me like I'm a fragile flower." Jim turned and frowned at him, but didn't move away.

"Jim," he said drily, rubbing a small circle on Jim's back, "you're a lot of things, but believe me, a fragile flower isn't one of them. And I treat you just fine."

"Don't humor me, Chief."

"Thought never crossed my mind, man." He looked at his lover and smiled warmly. "You're a rock, you know. A fucking mountain."

Jim snorted, but he returned the smile. "You're so full of shit, Sandburg," he said, and trailed his fingers down Blair's chest.

"Well," he replied, as if considering, desperately trying to ignore the way his cock was starting to stir again. Again! Who did it think he was? Blair Sandburg, ubermensch? "I'd rather be full of shit than a pile of rocks."

Jim's fingers continued down, past his fluttering stomach, past his valiantly twitching cock, to carefully grasp his balls. "I'm going to ignore the obvious comment, here," he murmured, his other arm wrapping around Blair's hips, his other hand snaking between Blair's cheeks to dabble gently at the sticky place between his legs. "How about a shower?"

Blair shivered; his ass was so sensitive it was almost painful. Jim pressed two fingers over it, and the firm pressure made him catch his breath at the bolt of pleasure that shot through him, and then sigh regretfully. His poor cock wanted to be interested, was trying desperately to give the appearance of being interested, but it just wasn't going to work.

"The spirit's willing, man, but the flesh, y'know, is pretty much out for the count."

Jim released his balls and guided Blair's free hand over to his own bulging jeans. "Yours isn't the only flesh around here, remember?"

"You're so right, Jim." He rubbed Jim's cock through his jeans, hard, and grinned down at it. "First we'll get you clean, and then I've got a few ideas..."

Jim groaned, but he followed Blair quickly down the stairs.

***

Blair got out of the truck and frowned across the busy parking lot at the moderately-priced shrine to all things fatty and cholesterol-laden. Of course Edwards would choose some place like this, he decided, where even the heart-attack buffet masquerading as a salad bar was loaded with buttermilk dressing and macaroni salad. Blair liked steaks - loved 'em, in fact - but right now he wanted a kick-ass seafood... no, vegetarian plate so full of grains and legumes it would clear your bowels at thirty paces...

"You coming, Sandburg, or are you gonna admire the décor from out here?" Jim stood a few steps away, his shoulders stiff and hands shoved in his pockets. He sounded cranky and looked terrified.

"Coming, bwana," he muttered. Jim shot him a look but silently turned and started toward the building. Blair sighed and hurried to catch up.

They were a few minutes early, but Harry was already there, sitting at a table in the corner, nursing a beer. He greeted Blair with a cool nod, but smiled broadly at Jim and motioned them to sit down. Returning the nod, Blair pointedly placed himself between Harry and Jim and watched Harry's smile fade briefly. It was a cheap shot, he knew, but it felt good for a minute, until he looked over at Jim's unhappy face.

Well, shit.

Blair knew that, when he wanted to, he could be charming. Hell, if he really put his mind to it, he could probably charm a nun into buying something satin and lace from the Victoria's Secret catalog. The very least he could do was be polite to Harry - for Jim's sake.

He picked up the menu and opened it. "Thanks for the invitation, Harry," he said. "What do you recommend?"

Jim's grateful look promised sweat, lube, and tired muscles later, and Blair would make damn sure he collected. "How about a beer, Jim? What are you drinking, Harry?"

Two beers, a reasonable salad and a surprisingly good steak later, they were all laughing as the waiter cleared the table.

"So you're the person who told Jim to bounce a tennis ball when he got stressed out?" Blair wiped his eyes and leaned back in his chair. "Man, I wouldn't tell Simon that - from what he said, it took him two years and a major bribe to get Jim to stop." He grinned at Harry, surprised at how much he liked the guy. Sure he was more than a bit flaky, and Blair still hated his guts for what he did to Jim, but he was funny and perceptive and had some really good stories about Jim.

Harry took another drink of his beer and shrugged. "It wasn't an ideal solution, but it did serve its purpose."

"What was Jim like then?" Blair asked, surprising himself with his earnestness.

"Well, without revealing any confidences," Harry said carefully, "he was one screwed-up dude."

Ignoring Jim's "Hey!" of protest, Blair nodded. "You've got that right. I mean, even now there're times when I wonder that he can function at all, much less as well as he does."

"You can imagine, then, what it was like at the beginning." Harry shook his head. "The nightmares, the attitude, the sexual dysfunction-"

"Hey, Sigmund! Carl!" Jim rapped his glass on the table and Blair and Harry jumped and turned to him. "Enough with the analysis, you two. I'm not your lab rat."

"Sorry, man," Blair said, not feeling particularly guilty, and quirking a half-smile at Jim as Harry echoed his words. "I just got kinda carried away, y'know."

Jim nodded and motioned to the waiter for the check. "Well, carry yourself back here, Sandburg, and let's drop the subject."

They paid the bill in silence, then picked up their coats and walked out together.

"Thanks for the invitation, Harry," Blair said as they crossed the parking lot to the truck, "but what did you want to explain about Jim?"

"Just a second," Harry replied, and walked quickly to his car, returning with a black gym bag. He held it out to Blair, as Jim's eyes slitted and his face grew still. "Go on, open it."

"Not a chance, Edwards," Jim hissed, snatching the bag and then tossing it back to Harry as if it burned his hands. "Get rid of the damn thing, like I told you. Dump it, burn it, bury it... I don't want to see it again!" His voice never rose over a hoarse whisper, but Blair could hear the pain, and strangely, the humiliation.

Harry shrugged, seemingly unconcerned by Jim's words. "I could have gotten rid of it, of course. But it's important to you; it's part of who you are." He swung the bag idly, then let it drop at Blair's feet. "Tell him about it, Jim. Honesty is, after all, the best policy."

He started to walk away, then turned back and looked at Blair. "Don't leave it lying there. You don't want some kids finding it." Then he left.

Blair reached down and paused, glancing at Jim. "Well?"

With a sigh Jim gestured to the back of the truck. "Sling it in there. I'll toss it in a dumpster in the morning."

"But-"

"Don't, Sandburg. Just don't." Jim climbed into the truck and waited. Cutting off his retort, Blair picked up the bag and climbed in the passenger side, still holding it.

