Work Text:
Firsts
by Morudai (Margaret Newman aka mereridkat)
"Hi, honey! I'm home!" Blair called out as he pushed the door open with his left hand, and pulled the key out of the lock with his right. Jim's special recipe spaghetti sauce is simmering on the stove, watering coming to a boil in the big pan. The television is on, the new big screen that they had indulged in for themselves, for Christmas.
He stopped, nearly dropping his keys.
*Shit!* He almost said it out loud. Home. The loft had become his home. When was the last time he had felt that? Gods, had he ever?
It was more than just the loft. It was Jim too. He had something solid, something true with Jim that he'd never had before, ever. His other lovers had never lasted long, he had always known it, even if he had toyed with the idea of love.
He was in love with Jim.
The loft was home.
"Blair!" Jim bellowed again from the bathroom, and Blair realized he had called his name more than once.
"Yeah?" Blair called back, half-shaking as he put the keys into the basket.
"Check the spaghetti water for me, will you?" Jim asked him, the bathroom door cracked a little. What was he doing in there? His voice was too clear for him to be on the john. He had to be standing at the counter. What, shaving? Now?
Blair leered. Wooo, baby, he was getting lucky tonight!
"Sure!" Blair replied, and walked over to the stove. The water was hot, but no where near boiling. He stared at the water for a moment, thinking. Home. Love. He had a permanent job with a pension and vacation time. Jim's family was still shaky on the whole gay thing, but they were coming around.
And what about Christmas? It had been pretty sweet. Included like they were married or something. He had a place at Jim's dad's table. Stephen asked him for advice. How cool was that?
He realized all of a sudden that Jim was standing beside him, and he shifted, looking around at him lover, his partner. Jim looked like he'd just come out of the shower, all squeaky clean like. He was naked except for the silky white, loose fitting pajama-type pants. They hung low on his hips, dipping below his navel.
"Jim?" Blair asked, suddenly feeling like he'd missed a special anniversary. "What's going on?"
"I was thinking these last few days." Jim took a breath. "I think we've passed some plateau or something. Maybe I have, I don't know. But-. Well, I decided. I'm ready."
"Ready?" Blair repeated dumbly. His mouth had gone dry, and the word sounded choked.
Jim leaned over and kissed him lightly on the lips.
"Yeah, ready. You said you'd wait. Well, I think you've waited long enough. Until you, I've never felt comfortable being the bottom. But what I feel with you is different."
"Jim." He whispered the name fervently.
"This is our first anniversary of sorts." Jim looked away briefly, almost shyly. "I thought we could celebrate with a new first. Unless you-."
"Jim, babe. Yes." Blair nodded like a bobble head doll. "You serious? I mean it's obvious you're serious, but I wasn't pushing, I mean-."
Jim smiled at him, and it was dazzling.
"I was trying to prep a little bit. We can have dinner, watch a movie, make out some." Jim sidled closer, leaning over to whisper in Blair's left ear. "I put something *in*, and I don't mean the oven." He licked Blair's ear lobe. "Or the dvd player. A little something to loosen me up, if you get my drift."
Blair swallowed nervously. He went from regular guy to half hard and panting in seconds. Bam!
"Yeah." Blair whispered again. "Yeah."
"Blair, babe?"
"Huh?"
"You're drooling."
Well, duh!
end