Title: Give a Little, Get a Lot

Author: Scribe

Fandom: The Sentinel/AU

Sequel: to 'The Drilling Rig'

Summary: Before their wedding, Blair takes drastic steps to help Jim deal with his 'control' issues. Is a horny Sentinel *really* more reasonable?]

Archive: Yes, but tell me where, give me credit, and supply the email addy.

Rating: NC17

Warning: Same sex marriage, if that bothers you.

Give a Little, Get a Lot
by Scribe

*taptaptaptap*

"Ah. Found it."

There was the crinkle of paper as a page of a shielding newspaper was turned. "Good, good."

*taptap*

"Ah-HAH! There's no waiting period for the license. We can pick it up just before the ceremony if we have to."

Another page turned. "Fantastic."

"But I think we should get it as soon as we arrive, just in case. Don't you?"

"Sure, better safe than sorry. Hm, the Jags are having a good season."

"There are a lot of businesses listed on this site that will help set up weddings. Full service with
rooms, limo, official, flowers, champagne..."

"Sounds good."

"They do a nondenominational ceremony. We could write our own vows."

"Uh-huh."

A hard stare was directed at the paper. "Since Simon, Rafe, and a few of the others are coming along we should have some sort of a reception or maybe a wedding dinner. They don't have a caterer listed, but I can probably find something on the 'net."

"Um."

Now the blue eyes were glaring. "Rafe has offered to do the cake."

"Sounds terrific."

"I'm leaning toward pistachio." There was a grunt. "With caramel icing." A hum. "And sauerkraut
filling."

"Sounds yummy."

The legal pad hit the paper with a heavy thump, crumpling it and startling the reader so badly that he ripped one of the pages.

"*JESUS, Jim! Gimme a heart attack, why dontcha?"

The big, dark-haired man at the computer grimly reached into Blair's lap and retrieved the pad,
dropping it back beside the keyboard. He picked up his pen and began to make notes again, ignoring his Guide.

Blair sighed and folded the paper. "What's wrong?" No reply. Jim clicked the mouse, jumping to a site that featured wedding photographers.

The few other men in the recreation room exchanged glances. Hell, even THEY knew what was wrong, but this wasn't the sort of situation where it was wise to interfere. Everyone went back to what they had been doing... studiously ignoring the couple.

Blair looked longingly at the stack of papers piled on the cushion beside him. They only got papers when the copter made a trip out to the rig, and thus they were usually a week or so behind on news. He'd been looking forward to gorging on the sports and editorial pages, but this situation wouldn't stand neglect. "C'mon, babe, what is it?"

"Nothing."

Blair winced. There was ice dripping from that single word. "Look, Jim, our ability to talk things out is what makes this relationship work."

"I've BEEN talking. You haven't been LISTENING." He tapped the pad. "I haven't been able to get a single useful piece of input from you on this."

Blair felt guilty, but shrugged. "I'm sorry, but I figured it'd be better to leave the details to you.
You know I'm not all that good at organizing things."

"You do all right in the kitchen."

"Yeah, and this job is the first time in my life I've managed to get anything in line and keep it there, and I'm busting a gut doing it. You... Hell, look under 'organized' in the encyclopedia and they'll have a picture of James Joseph Ellison under the definition."

"Blair, it's not like I'm asking you to register silver and china patterns. These are basic, necessary
things. Doesn't it make a bit of difference to you whether it's a civil or a religious ceremony?"

Blair sighed. "As long as we're together I really don't care if we have the canopy and wineglass." Jim looked puzzled. "I'm Jewish, Jim. You DID know that, didn't you?"

"I hadn't really thought about it to tell you the truth."

"See? I'm not the only one who isn't looking at the details." Blair saw the frown lines starting between Jim's eyebrows. *Shit, Sandburg. Pull the Nike out of you mouth NOW!*

He got up and moved the last few feet to stand beside Jim, putting his hand on his shoulder. The older man stiffened slightly. Blair said quietly, "If we were alone right now I'd have my arms around you. As it is, I'll have to make it up to you later." Under his hand, Jim was like stone. Blair rubbed gently, and after a moment he felt the muscles loosen a little. He felt relief, knowing that Jim was relenting.

*This isn't easy for him; he's been through so much. His marriage failed. He won't talk about it, but I get the feeling that his ex was kind of a bitch about it. He couldn't admit to himself that he was gay for such a long time, then he had to deal with that shit from his father. Then there's the Sentinel thing. God, that would be enough to put most people in a rubber room all by itself.*

He smiled to himself. *Then along comes Blair Sandburg. *DAMN, man. What did you do in your past life to deserve so much crap?* Aloud he said, "Can they fix us up with a luau for our wedding dinner?"

The frown lines smoothed out. "As a matter of fact, there's a company that specializes in that, if we still have enough time to make the reservation."

"Good. I want the whole deal: roast pig, poi, pina coladas..."

"I'm not sure pina coladas ARE part of a traditional luau."

"If we have a champagne toast, then I want a pina colada, too. And don't worry about the cake: I'll talk to Rafe about it."

The rest of the room's occupants breathed stealthy sighs of relief.

*

The next morning Rafe was sliding a pan of golden biscuits out of the oven. "Well, I don't know what else you expect, Blair. People get tired of being in charge of everything, all the time." He tossed a glance and a grin at the dark man who was studying a supply order booklet. "Ask Simon."

"Some people thrive on it, but basically, it sucks," the older man agreed. "That time between when my last assistant left and you showed up was sheer hell. It's not surprising that Jim wants a little help in making the decisions that are gonna affect the both of you. And remember, if you don't give him input, you have no call to gripe if he chooses to do something you don't like."

Blair sighed, giving the pot of stewed fruit simmering on the stove another stir. "Man, being an adult is a bummer sometimes."

"Yeah, but there are compensations," Simon offered. "You've got yourself a fantastic chance here, Sandburg. I've never in my life seen two people click like you and Ellison, and it doesn't look like just INFATUATION." He held up a finger, "BUT."

Blair, hand on hip, head cocked, echoed him. "BUT?"

"But no relationship can survive for long if one side is responsible for everything, all the decisions. There's nothing wrong with one of 'em taking the lead, but there has to be some sort of balance, you know? The one in charge burns out, and the one who isn't usually starts to resent it. Even strong relationships have broken up because of something like that."

Blair felt a tickle of unease. Simon was right: he'd seen the same thing himself among friends and
acquaintances. Well, that wasn't going to happen with him and Jim, he decided firmly. Jim seemed to be open to the idea. After all, he'd been asking for Blair's input on the wedding, hadn't he? And come to think of it, there were certain other aspects of this relationship that Blair felt like he wanted a say in, too. He figured that he'd better get started.

Lunch seemed like a good enough time.

Blair left the last of the serving to Luke and went to join Jim, as had become his habit. He sat and watched with fond amusement as Jim made his way through a huge plate of beef Stroganoff. "I gave Simon the recipe. Did he put in enough sour cream?" Jim answered by making a circle with his thumb and forefinger, but he didn't stop eating. "Damn, have you developed a hole in your foot? You're putting away more than usual, even for you."