"I said, in the back, Sandburg," Jim growled.

"Can't. The bed's too wet."

"Wet? What's that got to do with it?"

"Well, it'll get ruined... Whatever it is."

"So? I'm going to dump it in the morning." He glared at it balefully. "Hell, I'll dump it now!" He started the engine.

"What if some kids are rooting through the dumpster and find it?"

"Oh, for..." Jim smacked the steering wheel and then slumped back. "Forget it. Let's go home."

"Now that sounds like a good idea." Blair tucked the bag close. He couldn't wait to see what was inside.

And to hear Jim's explanation.

When they got home, Blair carried the bag upstairs, Jim pointedly ignoring it. But once he closed the door, Jim lifted the strap off Blair's shoulder with a grimace and, holding the bag at arm's length, slung it into the storage closet, closing the door firmly.

Blair watched, torn between curiosity and sympathy. Yeah, he'd like to know what was inside the bag, but whatever it was, it really bothered Jim... And he didn't like that.

"Want some coffee?" he said, wandering into the kitchen as Jim returned.

"No." Jim hung up his coat and stretched, then rubbed the back of his neck with a grimace.

"Need a backrub?"

"'S okay. You're tired."

Blair grinned at the feeble response, translating it correctly from the original JimSpeak as 'Yes, thank you, I'd love a backrub.'

"C'mon, man, let's go pound those muscles into submission." He held out his hand, waiting.

"You go on up. I've got to take a leak." Jim disappeared into the bathroom, and Blair smiled fondly at the closed door. Knowing Jim, he'd not only pee, but shower, wash his face and brush his teeth before climbing the stairs. Which was fine with him.

After all, so many dirty things could be done with a clean Jim.

Blair was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed, still dressed save for his trousers and shoes when Jim came up the stairs fifteen minutes later. Jim paused at the top of the stairs, damp and clean with only a towel around his hips, and Blair's breath caught in his throat at the sight. How could one man be so strong, he wondered, all smooth muscles and sonorous honor, yet remain so achingly vulnerable?

"Feel better?" He scooted to one side and patted the bed as Jim nodded. "Stretch out and take a load off."

Jim hung the towel neatly over the railing and walked unselfconsciously over to the bed.

"You just can't keep your hands off me," he murmured as he dragged his fingers slowly across Blair's lips, chuckling as Blair struggled to connect his synapses enough to answer. He bestowed a kiss on the top of Blair's head, then rolled onto his stomach, his arms folded under his head.

With a quick shake of his head, Blair resurfaced from his unexpected plunge into mindless lust and smacked Jim on the butt.

"And you'd be whining in ten minutes if I did keep my hands off you," he retorted, following the smack with a quick kiss.

"I don't whine," came the muffled reply. Blair only snorted as he straddled Jim's waist, grabbed the bottle of massage oil and poured some into his palm.

"You know," he said as he rubbed his hands together and ran them up Jim's spine, "in many cultures, massages are considered an important part of the therapeutic process..."

Jim's head raised. "You saying I need therapy?"

Pressing Jim's head back down, Blair started working on the tight tendons in his neck. "No, that's not what I said. I meant that massages are often considered an important part of the healing arts. Not just the manipulation of the body, but the connection that is established between the healer and patient. Although patient isn't really the right word is many cases..." He paused, until Jim shifted beneath him.

"Want me to get your thesaurus?" he mumbled.

That earned Jim a smack on the shoulder. "No. Now shut up so I can work here."

Jim's grunt of assent was his only answer. Over the next hour, grunts turned into groans, which glissandoed into moans and finally finished as soft panting breaths.

Sitting back on his heels, Blair surveyed the gleaming, lax mountain of flesh before him. Jim lolled on his back, oiled from his head to his toes, muscles as pliant as the heroine in a bad romance, with the single exception of his cock, which waved above his relaxed body like a standard. He looked, in a word, edible.

Ever mindful of Hamlet's fault of thinking, rather than doing, and thereby losing the main chance, Blair leaned forward, opened his mouth, and swallowed Jim's cock. Knowledge of his lover allowed him to foresee and prepare for Jim's reaction to this move, so Blair's arms were already wrapped tightly across Jim's stomach and thighs when Jim yelled and jumped.

And he'd never even been a Boy Scout.

He didn't linger long over Jim's cock, although, God knows, he could have. It had all the attributes ascribed to a fine wine: full-bodied, smooth, easy to swallow, with plenty of nose. But it was just one treat on the dessert cart, and Blair was suddenly starving.

He worked his way up Jim's chest and settled in for some prolonged nipple-nibbling. Jim groaned and lifted his hands, as if to ward off a dream, but Blair caught his wrists and pinned them to the mattress while he slid over Jim's thighs. Blair was under no illusions about holding Jim down if he wanted to get away, but Jim wasn't trying to get away - if anything, his cock grew harder against Blair's stomach, and his moans increased. Blair smiled wickedly; this could be very interesting...

Finally, when Jim's nipples were red and swollen, Blair lifted himself up over Jim's stiff cock and kissed his lips softly. He raised Jim's hands above his head and held them there, crossed at the wrists.

"Turn over, Jim, but don't put your hands down." His voice was as soft as his kiss, but he merely loosened his grip - he didn't let go of Jim's hands as he moved aside.

Eyes flashed startlingly intense blue before they were shuttered. Jim's chest heaved once as he gulped a quick breath, and then slowly turned over, his hands remaining above his head.

Blair released his hands, giving them a quick pat, and then ghosted his fingers down the length of Jim's back and thighs, admiring the long stretch of tendon, bone and muscle spread before him. He grabbed a couple of pillows and carefully tucked them beneath Jim's stomach, arranging his cock so that it hung free and didn't get mashed. Jim twitched and breathed heavily as he worked, a thin sheen of sweat breaking out along the small of his back and over his ass, but he moved as Blair directed without objecting.

Moving gingerly because his cock was bobbing like a conductor's baton and ready to burst inside his boxers, Blair climbed between Jim's legs. Smoothing his hands up and down the insides of Jim's thighs, he coaxed those long legs apart, until Jim was stretched wide, squirming slightly on the pillows.

