The beat of the music throbbed low in his gut, vibrating through his bones and setting his teeth on edge. The glass ball circled high in the ceiling, scattering tiny shreds of light all around the room to flicker across waving arms and gyrating torsos. He could smell the heat, taste the tang of excitement in the back of his throat. Unable to stay still any longer, he moved, swaying his way into the crowd and the music. Another body flowed next to him, a strong arm tangling smoothly with his. Startled, Blair looked up into a pair of clear blue eyes.

The door whispered shut. Wait a minute, whispered shut? Jim craned his neck to get a good view of the foyer area, where Blair was quietly removing his coat. Blair, quiet? Jim blinked. Then blinked once more for good measure. Blair slowly and methodically hung the coat on the hook, then started moving sluggishly toward his room.

"Chief?" Jim called.

Blair jerked to a halt, then turned resignedly to face his roommate. "You're up," he observed, stating the obvious.

"Yeah, I am," Jim responded, also confirming the obvious.

An awkward pause filled the air. Blair fidgeted uneasily, body half-turned toward his room. Jim frowned. Something was definitely off with Sandburg.

"What happened?" he asked.

Blair tensed, then instantly deflated. Shuffling over to the couch, he curled down into a dejected slump next to Jim. The scent of alcohol and cigarettes assailed Jim as Blair went past, but that was to be expected when a guy was coming from a night out on the town.

"Well?" Jim prompted when Blair didn't speak.

"Nothing. What makes you think something happened?" Blair muttered.

"Well." Jim looked pointedly at Blair. "Let's start with the fact that you're not talking a mile a minute."

"Ha ha," Blair mocked heatlessly. He leaned forward, sweeping his hair back from his face with both hands.

Jim blinked as yet another scent hit his nose. A guy? Yes, another guy, one Jim didn't recognize. Now that he was aware of it, the scent hung thick, clinging to Blair, blending with his sweat, clammy and obtrusive, an unwelcome foreign intrusion on familiar comfortable terrain.

"It's stupid, really," Blair was saying.

Jim hardly heard him. Blair, with a guy? What the hell? A cautious sniff revealed no telltale tang of semen. Jim relaxed fractionally. But Blair was obviously upset about something.

"Some guy bother you?" he asked, silently congratulating himself on the calm, non-judgmental tone he'd managed.

Blair's head jerked up sharply. "How'd you... Oh, sentinel senses." He slumped back. "It's stupid," he repeated, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

"If this guy did something you didn't want..." Jim started.

"No, no." Blair shook his head. "It wasn't like that. Just..." He broke off. "I mean, we were, uh." His hand moved in a vague gesture that wasn't particularly illuminating. "And, well, he suggested we move it someplace private, I said no, and it was cool." He shrugged.

"You... uh... it was consensual?" Jim asked, needing to be sure.

"Yeah... Yeah, it was," Blair confirmed.

Okay. Jim took a deep breath. "So... What's the matter?"

"What's the matter?" Blair groaned. "Wha... why, everything, that's the matter! This... I... I don't..." He trailed off, burying his head in his hands.

"Come on, Chief," Jim soothed. "It's okay."

"Okay?" Blair blinked. "Okay? No, Jim, I..." He slouched back down into the cushions.

Jim warily eyed Blair. His instinct was to reach out to comfort, but he wasn't sure if the touch would be welcome now. He settled on leaning closer toward Blair, carefully keeping his hands tucked on his own lap.

"This someone you know?" he asked.

Blair shook his head.

"Okay." Jim paused reflectively. "So what's getting you? It was a guy? Or it was somebody you didn't know?"

Blair turned toward Jim, surprised. "Uh..." He hesitated. "I don't know. Both, I guess. I mean... I don't make a habit of either, you know. I mean, not like that. I know, you think I'd hump anything that moves, but I don't. Not like that. Not..." He clammed up, obviously not about to elaborate.

Jim sighed. Was this what Sandburg felt like when he was trying to get him to talk? "Want to tell me what happened, exactly?"

Blair sat woodenly, his lips pressed into a thin line.

"Come on, Chief," Jim urged. "Those things happen. No big deal, you know?"

Blair blinked. He peered at Jim skeptically. "Man," he commented, "you're way too calm about this. I mean, I'm wigging out, and you're like..."

Jim shrugged. He could do calm when he needed to. They couldn't both freak at once. "Like I said, no big deal. I mean," he hastily added, "it is a big deal, since you're obviously bothered by it, but... hey." He shrugged again. "It... happens."

"It happens, and that's it?" Blair asked incredulously.

