Title: Chocolate And Peanut Butter

Author/pseudonym: Mona Ramsey (MonaR.)

Fandom: The Sentinel

Pairing: Jim Ellison/Blair Sandburg

Rating: NC-17

Status: Complete, stand-alone.

Archive: Yes to WWOMB.

Series/Sequel: No.

Other websites: None.

Disclaimers: Not mine.

Notes: Countless trademarks are being violated, countless copyrights infringed. Sue me.

Summary: Blair confesses a 'dark' secret, and Jim provides the ideal companion piece.

Warnings: Explicit slash (m/m) content. First-time.

"Chocolate and Peanut Butter"

by Mona Ramsey

Jim stopped in the doorway of the loft, a rich, intoxicating scent reaching his nostrils. He

breathed deeply, then came over and leaned against the back of the couch. Blair was sprawled on the floor, leaning against the seat and munching. "What are you eating?"

"Mmm? What, Jim?"

"You. What are you eating?"

Blue eyes blinked at him, uncomprehending. "Why are you home so early?"

"Simon's feeling altruistic, and I'm taking advantage of it. It doesn't happen that often."

He picked up a crumpled wrapper that was lying beside Blair's seated form and looked at it,

startled. "Chocolate? Since when does Mr. Alfalfa Sprouts eat chocolate?"

"Haven't you heard? The combination of chemicals in chocolate mimics the brain reaction that you feel when you're in love."

Jim sighed, and parked himself on the couch. Blair scooted over on the floor to give him more

room. "I don't think I'd know what that felt like if I was hit on the head with a two-by-four of the

stuff."

"You're not the only one, Big Guy. I haven't had a slump this long since I got over that awkward

phase in high school." Blair handed a square of chocolate to Jim, who unwrapped it almost unconsciously and popped it in his mouth.

"Mmph," Jim nodded. "If my success rate was this low at *work*, I'd be six months into my unemployment." He held his hand out for more of the dark drug.

"You don't suppose that it's something *we're* doing, do you? 'Cause I don't *feel* any different." Blair threw his head back, letting the melted confection make its sweet way down his

throat. He rested his head on the couch, closing his eyes.

"I haven't noticed anything, Chief," Jim said. "Maybe we've gone through the entire dating pool of available women in Cascade."

Blair groaned. "It can't be. I can't even think of a move until the school year's over."

"Well, maybe that's not it."

They sat in silence, the sounds of wrappers unwrapping and chewing the only noise in the loft.

At last, when they were surrounded by a not-insubstantial pile of debris, Jim stood up. "We can't just sit here and eat chocolate and feel sorry for ourselves all night."

"What did you have in mind?"

Jim just grinned at him, and walked silently into the kitchen, returning a moment later with one

hand behind his back. It wasn't until he reached the couch that he revealed his mysterious prize.

"Peanut butter! Perfect, Jim - we need protein, too."

Jim, pleased, sat down and handed the jar to Blair, who opened it, unwrapped another piece of

chocolate, and dunked it like an Oreo into a foamy glass of milk, scooping out a healthy amount of extra chunky and devouring it. "Mmm," he drooled, "wish I'd thought of this."

"That's why *I'm* the brains of this operation, Chief. And don't you forget it." Jim grabbed the

jar away and took his turn, double-dipping and laying back for a feast. "This is *much* better

than the prepackaged stuff."

"You know it."

Jim was now fully stretched across the couch, his legs dangling over the edge. He was in a perfect position to reach both peanut butter and chocolate pieces, which were in front of Blair. Their hands clashed in the jar only once, at which point Blair pushed him away, dipped his chocolate into the peanut butter jar and then brought the gooey mass up to Jim's mouth.

Jim took it all in, even playfully nibbling the excess peanut butter and the touch of melted

chocolate off of the tips of Blair's fingers. "Thanks, Chief."

"Don't mention it."

"I don't suppose I could convince you to do that again?"

Blair grinned at him, coyly, and made a big show of selecting a piece of chocolate and twisting it

in the jar, swirling it through the light-brown butter, picking up extra nuts, and finally bringing it all up to his roommate's mouth. Just when Jim was about to bite, he pulled away.