He leaned forward on his elbows and kissed Jim's balls, hanging heavily between his legs. They were warm and damp, still slightly scented with massage oil. His kisses turned to licks, and he moved down to include Jim's cock in the tongue bath. Jim was enjoying the proceedings, if the noises he was making were anything to go by. Not to mention the rhythmic flexing of his cheeks and the quivering that suddenly began along his thighs.

Working his way up again, Blair felt Jim's balls draw up, and quickly encircled them with his thumb and forefinger. Jim grunted.

"Not yet," he whispered, his warm breath creating goosebumps on Jim's ass. "Not yet by a long shot."

He waited a few minutes, until Jim's harsh breaths calmed down and he could feel his balls relax a little. Then he released them and bent again to his task. He nuzzled the smooth skin between his legs, poked his tongue into moist creases and tickled the fine hairs, making Jim's flesh twitch and jump. There wasn't a part of Jim that didn't taste and smell enticing, and Blair had pretty much covered every square centimeter of the man, so he felt he could speak with authority.

Kneeling, he continued to kiss and lick his way up Jim's ass, covering the smooth-skinned surface thoroughly. Jim was beginning to shift restlessly, so Blair got a firm grip on his thighs and held on tight. Eventually, all his wanderings brought him to Jim's hole, already clenching in anticipation. He gave it a quick kiss and nibble, but didn't linger - Jim was already too far gone to play around much longer. If Blair wanted to take Jim before Jim came, the way they had discovered they both liked it, he'd have to move quickly.

He jerked down his shorts, freeing his long-suffering cock, and groped around the sheets until he found the tube he'd left there earlier. Popping the top, he quickly anointed himself, teeth gritted in concentration. He would not lose it yet...

Then he turned his attention to Jim, who was muttering his frustrations into the sheets. They seemed to consist largely of threats against Blair of a sexual nature, and hearing one or two, Blair decided that they were really game plans, and hoped they could try them out soon. He let a large dollop of lube land directly on Jim's hole, knowing the chill would help move him back from the edge. Jim let out a muffled yelp, and Blair carefully swirled it around and inside him, using only the tip of his finger. Jim was tight, and that was good. Very, very good.

Taking a deep breath, he positioned himself over Jim, and, using one hand as a guide and the other as a prop, drove himself into Jim's tight body fast and deep. Jim screamed, but Blair knew it was in pleasure, not pain. His hands clutched at the sheets and his hips vibrated with tension. Falling forward onto both hands, Blair began to pull out, then, before he was even half-way out, thrust back in again. Jim shifted beneath him, his shoulders beaded with sweat, and Blair leaned forward and licked a path up Jim's salty spine, his hips continuing to move shallowly.

"Love you, Jim..." he panted. "Love making love to you."

Jim's legs spread further and he pushed back against Blair, grunting with the effort. Blair jammed his hips forward flat against Jim's ass and then twisted them in a circle, rubbing his cock against the tight ring of muscle. Pleasure sparked behind his eyes, made his ears buzz, and pulsed down his cock. Jim's grunts turned into a low wail as shivers wracked his body, traveling up his back and arms, and down his thighs and calves.

Close, so close...

"I'm gonna come." It was hard to catch his breath, hard to speak. "Come with me, Jim..."

And then he pounded into Jim, spurting deep inside him, his arms shaking, sweat dripping down his neck, tickling through the hair on his chest. Jim writhed on the sheets and panted, then suddenly groaned richly and Blair knew they were coming together.

It was beautiful, man...

***

Blair awoke the next morning, still in his socks and shirt, his boxers rucked uncomfortably down around his knees, and groaned, burying his face between Jim's shoulderblades. He was wiped. Completely, totally wiped. It was pathetic, really. He'd just collapsed on top of Jim after he'd shot his wad and had been too shattered to do anything to help with the cleanup. Jim even had to wipe his cock off for him, as he merged with the mattress.

Still, it had been fun, and he felt his cock, already half-hard, stir. Oh yeah, they'd have time for a leisurely hand-job before facing the day.

Suddenly the back in front of him shifted and became a chest. Before he could even bid each nipple a hearty good morning, he was being kissed on the forehead, patted like a pet, and Jim climbed out of bed.

"Wha..." He rubbed his eyes and blinked up at his lover.

"The hardware store," Jim explained.

"Shit." It had to be the hardware store. The hardware store. Blair sighed. There was no recourse. Jim hated to go to the hardware store when it was crawling with packs of mutant yuppie homeowners named Brad and Chris, who would wander the aisles in a powertool-induced fog, muttering 'But Norm said...' Jim had to get there first thing, along with the contractors and a couple of old guys who couldn't drink anymore, so they hung out with the plumbing fixtures. So much for wake-up sex...

"Love you, too, Chief." He was chuckling... The asshole was actually chuckling.

Blair rolled on his back and stretched. "That's okay," he said, and wiggled until he was comfortable. "I'll just take care of a few things while you're gone..." He gazed calmly at Jim as he wrapped his hand around his hardening cock and pumped it once. Jim stood still, staring at him, his eyes darkening and his cock showing definite interest in the proceedings. "Go on," Blair continued, his voice catching as he slid his hand up and down his cock again. "You don't want to get stuck in the crowds..."

Jim abruptly turned and made his way down the stairs, and Blair smiled to himself as the bathroom door slammed. Baiting Jim wasn't as good as having sex with Jim, but it would do in a pinch. He continued to stroke himself while imagining exactly what Jim was doing to himself in the shower, and came quickly with a choked shout.

Half-an-hour later, he was standing in front of the utility closet, shifting from foot to foot. Jim would be gone at least an hour - more, if one of the old guys got ahold of him and they started to talk drill bits - so the coast was clear. Whatever was in the bag really bothered Jim, and, what was worse, embarrassed him.

It was important that he know as much as possible about Jim, he thought. It was no good trying to solve a puzzle when a bunch of pieces were missing. And if some missing pieces were right behind Door Number One, waiting to be discovered... Well, it was his personal and professional obligation to check them out.

And he'd never embarrass Jim, so that wasn't a consideration, and besides, he told himself, Jim got embarrassed about the weirdest things. Who could tell if this was really humiliating stuff, or just something totally innocuous that Jim had blown completely out of proportion? He'd have to find out what it was in order to make that assessment.

Besides, he was curious, and it was never a good idea to stifle curiosity. It gave you hives, or constipation, or made you vote Republican, or something pretty awful.