Jim took another bite of roll. "Yeah, well, we're having to work our butts off to make up for the time we lost when we were down. I can't help it if I burn it off." He sighed. "I'm getting too old for this shit."

*Bingo. Opening.* "So you need a career change."

"I guess so, when my contract is up. I don't know what the hell I'll DO, though."

"Police detective."

Jim stopped chewing, staring at Blair. Finally he finished the mouthful. "Where the hell did you come up with THAT?"

"You said you were a police detective when you came back from Peru."

"I also said that I couldn't take it. I had to give it up."

"Yes, but that was when your senses were all over the place, right?"

"Right." He didn't QUITE sound grudging. "When they weren't spiking and sending me into shivering fits of complete helplessness, they were a real asset."

"Jim, this is what you were born for. You're a Sentinel, man, a guardian. You've got your senses,
you've got your Guide..."

"I don't have a tribe."

"Where did you work before?"

"Cascade, Washington. The place could be a madhouse. It's one of the highest crime areas in the nation, all kinds of weird shit always going down. But it had a lot of pretty country around it."

"You should see your face when you say 'Cascade', Jim. You get a far off look in your eyes. And they have a major university there, don't they?"

"Sure. Rainier."

"Perfect! They even have a good anthropology department there."

"Oh, now, look, Chief. Don't go making all sorts of plans. We both have over a year to go on our
contracts..."

"No we don't."

"WHAT?"

"My Mom looked into it. She has all kinds of pro bono lawyer friends. They say that we can't be held to the contracts. We'd have to give up the medical, and we'd only get back what we put into the investment funds, no interest, but it could be done."

"But I'd feel kind of bad about just quitting."

"So we give them one, two months notice. That will be plenty of time. We'd need the time, anyway, for you to contact the PD and me to contact the college. Anyway, they may not have an opening for you right away, so nothing would be too sudden."

"They may not have an opening for me, period."

"Jim, do you REALLY not want to do this, or are you being stubborn on general principles because you don't like someone else making a decision that affects you?"

Jim stood up, taking his plate. "I need to go check the equipment before we start back up."

As he started to walk away Blair called, "You're avoiding the issue, man."

"No, I have to get back."

"Yeah, like YOU'RE gonna pass up dessert."

That afternoon Jim worked harder than all his men, earning a few surprised looks. Sure, Ellison never backed down from hard work, but he wasn't dumb enough to do what he didn't have to, either. It didn't accomplish what he was hoping for, though. He was still thinking about what Sandburg had proposed.

The time he had spent as a police detective had been both the most frustrating and the most satisfying of his entire life. Satisfying because he was GOOD at it, and he was making a difference, but frustrating because he knew he could be so much BETTER. The senses weren't the only reason he'd left the force, though they were the main reason. There had been another stress at work.

Carolyn had tried to direct his choice of careers, too, but her reasons had never seemed all that
compelling. Money? They were doing all right, better than all right. Time together? He wasn't the only one who was never at home. What it came down to was that she thought the career was wrong for HER HUSBAND.


He'd been lonely. Even when he was married, he'd been lonely. Funny how Carolyn could be in the same room, and he'd felt totally alone. If you were going to do that kind of work, dealing with the worst of humanity, you needed someone who understood and supported you...

*...and that's what I have now. Son of a bitch, Sandburg's right.* Jim winced. *And I have to tell
him that.* That had been a sore spot in his marriage also. There had been times he'd given in and claimed a wrong he really didn't believe, just to have a little peace, but the peace didn't come till the gloating had finished. Oh, well.

He found Blair in the rec room after his shift. The younger man was sitting on the sofa, legs crossed under him like a kid. He had his glasses on, and was reading the paper again. Jim came up behind him and gently tugged his ponytail. Not looking around, Blair said, "If that isn't Ellison, I'm kicking your ass when I finish this article."

Jim came around and sat beside him. "What if it IS me?"

Still not looking up Blair reached over to the table beside him, picked up a plate holding several cookies, and handed it to Jim. "You forgot this when you ran away this afternoon."

*Okay, here it comes.* But Blair said nothing, continuing to read. Jim ate one cookie. If Blair
would continue his arguement, it might be easier to let him think he'd finally convinced him, rather than his having caved in. But all Blair did was turn a page. Jim took a breath. "I've been thinking about what we were talking about."

"You mean what *I* was talking about. YOU were dodging."

"Uh, yeah." He ate another cookie, stalling. Blair finally dropped the top half of the paper and looked at him. "I've thought about it." Silence. "I think it would be a good idea." He waited for the 'I told you so.'

What he got instead was a brilliant smile. "Thanks."

Bewildered, he said, "For what?"

"For not making me beg." Blair stole the last cookie off the saucer.

Jim's voice was low and intimate. "Well, I'd hate to waste perfectly good begging outside the bedroom. Speaking of which... Your place tonight?"

Blair grinned. "Do you think you can stand that long walk halfway across the platform after I get through with you?" Though they usually spent most of the night together in one or the other of their rooms, the visitor always tried to make it back to his own quarters before it was time to get up.

They were on the graveyard shift, which meant that they slept most of the day away. It was a little odd at first for Blair, going back to his own room in blazing daylight after a 'night' of hot sex, but he was perfectly willing to do it. He and Jim had been a little nervous about it at first because of the very sensible worry about how their fellow workers would react to their relationship. Just one hostile homophobe could make things uncomfortable, if not dangerous. But in a closed environment like the rig, it was very difficult to keep secrets for very long.

They were seen leaving each other's rooms a time or two, and it was impossible for them to disguise the increasing closeness when they were in public, so gradually the awareness spread. And, to their great relief, (and not a little surprise), no one seemed to think much about it. There were a few puzzled looks, but they were generally followed by shrugs. Luke told Blair that anything that kept not only the cook, but also the head tool pusher, happy was welcomed by the
men. Blair was a better cook than the man he had replaced, and Jim was a lot mellower these days. The crew members were all in favor of the match.

"That would be another advantage of getting the detective job," Jim mused. "We could have our own place. How does that sound, Chief? In a nice area, maybe with a balcony?"

"Sounds fine, big guy, but all I'm really worried about is the bed. Big and sturdy. We haven't done it anywhere but the bunks so far, and THEY'RE attatched to the wall. I'm almost afraid that we'll trash a real bed when we really get going."

Jim reached over and squeezed Blair's knee. "Let's go test yours again."

Blair stood. "I'm going, before I make us the scandal of the rig by kissing you stupid in public." He pointed at Jim. "If you lollygag around, I will start without you, and as horny as I am that could mean FINISHING without you, too."

Jim only waited long enough to watch Blair's butt swing out of the rec room door before he stood up, stretched with elaborate casualness, and strolled out. The two men left in the room, part of his crew, watched him saunter out, then listened as his footsteps sped up into a pounding run once he was out of sight. One looked at the other and said, "Think he'll catch him?"

His friend shrugged. "Dunno. That Sandburg is a fast little booger." He grinned. "Be interesting to see if Ellison DID catch him outside the room, though."

