By Bluesky
Email: Desidera21@aol.com
Fandom The Sentinel
Pairing Jim/Blair
Rating PG
Warnings none.
Ok to Archive at WWOMB or Open Air Insanity. Rest ask.
Disclaimer The Sentinel is of Pet fly. Jim and Blair are not mine. No Profit Made wth this work.
Summary: Blair makes nice to Jim, after he comes home to find the loft a mess.
Healing Touch
by Bluesky
"It was the Best of times, It was the worst of times........Blair paused in his typing, No this was not the right way to start. He would have to go back and fix it, it just helped him to leave in his first drafts things that inspired him...
"SANDBURG!" A roar filled the loft. SHIT. Jim was home early! He had meant to clean up the loft, pick up his socks.. Three days work of socks, And underwear. And jeans, It had been raining and he had just come home and shed his soaked clothing at the door. For the last 3 days. I mean he was just going to take it to the laundry any way, why bother dragging them to the hamper?
He leaped from his chair, not bother to shut down his laptop, knowing that he had to appease Jim before he escalated into a more than 3 hr Tirade. This was so not cool.
"Hi Jim!? "Blair was flushed Man he had so screwed up.
"I can't believe that you live this way! I was gone for two days! How could it get this bad in just tow days!"
"Man!" I am Like so sorry Jim, I was going to have this all cleaned up. I just had this paper due, and have been playing ketchup at the U, things just got away from me. You weren't due back till Sunday! I was going to have this place sparkling, Honest!"
Jim tossed an excerpted filled look at his guide. "I have a headache. I have had a hell of a 3 days, and I was not going to put up with it one more day. Pompous silly panels talking about sensitivity, and half of them could not be bothered to use deodorant..... And the ones that did used this heavy perfume shit that smelled worse than a gym."
Jim stopped at the rapid change on Blair's face from contrite to concern. "Have you been zoning?"
"Yea, once today. A two hour talk. Had to take some crap about falling asleep with my eyes open. Sad thing is that was the only talk that I wanted to be at." Jim swiped wearily at his face. I need to lie down. Just have this cleaned up by the time I get up? OK?"
Jim made the trip up the stairs, each step a Herculean effort. All that he could think of on the trip home was getting back to his warm safe place, enwrap himself in the calm order the place that was all his.
And Blair. He had held onto the thought of his guide for the last 4 Hours IT had been the only thing that had held him together in the long drive home. Pride kept him from telling Blair about the near zones, the time that the only thing that had brought him out was some one honking his horn at him as he drifted in the wrong lane. He shuddered quietly. That was too close. He should have never gone with our Blair. Jim centered on his annoying comforting guide’s heart beat, as he bustled around the loft, picking up moving tossing, taking out the trash, running the disposal, tossing things onto his bed, He relaxed as Blair went about his tasks. Now if his head would just stop hurting.
*************
"Jim? You awake?" Blair's voice was sentinel soft, spoken from the foot of the steps.
"I am now Sandburg." Pause. "What do you want?"
"I made you some tea that might help with the headache, and I was wondering if you would like to have me try some Cranial Sacral Therapy?"
"What did some one you were dating show you some new moves that you want to try on me?"
"As a matter of fact, I did have a bit of a refresher, but I did take some training when I traveled with my mom. I studied under a great teacher, man, this is that was practiced for thousand of years in many places! Just let me try and see if I can help. I would rather you not take any drugs if you have been zoning out."
"Fine. Just make it better." He flopped onto his belly, regretting the abrupt move instantly, moaning.
"Oh, Jim? It would be better if you were on your back, and had hour head at the end of the bed."
With a sigh Jim repositioned himself, and gave him self up as he always did to the hands of his guide.
This was not like any massage that he that he had ever had. Blair was just touching him, pressing, stroking some times, but he could feel changes, the fluids moving in his head, minute changes, his ears popped at one point, and a nagging pain that he had been dialing down in his shoulder for MT released
at long last.
Jim sighed at the freedom. And relaxed into the intimate touching. It was not sensual. It was knowing. Sure deft fingers danced over his skin, pressing cupping, kneading, knowing. It was the safest that he had felt in a long time.
At some point he was eased over on to his back, and Blair had changed his position from kneeling on the floor to work on him to kneeling over his hips, still working his way down his back, shoulders, touching stroking, kneading, the touch changing from pin point accuracy to long involved flowing, of moving the flesh, lifting it away from him and giving it back revitalized and new. It was all that he could do to keep from crying at some point, as a flood gate of emotions opened, released from a place some were near his
lumbar.
Still the hands moved. With a thoroughness that had him wondering why Blair was wasting his time with school, when he could be doing this full time, preferable to him, he moved down and past his boxers, working through the thin cotton, kneading the gluteus, pressing on a spot that sent a Moment of shock of pain then release.
Blair must have noticed the stiffing. "That is a Sciatica nerve trigger point. It felt blocked. Sorry if it hurt. "
"It's OK Chief. Just keep doing what you are doing. It is helping a lot." In fact the headache was a long ago memory at this point. But the shear indulgence of being touched was a rare treat.
Blair worked his way down his legs, digging in gently, unwinding the tight too tight ligaments and joints, stretching and melting flesh that had been cast in stone such a short time ago.
Feet. Who would have thought that feet could be so good to have rubbed?
If every thing that Blair had been doing before this had be great, this was Nirvana. His strong hand worked over his feet, stretching and gently tugging each toe, massaging the joints, doing things that Jim did not have words for to the sole of his feet. The stoic sentinel had been more or less quiet the whole
time, but the hands moving on the instep, knuckling and pressing, doing minute pressing and searching. He felt like he was being unzipped, that the too tight shell that he had been shoved into was at last being shed, leaving it behind, hard loathed and unwanted, discarded like a locus shell.
At some point he was rolled onto his back, and the hands made themselves at home on his body, knowing his flesh, healing touch, moving in slow even strokes, circling along his thighs, pressing on his hips, a soft pop as a joint realigned its self, relaxing into a comforting warm glow. True sleep taking over him, his last waking memory of Blair stroking his ears, rubbing the lobe between his thumb and forefinger..
Blair draped the quilt over his sleeping sentinel, and with a long last lingering look, crept away.
end