Blair was sure that something was wrong with his lover - sure all the way to the core of his soul and had been for weeks. Not that he had any proof or even the slimmest of evidence that he could use to confront Jim and get to the bottom of whatever it was. It was more like a motion caught out of the corner of his eye, or a taste left behind after breathing; so insubstantial that if he hadn't long ago learned to trust his intuition, especially where his sentinel was concerned, he would have dismissed it.
Staring through the darkness of three a.m. at the skylight over them, Blair tried to pinpoint something he could use to at least hint at what was wrong, but the only thing that came to mind sounded lame, to say the least. "Hey, Jim," he said in the privacy of his thoughts, "When did we start fucking instead of making love?"
Yeah, that would go over well. Blair could almost hear him say tightly, "In case you hadn't noticed, Dr. Ruth, we've fucked quite a few times since you showed up at my motel room door posing as a rent boy."
Truth was that they *had* fucked more than once, coming together fast and hard with nothing in mind but finding sexual relief, just like any other couple still in the honeymoon throes of a relationship. But even then it had been more than just sex as far as Blair was concerned. He had always come away from those passionate, laughing quickies feeling connected and well-loved.
Tonight, he sighed silently. Tonight, though.... Looking over at his sleeping partner, kept at bay from his usual cuddling by Blair's strategically placed elbows and knees, Blair finished tiredly, It was like jacking off to go to sleep; efficient, joyless and lonely.
Yet the very fact that he had to work at keeping Jim from sprawling over him like always said that whatever was wrong with their relationship, it wasn't a lack of love. Maybe it was simply the specter that haunted all men sooner or later: exhaustion. Maybe they were both too tired and too distracted by the incredible hassle that was their life right now to be able to make love properly. Or maybe they were beginning to take each other a tiny bit for granted, like all old married couples did at times when life overwhelmed them.
If that's the case, Blair thought morosely, I want to at least have the wedding first! And the honeymoon. Especially the honeymoon! Shifting restlessly, he looked at the shadow-softened lines and planes of his lover, resisting the urge to run his fingertips over Jim's lips or cheeks, just to be touching him. Resolutely turning away from that lure, he went back to the reason he was making himself stay awake at this unholy hour, when, if he weren't sleeping, he should be working on the eighteen thousand things demanding his attention outside of their bedroom.
Of course, it's no one's fault but mine there hasn't been a wedding yet. Jim's asked me to wear his mark; I just can't decide what I want that to be. Thank god he's being so patient with me while I make up my mind. How do I tell him that after waiting all this time for him to be ready for a permanent commitment, I'm overwhelmed by the *how* of doing it?
Like rosary beads for the mind, Blair ran over the many possibilities he'd considered since that remarkable night Jim had finally been able to say the words Blair most needed to hear. Rings or bracelets, piercings, ears maybe or nipples, tattoos, god, where and what, branding, same problems, could I even stand the pain, would scarring hurt as much, again where.... Blair jerked himself back from the edge of sleep and pushed away the familiar litany before it could lull him further.
Deliberately inching away from his sleeping lover, Blair made himself as uncomfortable as possible and turned his mind back to the problem at hand. Minutes later, he jarred awake again, and mentally threw his hands up in surrender. This isn't helping at all. Could be the whole thing really is just in my brain, put there by the fact that Jim and I haven't had *time* to make love right in God knows how long. In that case, there's nothing to do but make time.
Reaching into the nightstand for lube, Blair accidentally fished out a small bottle of cinnamon oil that he had had made especially for extra-sensitive sentinel skin and had never gotten around to using. A small, wicked grin gained control over his face, and he let it stay. Maybe what they both really, really needed was a reminder of exactly what they'd been missing lately; it might make explaining the lack to Jim a hell of a lot easier, too.
Pouring a palm full, Blair stroked himself to hardness, finally letting his gaze rove possessively over Jim. It didn't take him long to get ready, despite the relief he'd gotten earlier, which told him that he was definitely on the right track. He spread more into the crease between his thighs and over his balls, already sure of what he wanted.
That done, he rolled over and gently nudged Jim until he willingly turned to his side, facing Blair, one hand blindly searching for him. Catching it and kissing the back, Blair tucked it along Jim's side, out of the way for the moment. Then he simply placed both oil-laden palms over his lover's nipples and waited for the miniscule burn from the cinnamon on them to penetrate. Both nubs tightened up almost immediately and a moment later Jim's breathing changed slightly as he tried to move closer to Blair.
Stopping him by the simple expedient of bracing his arms to provide resistance, Blair waited until he seemed about to slide deeply under again, and then took his hands away. He blew gently across Jim's chest, raising goose bumps that even he could see, and put his palms back where they had been, this time using slightly more pressure. Willing to swear that he could feel the heat beginning to concentrate under his touch, Blair gently kneaded, creating a subtle friction that would massage the oil in deeper.