Part Two

Jim couldn't pour on his full speed in the confines of the corridors: even as coordinated as he was, he'd have ended up bouncing off walls at the turns. Still, he wasn't far behind his Guide. Blair's door was just swinging shut as he rounded the corner into his hall. He reached the door in about two heartbeats.

He threw the door open, to be confronted by an already half-naked Blair. Sandburg, shirtless and with his belt undone, one shoe already off, was bending to unlace the other. He looked up as Jim swept the door shut, and his eyes widened at the sight of the Sentinel looming there. Jim's eyes glittered, and he was smiling in a manner that was more than a little predatory. The chase always seemed to set off something primitive in him. It occured to Blair that bent over was perhaps NOT the safest position to be in right now. He started to stand up, and that's when Jim tackled him.

"DAMN good thing these bunks are built in*, Blair thought as he was thrown back on his mattress, with somewhere close to two hundred pounds of horny Sentinel on top of him. "Jim..." Luckily, what he was about to say was not of earth-shaking importance, because Jim took the open mouth as an invitation and promptly filled it with his tongue. *Okay, I can do this.*

They kissed and squirmed together, Jim somehow managing to shed his shirt in the process. He
straddled Blair's leg and started to hump against it, rubbing the bulge of his erection sensuously against the firm, denim-clad thigh. Meanwhile, his hands roamed over the lightly furred torso that was heaving beneath him, seeking out the thrusting nipples and the sensitive spots along his ribs.

Blair tore his mouth away from Jim's and gasped. "Boots! Get the boots off, man."

Jim lifted enough to look down at him with slightly irritated amusement. "They haven't bothered you before."

"For knee tremblers in the supply closet, fine. Fuckin' sexy, actually. But not in my own bed. Get
'em off."

Jim moved to sit on the side of the bed, grumbling. "Ruin a guy's momentum, why don't you?"

Blair stroked his back soothingly as he bent to begin unlacing the boots. "Don't want to ruin it, man, just slow it to a trot instead of a ball-bustin' gallop." Jim grunted, worrying at a knot that had somehow formed in his boot laces. "Tell you what, big guy. Why don't you just relax and let ME drive this time?" Jim froze, the muscles under Blair's hands tensing to the hardness of stone. "Jim?"

"No."

"Okay, if you're not up for it right now. I just thought you might like to lay back and be taken care of."

"You don't have to do that, Chief."

"Hell, I KNOW I don't HAVE to. I WANT to."

Jim continued to pick at the knot without looking up. "Sorry."

"Sorry. Sorry? Are you, like, not feeling well? You seemed healthy enough five seconds ago. Scary healthy."

"No, just let me get these boots off and I'll show you how healthy I am."

Blair was silent, watching as Jim managed to get one boot off and started on the other. A suspicion was rising in his mind, and he hoped he was just misinterpretting this. "Next time?"

Jim's face remained turned down, and his tone was far too casual. "Sure, next time."

"Jim, are you lying to me?"

Ellison sat up, a startled look on his face. "Blair, what's that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what it sounded like. Do you mean it when you say I can fuck you next time? Is it a promise?" No response. Blair's voice hardened slightly, "What? You're just saying it so you can go ahead and screw me? You're trying to get me off your back about... about... being ON your back?"

Jim sighed. "I, uh, don't do that, Blair."

"Jim, how long have you been gay?"

"All my life, I guess, but I didn't admit it till..."

"Okay, let's not get into that. How long have you been ACTIVE?"

"About twenty years."

"Do you mean to tell me that you've never been fucked in all that time?" Jim shook his head. "Oh, MAN!" Blair fell back on the pillow, giggling. "My fiance is a virgin."

Jim stood up, glaring down at the chuckling guide. "Sandburg, I should have given you ample proof by now that I am NOT a virgin, and I'm ready to prove it to you again."

Blair waved his protests away, still laughing. "Sorry, man, but you qualify. Your ass is unexplored territory, you're a virgin." He sat back up. "Now that I think about it, you haven't done ANY ass play since I've been with you. I haven't even gotten a finger up there, and it's such a BEAUTIFUL ass, too. I guess you've had me distracted."

"Yeah, well, don't worry. I'll keep you so distracted that you'll forget all about it."

Blair was shaking his head. "Not possible, Jim. That ass is unforgettable, especially now that I know for a fact no one else has ever had it."

"Well, I hate to disappoint you, Chief, but you might as well just put it out of your mind."

Blair's eyes narrowed. "Wait a minute. Are you talking about never? Not at all?"

"That's exactly what I'm talking about."

"I can understand you're being a little hesitant, if you've never done it before, but..."

"No. End of discussion, Chief."

Blair gaped at him. "Excuse me. Did you just make a PRONOUNCEMENT? No 'these are my reasons, what do you think?' or 'I might consider it if', just a flat 'this is how it is'?"

Hearing that, Jim realized that it had to sound selfish and arbitrary, but he didn't feel that he
could back down. "Blair, you knew when we got together that I'm a pitcher, not a catcher."

"Yeah. Practically the first thing you said to me was 'I top', I remember. I practically creamed my jeans. Don't get me wrong, Jim, I LOVE it when you top me. You can drive me out of my mind."

"Then I don't see what..."

"BUT... I want the chance to drive YOU out of YOUR mind, too."

"You do, babe, you do. It's just not something I like."

Now Blair raised his voice. "How the fuck do you KNOW? You've never done it."

"Look, I've never..."

"So help me, if you say something like 'I've never twisted my own nuts, but I know I wouldn't like it', I'll throw your ass out of this room!" Jim stopped, flushing. He wouldn't have chosen those exact words, but Sandburg had gotten the gist of what he was about to say. "Question for ya, Jim. If you think that getting fucked in the ass is such a distasteful or unpleasant thing, then why are you so keen to do it to me?"

"I... Blair, you enjoy it." Pause. "Don't you?"

"Oh, fuck. If you can't TELL..."

"Yeah, yeah. I can tell."

"Then you KNOW how good it can be. Jim, I just want to fuck you, not fuck you OVER. I love you, ya knothead, and I want to show it."

Blair had his arms folded across his chest, but Jim could see the still stiff points of his nipples, the ring glinting in the left one. He cleared his throat, feeling the pulse of blood in his crotch. "We can discuss this later, can't we?"

Blair's jaw clenched till he could feel a muscle twitch, but when he spoke, his voice was quiet.
"Sure, Jim. You just go on back to your room and let me know when you're ready."

Now it was Jim's turn to gape. "But I thought..." He trailed off, seeing the hard look in Blair's eyes. *Oh, shit. I've seen him pissed before, but he's ANGRY now.*

"Yeah, well, I thought I had an open, generous lover: a partner. I think we need to spend a little time apart, Jim. I'm really mad right now, and I might say something without giving it the proper thought."

"Blair..."

"We don't want to hurt each other, man, so just leave. Okay?"

Jim gathered up his shirt, pulling it on, then picked up his boot. "I'll see you at supper?"

"Probably. I have to eat."

