Creamsicle by Owlet

 

It was hot. Hot, hot, hot. Too damn hot, and Blair was thoroughly sick of it.

The summer heat of Cascade was usually a contradiction in terms, but these thermometer had been reaching temperatures of well over a hundred all week, and now it was the weekend. That meant that Jim didn't have to go in to the station, and Blair had no classes. A calm day. A relaxing day. A day to be together. The day they looked forward to all week.

Right now Blair was almost praying for Monday to come.

The station and the University were both air-conditioned. Normally the loft would have been, too, but Jim's sensitive nose had detected a leak in the coolant system that meant that they couldn't use it until it was fixed. Which meant that it was hotter than hell in the loft, the high ceilings only serving to trap more heat and converting the normally airy loft into an convection oven. And, given the current demand for air-conditioner repair, Blair was forced to wonder if it might not be quicker to wait for winter to come back. Even as 'warm-weather' as he was, Blair was slowly dying. *Come on,* he grumbled to an uncaring God, *I said I liked it warm, not hot enough to melt the pavement!*

But whatever he was feeling was nothing to what his Sentinel was feeling. Jim had spent eighteen months in a jungle, and the heat was an uncomfortable but bearable trial. It was the mugginess, the heavy stillness of the air, and the unusually heavy seasonal smog Cascade occasionally suffered from that was driving him up the walls, and Blair rubbed his thumb across his lip as he contemplated his suffering lover.

He hated to see him like this, driven to frustrating inactivity by a heat wave that flattened him every time he tried to move. His senses had been acting up because of it, making a bad situation even worse, and Blair was afraid Jim was starting to crack slightly under the strain. He hadn't said anything to indicate that, but over the years the Guide had learned to read his Sentinel, and now he was worried. He chewed on his thumb as he contemplated his options. The seduction of months past, when Jim had finally moved on his feelings for Blair, struck him, and he glanced at the freezer with sudden inspiration. They should still be there…

He got to his feet and ambled into the kitchen to open the freezer. Jim glanced over at him from his sprawl across the couch, clad only in a T-shirt and threadbare cut-off jeans, and shook his head with regretful firmness. "Sorry, Chief, no can do. We can't afford to waste the electricity, even though it's hot."

Blair grinned at Jim as he opened the freezer door. "Hey, don't worry. I'm just looking for something." Jim gave him a skeptical look, shifting to see him more clearly, and Blair gave him his best 'trust me' look. With a shrug, Jim gestured resignedly towards him, and Blair smiled in triumph as he turned back around. God, he loved that man.

He rummaged around through the freezer, aware of Jim's bemused gaze on him. With a hidden grin he wriggled his hips ever so slightly as he shifted items from one side of the freezer to the other, and sensed a sudden stillness behind him. Then a finger touched the nape of his neck, making him jump. It traced down his back with tantalizing deliberateness to the base of his spine, where it pressed for a moment, then disappeared.

Blair turned around to face his lover with an inquiring expression, and hid his automatic, instinctive reaction to the sight of his lover standing close behind him, love and desire glittering in his blue, blue eyes. *Focus, Sandburg, focus. Just be patient.*

"You know, Jim, I'm never going to find it if you keep distracting me." Somehow, he managed to put just the right mixture of exasperation and equanimity into his voice, and Jim gave him a disbelieving look.

Without waiting for an answer, he turned back and resumed his search, this time making sure he kept all his movements completely innocent. There was a growl behind him, sounding exactly like the rumble of a pissed-off panther, and Blair grinned again. Then he spotted it, wedged in the back of the freezer.

"Yes!" He carefully extracted it, then turned around to flourish his prize.

Jim looked at him and the brightly-colored box he was waving and raised an eyebrow. "Creamsicles? You've got to be kidding, Chief—aren't you a little old for kid stuff?" He smirked slightly.

Blair ignored him and opened the box, pulling out a single creamsicle and tossing the empty box onto the counter. It thumped and rattled emptily—Blair had the last one. Slowly, carefully, he peeled away the paper wrapping and held up the bright orange treat to Jim's reluctantly interested look.

"And what's that supposed to be for, exactly?"

Blair took a long lick and raised his eyebrows. Jim slowly straightened from his casual stance against the kitchen island, blue eyes narrowing at the devilish grin Blair could feel stretching his face. He took another lick.

"Strip."

Jim stopped in his tracks, eyeing Blair warily. "Why?"

Blair took another slow, leisurely lick, swirling his tongue across the length of the creamsicle teasingly. "Just wanted to cool you off, big guy," he said innocently. "I know how hot you've been lately."

Jim tried to keep his expression reluctant, but Blair could see a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he stripped off the blue T-shirt he was wearing, revealing smooth, firm muscle and tight brown nipples already peaked. Blair grinned at him and deliberately deep-throated the creamsicle, then pulling back with a succulent sucking noise. Jim gave him a startled look that quickly metamorphosed into searing heat, and big, deft hands quickly unsnapped and unzipped his jeans. Moving slowly, he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his shorts, pushing them down deliberately until they lay on the floor at his feet. He stepped out of them, and his eyes locked with Blair's as he finally stood naked in the kitchen, his stance faintly challenging.