With a soft moan that could have been Blair's name, Jim arched against the hold on him, eyelids fluttering as he tried to wake. It was so rare for him not to switch almost instantly from sleeping to alert, that for a moment Blair wondered if he was doing the right thing by disturbing him. Then Jim's eyes opened, no blue left for Blair to see in the gloom and sparkling with undeniable lust. "Dreaming?" he asked groggily, reaching for Blair again.
"Better than a dream," Blair whispered silkily, moving into his arms as they encircled him. He sent both hands down a slippery snake's path to Jim's lengthening cock, wrapping his fingers around it to encourage it to grow while working in more of the oil.
With a breathy grunt of surprised pleasure, Jim thrust hard into the grip on him, and for a second Blair was tempted to simply watch him take his pleasure. His own body twinged sympathetically at a throb in the thick column he held, killing that notion. Rolling to his back, taking Jim with him, he said, "Com'ere, like this." As the welcome mass of his lover settled over him, he captured Jim's hard-on between his thighs and rocked up, startling a groan from both of them.
"God, hot, *hot.* Good!" Suddenly going still, Jim caught Blair's head between his hands and took his weight on his elbows, looking down into his face. "Too good. I can't hold off, and this doesn't usually work well for you."
Squirming restlessly, Blair said, "I want it like this. It's okay if you get off first, I'd like that, honest."
Digging long fingers into Blair's curls to cradle his skull, Jim studied him, eyelids slowly going to half-mast in enjoyment. "Gonna get my come all over you."
"You don't sound like that's really a problem," Blair half-laughed.
"It's not." With a harsh breath that sounded suspiciously like a suppressed sigh, Jim bent and took a long, deep kiss, hips leisurely pumping.
Tightening his leg muscles to make things as snug as possible for him, Blair gave himself over to Jim's satisfaction, sincerely not wanting anything more than to make it good for him. Besides, he *loved* being under him like this, pinned to the mattress by his size and strength, surrounded by the sounds and scents of their lovemaking. The cinnamon oil was the exciting extra he had hoped it would be, too. The heat between them was unbelievable, practically melting him except for the part that was rock-hard.
That small difference, Blair realized, was almost enough all by itself to help him finish along with Jim. Not only did it bring to mind hot times between them with even hotter sex, but it made him pay attention to the delicate flexing and contracting of Jim's body on his cock as he worked toward release. All Blair needed was the tiniest bit of something more; what, he had no idea and no mind left to look for it. Tightening his arms around Jim's back, he strained up into the solid stomach pressing his hard-on into his own belly, fruitlessly trying to fuck properly.
Jim groaned and moved faster and harder, his massive cock nudging at the opening to Blair's body, as if instinctively trying to find where it belonged. The very thought that it *might* push into him was all that Blair needed. With a violent shudder that had him clenching his fingers and curling his toes, he came, dimly aware of Jim's shout of release, which only added to his.
As quickly as the shock of ecstasy hit, it was gone, leaving Blair utterly relaxed and almost too limp to clumsily help Jim clean them up a few minutes later. Pulling the blankets straight to cover them, Jim lay on his side, head propped up in one palm, and tucked a finger under Blair's chin to lift his head to gaze into his eyes. "Not that I'm complaining, but is there any particular reason you got so horny you had to jump me at..." He paused and glanced at the clock. "Three-thirty in the morning?"
Frowning slightly, Blair considered his words before saying carefully, "I'm just tired of making do with crumbs of your time and attention when what I want is you all to myself for a couple of months, at least."
"Yeah, it's been pretty bad," Jim agreed easily, much to Blair's surprise. For a moment he looked distracted, clearly running something through his head. "Would a weekend help? Maybe to Play, but at least get out of town, just the two of us. Can't, this one coming, but next weekend?"
Relieved that Jim understood and had probably been having his own worries about how things were between them, Blair said, "Man, we haven't Played in ages. Want me to contact Lady Thea or Philip?"
"Your call, Chief," Jim said, then he stifled a yawn. "Now get to sleep before Simon fires us for criminal lethargy on the job and having enough time stops being a problem for us."
Unable to hide his own yawn, Blair stretched and got comfortable. "Don't tempt me," he mumbled, and was asleep before he heard the chuckle that he felt under his cheek.
* * *
The early-morning session, along with the promise of a weekend off, seemed to do the trick, but only to a point. Though they didn't go silent, the alarm bells in Blair's mind quieted, enough that he almost forgot at times that they were still sounding. It helped that the next day, Blair went into the gym to pick up Jim after his workout and overheard a snippet of conversation between his lover and a homicide detective new to the force.