With that, Blair jerked open the door and grabbed the bag, carrying it onto the kitchen island where the light was better. He unzipped it and peered inside.

Uhhhh...

Oh.

Oh, my.

He rooted around in the bag, eyes wide, his mind running into a brick wall every time he tried to contemplate Jim... His Jim... Wait a minute, we're talking about Jim, here...

But it was familiar... He was sure he'd seen...

Suddenly, it made sense. In fact, it made perfect sense. Pieces of the puzzle that was Jim suddenly fit together into one lovely, clear, wonderful, glue-me-together-and-mount-me picture.

Blair held up a pair of leather wrist restraints in one hand, and an elaborate cock ring and harness in the other and grinned until he thought his face would split in two.

"Thank you, Harry," he said to the empty room. "You're a real pal."

***

Blair didn't say anything about what he found to Jim during the week, although he certainly thought about it a great deal, and Jim, for his part, left the bag where it was. A temptation, like Pandora's box.

It was almost as if he wanted Blair to look inside.

The problem was, how to bring up the subject. Wracking his brains for an answer that wouldn't piss off Jim or make him cringe in embarrassment, Blair finally decided to scuttle talk completely and follow Jim's motto, as succinctly stated in the commercial: just do it.

It was Friday, and Jim was due home in fifteen minutes. Blair had just showered, and he dashed naked out of the bathroom, grabbed the bag from the closet, and was upstairs before he could think twice about it.

Sitting cross-legged on the bed, he dug into the bag and pulled out the wrist and ankle restraints. He couldn't tie himself up, but he could certainly give the appearance of being tied up. He hummed softly to himself as he fastened the restraints - with his arms and legs stretched out and the leather ties draped over the sides of the bed, it would look pretty good. He pawed through the assortment of various-sized dildoes and plugs, wincing at the sight of the largest, and briefly considered the nipple clamps. He wasn't sure he'd like them, though. Since he was hoping to get well and truly fucked this evening, he didn't want anything to spoil his pleasure. They could try them out another time. He also rejected the gag. He had the feeling that some 'gentle persuasion' was going to be required for Jim to accept this, and besides, his mouth could come in handy if Jim was in the mood to be sucked.

There was a simple studded leather cock ring, which, snugged up against his balls, would look pretty hot and keep the flag flying, as it were, regardless of Jim's response. He checked the time and decided to put it on. It felt... weird. Kinda tight, but in a good way. It made his balls throb. Oh, yeah...

He flopped back against the pillows and hoped his hair was spread out artistically. It was probably doing something weird, but that was okay. At least he had hair, unlike a certain buff cop who could be bald for all Blair cared - the man was...

The door opened and he jumped, startled, then grinned. He flicked the ends of the leather over the sides of the bed as Jim called out "Blair?"

"Up here, Jim," he whispered, half-heartedly trying for seductive and desperately trying not to laugh. Either he looked incredibly hot or he looked like a world-class dork - there was no middle way in a situation like this.

"You decide to take a nap, Chief?" Jim's voice floated up to him, and he could hear his footsteps on the stairs. "Are you feeling-"

The words cut off abruptly as Jim's head came into view.

"Hey, lover," Blair began, wriggling his hips a little to make his rock-hard cock sway. "I'm glad you're home..." He raised his eyebrows and ventured a half-smile.

Jim stood on the stairs and looked poleaxed, his jaw slack, his eyes wide.

Blair tried another wiggle and flexed his arms and legs as if he was tied up. "I've been waiting for you, Jim." He paused expectantly.

Jim blinked and shook his head, then his eyes narrowed. "You stupid-- You idiotic-- Tying yourself up like that..." He ran to the bed, cursing, reaching for the leather ties. He lifted one and stared at it stupidly, dangling from his fingers.

"Hey, I didn't really tie myself up," Blair said, sitting up and reaching for Jim's hand. "I just thought-"

He yelped when Jim grabbed his ankle and pulled his leg straight, his fingers fumbling with the fastening. Jim tore off the restraint and lunged over the bed, grabbing his other leg. Stunned, Blair lay there, watching Jim's frantic movements as he jerked off the other restraint and then turned to Blair's wrists. Jim had stopped cursing, but his harsh gasps were worse.

"Jim, calm down, buddy. It's okay..." he said quietly, not fighting Jim as he removed the restraints. "I'm fine, you're fine, it was just something I thought we could try..."

Panting, his face scarlet, Jim glared down at him. Blair reached for him again, but Jim stepped back a pace, his eyes raking Blair's body. He peered at Blair's cock, still cinched by the harness, and held out a shaky hand as the color drained from his face and he closed his eyes.

"Damn you, Sandburg," he whispered. And then he was gone, the sound of the door slamming behind him the only evidence of his passage.

Blair sat up, wincing as the harness pinched his balls, and fumbled it off. His erection was gone. His lover was gone. He was confused and pissed off and really, really worried.

Houston, we have a problem.

***

He dressed and slowly went downstairs. He wasn't hungry, but if he started dinner, then at least he'd have an excuse to call Jim. So he rooted through the refrigerator, pulling out things at random. Staring at the motley collection of food strewn across the counter, Blair snorted. Not even Julia Child could do anything with that selection. He stuck it all back in the fridge, filled the big pot with water and hauled it to the cooktop, twisting the knob for the burner almost savagely. Pasta. Comfort food. Besides, it had a very definite window of optimum edibility, and that might give him some leverage with Jim.

It wasn't until he dialed Jim's cell phone number that he wondered if Jim would even pick up. It rang four times, and he was beginning to worry, when the receiver clicked.

"Ellison."

"I'm making pasta," he said matter-of-factly. "It'll be ready in about half-an-hour. You gonna make it?"

There was a pause, and Blair could hear a ship's horn hooting mournfully over the line. He nodded. Jim was down at the waterfront, of course, probably staring out over the bay, watching something that no one else could see.

"Could you pick up a loaf of bread from Marcione's?" he asked, deciding not to give Jim the chance to say that no, he wasn't coming home tonight.

He heard Jim sigh. "If there's anything left," Jim finally said. "They're usually cleared out this late on a Friday."

"Yeah, well, check, would you? Since it's on your way home and all." He fought to keep his voice from quavering, and for some stupid reason, his knees were suddenly weak. He put a hand on the counter to steady himself.