"Okay."

Jim went out into the hall, closing the door softly behind him. Then he couldn't resist standing there a minute, listening. Both Sandburg's breathing and his heart rate were rapid and heavy, a clear sign of agitation, and they didn't slow just because Jim was out of the room. Jim leaned back against the wall dispiritedly. *I think we just had our first fight. Damn, it sucks.*

A crew member, on his way to the showers, passed Jim and gave him a curious glance. Sure, there was nothing unusual about passing a fellow employee in the halls, but one that was as flushed as Jim, one who had one boot on, and the other in his hand, THAT called for a bit of mental commentery.

Jim watched the man carrying a bottle of shampoo pass, then looked down at his still distened fly. "Crap." He glanced longingly at Blair's door, then started down the hall to the showers. One thing about being on the rig, there was never a shortage of cold water.

Blair threw himself back on his bed, fuming. *Of all the pig headed, stubborn, unreasonable... Our first fight, and it's about SEX. I thought that was at least one thing we could agree on. How did I miss this till now?*

As irritated as he was, Blair still smiled. Jim, a virgin. Whoa, THERE was a concept. Blair had lost count of the times they'd had sex in the few weeks that they'd been together. It had been a rich and varied round of love making, or so he'd thought. Now that he looked back on it, he saw the pattern.

Jim never put himself in the vulnerable position, at least when it came to anal sex. Oh, he was willing enought, hell, even ENTHUSIASTIC about swapping blow jobs, or sixty-nining. But if someone was getting fucked, it was always Blair. *Come to think of it, he doesn't do anything that could be considered by the remotest logic as submissive. That one time that I sat on him and rode him, he tried to roll me over onto my back at least four times, I remember it clearly. I thought he was just playful, and wanted to wrestle, but I guess that wasn't it. This will not do at ALL.*

If someone had pointed this out to Blair, he would have reacted defensively, immediately stating that what Jim did was just fine with him. But since he had brought it out, he realized that he hadn't so much chosen to be the 'passive' partner, as not been offered the choice.

That bothered him. Blair had seen too many relationships where one partner was the 'husband' and one was the 'wife', and he had no intention of falling into that trap. The thing was, he didn't think Jim was deliberately being selfish. He probably didn't even see it as an effort to control Blair, but most likely just saw it as controling himself. *I don't like the idea of anyone or anything controling my fate, he said. And he's had extended periods of his life where he was almost totally out of control, with his senses running wild. Okay, I can see how he ended up a control freak, but he has ME now. I'm here to help him get through without holding on so tight that he almost strangles himself. How am I going to make him see that he has to give in a little? If he doesn't, it will be as unfair to him as it would be to me. Think, Sandburg, think.*

He thought for almost an hour. Then he got up, put his shirt back on, and went in search of Simon. He found the older man layering potatoes and cheese in a huge baking pan. "Sandburg, what are you doing up? I figured you'd be under the covers by now." He grinned. "Or at least under Jim."

"There's a bit of a problem I can't elaborate on, Simon, but I'd like a little help and understanding
about it."

"Sure, kid. What can I do?"

"First off, you can tell me exactly what it is that you're fixing for supper."

Part Three

Blair didn't come to supper, so Jim was looking forward to seeing him at the midnight meal, hoping that by then he'd be over whatever foolishness had settled over him. On the way to the mess, he started sifting the aromas that were drifting down the hall, as he usually did. He always knew what was on the menu before he hit the room. It was some form of ground beef, and they'd had meat loaf for lunch. Oh, well.

It was, in fact, hamburger steaks, with cheesy-mashed potatos and green beans. The meat alternative was chicken hash. Again. Jim frowned as he waited his turn in line, examining the contents of the steam table. He heard a few grumbling mutters ahead and behind him, but things moves smoothly enough. The kid had been doing a good job so far, and the crew was willing to cut him some slack.

When it came Jim's turn to be served, Blair was back in the galley. Jim waited hopefully, but, though Blair returned to the serving line, he didn't come out to sit with Jim, as usual. He was irritable the rest of the shift, and the men walked softly around him. By the time eight am rolled around he was really looking forward to 'lunch' (breakfast, for the day crew), and seeing Blair again.

As he approached the mess, his steps slowed, and he sniffed speculatively, then groaned. "No, it isn't possible. This is *BREAKFAST."

He didn't need Sentinel hearing to detect the muttering when he got into the dining room. The line was moving fitfully. Each man seemed to feel obliged to have a few words with the cook. Blair was dishing up the food, and shrugging his shoulders, "What's your problem, guys? Lots of places serve different sorts of meats for breakfast, and you've got the eggs and toast and pastries, don't you?" Luke spooning up food *my God, POTATO pancakes* beside him looked distinctly
nervous.

"Blair, what the hell? Hamburger steak and chicken hash for BREAKFAST?"

"Don't you start. Just take your tray and move on."

"I need to talk to you."

"Go eat. I'm busy right now." Jim stood like a statue. Blair sighed. "Fine, I'll be out in a little
while, just quit blocking my serving line."

"I thought that maybe you'd want me to stand between you and the rest of the crew. They're a little pissed. This is hamburger and chicken hash three times in a row."

"Really? Move, will you?"

Jim reluctantly moved off and found a seat. He wouldn't have been able to enjoy his meal, even if he WASN'T already sick of it, because he was busy keeping an eye and an ear on the serving line. Some of the men graduated from muttering under their breaths to direct complaints. At one point a voice was raised and Jim tensed, because Blair wasn't backing down, but it didn't come to anything.

Blair finally came out with a cup of coffee, and was followed by less than affectionate looks as he made his way out to Jim. As he sat Jim said, "Blair, what's wrong with you?"

Blair stared at him blankly. "What's wrong? Is my color bad? Does my heartbeat sound off? Can you detect a rise in my body temperature?"

Jim's eyes narrowed, and he focused a little more sharply. "Your heart rate is up a little, and so's
your adrenaline level, but I think that's just because you're pissed about something."

"Gee, Jim. What do you suppose that could be?"

"Don't start."

"I'm not the one who brought it up, am I?"

"Are you still sulking because I didn't want to take turns?"

Blair gulped the rest of the coffee, and stood up. "Well, this conversation didn't last long. If you
really think that's all this is about, then there's no point in my staying here."

"Sandburg..."

Blair flipped him the bird as he walked away. Jim started up after him, then became aware of the number of eyes watching him and sat back down. Then he muttered, "Fuck it," got up, and went in pursuit anyway.

Blair wasn't running, but he could move very quickly for someone with such short legs. He'd almost reached his room when Jim caught him. Jim grabbed his shoulder and pushed him back against the wall in the hall outside his room. "Hold up, Darwin. I SAID we needed to talk."

He was surprised by the near violence in the way Blair twisted to get out of his hold. "I'm not your kid, and I'm not your bitch! I don't HAVE to stand still and let you talk at me, Ellison!" Once he was free of Jim's grip, though, he didn't run away. "But I'm going to listen because you're right about that. But we don't just need to talk, we need to COMMUNICATE. Say what you want to say."