"Jesus, Ellison, did you nail her good or what? Or maybe I should say she nailed you? Next time you should think about getting her to cut them so she won't slice you up so bad."
Despite the sardonic tone in the man's voice, there was an undercurrent of pure male envy that Blair had no trouble understanding. Grinning, thinking about how smug he felt when he'd had a chance to display his own proof of sexual prowess with women, Blair grinned, shook his head and waited for Jim's come-back.
"Given how much money women spend to keep those talons of theirs, suggesting that they cut them is a good way to make sure that you don't have to worry about scratches anymore," Jim said dryly.
The homicide detective laughed, slapped his locker door closed and left for his shower as Blair rounded the row of lockers. Jim's back was to him, and he could see for himself the furrows on either side, just over the shoulder blades. "Whoa," he said, coming up behind him and running a tentative finger parallel to one. "Short nails or not, I did get you good."
"Yep," Jim said contentedly. Not giving him a chance to apologize, though Blair wasn't sure that's what he wanted to do - bragging seemed like a good idea, too, for some reason - Jim turned and poked him once, playfully, in the sternum. "Consider them a down payment on the love-bites and bruises we both know I'll have after our weekend."
There was serenity in his expression and so much ease in every line of his body that Blair was sure Jim truly didn't mind wearing the scratches, despite having to cover for their source. Something inside inexplicably relaxed, and he said, "Which will match the ones on me, no doubt."
Flashing him a foolish grin, Jim pulled on his t-shirt, took out his jacket and closed his locker. "Wanna keep score?"
Blair laughed and swatted at him, then the thread of conversation was lost as Rafe came into the room, fuming about the new duty roster.
It stayed with him, though, nagging that it was more important than he thought, but he never really had a chance to figure out why. Shortly after, Cascade went insane, or at least that was the short explanation for why suddenly there was major trouble in every corner of the city. The police would no sooner calm a gang war that apparently broke out over nothing, than a union strike on the waterfront would turn violent for no obvious reason. Units would return to the station, dragging ass and complaining bitterly about the extra duty, than they would be called out again to help contain the crowds around an arson fire taking out half a city block.
The weekend that Blair and Jim had planned for vanished under an ever-shifting mess of injured officers and new situations cropping up that took every man with a badge, regardless of rank or department. To make matters worse, Blair accidentally got caught up in a homicide case of a non-observant Islamic woman murdered by her brother. Though the culture wasn't one he was an expert in, he knew enough to help the detectives question the witnesses and neighbors more effectively, and to help get a confession from the brother. The D.A. got the bright idea of prosecuting the father and elderly uncle, too, on the basis they coerced the brother into the crime using religious pressure.
Though Blair's assistance was mostly behind the scenes, contacting the right experts and helping create the right line of questioning, it still ate up huge amounts of his life before the case was won. Not only did he lose the time off that he'd hoped for, but he was lucky if he had a chance to kiss Jim hello or goodnight as they passed each other on the way in or out. And as each day passed, the worry that something was wrong got louder and more demanding, until it followed him even in his dreams.
As if that wasn't bad enough, the distance between them seemed more than just physical. The contentment that had been in Jim when they shared a look slowly faded, leaving behind something Blair couldn't read. But much as it bothered him, there didn't seem to be any way he could dig in his heels and stop the world long enough to restore it.
One day, in the middle of the usual chaos, Blair suddenly thought, What if I can't put it back? He tried to dismiss the notion; he and Jim had been through so much already, surely they could handle this, whatever it was, too. The doubt was there, though, and powerful enough that Blair abruptly turned on his heel and walked away from what he was doing. He went straight to the bullpen of Major Crimes with the intention of dragging Jim home for a few hours, physically if necessary.
"Hey, Hairboy," Rafe called out cheerfully, halfway out the door himself. "Finally decided to get back up here where you belong?"
"Why?" Blair shot back. "Got a real crime that you need solved?"
"No, we're out of donuts and need someone to make a run for us," H. said, clapping him on the shoulder as he passed.
Clearly on the move, Rafe handed Blair a file. "Ellison just went downstairs to records looking for this. I found it on my desk just a sec ago, but I gotta leave *now.* or risk Banks chewing off what's left of my ass. Would you mind calling down and letting him know?"
"Only if you two pick up the donuts on the way back," Blair said, tucking the folder under an arm and automatically taking a stack of paperwork to hold for Henri as he put on his coat. "Don't forget to get two glazed for Jim so I can brib... uh, make it up to him for the misplaced file."