"Sure," came the soft reply. "Can I pick up anything else?"

"Nah. Just..." He swallowed hard. "Just come home, okay?"

"Chief?"

"Yeah?"

"I'll be there in twenty."

"Good."

He hung up the phone and wiped his face, blinking rapidly. Pulling some leftover sauce from the freezer, Blair stuck it in the microwave and sniffled, then reached for a tissue. He hoped he wasn't getting a cold.

***

Jim was back in the promised twenty minutes, just as Blair dropped the pasta into the water and set the timer. And he had a loaf of bread with him.

"Good job, man. What'd you have to do to get it?"

"An old Covert Ops trick." Jim put the bread down on the board and shrugged off his coat. "I paid for it."

"Ha ha." Blair gave the pot a stir and then turned. If he didn't do this now, he'd chicken out, and nothing would be resolved. "Listen, Jim, I'm really sorry about-"

"Forget about it." Jim's voice was firm, but kind. He washed his hands, and then started slicing the bread.

"No, really, I thought it would be okay if I was the one-"

"Chief..." Jim put the slices of bread on a plate and carried it to the table. "I'm hungry. I'm tired. I've had a long day. I'd like to eat my dinner and relax. So let's just forget about it, okay?"

"But, Jim-"

"Sandburg, I said give it a rest." Jim stuck his head in the refrigerator and pulled out two beers.

Blair paused, then decided to pull out the big guns. Obviously the small arms weren't working.

"Why won't you accept my apology?"

Jim froze as he was setting the bottles on the table, then slowly released them and straightened up, facing away from Blair. He took a deep breath and bowed his head.

"Will you drop the subject?"

Blair shook his head, even though Jim couldn't see him. "No. I agree with Harry: it's important, and I need to know about it."

The timer buzzed, and Jim flinched, then walked over to the windows. Blair took a step to follow him, then shook his head again and grabbed the pot, pouring it into the colander in the sink.

"Dinner's ready."

He dished up two plates, and brought them over to the table, glancing at Jim, still standing by the windows.

"Jim?"

"Can we talk about this after dinner, Blair?"

"Sure. Whenever you want."

"How about twenty years from now?"

Blair grinned. If Jim was kvetching, it meant he was going to be okay with this. It might be hard for him to speak of it, but at least he was willing to try.

"Your dinner's getting cold," was all he said in reply.

"Yeah."

Jim walked over and sat down, giving him a tight, but genuine, smile. He ate slowly at first, but Blair started talking about his day, turning an intensely frustrating morning of questioning a group of reluctant victims of a robbery into a story that had Jim cackling and wiping his eyes and shoveling in his food as if he were starving.

"So I pointed out that he could have been shot because he didn't cooperate, and he says, 'Son, I held a royal flush. There was no way in hell that I was going to drop it. I didn't care if the Devil himself came up here and told me to put it down... For the first time in my life, I was going to beat that bastard Bill Preston out of fifty dollars, and no scrawny, punk-assed kid was going to stop me.'"

"And what'd you say to that?"

"What else could I say?" Blair smiled and shrugged. "I told him congratulations on his hand, and the next time he's held up at gunpoint, he'd better think twice about telling the robber to go fuck himself."

Jim snickered and sighed, staring down at his empty plate. Blair knew it was time.

With as little fuss as possible, he gathered up the plates and put them into the sink to soak, then grabbed two more beers.

"Let's get comfortable, Jim," and he motioned to the couch.

"There's not that much to tell," replied Jim, but he stood up and moved toward Blair.

"That's okay. We don't have to talk the whole time." He leered at Jim, then sat down and leaned back, crooking his arm invitingly.

Jim raised an eyebrow, but sat obediently. "Chief, are you horny all the time?" he asked, his voice evincing nothing but mild curiosity.

Pausing a moment for effect, Blair quirked a grin and nodded. "Pretty much so, for you, at least." He wrapped his arm around Jim and pulled him back a little, so that Jim was leaning against him, and brushed a kiss against his neck. "Does this have anything to do with what you're going to tell me?"

Jim quivered once, then shook his head. "No. Just curious."

"Just like I'm curious about you and your past, Jim."

"You're a detective, Chief." He pulled away and leaned forward, his arms on his knees. "You've got the evidence. Put it all together."

Blair rested a hand on the center of Jim's broad back. He could feel the tension coiled in his lover's body, feel the harsh, irregular breaths that signaled just how hard this was for Jim.

"Okay..." he said slowly. "Stop me if I go wrong." Jim nodded, but remained silent.

"I think this all started after you got back from Peru," he began, his voice very soft. "You were ordered to see Harry to help you deal with the guilt and the stress, so you went. He helped, but the guilt still festered inside you, the need to be punished for what had happened to your men..."

He moved his hand in little circles on Jim's back - it was like stroking concrete.

"Somehow, you discovered that you could be punished by using the things in the bag, and this helped keep you from being swallowed by the guilt. You weren't looking for pain," he ventured, remembering the items he'd seen in the bag, "because you know pain, and it doesn't frighten you..." His voice trailed off as he remembered how Jim had reacted when he'd pinioned his hands, and he looked at Jim for a clue, any clue, about whether he was still on track. Jim nodded once, stiff-necked. "It was about control, wasn't it? You could give up control to someone else, and just feel. You weren't responsible for anything..."

"Yes..." It was a hiss of pain and humiliation.

"Did Harry help you then?"

Jim shook his head, and Blair heard a dry whisper. "No, someone else. But he's dead..."

"I'm sorry..." Blair leaned his forehead onto Jim's back and continued stroking it. "Did you have to stop because he died?"

"No."

"You stopped before he died?"

"Yes." His voice was hardly audible.

"Why did you stop?"

"Because..." Jim shifted, and Blair put his free hand on Jim's shoulder. The muscles bunched beneath his fingers. "Because of you..."

"Me?"

"Got it in one, Chief." He sounded ancient, as brittle as old newspaper. "You... stirred things up... got me out of my rut."

"But why did you go back to it with Harry?"

"I told you. I... wanted you, needed you, and I thought I couldn't have you... I was messed up." He chuckled, completely without humor. "I thought I could fool myself into believing you were with me if I couldn't see, or taste, or feel you... I could pretend it was you... controlling me..."