"Tease."

"What's the magic word, Jim?"

"Bite me?"

Blair shook his head, rolling his eyes. "With an attitude like that, I'm not sharing any more of my

chocolate."

"Fine," Jim said. "Then I'll have to take back *my* peanut butter."

"Oh, man, no fair."

"I think," Jim said, slowly, "that in order for both of us to get what we want, we have to work

together."

"Two heads are better than one."

Jim smiled. "Two great tastes that taste great together."

They looked at each other for a full thirty seconds, then, as one, lunged, smashing together

in middle of the tiny space between their bodies. The peanut butter jar dropped from Jim's hand as he found himself with an armful of extremely hot and horny partner, and felt a gentle 'squish' of Blair's choccy-p.b. masterpiece hitting him on the chest. The pervading feeling, however - the one that was fighting all others for supremacy - was the warm and hot mouth of Blair Sandburg pressed against his own.

It wasn't unpleasant.

It wasn't the slightest bit unnerving.

He wasn't stopping it.

**********

The sunlight coming through the windows was a painful sensation the next morning, but not quite

as painful as the fact that his left arm was wedged into the back of the couch. Jim opened his

eyes gingerly, knowing that he couldn't prevent the day that had already dawned and was fully

alive. He felt half dead.

He found his clothing in a heap on the floor, surrounding a mini-trash heap of small shiny wrappers. He stumbled, naked, to the bathroom, nearly taking a header over a jar for some reason lying in the middle of the floor, and stood in front of the toilet, relieving himself, trying to

remember what the best hangover cure he knew was. Something disgusting with eggs and Worcestershire sauce. Or jalapenos. Blair would know.

All he had to do was ask Blair.

All he had to do was find Blair and ask him what he'd -

Jim felt his eyes 'ping' open, and almost pitched over backwards on the tile floor. "Jesus!

Blair!"

"Jim?"

He did the wrong thing. He turned around. He'd tell himself that it was the wrong thing for a

long time to come.

Blair was standing there in the doorway. Also naked. He looked -

"You look wonderful."

Blair was gaping at him. Jim gaped back. He wondered where *that* had come from.

"So do you." Blair looked about as stymied as Jim felt.

Of course, he also looked - well, wonderful, just like Jim had said. He was naked and

ravished-looking, with swollen lips and bruised nipples, a ruby cock that was filling to half-mast

yet again - somehow, Jim remembered enough of what they'd done last night to add the 'again' part - and, if Jim wasn't wrong, he had a hickey on his neck. A fresh hickey. A hickey that looked -

He stepped closer to Blair, who was frozen on the spot. He didn't move even as Jim came closer,

reaching out a hand, pulling Blair into his arms and fastening his mouth once again over the tender flesh of his neck, suckling and kissing at the already-bruised spot.

"Mmm, just what I thought," Jim said, as his mouth broke away. He pulled Blair into his arms and hugged him tightly, his arms roving over Blair's back.

"What?"

"Your hickey."

Blair pulled back a little, looking Jim in the eyes. "What about it?"

Jim smiled. "It's chocolate-covered."

Blair grinned, a slow grin that blazed into life like the sunrise. "You gave me a chocolate kiss?"

"I gave you several, if I remember correctly."

His choice of words make Blair's smile disappear, and he started, nervous. "So, um, Jim - what

exactly *do* you remember about last night?"

Jim stopped. They weren't touching anymore, and he was aching for the return of Blair's touch.

But he could see in his lover's eyes confusion and doubt - the worst kind, self-doubt.

"I remember eating a massive amount of chocolate and peanut butter, the result of which should have been a huge stomach ache. However, I seem to recall working off most of what I ate with a

certain anthropologist acquaintance of mine. Kind of looks like you."

"Acquaintance?"

"Well, I just realized that I didn't really know who he was until a few hours ago. I thought he

was a lady-killer, terminally straight, and completely and totally interested in women. Period."