Rafe and Henri winced melodramatically, then with a fast scoop to get the papers back, they were out of the door. Blair watched them go, fist absently drumming on his thigh, obscurely troubled. Though obviously in a major hurry, the partners had not only taken time to welcome him, admittedly in the usual off-hand male way, but had made a point to let him know where Jim was, too. Could be he wasn't the only one noticing that something was wrong, somewhere.
Determined, Blair went to Jim's desk and dialed the records department, glancing through Jim's notes for the day to see what he had scheduled. A light feminine voice he didn't recognize cheerily announced "Records."
"Yes, this is Blair Sandburg in Major Crimes; I'm looking for Detective Ellison. He should be down there right about now."
"Not at the moment," she said, voice distracted.
"Could I hold until he gets there? I have what he's looking for, so it'll save all of us some trouble."
"Hold for Ellison? Sure, no problem." For some unfathomable reason, she simply put the phone down and went on with what was distracting her.
Smiling and shaking his head, well aware of the chaos that had resulted from restructuring that department, Blair listened with half an ear, reading through Jim's calendar as he waited.
A strong feminine alto purred unexpectedly in his ear, yanking his attention back to the phone. "Yow! Look at what's coming our way! Christmas has come early, ladies."
Her voice was distant enough that Blair knew she was standing close to the phone, but not close enough to realize it was off the hook. His smile broadened into a grin and he expected to hear Jim's voice next. Instead the first speaker said dryly, "That's Ellison, Major Crimes. Or, as I've fondly come to think of him in the three weeks I've been here, Detective Fire and Ice."
"Fire and Ice?" the second woman asked, sounding slightly taken aback.
"As in he's cool and polite when he's talking to you, unless you've screwed up, then he's the kind of cold that burns," the first said.
Blair blinked at her description; it didn't sound at all like the Jim he knew, who tended to erupt violently.
"Come on, a man doesn't spend the time to keep a body like that unless he wants to be noticed. Frequently. With horny intent."
Unless he's a sentinel, Blair amended silently, now listening intently with unexpected jealously beginning to spiral through him.
"Trust me; I know from where I speak," the woman who had answered the phone said. "I thought he just had high standards or was seriously gay, but you know Lessa in Dispatch, started 'bout the same time we did? Got the body of a goddess? She did everything but flash her boobs at him and came damn close to that. He noticed them, with his eyes anyway, but his voice and expression never changed."
The jealously cranked up another notch, and without thinking about it, Blair stood, clutching the phone to his ear.
"Huh!" The second woman sounded speculative and predatory. "I always did like a challenge...."
Blair didn't stay to hear more; he bolted from the bullpen, barely restraining from an out-and-out run. In no mood to wait for the elevator, he raced down the stairs to the third floor and popped out the door, anticipating seeing some hussy making moves on his lover. Thankfully for all involved, Jim had been held up in the hallway in front of Records by Bob Danvers, an assistant D.A., for an intense conversation. A tall, leggy red-head was hovering in the background, trying to look busy, but the way she kept sliding glances toward Jim told Blair clearly she had been the woman ogling his partner.
Forcing himself to a casual walk, Blair headed for the two men, not at all surprised when Jim jerked his head up to study him. Smiling tightly, he joined them, not touching his lover but standing close enough to him to invade his personal space. Danvers took it for granted and never lagged in his steady stream of questions for Jim; the redhead frowned prettily in confusion.
Good! Blair said mentally with a firmness that caught him off-guard. He tried to keep that thought off his face, but Jim eyed him warily, then looked quickly toward the desk, then at the red head. For a second he wore his best 'cop working here' expression, then his lips drew into a thin line.
Busted. Since Jim didn't seem to be *too* upset, Blair didn't bother to feel guilty at either his possessiveness or being found out about it.
A few moments later Danvers nodded brusquely, satisfied with Jim's answers, and went on his way, leaving the partners alone for the moment. Bending his head so he was almost close enough to kiss, Jim said softly, "Defending your territory, Chief?"
"Can you blame me?" Blair said, adding to the suggestion of intimacy by laying a hand on Jim's forearm. "My Own! Remember?"
"Always."
"I think you need a reminder." A burst of intuition hit Blair, almost staggering him, and he muttered more to himself than Jim, "Reminder - of course."
"Chief?" Jim started worriedly.
Shoving aside his insight, Blair asked persuasively, "Have lunch with me?"
"Now? Chief...."
"Please. It's important. I checked; you don't have anything that can't wait half an hour or so." Trying to neither plead nor demand, Blair waited patiently for Jim to make up his mind.
With one of his best smiles finally appearing, Jim asked, "The kind of lunch that feeds one hunger but leaves you snatching at stray bites the rest of the day to feed your stomach?"