"And then I found you..." Blair closed his eyes, startled by the surge of lust that coursed through him at the memory of Jim bound and helpless.

"You found me, Chief..." Jim started to stand, and Blair grabbed the waistband of his trousers.

"Don't." He tugged slightly, and Jim sat back down, his neck suddenly flushed, his breathing deep. "Don't run away, not now... not now that I've found you..."

"I'm not running away..." His voice cracked, fueling Blair's desire. Oh god, oh god, he had to speak...

"Do you know how hot you looked?" Blair whispered. "How much I loved you relying on me to make you come? How much I wanted to own you?"

Jim's head tilted back, his hands clenched on his knees, knuckles white.

Pressing himself close behind Jim, Blair reached around his lover and ran his fingers lightly over Jim's erection. Jesus, Jim's trousers were damp from his weeping cock...

"Jim," he said, barely breathing in his ear, "do you trust me?"

Jim nodded, his hips jerking as Blair gently stroked over the bulge at his groin.

"Do you want this?"

Another nod, and a sharp intake of breath.

"I promise there'll be no pain, Jim. But I'll blow your mind if you let me. If you do what I tell you..." His other hand snaked around to caress Jim's chest. "Do you want this?" he asked again.

"Yes," Jim choked out. "Yes..."

Blair wanted to shout his joy, to boogie around the couch and bow to the cheering multitudes, to pound his chest and let his patented Tarzan call (tm) echo in the rafters. Instead, he gave Jim a gentle squeeze, kissed him softly behind his ear, and then released him.

"Jim," he began, then stopped and cleared his throat. He couldn't give orders if his voice was quavering. "Jim, go take a shower, and do whatever else you need to in the bathroom. When you're finished, come upstairs." Jim's shoulders shook, then he squared them and rose, starting for the bathroom without a backward glance. "Oh, and Jim?" He turned. Blair's glance slowly raked over Jim's body. "Don't wear a towel."

With a quick nod, Jim disappeared into the bathroom.

Blair went upstairs, suddenly overwhelmed with the possibilities of what he could do with Jim... Of how he could make Jim feel... Of the immense responsibility he'd just accepted... In the name of all the gods in the universe, what had he done? He wiped his damp palms on his trousers and squeezed his eyes shut.

Taking a deep breath to calm down, he picked up the bag and dumped the contents on the bed, thinking through possible scenarios. He'd have to be careful - very, very careful - not to ask too much of Jim this first time. At least he'd done some research after he'd found Jim; at least he knew how to keep Jim safe. But, he thought, taking a shaky breath, it was going to be hard not to take this opportunity and run with it until they both dropped from exhaustion.

Well, he'd just have to make sure that didn't happen.

By the time he heard Jim's slow tread on the stairs, he'd choreographed the evening's activities in his mind and had all the necessary accessories within easy reach. The rest had been regretfully packed away for use another time. Blair had taken off his boots, but remained dressed.

Jim had stopped at the top of the stairs, standing at ease, waiting. His hair was damp, a few drops of water were sprinkled across his shoulders, and his cock was still hard, jutting from his body. It was all Blair could do to remain seated on the bed - he wanted to run to him and rub his hands and mouth all over Jim's warm, smooth flesh...

"Come here," he said gruffly, reminding himself that this was what Jim needed, and pointing to a spot right in front of him.

Jim silently walked over.

"Hold out your hands."

His face impassive, Jim held his arms out in front of him. Blair picked up a wrist restraint and held it up to Jim's face.

"Do you smell yourself on this?"

Jim nodded, inhaling deeply. Blair pulled it away, fastened it and did the same with the other one.

"Step back one step and then put your foot here," Blair directed, patting his lap. "You can hold on to the back of the chair if you need to." He had placed the straight-backed chair beside the bed just in case it was needed.

Jim did as he was ordered, one hand resting lightly on the chair back, the leather ties of the restraint brushing against the floor. He placed his foot on Blair's lap, his toes brushing Blair's erection. Swallowing his gasp at the fleeting contact, Blair quickly fastened the ankle restraint and nodded, and Jim changed feet. Once all the restraints were on and Jim was standing before him again, Blair leaned forward and brushed a gentle kiss on the head of Jim's cock.

He shuddered violently, and Blair pulled back. "Not yet," he commanded. "Don't you dare come now."

Eyes squeezed shut, hands clenched at his sides, Jim nodded. Blair waited until he relaxed slightly and opened his eyes.

"Good." He leaned back on the bed, spreading his legs a little, hungrily watching Jim's eyes flicker over his bulging groin. "Stay where you are and smell me, Jim. Take my scent." Jim's chest expanded as he inhaled and his eyes grew heavy-lidded. "You know I'd never leave you alone when you're tied up, Jim," Blair continued softly, as Jim took another breath. "Don't you?" he prompted, and Jim nodded, his jaw relaxing, the tension bleeding from his shoulders and arms. "You'll always be able to see me, or feel me, or smell me..." Jim nodded again and blinked slowly.

Blair stood up and gestured to the bed. "Onto the bed on your back, hands over your head."

Jim moved into position, his cock swaying and bobbing as he settled on his back and raised his arms. Blair grabbed the ties and knotted them together at Jim's wrists, then tied the loose ends onto the railing. Jim's hands were tied together, but there was quite a bit of slack otherwise.

Stepping back to admire Jim in this position, and to try to regain some measure of control over his own libido, Blair nodded.

"Bend your legs, feet flat on the mattress, and spread them wide."

Jim hesitated a moment, then complied.

Picking up a couple of items from the nightstand, Blair crawled onto the bed beside Jim.

"You're doing well, Jim. Very well." He leaned over Jim's head, smiling into the tense face of his lover. "I think that incentives are important in all learning situations, so..." He bent down and captured Jim's mouth, forcing his tongue inside, firmly directing the kiss. Jim fought him for a moment, then groaned and relaxed into it, allowing Blair to suck and nibble and own his mouth.

When Blair pulled away they were both panting, and Jim was straining against the bonds holding his hands.

"Shhh," Blair soothed, running his hands over Jim's face, down the long tendon in his neck, and across the hard expanse of his chest. "Can you smell me?"

"Yes..."

"Can you tell how much seeing you like this turns me on?" His fingers slowly circled Jim's nipples, moving closer and closer until he grabbed and pinched them hard, releasing them just as quickly. Jim's startled hiss turned into a moan when Blair kissed each one, nipping them firmly before pressing them flat with his tongue.

