Title: The Pout

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: This is for Daenea, who, I suspect, has a corner on the pout market as well. . .

Summary: Blair's got a 'hidden' talent, which isn't quite as hidden as he thought.

Warnings: Explicit slash (m/m) content.

"The Pout"

by Mona Ramsey

Blair shrugged out of his coat and sat gloomily down on the couch. "Bad news, big guy," he said,

leaning back. "I couldn't get Carole to cover my class on Friday, so we can't leave for the mountains until after five."

Jim looked at him sympathetically.

"All the times I've covered for her, and this time, she blows me off! I can't believe it."

/You should have tried the pout,/ Jim thought to himself, with a little smile.

"I what?" Blair said, looking at him.

"What what?" Jim asked, suddenly realizing that thought might not have been quite as internal as

he'd intended.

"You said something about 'the pout'," Blair said, sitting up. "'I should have tried the pout.' What does that mean, exactly?"

"Well, Chief, um - I - uh - " Jim started, then decided to cut his losses. "Hungry?" he asked, getting up off the couch and making for the kitchen.

"No, no, no," Blair said, grinning evilly at him, and following him into the kitchen. "I want to know what you meant by that, and you are going to tell me."

"Well, Sandburg, you do have a way of getting what you want, you know. The puppy-dog eyes, the pleading, the pout. I just thought that you could have tried one of those. For an especially hard case, maybe even break out two of them."

Blair was standing, trying to look stern, but couldn't quite manage it. "I *do not* do that!" he said, trying to mask his grin.

"Blair, you know I love you, but get a grip, okay?" Jim was rummaging through the fridge. "You have more cute faces than the average one-year-old, and you use them to get whatever you want."

Blair shook his head. "I can't believe I'm busted and you never told me."

Jim laughed at him. "I can't believe you didn't know that I knew. I just assumed that you knew I liked it - *when* it's directed at me."

"And what does that mean?"

"Well, you've been a little indiscriminate with the pout, lately, you know."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Jim handed him a beer, and leaned back against the counter. "There was the time last week in

forensics, when you were trying to get Valerie to put a rush on those test results, three days ago you used it on Officer Stevens to get you a file, and yesterday in Simon's office - "

"I have *never* pouted at Simon!"

Jim laughed. "You probably didn't mean to, Chief, but you did it. I was a little surprised myself,

but it worked, so I just let it go. And those are just the ones that I know about. I have no idea

how much you're using it at school. Didn't you know you were doing it?"

Blair shook his head, and hopped up on the counter. "Oh, man! Simon?" he groaned. "I can't believe I used it on *Simon*."

"Well, it worked - but I wouldn't suggest trying it again. He might not be so lenient on that cute lower lip the next time, and I'd hate for anything to happen to it. I'm rather attached to it."

"Oh, yeah?" Blair jutted it out, just a little, and got the desired response - a nibble, which quickly turned into a kiss.

"Mmm," Jim moaned, pulling away. "*Very* attached to it. And to the pouter that it's attached to." He tried to disentangle himself from Blair, but he found that Blair had snaked his leg around his, and they were firmly pressed together.

Blair slid his arms around Jim's neck. "So, do you have any suggestions to help me stop? A

codeword, maybe? A special look? Just to let me know when I'm using when I shouldn't be."

"Maybe I should just kiss you, to take your mind off it."

"Oh," Blair breathed, running his hands up under Jim's shirt. "That sounds like a great idea. It

might not be so great at work - "

"It would definitely shake things up."

"That it would," Blair agreed. "Of course, when you kiss me like you just did, it gives me other ideas. I'd hate to have to shove you down on your desk in front of all your colleagues and ravage

you right there."

"That would *not* be a good idea."

"Uh-unh," Blair said, nibbling on his neck. "When they got a look at this body, I'd be shoved out of the way so fast - "

"Never, Chief. I'd protect you."

"My hero."

He lifted Blair bodily off the counter, and shifted him into his arms. "Every good hero needs a reward."

"Did you have anything in mind?"

Jim made a show of thinking it over. "Hmm, well, you could start off with showing me that pout,

again, just to make sure I've got it memorized."

He watched, breath held in, as Blair carefully licked his lips, then sucked the lower lip in with his bottom teeth, chewing on it a little to make it just the slightest bit red and swollen, then gave a tiny little pout, adding the puppy-dog eyes for good measure.

"Whoa, Chief!" he staggered, still carefully holding Blair in his arms. "That was a good one."

Blair shrugged a little. "I try."

"You use that one on anyone else but me?"

"Nope," he shook his head. "That's my Jim Ellison special. Guaranteed to get me whatever I want. I only use it on very special occasions."

"Such as?"

"Such as when I want him to carry me upstairs to bed, where I can demonstrate certain other special features of my mouth."