"What I need in that department wouldn't be satisfied with a nooner," Blair said seriously, pleased at the sudden flare of heat in Jim's eyes. "I had Mr. Tube Steak in mind, actually, so I could walk with you somewhere."
The heat was banked, then turned to curiosity, and Jim turned to lead the way to the elevators. "Sounds good; just getting out of the building for a while would be a relief."
Blair followed him, stealing a glance over his shoulder at the redhead. She and the petite blonde behind the desk were staring after the two of them, shock clear in their expressions. More for the rumor mill, he thought complacently. If we ever were to come out I don't think anybody but the new people will be surprised. The idea held enough appeal that Blair actually considered it, but he eventually decided yet again that their privacy too important to be held up to scrutiny.
Jim seemed to take his quiet introspection for granted. He strolled to the small park nearest the station, almost visibly relaxing once they were out in the fresh air. That was just what Blair wanted, or at least part of it. To get the rest, he walked as close to him as he humanly could, finding small reasons to touch him as they ordered their hot dogs and soda.
Chewing the first bite thoughtfully, Blair wandered down the street toward the business part of the downtown, trying to find the words to start the conversation he wanted to have. Finally he just stopped in front of a jeweler's store, staring through the window at the display there.
"See something you like, Chief?" Jim asked quietly, the sudden hope in his voice hidden if Blair hadn't been listening for it.
"The plain white-gold rings; I've been eyeing them for a while," Blair answered, pointing at the bottom row. "They remind me of the chains we use sometimes to Play."
Leaning his forehead on the glass, he finally confessed, "Ever since you asked, I've spent damned near every waking moment trying to decide what marks to put on us. Haven't been able to make up my mind. Part of me wants something obvious, so everybody knows we're together, forever, no matter what. Part of me wants to keep it just between us, private and personal, a secret to bind us together that much tighter."
"And you decided on the rings?" Jim asked.
Catching sight of his lover's reflection in the clean glass, ashamed of the naked relief he could see in Jim's expression, Blair said, "Yes and no." Finishing off the bite of hotdog, he swallowed and gestured at the world in general. "I want both; public and private, if that's good for you. The rings for public; the private I'm still working on, but not much longer, I promise."
With a fleeting touch to the back of his neck, tugging on a stray curl, Jim said, "I just want it done, whatever you choose."
"Come on then." Blair boldly stepped into the store, willing to do battle with anyone who gave them a hard time for choosing matching rings.
In a short time, with only courteous assistance from the staff, they walked back out again, Jim carrying the rings in a small bag. Without thinking, Blair headed back for the park and a short while later seated himself on the top of a picnic table underneath a shady tree, taking a moment to turn up his face to the sun in appreciation. Jim sat next to him, thighs touching, but leaning back on his elbows so that he could lazily survey his surroundings.
"Know why men put up with big, showy weddings?" Blair asked conversationally, not looking at anything or anybody in particular.
"Because of their brides?" Jim answered lazily, though Blair knew it was a pose.
"Partly, but it's also misdirection - hiding the fact that for them the wedding is the equivalent of putting up a billboard that says, Mine! Hands Off!" He sat up straighter. "I can't do the billboard, and either one of us would look silly in a wedding gown, sooooo...." Taking out the ring meant for his lover, Blair calmly lifted Jim's left hand to slide it on the proper finger. "This is my public announcement that you're mine. Please come home early on Friday so I can give you a private promise that I'm yours?"
Jim sat up, took out the other ring and placed it where it belonged with a small kiss to the finger. "You have no idea how much I've wanted this, My Own."
"No, I didn't," Blair said honestly. "I got too caught up in my own indecision, to the point I didn't even know how to talk to you about it, but that's over."
"So we've got a date for Friday afternoon?"
"Come ready to Play. I know we said we'd keep that out of the loft, but for this.... Play is part of who and what we are, part of what we're promising each other. This *one* time, that's where we should be." Blair held his breath, waiting for Jim's reaction.
Clearly thinking it through, Jim said slowly, "Makes sense. I'm coming home last?"
"Yeah, but I want you to wash my feet. No. I'm going to be honest. This time I *need* you to kneel for me, let me run the scene."
Despite a hard shiver, Jim said, "For that night, yes. It doesn't mean that I want to always, or even mostly, be the one submitting, Blair. I like things the way they are, as far as that goes."
"Switching according to mood and need suits me, too." Blair tightened his fingers on the hand Jim still held, backing up his words with that subtle promise.
"In that case," Jim said reluctantly, "We'd better get going so I can clear off my desk enough to be able to keep our date." He gave Blair a lingering kiss, not caring who saw them. "What do you want to do at the station?"
"Since we're not going to have that big, showy wedding," Blair interrupted with a laugh.