Another nip, another kiss, then he dragged the cool metal chain of the clamps across Jim's chest.

"Can you?"

Jim nodded, then arched his back and squeezed his eyes shut when Blair pinched each nipple again and fastened the clamps.

"Is that too tight?" he whispered, pulling each clamp slightly to test them.

Jim shook his head, keeping his eyes closed. His stomach fluttered under Blair's roving hands, his skin sticky from his weeping cock.

"You're close, aren't you, Jim..." Blair asked, but it wasn't really a question. "Let me help..."

He picked up the harness and gently fitted it around Jim's swollen balls and glistening cock, careful not to pull it too tight, to pinch or trap the tender flesh, or to catch his curling hair in the straps. He could feel Jim's heartbeat pounding through the drumhead-tight skin, and wondered if his own was beating as fast. Jim was shifting restlessly, so Blair looked back up his taut body, catching his eyes as Jim craned his neck to see what was going on.

"I'm still here. You okay?"

Jim let his head fall back against the mattress. "Yeah..." He tilted his hips, making his cock bob. "Just... feeling it..."

"Good." Blair smiled, feeling a bit smug, and crawled up for another kiss. This time Jim didn't fight him, but surrendered immediately, letting Blair set the pace, letting Blair do exactly what he wanted. Finally, Blair broke away - he was skating perilously close to the edge himself.

"Oh, man, Jim. I could get used to this..."

His fingers fumbled as he untied the leather from the railing. He guided Jim's hands down, rubbing his shoulders and arms firmly to restore the circulation. Then he untied his wrists.

"Sit up, Jim, and then face the foot of the bed and get on your hands and knees."

As Jim moved, Blair piled the pillows against the railing as a back support. Once Jim was in position, he grabbed a few more items from the nightstand, placing them next to the pillows.

"Lower yourself so your face and shoulders are on the bed, and stretch your hands down beside your body."

Taking the ties from Jim's wrist and ankle restraints on one side, Blair knotted them together, allowing enough slack so that Jim could shift and straighten his back a little, but forcing his hands to stay down around his knees. He did the same thing on the other side, then crawled behind Jim and leaned back against the pillows, stretching his legs out under Jim's body. He ran his hands up the insides of Jim's thighs and over his ass, resting them on his hips.

"Back up a little."

He guided Jim as he awkwardly crawled back, until Jim's ass was at a convenient distance from his hands and mouth, Jim's feet on either side of Blair's hips, his bound arms bent over Blair's legs. Blair was really looking forward to this, and he knew Jim would enjoy it, too.

Caressing Jim's ass, he licked and nibbled the tender area at the join of cheek and thigh, then ghosted his fingers up the cleft. Jim shivered and his bound cock jerked and swayed, drooling onto Blair. With a grin, Blair rubbed his thumb over the head, and Jim suddenly shouted and pulled against his bonds, his cheeks clenching, his muscles rock-hard. He did not spill, though, and Blair quickly checked the harness to make sure it was still snug, but not too tight. He walked his fingers up Jim's ass, and spread Jim's cheeks wide.

"You are incredible," he murmured. "Amazing..."

He leaned forward and kissed Jim's cleft, flicking his tongue across the thin skin, savoring Jim's breathy moans. Suddenly he dove for Jim's hole, taking it with his lips and teeth and tongue as he had taken Jim's mouth. Jim's scream quickly transformed into plaintive cries of willing surrender as Blair engineered the stock buyout, packed the Board of Directors, and took complete and total ownership of Jim's ass.

Jim pushed his ass back as far as he could, hampered by the bonds and Blair's firm grip, wordlessly pleading for more. Blair pulled away, releasing Jim's cheeks, and Jim wailed softly.

"I'm still here, I'm still with you..." Blair said softly.

Before Jim had time to draw another breath, Blair was back, his slick finger jammed tight into Jim's ass. He thrust his finger in and out quickly, catching Jim off guard and making him groan.

Blair twisted his finger around and then pulled it out, replacing it with a long, thin dildo he had quickly lubed. He repeated the movements of his own finger, pulling and pushing it rapidly in and out of Jim's body. This would, he thought, sensitize Jim, but not loosen him up. Blair would do that himself.

He plunged it in as deep as it would go, and left it there. Jim squirmed, his body slowly pushing it out as Blair pulled his legs out from under Jim and knelt behind him. Blair pushed it back inside Jim again, then, with shaking hands, unfastened his trousers, pushing them and his shorts down his hips. He took a deep breath and squeezed a generous portion of lube over his hot, sweaty cock. It wasn't going to be long...

Kneeling up, Blair jerked the dildo out of Jim and pushed his cock inside, cutting off Jim's groan and turning it into harsh panting. He'd been right - Jim was more responsive than ever, but was still as tight as an old wino.

"Jim," he said as he started thrusting, "this one's for me... I promise... you'll get yours soon... But not," he muttered as he ground himself against Jim's ass, feeling the trapped heat building in his groin, "just..." Another thrust. "Yet..."

Everything suddenly exploded into heat and light and soft body parts raining down over him and he lay across Jim's sweaty back, desperately trying to drag air into his oxygen-starved lungs. He kissed his way down Jim's back, running his fingers across Jim's damp skin like he was finger painting. Regretfully he pulled out, shivering as his softened cock hit the cool air outside Jim. Jim's ass flexed, his hole stretched wide, and Blair gently circled it with his finger.

"Please..." Jim whispered, moving his ass, trying to get Blair's finger back inside. His cock dangled heavily between his legs, and was weeping a steady stream of moisture onto the bed. Blair picked up the large plug he had decided on earlier, smoothed more lube over it, although Jim's hole glistened wetly, and held the tip against Jim.

"Take it," he said, holding it steady.

Jim grunted, frustrated, but jerked his hips back, taking the first inch easily. Awkwardly squirming backward, he slowly pushed himself onto the first few inches of the plug. He grunted again, his hips moving shallowly, as Blair held it firmly, but did not help push it in.

"Can't..." Jim panted. "No leverage..."