"I don't get this. Everything was fine up till this afternoon. What went wrong?"

"Nothing went wrong, and everything WAS fine. But things change, Ellison. Every relationship changes, otherwise it stagnates. I'm ready to move on to a different level, and you're dragging your feet."

"I'm trying, Blair. We're getting married..." He paused, and his voice was anxious. "We ARE still
getting married, aren't we?"

"Yes, you idiot. You can be fucking infuriating, but I love you." Jim almost wilted in relief. "Christ, Jim, just because you get mad at someone, you don't stop loving them. You were pissed at me ignoring the wedding plans, but you didn't consider dropping me, did you?"

"Of course not."

"There ya go."

"If it isn't sex, what is it?"

Blair shook his head, sighing. "I just told you, Jim. I won't be your kid, or your bitch. I'm a grown man, and I expect to be treated as an equal, and a partner. That includes having a say in ALL parts of our life, not just deciding if we're having the ceremony on the beach or in a garden. You have to be willing to give up a little of the control, man. I'm not going to try to take you over and tell you what to do in every little corner of your life, but you're coming damn close to that with me. Agreeing to try the detective work was a step in the right direction. I didn't force you into that, no matter what your paranoid ego might have tried to tell you. You thought about it, and made an informed decision. Are you happy with it?"

Jim thought, and realized that he was. "Yes."

"So, I'm not saying that the sex thing is a mortal threat to what we have, but it's serious, and it's
symbolic of the deeper issue. I'm going to do something I haven't before, I wish I didn't have to do now, and I hope I never have to do again: I'm going to give you an ultimatum."

Jim swallowed. He didn't like the idea, but he realized that it was because it made him feel like the situation was out of his hands, and he knew that was part of the problem. "What is it?"

"I want a REAL wedding night, complete with a virgin spouse. I want to top on our wedding night."

Jim opened and closed his mouth several times. Blair waited patiently. Finally Jim said, "Can I think about this?"

"Of course. I'm not going anywhere, Jim. We're in the middle of the fucking North Sea, remember?" He gave his Sentinel a brief, but gentle kiss, and went into his room. Jim heard the lock engage.

Jim didn't get a lot of sleep that afternoon. He didn't even bother to go to lunch, because he could
smell the hamburger and chicken hash from halfway across the platform. He put a pillow over his head in an effort to muffle the increasingly hostile murmurings of the crew. *What the fuck is Simon thinking of? Aren't they speaking to each other?*

At supper, when the menu STILL hadn't changed, Simon was working the line alone: his helper was too nervous, and Jim didn't blame the young man. The crew was openly angry, but no one dared confront Simon directly. Half the food went into the trash. Jim sought out Simon when the assistant showed up to break down the steam table. "Banks, what the hell is going on? You're usually so careful about not being redundant with the menus."

Simon shrugged, his face impassive. "I wasn't feeling too hot, and Sandburg volunteered to do my prep work. I wasn't really pleased, but beggars can't be choosers, right? Anyway, it's tasty, nutritious, and filling. The guys are getting all the vitamins and minerals they need."

"But the monotony is driving everyone crazy!" Simon shrugged again.

Jim went to work that evening with trepidation. He usually looked forward to the mid-shift meal break at twelve, now he almost dreaded it. Sure enough, he could smell the now almost sickeningly familiar aromas of hamburger steak and chicken hash as he started to the mess.

He walked in on rebellion. There wasn't a line, there was a mob, and they were all pissed. Luke was white faced, and Blair was grim. He gripped a metal serving spoon in one white knuckled fist, and Jim almost wished it was a cleaver. He didn't think that his lover realized how close he was to being tossed over the side of the platform.

Jim bullied his way to the front of the mob, shoving men aside ruthlessly. They fell silent. It was a well known fact that Jim Ellison, though quiet, was the baddest of the bad asses on the rig, and no one wanted to mess with him. Jim glared at the men, grabbed up a tray, and presented it to Blair. They locked eyes for a moment, then Blair filled his plate, and Jim moved to sit down. He didn't start eating immediately, but stared at the next man in line until he, too, picked up a tray and presented it. Soon the line was moving with only a little hesitation.

When it had thinned out, Jim went back to the steam table and said quietly, "Can we try that conversation again?" Blair silently led him back into the kitchen while Luke started to break down the line.

In the galley they sat at the table. Neither spoke for a moment, then Jim said softly, "Chief, you DO realize that there was actual danger out there, don't you? Simon told you about them heaving the last cook over the side?" He nodded. "Then why? You're not stupid, you have to be doing this on purpose."

"Doing what?"

Jim slapped the table with a sound like a gunshot, and Blair winced. "JESUS, Blair! Don't play with me, all right? I was worried about you out there."

"I don't see what the problem is, Jim. I'm providing them with exactly what I'm contracted to provide: two hot, nourishing meals. I'm taking care of their needs."

"But Blair, what about their WANTS? That's basically the same meal SIX times in a row. It's enough to drive a man crazy. No matter JOW good something is, no one wants it over and over and over..." He trailed off. Blair was nodding. "Comes the dawn. You sneaky little bastard."

"Did it get the point across?"

"It did. You almost got yourself an icewater bath, but it did."

"So?"

Jim stared at him. *Would it be so bad? I mean, this is BLAIR. This is the sweetest, sexiest, most loving creature, male or female, I've ever known, and he wants a chance to take care of my pleasure as well as my needs.* Jim's voice was low. "Yes, Blair." Blair closed his eyes briefly, and Jim continued, "And don't start thinking you forced me into this. It was a decision, like the career choice. I just looked at both sides."

Blair stood up and put his arms around Jim's neck, embracing him. "Thank you, man. For not making me beg."

Jim embraced him back. When Blair went to kiss him, though, he pulled back. "Uh-uh. We'd better not start something we can't finish."

"What do you mean, can't finish?"

"You said you wanted a virgin spouse on your wedding night. Well, I'm hereby chaste until after the ceremony."

Sandburg pulled back, eyes big and not a little dismayed. "Jim, that's over a week away."

"I know." He got up and headed toward the door. "Rough, isn't it?" He grinned. "I figure by the time we finally do it, you'll be ready to REALLY give me a night to remember." He heard Blair groan as he left the room.

There was a plethora of pork products and various breakfast items at the next meal, but not a scrap of ground meat or chicken. The men who had been searching for feather pillows and discussing whether or not glue could be substituted for tar stuffed themselves and promptly forgot about it.

Part Four

The ceremony took place in a tiny, fairy tale pretty garden, complete with swan graced pond. The two dozen or so guests were seated on benches ranged across a postage stamp sized bit of lush grass, and the couple came from opposite sides to meet under an arch that was festooned with tropical flowers.

Jim wore a traditional tuxedo. Blair was in a cream colored linen suit with a shirt that almost matched the smoky blue of his eyes, his hair tamed back into a long tail. More than one of the Wedding Service's female staff had muttered that the only thing they disliked about these sort of ceremonies was that it usually took TWO good looking men out of circulation.