Jim swatted at his head gently, then froze in place. "A misdirection.... Misdirection! All that trouble we're having all over the place."
"For no good reason," Blair said excitedly, following his thoughts.
"Misdirection - distraction from something big that someone doesn't want the police to notice. What were we working on before all hell broke loose in town? A lead about a major drug shipment coming through Cascade...." Mind obviously completely back on the job, Jim ran for the station, Blair close on his heels.
* * *
Fueled by an exhilarating and terrifying mix of love, lust, worry, expectation, and wholly male triumph, Blair finished his preparations that Friday much faster than he planned. The loft was sparkling clean, the stage was set upstairs, everything they would need was conveniently placed, and he was squeaky clean inside and out. All that was missing was his lover and soon-to-be lifemate, and Blair stood in Jim's usual spot by the balcony doors, waiting for him.
On the outside he supposed he looked composed and, hopefully, very sexy. Though he'd had the black leather pants he wore for some time, the black, long sleeved shirt was new and the buttery softness of it was amazingly sensuous on his skin. He was bare underneath both, except for a leather band with a great deal of history that was tied around his waist. His feet were bare, too, and thankfully the day was warm enough for that to be comfortable. Contrarily he had on very fine, very thin, black leather gloves that fit his hands like a second skin.
Wearing them was one of those things that he had expected would make him feel foolish and theatrical; instead he kept flexing his fists to feel the supple material caress him the way he wanted to use it to caress Jim. Already half-hard, both from that and anticipation for what he had planned, Blair regulated his breathing to steady pulls of air in through his nose and out his mouth to calm his nerves. It worked well enough that he was able to stay at his post until Jim's truck pulled into its usual parking place, a few minutes earlier than they'd planned.
Though fainting from the abrupt rise of emotion in him seemed like a possible option, Blair was composed enough when he went to stand by the door. When it opened, the whole insane mess inside him of him leaped, sending his heart to his throat, then just... left. Replaced by a surety in his love and his lover, he smiled at Jim in welcome and pulled him into his arms, lifting his face for a kiss.
Jim may have meant it to be a perfunctory kiss of 'glad to be home,' his mind still primarily on the job, though the department had finally busted the drug cartel's major front men causing all the trouble in Cascade. Blair had no intentions of letting any part of the cop mindset make it through the door this day. All it took was a gentle sweep of his tongue to persuade Jim to open his mouth for him, and then Blair took control of their kiss, deepening it until his lover was moaning in pleasure. With sure fingers he undid the shirt Jim was wearing so that he could run his leather-clad hands over his chest, then he pushed it off to do the same on his back.
With a harsh mutter, Jim tore his lips away, burying his face in the curve of Blair's shoulder. "Do you have any idea how fantastic this feels?" Twisting his torso, he dragged his nipples over the leather shirt, holding Blair close with fists knotted at the back of the material.
"Why do you think I bought it? Consider it a wedding gift for both of us," Blair said distractedly, tugging at the top button to Jim's pants. "Are you ready for me? Clean, lubed, and opened?"
"Fuck, yes. I've been hard since I left the locker room, wondering what you were going to do to me."
"Good, because if I don't get your mouth on me right now, I'm going to come in my pants. Suck me, My Own. Now." Turning so he could lean back against the door, Blair took a step back and pushed down on Jim's shoulders, not that his lover needed any coaxing to go to his knees.
Jim slid down gracefully, rubbing his face and chest along Blair's body as he went, hands flitting everywhere before settling on the full globes of Blair's ass. Once in position, he stropped his face over the obvious bulge in the leather pants, mouth open to catch the most of the scent, then ran his tongue along the hidden length of Blair's cock. "Like this?"
With a snort of genuine amusement, Blair said, "You might like that, but I want to see my cock vanish into that hot mouth of yours. Take it out and do it."
Not really needing the order, Jim did as told, opening wide to swallow Blair's hard-on completely in one move. Nose-deep in pubic curls, he sighed, then withdrew slowly, lips clinging, only to quickly drop all the way back down on it again. This time Blair held him in place with a hand on the back of his head, so he was in control of the slow retreat and fast return, adding a sharp thrust of his hips as Jim took in his cock.
Blair didn't try to hold off the climax being pulled so deftly from him; he went with it, wanting that first edge taken off as quickly as possible so he could concentrate on Jim. Not bothering to warn his lover, Blair shoved in hard one last time, fingers locked into Jim's hair to keep him still, and came, grunting quietly at the power of the hard spurts of his seed. For a moment he thought the pleasure would send him to the floor, but he locked his knees and chased after his self-control, not at all ready to give up on his plans.