"For some people, yeah. For others..." He paused, sharply aware of Blair's intent gaze. "I mean, if you like it, you like it, right? And if both parties consent..."

Blair stared at Jim, mouth half open as if he were about to say something, then snapped it shut so hard Jim heard his teeth click. "I..." He swallowed hard. "I'm taking a shower."

Blair stood abruptly and walked away, leaving Jim awash in a swirl of scent and taste -- of cigarette, alcohol, and the unfamiliar sweat.

Water cascaded down his body, caressing his skin, suffusing him with warmth. Steam infused his lungs, lodging thick moisture far back in his throat. Tilting his head, he let the clear sweetness of water fill his mouth. He moved soapy hands over his body, brushing against sensitive parts... and gasped, stepping back into the shower curtain. The wet sheet gripped his skin, clinging to him like the echo of a lover.

The night air brushed coolly against Jim's face. In the harbor, waves glinted in the pale light of Cascade's night. Idly, he gazed out, skimming the vessels and light buoys that dotted the dark surface. He swallowed the beer and told himself that just because Sandburg had this one encounter, didn't mean that he'd be interested in having more.

The soft screech of the shower faucet was followed immediately by the cessation of running water. Jim listened to the soft rustle of towels as Blair dried off, then tracked him as he moved to his room and pulled on his sweats. Soft footsteps moved through the living room, heading toward the balcony.

Jim took a deep breath and swallowed another mouthful of beer just as Blair poked his head through the open balcony door.

"Jim?" Blair queried.

"Hey," Jim smiled, turning slightly.

"Nice out," Blair commented as he stepped onto the balcony.

"Mmm-hmmm," Jim agreed, offering the bottle to Blair. The scent of water and soap laced with the spicy herbs from the shampoo wafted through the air as Blair automatically moved to accept the bottle and took a swig, eyes fixed on the harbor. Damp curls flickered in the night, then Blair was offering the bottle back to him, eyes not quite meeting Jim's.

"Feel better?" Jim asked as he took back the beer.

"Yeah." Blair fidgeted, eyes once again sliding toward the bay. "It's..." He nervously fingered the collar of his t-shirt. "It shouldn't be such a big deal. Like you said."

Jim shrugged. "Never happened before, huh," he said. He took another sip, letting Blair flow over his tongue along with the beer.

"Nope," Blair laughed, dry and mirthless. "It's... it's okay when it happens to other people, right? Hey cool, you know? 'Love who you want.' 'Do what feels good.'"

"Did it?"

Blair looked blank.

"Feel good, I mean," Jim clarified.

"Oh, god," Blair chuckled hollowly. "Did it. Ever." He turned, leaning back against the balcony rail. "You know what's freaky is, I almost said yes. I mean... I..."

Blair suddenly seemed to find his toes extremely interesting, as if he could even see his toes in the dark. Jim watched the soft fuzzy hairs on the back of Blair's neck waver ever so slightly in the night air. Once again, he wanted to reach out, reassure Blair with a touch, like he always did. Instead, he dangled the nearly empty beer bottle in front of Blair's face.

"When I was in high school," he began as Blair took the bottle. "I had this buddy, Stewart. We were, best friends, I guess." He shrugged. "Hung out together, went places, shot hoops after school. You know."

Blair stared up at Jim, beer clasped loosely in his hand.

"So..." Jim kept going. His mouth was dry, and he had to swallow hard to get his tongue moist. "One day, you know, we were hanging at his place, in his room, just talking. About girls. What it'd be like. Neither of us had any experience, yet, you know. And we were speculating, about, well, what it would be like. To have a girl touch you, how would it feel to have someone suck you. And..."

Blair stood silently, waiting.

"Well, one thing after another, and we just, you know, ended up, well..." Jim shrugged again.

Blair's eyes were dark and deep in the night. "And...?" A whisper, barely audible even to sentinel senses. He could lose himself in those eyes, in the sound of that voice. Jim wrenched himself away, casting his sight and hearing out into the harbor. His eyes focused on the markings of a tanker. Some kind of weird foreign script. Piggybacking hearing on sight, he could hear the waves lapping against the hull of the ship.

Beside him, Blair shifted, moving infinitesimally closer.

"Nothing," he finally answered. "Week after that, Stew got a date with Angela. Two months later, he did it with her. Told me all the details afterwards."

Blair shifted again, drawing in a breath. "So..." Whatever he was going to say was lost in a giant sneeze.