The non-denominational minister met them under the arch, and addressed the assembly. "What is marriage? In it's most practical and shallow sense it is a legal contract. We gathered here know that a true marriage is much more than the piece of paper that is filed in a government folder, much more than cohabitation and shared medical insurance." There was a titter from the crowd. "Marriage in its purest form is the bonding of two souls, the mingling of two lives, the joining of two hearts, and outward, fleshy appearance is trivial compaired to these. Sadly, our society has
not advanced to a stage where it can acknowledge this deeper reality. They refuse to sanction a bonding unless it adheres to the rigid concept it clings to."

She looked at the couple standing before her, and smiled gently. She saw a lot of couples like this, some women, some men. She was realistic enough to know that not all of them would last for many years past the joining ceremony. The world was often harsh to those who chose to love outside the accepted way. But she looked at the warmth, strength, and love shining from both these handsome faces, and had the feeling that these two were going to make it. "Jim and Blair have written their own vows. Jim?"

Jim gazed at his chosen life mate. "I've been alone most of my life. I thought I had known love, and I still felt alone. I'd resigned myself. Then you came into my life. For the first time, I could wake up in a world where there was someone who's first thought would be of me. You're my heart, my soul, and my reason for breathing. I love you. Blair Jacob Sandburg. I will protect you and care for you till the day I die, and I will love you beyond that. I will never consiously hurt you, I will fight my pig headed nature to be sure that you never feel belittled or controled, and I will do my damndest to make sure you always know how much you mean to me."

Blair took a breath. "People have passed in and out of my life. Some have left gaps, but it was never anything I couldn't handle. I didn't know that there was an empty place in my life until you came along, stepped in, and filled it. If I lost you now, the hole it would leave in my heart would consume me. You're my strength, and my conscience. You've helped me see ways I can make my life mean something, and that is by helping you be all that you can. Without you, I would be half a man. James Joseph Ellison, I love you, and want to spend whatever time I have left on this earth by your side, and then I want to follow you into the next world. I will care for you, and do my best to show you the way to be what you were meant to be."

The minister handed each of the men a plain gold ring. "Place the rings on the third finger of the left hand." They did: first Jim, then Blair putting the rings on each other. "Hold hands." She addressed the gathered guests. "Jim and Blair have decided to speak the words of joining together, symbolizing their determination to make this a marriage of equals. Jim, Blair, repeat after me, substituting the proper names in the appropriate places. I..."

"I, Jim/Blair..." they chorused.

"Do take you..."

"Do take you, Blair/Jim."

"As my lawfully wedded husband."

"As my lawfully wedded husband."

"Proclaiming our union in the eyes of man and God..."

"Proclaiming our union..."

*

Jim found himself staring at the slice of cake that Blair was holding up to him. He'd been expecting the ususal fluffy white pastry. This looked dense, darker than it should be, and chock full of (sniff) citron? But the guests were watching, and Blair was beaming at him, so he opened his mouth and took a cautious nibble. Not bad. He took the remainder of the slice from Blair's hand and offered it to his groom. Grinning, Sandburg took a huge bite, and the guests applauded, then started on the reception goodies.

"Fruitcake?"

"It's the traditional English wedding cake, Jim, coated with almond paste before frosting. Rafe outdid himself." Blair admired the three tiered pastry. Instead of the usual phantasmagorical confection of swirls, swags, loops, shells, and flowers of icing, it was decorated with fresh orchid blossoms: a simple, yet beautifully dignified scheme. At present it was being disassembled by Rafe and Simon.

"Tell me again why we don't get to eat the top layer."

"We save it, to eat on our first anniversery. That was one reason why they did these heavier, more
substanial cakes instead of, like, sponge. It was more likely to survive without refrigeration. Plus it was less likely to collapse under it's own weight."

"And the couples weren't as tempted to sneak it as a snack before the year was up. Trust you to give me a historical lecture on our wedding day, Darwin," Jim teased.

It was a good thing that they'd opted to have the wedding and reception taped, because Jim couldn't remember too much of it afterwards: just images and sense flashes. The deep, dark boom of Simon's laughter. The crackle of the crisp brown skin as the pit roasted pig was carved. The jumble of colognes splashed on by the assembled guests. The multicolored glitter of the sun setting over the ruffled sea. The grit of the sand under his feet (shoes had been discarded early in the celebration). The silky caress of an auburn curl, blown against his cheek as he danced with Blair for the first time.

If Blair hadn't been beside him, anchoring him with his familiar heartbeat and soothing voice, Jim would have zoned a half dozen times. But the ironic thing was that, while it was Sandburg who kept him grounded with the world, this time it was him who was mainly responsible for the perilous passage close to the edge. Jim was more aware of his Guide than he'd ever been of another human being, and it was driving him slowly crazy.

The first time he'd almost zoned had been when Blair walked out to meet him before the minister. The pheromones hit Jim while the smaller man was still on the other side of the garden, and by the time they'd walked to the arched trellis, he was fervently hoping that his trousers were baggy enough to conceal his erection. Blair wasn't the only one who'd been suffering from horniness in the week of enforced celebacy. Jim had been tempted to throw him down in the aisle in front of God, the guests, and everybody. The hard-on still hadn't gone away. How could it with Blair so close? *Is this what it's going to be like? Am I going to go through my married life with a perpetual boner?* He thought about it. *There are worse fates.*

After what seemed like several eternities it was time to leave for the hotel. Even though it was only a few blocks away, they had the traditional limousine waiting, and it had been decorated in the traditional manner by the guests. Steel toed workboots and institutional sized tin cans clanging and rattling behind them made it assured that the car's passage was noted by amused tourists.

Some of the decorations were a bit less traditional. Blair howled when he saw the drift of condoms strewn over the back seat. He held Jim's arm tightly, leaning his forehead on the big man's shoulder as he shook with laughter. "I guess they want to be sure we don't get each other pregnant."

"What are we supposed to do with these?"

"Well, Jim, you see, you open it, and you take the little flat circle and put it against your cock head, then you carefully..."

Jim shut him up with a kiss that left him breathless. When they pulled apart he stroked his thumb over one flushed cheek and said, "I guess they'll come in handy till the blood test results come in." Blair, for once quiet, nodded and laid his head on Jim's shoulder again. They'd discussed this, also. Both had gotten a full blood workup when they arrived at the island, but it would be several weeks before they had the results. Though both were confident that there would be no problem, there would be no unprotected anal sex till thier health was confirmed.

Between the two of them they managed to stuff all the little packages in their pockets. Well, hopefully all of them. The next passengers might get a bonus if the attendants weren't careful when they cleaned it. As they worked, Blair said, "At least they won't have to vacuum rice out of here. I'm glad we decided on the bubblewands instead."

"Are you kidding?" Jim tugged at his ponytail. "Would we EVER have gotten all the grains out of this?"

Blair quickly ruffled his short hair, then smoothed it back into place with one pass of his hand. "Not something you have to worry about, huh, old man?"

Jim dragged him onto his lap. "Old man?" He pushed up against Blair's rump. "Feel anything old here, kid?"