When he could speak without panting, Blair tugged at a convenient ear. "Stand up - and take the scenic route." With a last loving lick, Jim released Blair's cock, tucked it back into his pants, and slowly got to his feet, spending as much time as possible pulling himself over Blair's leather-covered front.
Catching a glimpse at the fire darkening his lover's eyes, Blair stifled a sweet shiver as his desire started to rise again, and leisurely trailed his fingertips over Jim's shoulders. "Finish undressing," he ordered.
Though Jim clearly had trouble keeping his mind on the task, he got it done and Blair rewarded him by capturing his face between both hands, his complexion shining with golden health against the dark gloves. With smooth, even strokes, he covered every inch of those much-loved features, sparing only Jim's lips. Jim seemed mesmerized by the caress, blindly following each sweep of sensation as if reluctant to let it go.
Twice he tried to catch a finger tip as it came close to his mouth, and twice Blair eluded him, then he moved his hands to the back of Jim's head, getting as good a grip as possible in the short hair there. "Look at me. Open your eyes, slut, and look at me." Jim did as told, and Blair contained a smile at the drugged, dazed look in them. "I don't want to spend the night here at the door. I'm going to wrap my arms and legs around you, and you're going to carefully carry me to the couch, so I can get comfortable. You're going to kneel in front of me, between my legs, once we get there, understood?"
Licking his lips, Jim flicked a glance down Blair's body, then said, "Holding you like that, with all that leather - I might come."
"Be my guest; just don't drop me." Without waiting for another protest or warning, Blair stretched up to circle Jim's neck with his arms, then gave a hard hop, legs winding tightly around Jim's waist as he did. Powerful arms automatically came up to secure him, and Jim groaned as his cock was pressed between them. He took several deep breaths, minute shivers chasing through the skin under Blair's fingertips, telling Blair clearly that Jim was fighting off the need to simply push him against the door and take his relief.
But he took first one step, then another, and finding their balance, swiftly crossed to the couch to deposit Blair on it with so much as a bounce. That done, he sat back on his heels, closed his eyes again, and gripped himself brutally just under the head of his cock to ward off his climax.
"Nicely done. For that you deserve something special," Blair said, perching on the very edge of the couch. He paused, as if thinking, then brushed a knuckle over Jim's lips, enticing them open. Without waiting for an invitation, he plunged two fingers into the wet heat, forcefully finger-fucking Jim's mouth. Moaning, Jim sucked on them eagerly, catching Blair by the wrist in an attempt to take more.
But Blair pulled his hand away, letting the wet leather trail down the center of Jim's chin before attacking a nipple with a sharp pinch. Then he drew a circle with his forefinger around the same nipple, fascinated by how Jim arched into his touch. Curious, he did the same to the other bud, but with a dry finger, to see if there was a difference in response, but Jim just began running his hands over any part of Blair he could reach, massive cock bouncing and jerking as if demanding it be allowed to do the same.
For a moment Blair aided and abetted the demand driving his lover by scrubbing his legs over Jim's outer thighs and backside, then he lifted the hem of his shirt to show the belly band underneath. Relishing the disappointment that flitted over Jim's expression, Blair said, "Take the strap off me, then give it to me. And you've lost your chance to come; now it happens when I permit it, and not before. Understood?"
"You're going to leave on the shirt and the rest?" Though Jim tried to keep his tone neutral, there was an edge of pleading that was music to Blair's ears.
"If you behave yourself. Now, the strap, before I decide to go upstairs alone and do it myself." It was an empty threat, but Blair managed to put enough force behind the words that Jim would believe him, despite the hard-on slowly regaining full length behind its leather barricade.
With shaking hands, Jim carefully undid the simple loop knot that held the bellyband in place, then sensuously stripped it off Blair, daring a quick sniff at it before giving it to him. For a moment Blair just slid the softly worn material through one hand, then the other, not missing that Jim never took his gaze off the slithering movement. He twisted most of the length over his fist, caught the free end in his other hand and pulled the leather strap into a tight line.
"Left wrist," he orderly briskly, then knotted the strap onto the offered limb. Using the rest of the leather as a leash, he pulled Jim's arm behind his back, deliberately leaning into his chest to do so. "Put the right one back here, too." With a few quick loops Blair secured the other wrist, keeping the restraint loose enough that Jim could wriggle free if he really needed to. Taking his time, he slowly sat back, anchoring his legs behind Jim's, and letting his arms and hands glide from back to front as he did.
Leisurely touching himself through his pants, Blair said huskily, "I love seeing you like this; on your knees in front of me, where you belong. I've seen you just about every way one man can see another naked and bound, seen you in every state of arousal that's possible, but this is always going to be my favorite. Head up, back straight, hands tied behind you, cock so big and ready that I could make you come just by looking at it hard enough."