Blair's right eyebrow raised. "Sounds like the vibe you were giving off yourself, there, Jim."

Jim bowed his head. "Until last night, I would have thought that was a perfect description of

me."

"And now?"

"Now I'd like to try that chocolate kissing thing again." He bowed his head, aiming for Blair's

neck, but was pushed back again. He growled, deep in his chest, but didn't press his

height/weight/determination advantage.

"So this is all a result of a chocolate binge?"

Jim leaned back against the doorframe, seriously impinging upon Blair's space. "You know," he

said, casually, crossing his arms over his chest, "for an academic type of person, you're not all

that bright."

"Meaning what?"

"Blair, we've been 'roommates' for three years now. Don't you think that if there was nothing

more than a plain and simple friendship going on, you'd have moved on and gotten a place of your own, the better to cruise women with? Don't you think that I would have *wanted* you to do so, the better for *me* to cruise women with? The fact is, you're still here, and I want you here. And," he added, licking his lips, as if a final vestige of last night's binge was still present, "I want *you*."

He followed the swallow down Blair's throat, over his adam's apple, and down - down into silky chest hair and beyond, down, down - Only Blair's words kept him from zoning on 'down'.

" - and I just don't see how we could have missed something like *that*, Jim! I mean, surely we

would have - "

He respected Blair's right to over-analyze things to death, but really - enough was enough. He

didn't even realize the decision was made, and then all of a sudden, he was on his knees, and

Blair's cock was in his mouth.

The torrent of words the smaller man was throwing at him cut off abruptly, replaced with a

meaningless garble of sound, roughly translated as "oh, god yes, do me, right now!" Jim smiled

mentally, his mouth much too busy remembering all of the things that had been a fuzzy haze from the night before - the taste of Blair, the shifting textures of his skin, the muscles just below the surface, the velvety-smooth skin, the musk, the heat, the pulse of his orgasm as it flowed down his throat. It all came back to him in a - *literal* - rush.

His hands were locked around Blair's waist, and it was a good thing, for if Blair had fallen he would have taken Jim right with him. Jim smiled to himself at that thought.

"What's that for?" Blair whispered, tracing the smile with his fingers.

"Oh, I was just thinking, if I let you go, you'll fall."

"Damn straight." Blair grinned at him.

Jim grimaced. "Nice choice of words."

"I thought you'd appreciate it. And?"

"You fall, and we both go."

Blair's grin shifted into a smile, settling there, deepening. "Partners?"

"Lovers."

Blair bit his lip. "Friends?"

"Always, Blair."

Blair peeled Jim's hands off of his own hips, bringing them together, then sinking down on his

knees. "Oh, look," he said, as he pushed Jim over on his back on the floor, "I've fallen."

"And I've gone with you, Blair."

"Not yet, you haven't." Blair started to move his body, one hand reaching between them and curling into a fist around Jim's cock, the strokes over the engorged organ coming not merely from the hand that encircled him but from the motion of his entire being. He rocked against the bigger man, grinding out a hot and heady orgasm, tiny sparks flying from the friction of skin against skin as they gave themselves over to the heat of their desire. Blair came again, just from the steady warmth that was Jim, brushing the come from his sticky hand up and over Jim's chest, then gluing them together with it. "That's better," he said, tiredly, kissing Jim's neck.

"Much."

**********

They lazed on the floor until they recovered and realized that they were lying on the floor when

there were *much* more comfortable spots to be taken advantage of in their home. They were

headed up the stairs to just such a spot when Blair stopped, suddenly, and held on to Jim's hand, tightly. "Uh, Jim? There's something that I think that you should know before we do anything

else?"

His tone belied danger, but Jim couldn't brush him off. "What is it, Chief?" he asked, concerned.

"I'm a - " Blair blushed, then started again. His voice was very low. "I'm a secret chocoholic."

Sparkling blue eyes peeked through a curtain of dark curls.

Jim laughed and wrapped his arms around Blair's waist, slinging him over his shoulder and running up the final few stairs. "I've got news for you, Chief - it's not a secret anymore!"

The End

MonaR.