"Um... gentlemen? We're here." They noticed that the limo had stopped moving. The driver accepted a generous tip and drove off, smiling as he shook his head. He still wasn't quite used to chaufferring same sex couples, but those two were as happy as any newlyweds he'd ever seen.

They had checked in, seperately, when they arrived, reserving a honeymoon suite for the rest of their stay after the ceremony. All they had to do was claim the key at the desk and go up to the room.

As Blair unlocked the door, Jim reflected that their wedding day had gone more smoothly than either of them had a right to respect. There hadn't been a single disaster, not even a minor hitch. It was almost enough to worry him. He hoped that Fate wasn't saving up to cream them on the wedding NIGHT.

The shoes they'd put on for the trip to the hotel were shed at the door. "Have I told you how sexy you look barefooted?" Jim asked.

"No, that's a new one."

"Consider it said."

"Barefoot is fine, as long as it's not too cold. I just hope you don't have your heart set on the
pregnant part. Look! The hotel sent us champagne." Jim watched as Blair opened the bottle, his strong, square hands easing the cork from the neck with a muted pop. "God, I LOVE complimentary stuff! Check the pillows and see if they left us chocolates."

Jim looked. "Nope."

"Damn. Oh, well, that's all right." He handed Jim a full glass, smiling. "I'll have something sweet on them in a little while, anyway." Jim found that, at his age, he could still blush. "So, we need a toast." He lifted his own glass and said quietly. "To the bond."

They touched glasses, Jim repeating the words, and drank. Then Jim said, "To this night."

Blair's smile didn't fade, but it softened. "Are you sure about this, Jim? I really want it, but I'm
starting to feel like a little bit of a bastard, insisting."

Jim took his glass and set them both aside. "No, Chief. I've done a lot of thinking about this.
You're right, you know. It isn't really pain I've been worried about, it's been the... the turning
loose. There's been so much of my life that's just been almost chaotic. When I have control, I tend to keep a stranglehold on it." He laid a hand lightly on Blair's chest. "If that hold is going to choke what we have together, I WANT to let go. I never trusted anyone else enough to let them inside me, but I know that, as long as you're there to catch me, I can let go."

Blair put his arms around his Sentinel and kissed him softly. "I'm here, Jim. I'll always be here."

Jim returned the embrace. "Make love to me, Sandburg."

They undressed each other slowly. Every bared inch of skin was explored and savored. Their first joining had been an explosion of sensation: this would be a feast. Blair directed Jim to lie on his back, and he stretched out. For a long moment Blair just stood, looking at him, till Jim held out his hand silently, and his lover and husband joined him on the bed.

Blair draped his body over Jim's and started kissing him again. It was familiar, but somehow it was new, too. Jim was experiencing it as the accepting, rather than the giving, partner this time. *Is this how it is for Blair? The anticipation is as erotic as the actions: waiting to see what he'll do next.*

What he did was drive Jim crazy. His hands and mouth wandered... No, wandered was too pointless a term. Blair DEFINITELY had an agenda. Jim's nipples were teased into aching points. Every swipe of his tongue, every gentle scrape and nip, sent hot sparks through his body.

Blair moved down Jim's torso, lavishing attention on his belly, making the flat plane heave. When Jim felt the hot breath on the base of his penis he gasped, "Blair, if you don't pull up this will be over before it gets started."

For a moment Blair rested his chin on Jim's belly, gazing slyly up the length of his body. "Lover, you don't think you're gonna get away with just ONCE tonight, do ya?"

"Blair..."

"Babe, you're wound up as tight as a clock spring used to be before we went over to digital. I want you relaxed, so I'm going to take the edge off for you. Just lay back and enjoy." He ran his hand along the length of Jim's shaft, shifting the soft skin over the solid core.

"But you..."

"Don't worry about me. I'm enjoying the hell out of this, and I'm going to get MINE, you can be sure of that. But this first one is just for you."

Jim sighed as Blair licked him from root to tip, then took the head into his mouth and began suckling. After a moment he let go and murmured, "It's times like this I wish I had your senses, Jim. I can only imagine what you'd taste like if I could dial my senses up, but you still taste pretty fucking good to this mere mortal." Blair took him in his mouth again, sinking down slowly, and began to suck him off. Jim watched the dark, curly head bobbing smoothly up and down on his shaft, and marveled at his good fortune. He would have considered himself lucky to have even a
few nights with someone like Blair, and now he was going to spend his entire life with him.

Normally, Blair would have tried to draw it out, teasing Jim along. But this time the long, slow
loving was going to be of a different sort. While the blow job was a sincere gesture of love, it was NOT the main event. He had learned the sort of things that Jim loved, and he used them all, bringing his lover to a quick, shuddering orgasm. While Jim's deep breathing smoothed out, Blair gave his softening cock a kiss and whispered. "You have plenty left. By the time you're ready to go, you'll be..." he chuckled. "ready to go."

As Blair reached into the bedside drawer for the lubricant he said, "Turn over, love." When Jim rolled up onto his hands and knees, Blair said, "No, Jim, on your belly. That will be easiest for your first time. You won't have to worry about supporting yourself when your knees get weak."

Jim lay back down, tucking a pillow comfortably under his chin and upper body. "You planning on getting me weak in the knees?"

"Oh, yes." Jim watched, feeling only the tiniest tickle of nervousness, as Blair warmed some of the clear gel in his palm, then coated his fingers. "Spread your legs." He made a conscious effort to relax as he felt Blair's hands on his ass. He'd experienced only the briefest touches there. He'd
never been comfortable with his partners playing with his ass, knowing that it might lead them to expect more than he was willing to give. This time, though, was different.

He was a little startled when he felt Blair's lips against his right cheek. To cover his nervousness he joked, "Chief, you don't HAVE to kiss my butt: I SAID you could fuck me."

Blair was massaging firmly. "You remember the first time we were together, Jim?"

"Lord, babe, that's not something I'm likely to forget."

"We weren't so well equiped that time, but you found a way. Well, turn about's fair play." He spread Jim's cheeks apart and bent down, running his tongue the length of his crease.

Jim gasped. "Blair, you don't have to do that."

"Do you want me to stop?"

"Fuck no."

"Then shut up and let a man work." Jim moaned as the soft, wet touch circled the pucker of his asshole. Blair spent a long time, patiently licking, till he felt the tight ring of muscle soften a little. Then he put his tongue right at the center and pushed firmly.

Jim gasped his name as his Guide's tongue slid into him. "Oh, damn. If this is what it feels like to
have something in my ass, what the FUCK was I thinking of, waiting so long?"

Blair laughed. "This is just the start, lover. Hang on." Jim did, clutching the pillow as Blair moved his tongue in and out of his hole, probing deeper and deeper, tongue fucking him. Unable to stay still, he started pushing back at him. He grumbled when the wiggling intruder was withdrawn, but the grumbling faded to a pleased whimper as the first greased finger slid up inside him. When it was firmly lodged Blair said, "You okay, babe?"

"Gimme a minute."

"Sure."