Startled, Jim's hands unclenched from the rail. God, when had he gripped it so tight? "You ok?" he asked, just as another sneeze wracked Blair's body. "Inside," he ordered, gently turning Blair with a hand on his shoulder. Blair didn't protest, hastily making his way to the living room to grab some tissue. Jim closed the balcony doors and watched Blair dab at his nose. "Tea?" he asked, not bothering to wait for an answer before moving to the kitchen and grabbing the kettle. Still sniffling, Blair followed and started rummaging the cupboards for the tea tin. By the time Jim had set the full kettle on the fire, two mugs, each with a tea bag, were standing on the counter side-by-side, waiting for hot water.

Cozy. Downright domestic.

Jim fingered the tag on a tea bag, frowning at the foreign writing. He sniffed. "Mango?" He thought a bit. "Orange peel. Clove. Wait, Papaya? Sandburg, this is more fruit juice than tea!"

"Trust me, you'll like it." Blair grinned as he plunked the jar of honey next to the mugs. "It's good for you," he added, placing a light hand on Jim's forearm.

"So you say," Jim grinned back, delivering a light, teasing slap to Blair's forehead. He could do normal, he could. That was what Blair needed, right?

Blair let out a mock-enraged squeak and threw a fake punch toward Jim's stomach. Laughing, Jim grabbed at Blair's wrists and tried to trap him into a wrestling hold. Quick as silver, Blair slipped under Jim's arm, twisting out of the hold. Jim followed, trapping Blair against the refrigerator, wiggling fingers reaching for Blair's ribs.

He needed normal, too.

Squealing now in earnest, Blair pushed up against Jim, valiantly trying to avoid the invading fingers. Blair's warmth and scent flowed over and around Jim; his hitching breath tickled his ears. Blair's muscles flexed as his body pushed against Jim, pressing them together from knee to chest. Jim allowed himself to relax into the contact, pinning Blair down by sheer weight, the feel of Blair's unrestrained giggles vibrating through their bodies.

And normal was suddenly something more, a slow rise of tingling warmth suffusing his body and seeping into his soul, enfolding and encompassing them both as Blair molded himself into Jim.

The kettle whistled. Jim flinched, but strong hands grabbed his shoulder, steadying him. A gentle whiff of Blair-smelling air mingled with Jim's breath as Blair peered into his face, watching levelly as he adjusted his hearing. A soft smile and a final pat to the shoulder as Jim straightened, and Blair brushed past, grabbing the kettle off the stove while flicking off the fire with the other hand.

As Blair poured the hot water into the mugs, the pungent aroma of tea filled the kitchen, stealing away the taste of Blair's breath. The sweet tang of dried fruits and spices balanced well with the rich darkness of the tea itself, creating a pleasant, calming effect, just as Blair had promised.

Balance. How odd that some things worked together in ways you didn't think they would, if only they were balanced just so.

He picked up a mug as soon as it was filled, shaking away Blair's offer of the honey, and headed out to the living room, relaxing into the sofa. Blair followed him out, stirring his honey-laced tea, and settled into the cushion next to Jim.

Jim sipped his tea, content with the silence, with the presence of Blair sitting close by, the slow curl of affection between them as palatable as the strength of the tea infusing his body.

"You know," Blair said into his tea, "I never had a friend like that in school."

Jim turned.

"I mean," Blair went on, "not the part where you... um." He made a quick jerking movement with his hand. "But the part where you hang out together, do everything together. Talk about everything, including girls and stuff. I didn't... I mean, I was a geek, you know? Always the odd man out."

The lost, plaintive tone tugged deep and hard inside Jim. "You're unique, Chief," he managed.

Blair snorted. "Another way of saying odd, man."

"No, Chief, you're..." He choked, not having words to say what Blair meant to him, to sum up the multitude of ways, both small and large, that made Blair essential to his life.

Blair turned his head, looking mutely into Jim's eyes.

Jim reached out, intending to ruffle Blair's hair, but the touch turned into a soft, lingering caress. Blair's eyes were wide. Open. Seeking. Jim's hand brushed a gentle curve down Blair's cheek, thumb tracing his lips.

"Stupid kids," he murmured, "not to appreciate you."

With a quiet sigh, Blair rolled his head onto Jim's chest, and Jim cradled him, holding him carefully against his heart.

Quiet seeped into his soul, infusing his heart with a calm he'd never known. The subdued light of the lamp matched the subtle rhythm of the hand softly caressing his hair. A strong arm anchored him against a solid body, the warm spicy scent lulling him into the rise and fall of the chest beneath his cheek until his breath matched the other. Serene, Blair looked up into Jim's clear blue eyes.