Title: The Taste of Home

Author: alee

Feedback: gothphyle@alltel.net

Author's Website: http://www.flowersontherazorwire.com

Pairing: Jim/Blair

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Home can be many things, and many flavors. Essentially sensual erotica without plot )

Disclaimer: They are not mine. I'll give them back to Pet Fly... eventually.


The Taste of Home
by alee

It was soft, fine-grained and silky, and nothing had ever tasted so good. He nuzzled closer, lips tracing a fine network of exploration as his tongue danced between them. Lapping at the small pool of sweat gathered beneath the hollow where skull and spine fused, he hummed in contentment. Smooth, and tart, and rich: all the things Blair should be, all the things he *was*, distilled into his sweat like the most coveted of bootleg whiskies.

It was intoxicating to bask in the flavor, thrilling in a way that anonymous sex could never be. This was *Blair*, and that simple fact made this so much more, made the journey that much more exciting. So easy to lose track of time and space, and immerse himself completely in the moment. A pleasure beyond life, beyond breath, a sweet vice to tempt Narcissus away from his vanity if only he had been offered *this* instead.

Blair shivered beneath him, goose-flesh rising along his neck and arms as Jim's warm breath moistened his skin. He smiled, delighting in the response, and angled his face to the side, licking a slow, wet stripe up the side of Blair's neck below his ear. Here the taste was stronger, a heady mix of sweat and smoke from the grill. He grinned to himself, thinking of the picture Blair had made earlier that afternoon, sleeves cuffed and hair tied back, top two buttons undone as he leaned over the old grill.

He had nodded intently as Jim explained the finer points of barbeque, the mental wheels almost visible in their turning as he assimilated and filed for future reference. In exasperation, Jim had reached over, hooking the fingers of his left hand in Blair's waistband and hauling him close for a sweet, sloppy kiss before chidingly reminding him that a barbeque was meant to be *fun*. The sparkle in the blue eyes laughing into his, and the barely concealed mirth teasing at the edges of those chiseled lips, had warmed him more surely than the sun ever could. Such a little thing, really -- two friends and lovers laughing over a grill and a kiss -- but so much more than that: delight that this time could be spent together, longing for another 50 years as perfect as the last two, and always, always so much love.

Peppering a row of kisses behind Blai's ear, he nuzzled his way across the back of Blair's neck, ending with his lips wrapped around the lobe of his ear. The satiny skin was warm between his lips, pliable and smooth. He lipped the flange slowly, rolling it between gentle teeth as his tongue traced the edge. Here there was a hint of apple cider, left from an earlier press of Jim’s tongue. The salty-sweet mix of cider and Blair coursed across his taste buds, tingling through his mouth like a fine wine. He hummed in appreciation, fusing his lips more tightly to insure no drop of the rich, luxuriant flavor escaped.

With a final lick, he abandoned the lobe and moved downward, fusing lips and tongue to Blair's pulse. The delicate flutter against his lips was hypnotizing, weighting his lids as his heart and lungs sought to match the rhythm. He flattened his tongue against the pulse, feeling the vessel seem to swell and rise, as if trying to reach him. If he concentrated, he could almost *taste* the flow, dark and rich with promise and mystery, sweet and thick like a ripe plum.

Blair moaned beneath him, eyes fluttering in pleasure as Jim lapped at his throat. He extended his head, arched his neck in mute offering. Jim dipped his head further, face buried between Blair's skin and the mattress as he tried to reach as much of that skin as he could. Angling, twisting, head just so, until his tongue pierced the hollow of Blair's throat, stabbing into the well with short, shallow strokes.

Blair bucked beneath him, fingers scrabbling to find a purchase in the twisted sheets as Jim nibbled and teased the sensitive grotto. It never failed to drive him wild when Jim licked that particular spot, and Jim never passed up an opportunity to explore the limits of Blair's reactions to its stimulation. Here, Blair tasted of *them*, of the combination of his own heady flavor and the slight trace of Jim that no shower could ever fully shield from Jim's sensitive taste buds, lovingly painted with attentive laps of his tongue every night for the past two years. Sentinel and guide, lover and beloved, earth and sky blended into a perfect bouquet. Sometimes he thought that if he could stay here forever, drinking in the essence of his beloved, he would never need nourishment again.

Blair shifted, tucking his head over Jim's and tunneling his hand into his hair. So much warmth, and skin, curled about his face and neck as he continued to lick and suck. It was like drowning, but far too exhilarating to ever be feared or avoided. It was total submersion in his lover, it was becoming lost in the taste of his heart's desire, it was...everything. He traced his love and thanks onto each wet line, tonguing his joy and affection against the elegant line of Blair's throat.

The hand cupping his scalp tightened in understanding, pulling him even closer as Blair moaned in encouragement. Blair's love bloomed against his tongue, flavor sparkling and rich as it seeped through his skin with every liquid drop. It was the taste of home.



##Finis##