Author: Kitipurr

Rating: PG

Pairings: Slashy m/m overtures

Status: Complete

Date: 07/21/02

Category: Humor

Disclaimer: The characters in this work are the intellectual property of Pet Fly Productions.
My use of them is not meant to infringe upon their copyrights or profits. I make no money from this work. To sue me will deny my cats their inheiritence of about $1.26 American. Unless I win the lottery - then I'm buyin'em for us all, damn it!

Author's Notes: This is a first attempt, no net, no beta. Feedback welcome.

Story Notes: Should be PG-13 for one naughty word - and one naughty Blair!

Summary: Blair gets his coworkers all hot and bothered.

Warnings: Other: see story notes

Jim barely looked up from his file as Blair dropped down in front of him. "Great, your back. Sandburg, I need you to..."

Rip.

"Uh... Blair?" Jim froze in place, eyes locked on his partner.

Blair was pulling it out reverently, thoughtfully.

Brought it to his lips.

Pressed a long, slow kiss.

Ran his tongue the full length... slowly... savoring...

"Chief..." It came out more of a breathless squeak.

Blair's tongue moved seductively over its prey, caressing, stroking, loving.

His mouth moved up to the tip and nipped lightly.

Jim caught his breath in a rugged gasp.

"Jim, what..." Rafe followed Jim's gaze and gulped. He stopped cold.

Sandburg's mouth moved along the side length, sucking...

Lips and tongue working in tandem...

Licking...

"Oh my god," Rafe gasped weakly.

A long slide up from the base to the tip.

A fervent light suckle at the head.

Rafe's jaw dropped open in awe.

"Henri..." he whispered hoarsely.

Brown looked up from his desk and stilled, eyes wide.

Blair nipped at the head again, and three men made tiny whimpering noises.

Sluuuuuurrrrp.

Another long, slow lap of the tongue along the full length.

Slow, slow... lips wet from their treasure...

A tongue snaked over those full, ripe lips... tasting the sweet juice left on them.

"My god..." Jim moaned, his eyes drifting to half-mast.

Blair engulfed the full length just once, a long slow slid down and up.

A suckle on the tip.

A tiny nibble.

Mouth moved in wide motions along the side.

Brown released a ragged breath. "Sweet lord..."

"What on earth, fellas..."

"Connor..." A finger pointed. Meagan looked.

Meagan stopped, shocked.

Meagan grunted.

Tongue stroke up, lick across, tongue stroke down.

Wet, sensual lips.

Languid tongue.

"... mama..." Meagan whispered, falling back to lean on her desk.

Lips moved slow along the side, nibbling down the full length.

Tongue lapping after each nibble.

Jim groaned and closed his eyes briefly.

Tongue licked lips again. Red, juicy, ripe lips. Wet lips.

Nibble nibble lick lick lap.

Sandburg lazily fucked his mouth on his prize. Once... twice...

Lap at the head.

Lick along the length.

Meagan swallowed hard.

Rafe tried to remember to breathe.

Henri sighed audibly.

Jim moaned in desire.

Full swallow down, up, full swallow again.

Nibble nibble nibble.

Suuuuuck...

Simon looked up from his desk as he realized his bullpen had grown unusually quiet. Casting his gaze along the room, he saw... Sandburg.

What Sandburg was doing.

And all his detectives watching him.

Panting.

Gasping.

Moaning.

Oh, god.

Not again.

He was doing it again.

So erotic... so passionate... so... desirable...

Simon growled under his breath as he got out of his chair and headed towards the offender. He hated to take away the guy's joys in life, but this kind of behavior just WOULD NOT DO on his watch. On any watch. Especially since Simon himself couldn't stand TO watch.

Hell, it just wasn't right.

And it cost the department way too much money in cold showers.

"SANDBURG!" he barked at his very loudest, yanking off Blair's headset, bringing the anthropologist out of his music-induced deafness. Blair looked up from the computer screen where he'd been so adamantly focused and blinked at the captain, confused. "Damn it, Sandburg, how many times do I have to tell you not to do that!" Blair glanced around as it dawned on him how many eyes were on him, how many flushed, aroused faces were staring at his direction. Simon sighed, glaring around as the detectives of Major Crimes suddenly, sheepishly, returned to what they'd been doing before the distraction. Satisfied that his people had returned to duty (or at least were headed to the bathrooms) he turned to his chastised observer.

"Sorry, Simon, I keep forgetting."

"Damn it, Blair, I'm only going to say this one more time... DO NOT EAT POPSICLES AT THE STATION!"

### The End ###