Holding the plug with one hand, Blair undid the knots holding Jim's ankles and wrists together, congratulating himself on remembering to tie them with easy-release slip knots. Jim rested for a moment, then raised himself on shaky arms. Breathing stertorously, he pushed back again, and Blair watched, mouth dry and stomach quivering, as he swallowed more and more. Finally, with only the last half-inch of the bulge left, Jim dropped onto his elbows and rested his head on his forearms. His damp ass was stretched tightly around the hard plastic, and the sight was so incredible that Blair thought his own cock would burst.

"Come on, Jim," Blair coaxed. "You're almost there. Just a little bit more and it'll be in..."

Jim's chest heaved and he shook his head.

"Too much... Too big..."

"Take it, Jim, and then I promise you can come."

With a groan, Jim raised onto his hands and took a deep breath, blowing it out hard and shoving backward, the body of the plug disappearing inside him. Blair kissed his back, his fingers circling the muscle that quivered around the base of the plug.

"Good job," he whispered into Jim's back, and twisted the plug slightly, feeling Jim shudder under his lips. "Now, on your back on the pillows."

Moving slowly and stiffly, Jim rolled onto the pillows, his legs bent and spread to accommodate his imprisoned cock, his hips raised to make room for the head of the plug.

Moving almost as slowly as Jim, Blair leaned over and kissed him gently, his intent to arouse and tease, not to conquer. First he removed the clamps, pressing each nipple flat with his finger, and then awarding them a kiss each. Then he gathered the ties from Jim's wrists and tied them together loosely enough so that Jim could spread his hands slightly wider than his shoulders. He moved down the bed and did the same for Jim's ankles.

Crawling off the bed, Blair peeled off his trousers and boxers, then climbed back.

"Almost time," he said, running his hands over Jim's legs and up his thighs. "First, you've got to get me ready."

He straddled Jim's upper chest, facing his knees, then backed up. Jim's breath was hot on his ass, and he felt Jim's hands on his thighs. He reached back and parted his cheeks.

"Look at me," he said. "Who am I?"

"Blair... My... lover. My..."

"Who's in control here?"

"You are..."

"How do I look?"

"Hot..." A puff of air ghosted over his ass and he shivered.

"Do you want me?"

"Yes..."

"Use your mouth first, then your fingers," he instructed as he released his ass, bent over and wiggled his hips.

Jim caressed his ass, fingers moving lightly over the skin, making Blair quiver. Then he shifted a little, his hands pulling at Blair's cheeks, his tongue skittering over the moist flesh. Blair held his breath, waiting...

Finally, finally, Jim kissed him hard, licking and sucking and sending crackling currents of sensation along his poor, overloaded nerves. Warmth turned to heat turned to blistering passion, until Blair grabbed Jim's knees and almost screamed.

"Wait..." he ordered, in a voice so weak it barely qualified as a whisper. Jim pulled his mouth away, but kept his hands cupped on Blair's ass. Blair's hands shook as he unfastened the harness around Jim's cock and balls, freeing them as Jim groaned.

"Grease me up, quickly," he said, and held out his hand. Jim squeezed a large dollop onto his fingers, and he oh so carefully coated Jim's twitching cock. He hissed as Jim's fingers circled his hole, gently filling him with slickness, and his cock throbbed. "Enough."

Scrambling off Jim and turning to face him, he straddled his lover again and guided his cock to rest against him. Blair shifted his hips back a little, and felt the burning sting as Jim began to enter. He smiled down at his lover, all sweaty and dark-eyed with lust, then closed his eyes and relaxed, welcoming Jim inside him.

By the time he was sitting back on Jim's lap, impaled on his cock, Blair was thrumming like a guy-wire in a windstorm. Jim's hands were clasped around his arms, helping keep him upright, and his hips were pushing up, driving his cock ever deeper. Blair gasped and shuddered. Jim was so hot, so fucking hot inside him, a burning fuse coiled in his gut, that he was absolutely sure he was going to simply spontaneously combust.

"Please..." Jim panted, his fingers clutching Blair tightly, his head arching back, his hips slapping up against Blair's damp ass. Blair watched, fascinated, as a thin trickle of sweat snaked its way down his sharp jaw and his throat muscles shifted as he swallowed hard. "Please..."

It began at his feet and moved up his legs, like a tidal wave of lava washing over him, engulfing him. It hit his groin and he jerked upright, his cock dancing over Jim's belly, then moved up to his chest, constricting his lungs, squeezing his heart.

"Come, Jim. For me, for us..." It washed down his arms and up his neck and face, scalding him. He forced his eyes open again as Jim bucked and shook, that wonderful mouth opening in a perfect O of surprise before Jim wailed his completion.

And then he was coming too, spilling himself on his shirt and Jim's stomach, his own hips jerking with the effort, making the tugging on his hole from Jim's cock even sweeter. He slumped back against Jim's thighs and Jim moaned and shifted his legs and hips, his cock twitching inside Blair.

"Just a sec, man," he panted. "Lemme catch my breath and I'll get it out of you."

It was more than a minute before he could move, before his muscles agreed to cooperate and support him. Blair leaned forward and scooted up Jim's chest, shivering as Jim's cock pulled free and his ass burned and ached. He rolled off Jim's chest and yelped as he landed on his butt, twisting around to scoot between Jim's legs.

He unfastened the ankle restraints first, tossing them, still tied together, onto the floor.

"Lift up," he said, pushing Jim's legs up onto his chest. It only took a moment to gently pull out the plug. Jim hissed and clenched his ass, but Blair pressed his fingers against the lax hole and Jim stilled. They were quiet for a few minutes, still too raw and open to look at each other, listening, instead, to the songs their bodies sang.

Blair finally removed his fingers and undid the wrist restraints, kissing Jim's hands and wrists even though there were no marks.

Jim shuddered occasionally with the aftershocks of orgasm, and finally opened his arms, gathering Blair to his chest.

"How was that for the first time?" Blair mumbled into his chest, his arms wrapped around Jim, his body exhausted.

"Perfect, Chief."

"You mean it?" He raised his head and gazed, wide-eyed, at Jim.

He nodded. "Yeah. I mean it."

Blair snuggled back down and took a deep breath. "Man, do we stink."

Jim sniffed once and coughed. "Yeah." He began to breathe shallowly through his mouth.

"So," said Blair, not moving, "are we going to move?"

"Later," replied Jim, pulling him up for a kiss. "Much later..."

The end