The Gift

Blair sighed, pushing up his glasses to rub at the bridge of his nose. Stifling a yawn, he glanced over toward the clock. 12:26 AM. “That’s it for tonight then,” he grinned to himself, tossing his pen down onto the remaining stack of ungraded papers.

“And since technically, it’s tomorrow, that makes it Mother’s Day.” He picked up the heavy rectangular parcel that had arrived in yesterday’s mail, “and that means I can finally open this.”

From the time he was a child old enough to understand, Naomi Sandburg had told her son that he was her greatest gift and every Mother’s Day, whether in person or by parcel post, she presented him with some small gift as a reminder.

Carefully unwrapping the plain brown paper, Blair was surprised to find a double layer of bubble wrap around the gift. Lifting the note, written in his mother’s flowing script, he read:

You know how I feel about bubble wrap, but in this case I thought it might come in handy.

Sweetie, I know you're a genius, but after my last visit, I realised that you are quite clueless in certain areas, too.

So, please, honey, look closely at the gift. They're from my last visit. And then make good use of the bubble wrap.

Happy Mother's Day!

Remember, I love you always,

Curious now, and a little nervous, Blair sat staring at the package in his hands. He was well aware of how much his mother disliked the plastic wrapping, preferring to use almost anything else to wrap parcels in. He’d received parcels from Naomi that were wrapped in a sweater, or a beach towel, or even newspaper articles she thought he’d be interested in.

If Naomi was sending this gift in bubble wrap then she’d decided that whatever it was would really knock Blair for a loop. She knew that Blair found it particularly calming to pop the small bubbles, that the absent-minded activity helped him relax and sort his thoughts when they threatened to go whirling out of control.

“What on earth is she sending me?” he mumbled.

Peeling back the plastic wrapping, Blair could see that it was a pair of wooden picture frames, hinged together on one side. Slowly cracking open the frames, he stared, open-mouthed at the pictures inside.

Absently, his hand reached for the bubble wrap...

Pop.

Snap-pop-pop.

Jim woke, pulled from sleep by the annoying sound. “What the hell...”

Pop-snap.

“Sandburg?” he called.

Not getting any answer, Jim stood up, slipped on a pair of boxers and stumbled toward the stairs.

Pop-pop-pop.

“Sandburg,” he growled, rubbing at his eyes, squinting even in the low light. “What’s going on? What the hell is that noise?”

Startled, Blair glanced quickly at his roommate, pulling the picture frames tight against his chest. “What? Oh, sorry man. Nerves I guess. Popping the bubbles helps me relax, helps me think.”

“What’s wrong, Chief?” Jim asked, reaching a hand to rest on Blair’s tight shoulder.

Blair looked at Jim, appraisingly, seeing the naked concern in the pale blue eyes, feeling the warmth of Jim’s palm against his arm. Decision made, he extended the picture frames toward Jim saying only, “I opened the parcel Naomi sent.”

Curious, Jim accepted the pictures from Blair. Tearing his gaze away from Blair’s unreadable silver eyes, Jim glanced down at the framed photos in his hands. He sucked in his breath, swallowing heavily. He stared at the picture of himself standing behind Blair, the longing and love emblazoned on his face frozen forever by Naomi’s camera. He didn’t even remember her taking the damned picture.

Of its own volition, his own hand reached toward the bubble wrap.

Snap-snap-pop.

Nervously, he let his eyes slide to the second photo. It was Blair. He was looking at an album of some kind. Dialling up his sight a little, Jim could see that Blair was looking at that old magazine cover, the one from when he’d just gotten back from Peru. Naomi had caught Blair just as he was staring with a soft, far-away expression, running his fingers over the face in the photo.

Hope blazed in Jim’s heart as he studied the photo. He extended his senses slightly, to monitor Blair as he asked, “Will this be a problem?”

Jim held his breath, listening to Blair’s accelerating heartbeat and breathing as the young man answered slowly, “Not if you mean it.”

Pop-pop-snap.

Jim grinned, “I know a better way to relax.” He murmured suggestively.

“Do you?” Blair swallowed nervously; almost afraid to believe he wasn’t dreaming.

“It’s a little more involved,” Jim warned.

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, let’s go.” Jim hoisted Blair, throwing him over his shoulder as he scrambled up the stairs to the loft.

“Jim!” Blair squawked.

Jim flopped Blair down onto the bed, resting his hands at the smaller man’s waist. “Did you mean it Blair?”

“Oh, yeah.” Blair murmured softly, smiling up at Jim. He brushed one hand softly against Jim’s cheek, before moving his fingers to join Jim’s own, frantically working on buttons, shoving aside clothes. Until he lay sprawled, naked and panting in the centre of Jim’s big bed.