They both stayed very still. Blair relished the tight, clinging heat of Jim's back passage. *I knew
it would be good, but I think it's going to be incredible*, he thought. *He's so fucking TIGHT.
I'll have to be extra carefull. I want his first time to be so good that he looks forward to the next time. I'm not going to give up him fucking me, but I'm sure as hell gonna want this on a regular basis.*

"It aches a little, but it doesn't hurt like I thought it would," Jim's voice was puzzled, but pleased. "Go on, Chief." Blair began to pump the finger in and out slowly, twisting it now and then. He had his other hand on Jim's back, and he could feel the tension easing out. When he judged it was time he added a second finger. Jim's breathing deepened a little, and he spread his legs a fraction wider, giving his lover better access.

Then Blair touched something deep inside of him and he jerked at the burst of hot pleasure. "DAMN! What was that?"

"Hey, relax. It was just your lil' love bump. You've done it often enough for me, you should know. You've had prostate exams, haven't you?"

"I was in the Army, Blair, what do you THINK? This is a hell of a lot different from a bored medic with a rubber glove."

"I should hope so."

"Do it again."

"Terrific. Back seat driver," he joked. Blair pushed, searching, and located the spongy knob,
rubbing it lovingly. Soon Jim was moving his hips, rubbing himself against the sheets. Blair reached under with his free hand and found Jim's cock. It was hard again, the head slick with fluid. "See? I told you."

"Blair, when you fuck me, is your cock going to rub over my prostate?"

"Yeah, at least part of the time. As much as I can manage it."

"Then would you go ahead and put it in me?"

Blair snickered. "Oo, gotta love an eager virgin. Hang on, Jim. One more finger."

"Hurry."

"Jim, we have, like, the next four or five decades."

"I do not intend to wait that long to come, Sandburg. Oh, man." He moaned as the third finger squeezed in beside the first.

"Almost there." Blair twisted and pushed with the bunched fingers, listening to the increasingly
desperate sounds Jim was making. He was as eager as his lover, but was determined to be just as careful and gentle as Jim had been with him. Finally he felt he was loosened enough, and pulled out. He quickly and efficiently opened the condom and put it on, then lay on top of Jim, bracing up on his knees and one hand so he could reach down to position himself.

Jim felt the difference of this next touch. It was broader, and hotter. There was the slick, artificial
feel of latex instead of skin, and what part of his brain was still functioning longed for the day he'd feel Blair's cock enter him bare, but for now, this was DEFINITELY good enough. Jim breathed deeply as the thick, hot shaft slowly slid into him. It seemed to go on forever. When it passed over his prostate, he gave a small cry and bucked, taking in even more. Blair quickly held down his hips, scolding, "Not yet, man! I know it feels good, but it can be so much better. Wait..." He sank in the last few inches to the tune of Jim's low whimper. "Oh, Jim," he breathed. Finally, he was all the way in, his balls settled against the other man's, his pubic hair flattening against the taut cheeks beneath him. He let his weight drop and there wasn't even a grunt from
the other man. Then he just lay there for a moment. "God, Jim. I think I'm zoning."

"Don't you dare, Blair," Jim growled. "You said you were going to fuck me. You are, if I have to fuck MYSELF on your cock."

"Mmm, not necessary, big guy." Blair moved his hips lazily, and Jim whined with pleasure. He started a slow, steady pace, fucking Jim gently, but thoroughly, plumbing his depths with each stroke. He would draw back till only his cock head was still encased in the heated flesh, then slide back in as slowly as he could.

Jim wasn't zoning, but only because he was so focused on Blair. Before, when he had himself been buried in his Guide, he'd felt the sweet pulse of his heartbeat all around him, but now it was INSIDE him. He could feel it beating in his very core. Jim braced his forearem on the mattress and began to push his ass up to meet Blair's strokes, rubbing his hard-on against the sheets at the same time.

"Yes, baby," Blair whispered. "We're ready." He sped up, making his thrusts stronger. "Give it to me, Jim."

Jim gave. He surrendered any control he might have retained, turning himself over fully to the man he loved, at least for this little while. He wasn't afraid any more because he knew that Blair didn't want to KEEP control. He wouldn't try to manipulate Jim, or make his decisions. He just wanted, for this space of time, to be the one who took care of his needs and brought him pleasure.

At first, Jim was a little unsure, a little hesitant. But Blair's happy grunts and murmured endearments reassured him. Soon they were moving together fluidly. Blair held Jim's hip with one hand. With the other he reached under to stroke his lover's throbbing, weeping cock. Blair's thrusts became shorter and sharper, scraping over Jim's prostate with each lunge, till the big man was sobbing in ecstasy.

When he felt Blair's teeth on the nape of his neck in a gentle bite, Jim came, bucking and shivering. Blair growled in triumph himself as he felt the scalding fluid pour over his fingers. The narrow channel he was buried in clenched, untrained, but strong, muscles rippling along the length of his cock, milking it. Two more strokes and he came himself, toes curling and head thrown back as he filled the rubber.

Then he dropped back down on to Jim, down onto the warm, heaving plane of his back, and just lay there. After a minute, he chuckled. "Jim, are you trying to squeeze me?"

"Is it working?"

"Yeah, it is. But you're not getting anything else for at least an hour or so." Blair pulled out of him carefully. He tied off the condom, wrapped it in tissue, then got up.

"Where are you going?"

Blair kissed his damp shoulder blade. "Clean up. Back in a flash."

He went to the bathroom. Jim remained where he was, feeling boneless, while he heard the toilet flush, then water running. His eyes were closed, but he clearly heard the pad of Blair's feet as he returned. Then the mattress dipped, and he felt his ass cheeks spread again. This time a warm, wet towel stroked his crack, cleaning him tenderly. Then Blair squeezed one cheek. "Roll over. I have a towel for the wet spot."

Jim rolled onto his back. "Shit, I didn't think about that."

"Well, we were both sort of preoccupied, but this will do till they change the sheets tomorrow." Blair spread the towel over the stain, then used the wet washcloth to wipe away Jim's sperm, cleaning the Sentinel's belly, thighs, and crotch. Finally, he put aside the rag and snuggled down in Jim's arms. "You do know that is NOT standard service? It's gonna be your turn now and then, even if I DO think it's fun."

Jim kissed the top of his head. "Looking forward to it, Chief. As a matter of fact, I plan to get your ass in that big bathtub I saw in there earlier for some good, clean fun. I've been aching to bathe you since the first time I saw you in the showers but it has always been just a TAD too public."

Blair snorted. "Yeah, we'd either hand out heartattacks, or make a mint selling tickets." They
were quiet for awhile, then Blair said quietly, "Jim, I know this was all right. I mean, I had definite physical proof. But... was it ALL RIGHT? I just need to be sure you don't resent having to give it up."

Jim hugged him tighter. "I didn't HAVE to give it up, Chief: I chose to. And besides," he kissed Blair softly: forehead, eyelids, nose, cheeks, the lightly bristled planes of jaw and chin, and finally, his lips. After a long moment he pulled away and sighed. "look at all that I got in return."

the end