Blair felt like smiling, but managed to restrain himself. Instead he handed Jim his creamsicle—savoring the startled look that again crossed his partner's face—and nonchalantly took off his clothes. When he was nude he stretched, enjoying the feel of air currents on his overheated skin and the stunned look on Jim's face. Then he took back his creamsicle with a smile and sauntered into the living room. Turning, he leaned against the back of the couch and gave Jim an inquiring look. "You coming, Jim?"

Jim prowled into the living room, his eyes a startling blue, and dark with frustration and reluctant amusement, and came to a halt in front of his grinning roommate. "All right, Sandburg," he growled, trying very hard for gruff impatience. "Just what's going on here?"

Blair gave him a quiet smile. "Just what I said, Jim. I'm going to cool you down." With a move too quick for Jim to block, he reached out and drew the tip of his creamsicle over Jim's ribs. Jim jerked, breath catching, and Blair took advantage of his momentary shock to lean forward and follow the path of the creamsicle with his tongue. The mixture of icy cold and slick warmth made Jim shudder and sway, and Blair's eyes lit up. He'd hoped that Jim's Sentinel abilities would react that way to the intense, conflicting stimulation of alternating warm-and-cold, and he set out to explore the limits of his discovery to the fullest.

For the next fifteen minutes Blair explored Jim's body, while his lover stayed frozen in place, fighting to keep his feet under Blair's determined onslaught. He used the creamsicle to trace the sharply-delineated, rippling lines of every muscle on his chest, stomach, and back, following up on the touches with his mouth and teeth and tongue and free hand, constantly stroking and caressing, lingering on the places he knew drove Jim wild, and discovering new ones. Jim's sense of touch had to be jacked up to its highest limits, he realized after Jim groaned and arched helplessly into a stream of air he had blown *over* the creamsicle. There wasn't any actual contact with his skin but the cold and warm air blossoming against his skin, but Jim shook under the transient sensation like he was dying, eyes closing in pure pleasure.

Blair sobered at that, moving around his stationary lover in dedicated silence, feeling the import of his actions with every soft moan he made, every involuntary tremble, every time his knuckles clenched with the effort to stay still. With every soft kiss, every gliding stroke, every teasing lick, every nip and nuzzle, he tried to tell Jim he loved him, with a depth of feeling that sometimes scared him but was nevertheless undeniable, soft kisses and small nips more eloquent of the love he felt for this man than sometimes he could say with words. And Jim reacted to the unspoken words, giving himself over to Blair in an act of trust that shook him, and warmed him with a heat that had nothing to do with the weather.

And he shook himself, so aroused he didn't know how he could stand it. More aroused than he'd ever been before.

He had been deliberately ignoring Jim's erection; now, he turned his attention to the straining flesh, abandoning the last fragments of the creamsicle to take the head in his mouth. Above him Jim jerked and groaned as he carefully placed his lips just behind the ridge and breathed out warm air across the sensitive skin, then closed his lips tightly and flicked the tip of his tongue across the tip. Hands settled on his head, combing into his hair, sliding to cradle his skull and kneading his scalp restlessly as Jim began to thrust blindly into the wet heat of Blair's mouth. Blair eased back on the stimulation, seeking to draw out Jim's response even more, but a desperate tightening by the hands in his hair changed his mind, and instead he swirled his tongue over the head like he was licking the creamsicle, sucking and with a slight pressure of teeth. Once, twice, the hands in his hair and the body beneath his touch growing more and more tense, the gasps and moans turning into cries above him. His left hand went to cup Jim's balls and roll them between strong, delicate fingers, and his right crept over his hip to trace with maddening care the cleft of his buttocks. A single finger crept in between them, and pressed against the tight, warm dusky pucker with barely-there pressure.

It was the last straw. Jim came, shouting hoarsely his ecstasy, that magnificent body convulsing spastically, and Blair closed his eyes in pleasure and overwhelming desire as he swallowed the bitter fluid that filled his mouth. Jim's knees unlocked and he crumpled to the floor.

Blair quickly surged to his feet, moving awkwardly with one of the biggest hard-on's he'd ever had in his life, but still in time to catch Jim and slow his descent. They came to a stop tangled together, and Blair cradled him on the floor, catching his breath as his cock brushed against a warm, solid thigh. Unable to help himself, he began to move, thrusting against Jim, catching his breath at the exquisite agony-ecstasy of the sensation of Jim's soft hair-dusted skin against his painfully sensitive cock. Only a few thrusts and he was coming as well, crying out Jim's name and clinging to him like an anchor in the storm as he bucked and shuddered through his orgasm.

The comedown was long and sweet, the two of them twined together, panting, sweat cooling on their overheated bodies, barely conscious but fully aware of the other's presence. Jim was the first to move, pulling himself free of Blair's embrace with a sucking sound as sweaty, come-streaked skin separated. Turning back to his lover, he helped him to his feet and they steadied each other as the room swayed alarmingly. Jim bent his head, resting his forehead on Blair's shoulder as his hands went down to close around his back and pull the two of them securely together. Blair felt Jim's mouth open and move against his skin, heard a murmur of sound, and fought for comprehension.

"Hmm?"

Jim raised his head, and his eyes were calm, deep, and quiet, with a love that sent tingles all though Blair's body, right down to his toes. Jim smiled, then, the rare genuine smile that so few saw.

"I said, thank you."