Jim stopped then, just looking at Blair.

Blair blushed, feeling more than a little self-conscious next to his partner’s glorious physique. “Jim,” he whispered, closing his eyes.

“Don’t hide baby.” Jim smiled, tangling his fingers in Blair’s long brown curls. “You’re so beautiful, Blair.”

Blair opened his eyes then, needing to see Jim’s.

Jim planted a tender kiss on the tip of Blair’s nose. “I’ve dreamed of seeing you like this. Naked, in my bed. With your hair fanning out over my pillows.”

Jim lowered his head, teasing his lips against Blair’s ear, “Relax. Let me love you.”

Blair sighed, calm washing over him. Whatever Jim wanted.

Jim planted a trail of warm, wet kisses down Blair’s neck. When he reached Blair’s chest, he slowed. Licking whorling patterns into the hair sprinkled down the centre of Blair’s chest, his eyes were drawn to the small brown nipples, nestled there, and the glint of silver sparkling on the left side.

With an amused hum, he wrapped his lips around Blair’s left nipple, testing the metallic flavour of the ring mixing with the salty spice that was Blair.

Blair gasped, arching as he felt Jim’s teeth and tongue tugging at his ring. The tiny movements pulling a thread of fire extending straight to his groin.

Making a mental note of Blair’s sensitivity and responsiveness, Jim left his fingers to continue the teasing, as he moved his lips lower, following the hair, arrowing a trail down Blair’s quivering belly straight to his hidden navel.

Jim stabbed his tongue into the soft indentation, nibbling and sucking there until he could hear Blair’s soft moans of “please, jim” repeated over and over, as he thrashed under Jim’s mouth. When he felt Blair’s fingers scrambling at his head, grasping for purchase in his own short hair, he relented, moving lower.

Jim was surprised. Blair was so close to his climax. He could hear it in his breathing and his heartbeat. But then, he grinned to himself, his own cock was rigid and leaking, without even being touched. Just from loving Blair.

Letting his fingers slide up Blair’s inner thighs to tease and fondle the heavy, tight balls they found there, Jim leaned in close, inhaling deeply. He wanted to imprint the scent of Blair, his musky arousal, so deeply he would never forget it.

Extending his tongue, he licked. Slowly, savouring the taste of Blair as if he were the sweetest ice cream cone. Swirling his tongue around the head, teasing under the rim, licking long strokes, base to tip up the full length.

Blair moaned softly, “oh god jim, please,”

Jim smiled; engulfing Blair’s throbbing heat, suction hollowing his cheeks as he swallowed.

Blair screamed Jim’s name, shuddering his climax.

Jim was drowning. In Blair’s heat, in the bittersweet tang of Blair’s release, in the thundering heartbeat pulsing down his throat, in the scent of Blair’s satisfaction. So much sensation, too much.

Jim came, shooting his own release into the sheets.

When awareness returned, Jim found himself cradled in Blair’s arms, soft, tired kisses raining over his face and neck. “Jim?” Blair called softly.

Jim smiled, catching Blair’s lips for a weary, but still intense kiss. “I’m all right.” He grinned, unable to contain his exuberance, “I’m more than all right. I’m fantastic.”

Blair chuckled softly, “yes, you are.” He snuggled closer to Jim, “and I’m exhausted. Let’s go to sleep.”

Jim shifted, extricating himself from Blair’s hold.

Blair frowned, cautiously opening one eye. “I can sleep up here, right?” he asked quietly.

“Of course,” Jim scowled with a quick kiss. “Always. I’ll be right back, Chief. I’m just gonna go shut off the lights.”

“‘Kay jim,” Blair mumbled softly, smiling again, adding, “hurry back,” as he curled into the warm spot Jim left.

Jim bounced lightly down the stairs. He headed for the light switch, but paused, seeing Blair’s computer on the table. Quick decision made, he typed up a short e-mail to Naomi.

“Naomi, Thank you for the beautiful gift. I will treasure him always. Happy Mother’s Day. Jim.” Adding, “P.S. Blair will call you tomorrow afternoon.”

E-mail sent, Jim logged off, closed up the computer, and shut off the lights, hurrying back upstairs to rejoin his new lover.

He slipped quietly under the covers, not wanting to disturb Blair.

Blair shifted with a grin, rolling over to curl against Jim’s wide chest. “Did you tell her I’ll call her tomorrow?” he mumbled, grinning against Jim’s shoulder.

Jim threaded his fingers into Blair’s curls, loving the feel of the silky strands against his skin. He chuckled, “Yeah, late though. I’m not leaving this bed before noon.”

Blair’s laughter rumbled against Jim’s neck, as he planted several wet kisses along the bigger man’s shoulder, “You and me both, Jim.” He giggled. “You and me both.”