"It does other things, too?"

"One or two. It's quite versatile, really."

"Well, I insist on a demonstration. To bed it is."

They were halfway to the stairs when Blair said, "You don't really have to carry me, you know."

"Oh, yes I do. Far be it for me to be the cause of a wasted pout. If we're going to wean you off

those, we have to make sure that the ones you do use are for a good cause."

"Well, if it's the only way I'll learn - "

"Definitely, Chief. Take my word for it. I have a feeling that this lesson is going to be a long

and hard one."

Blair grinned. "Promise?"

Jim deposited him on the bed. "Oh, yes," he said, unbuttoning his shirt. "And we might have to

repeat it over and over again, just to make sure you've got it down."

"I'm all for the cause of higher education," Blair said, pulling off his sweater, and kicking his shoes off the edge of the bed. "Are you grading on a curve?" he asked, rolling over on his stomach.

Jim sat on the bed and slid a warm hand down the curve of Blair's back, down to the swell of his

buttocks, feeling the shiver run through the younger man. "I might." He reached around for the button of Blair's jeans, and unzipped them, feeling the hardness of the erection pressing against the fabric. To his delight, when he peeled the jeans away, he found that Blair wasn't wearing any underwear at all. That discovery always thrilled him.

He lay down carefully on top of Blair, letting the heat of his own erection pour through his jeans as he rubbed himself against his Guide's gorgeous ass. Blair moaned and arched up against him.

"You like that?" he breathed.

"Yes," Blair moaned, adding, "you're pretty good at the tease yourself, you know."

"This isn't a tease," Jim said, kneeling up to undo his jeans. "It's a promise." He stood up to pull the last of his clothing away, taking a moment to drink in the sight of Blair, laid out and waiting for him. He shook his head.

"What's wrong?" Blair asked.

"I need to see more evidence before we finish the lesson. You're going to have to turn onto your back, so I can see the pout while I'm fucking you."

Blair gasped at the heat those words caused him. He turned over on the bed, drawing his knees up, looking into those blue eyes that were now nearly black with desire. "We've never tried this

before," he said, a little shaky.

"Tell me if I'm hurting you, and I'll stop." Blair nodded at him. "Promise me, Blair - I don't ever want to hurt you."

"I promise."

He reached for the lubricant and squeezed a little onto his fingers, plunging them inside Blair

insistently, reveling in the feel of the man opening himself up to him, arching into his touch.

His own hands were shaking as he coated his erection with the lube, then prepared to enter

Blair.

"Let me see it," he said, and Blair grinned before unleashing the pout on him. He couldn't keep it,

though, because of the moan that Jim pushing inside his body caused him to utter.

"Oh, god, Jim!" he yelled.

Jim stopped dead. "Does it hurt?"

"Are you kidding? If you don't start moving again, I'll kill you."

"I'll take that as a 'no,' then," Jim said, leaning forward to kiss Blair as he pushed his full length inside.

"I never knew it could be like this. To see you, *and* feel your mouth, *and* have you inside.

God, Jim - don't ever stop." He reached for his own erection, but Jim pushed his hands away, and

rubbed up against him with his stomach. Feeling the rippled abdominal muscles of his lover

stroking against him, Blair nearly lost it, and let out another groan.

"That's it, Chief," Jim panted, "just let yourself feel it. You are so beautiful." He kissed him again, letting his tongue mimic the movements of his body.

Blair felt as though his entire body was one taut muscle. He tried to relax into the feeling, but it was all too much - sensory overload. He thought that he was going to burst into tears if he couldn't find some release, then Jim shifted, bringing out yet another set of responses in his body. He cried out.

"Jim, please - oh god, Jim, please!"

Jim gave another thrust, harder this time, pushing as deeply as he could. He felt Blair shudder

underneath him, once, twice, then his climax was spilling out over them. The tension in Blair's

body wrapped itself around his cock, pulling the orgasm bodily out of him. He groaned, letting go.

He'd never know how he was able to catch himself before he fell boneless on top of Blair and

crushed him, but he did it and rolled over to the side, pulling his Guide into his arms.

"I've got to tell you, Jim," Blair said, in a voice so low that only Sentinel hearing would have been able to catch it, "that was one lesson that I will never be able to forget."

"Good, Chief," Jim said, kissing him, "because I don't think that I could repeat that one. What you do to me." He shook his head, unable to find any words.

"I'll just have to keep that in mind, then, when I feel myself using the pout," Blair said, reaching

down for a blanket to cover them. He shifted over closer into Jim's grasp, settling into the warmth. "I must only use it for the cause of good."

"And don't over-use it," Jim added.

Blair nodded. "And never, *ever* use it on Simon."

Jim just laughed.

The End

MonaR.