"No chains, no leash, no gag?" Jim asked thickly. "Not your Wild Thing captured, but your own slut, seduced by his own need?"
Purposely sighing in pleasure, Blair arched into his own caress. "Oh, yes. The rest is just... ornamentation. Not needed, but enhancing an already deliciously sexy sight."
Swallowing hard, Jim dropped his head back as if he couldn't bear the sight of Blair arousing himself any longer. "My Own, a cock ring might be a good idea for me, right now."
Sitting up abruptly, Blair said, "I don't think so." As long as Jim's cock was, all he had to do was bend a little to take the crown of it into his mouth, licking at the slit to get all the flavor.
Shouting wordlessly, Jim jerked, trying to bury himself in Blair's mouth, but Blair stopped him with a shove to his hips. Pulling away with an obscene slurp, he ordered sharply, "Stay still. I'm going to suck you dry, but that's for my pleasure, not yours." Not giving him a chance for rebuttal, Blair went back to taking in as much of Jim's huge cock as he could, not really trying to deep-throat it, but honestly enjoying the feel of servicing it so intimately. When he realized he was in danger of distracting himself from his plan by getting lost in giving head, he unwillingly turned his attention back to teasing his lover.
Too late, he realized with a start. From Jim's harsh panting, he was seconds from coming, so Blair cupped his balls in one gloved hand, tightening his lips just under the head of Jim's cock. With a hard throb in his cock that must have been nearly painful, Jim came, thigh muscles trembling with the effort of not fucking as he did. Happily swallowing down his seed, Blair coasted with him through the last throes of release, then hugged Jim to him, legs around his waist again, to soothe him until he recovered.
To Blair's delight, the maleness nudging at his stomach barely softened at all, and Jim swiftly regained his senses, humping and kissing as best he could. Just as Blair shifted, thinking it was time to get to the next step, Jim whispered, "More?"
"Oh, yes. A great deal more," Blair promised. With calculated slowness, he squirmed and wiggled until he was out from under his lover, actually sitting on the back of the couch as Jim laid face down in the cushions. It was a new and interesting perspective, and Blair took a moment to enjoy it, lazily walking his bare feet over Jim's back. Passively Jim accepted the attention, sighing a little and adjusting his position so that his chest took some of his weight off his knees.
Blair turned and stepped over him so that he could sit just above Jim's ass, knees to either side, as if taking horsey ride. Grunting at the extra weight, Jim looked over his shoulder at him in curiosity, but just flexed the fingers that were resting temptingly close to Blair's crotch, as if seeing how much touching he could do. With long, leisurely strokes, Blair re-acquainted himself with every line of his lover's back, from the string of miniature hills and valleys that marked his spine to the upswept curve of his shoulder blades.
As he explored, he scooted farther and father back until he was half-sitting on the coffee table, Jim's ass spread out in front of him like a feast. For several long minutes he kneaded and pummeled those hard cheeks, then dipped down to the backs of Jim's thighs, along the soft, vulnerable inner flesh. Without pausing in his caresses, Blair studied Jim's expression, nodding to himself in satisfaction at the heavy-lidded rapture there. His lover was nearly in a leather-induced zone, all his mind captivated by the sweet caress of the material over hyper-sensitive skin.
Time to pull him back, and do so explosively, Blair decided, reaching under to toy with Jim's balls and test how hard his erection was. Full-mast, but not as big it could get. Thinking he would wait until it was wet with precum again, Blair glided both hands to the swell of Jim's ass and simply left them there for a second. When he felt twitch, as if Jim were wondering why he'd stopped, Blair slapped one ass cheek, hard, leaving behind a red handprint that stood out starkly on the pale of Jim's bottom.
Jim jerked once in response, turning his face into the cushions, but made no move to defend his vulnerable backside. Not really expecting him to, Blair slapped the other cheek just as hard, realizing vaguely that despite how thin the leather gloves were, they cushioned his hand from the impact somewhat. And probably stung Jim that much more.
Mentally noting that he'd have to be careful how hard he spanked, Blair smacked in a different spot, then another, carefully building up an interweaving pattern of red marks. Jim took all the blows stoically, not moving, but bit-by-bit his breathing grew harsher and harsher, and he clenched his fists until his knuckles began to stand out in stark relief. His cock, full and heavy, swung between his thighs, as if begging for a gentler touch, or perhaps any touch at all.
Finally Jim gasped, "Gag. God's sake, a gag before I scare the neighbors into calling the cops."
"I thought you'd never ask," Blair said, stopping the next blow before it could land. "Straighten up."
Jim did as he was told, and Blair stood behind him, astride Jim's lower legs so he could press against his lover's back to help support him, the cool leather of his shirt giving relief to burning flesh. Holding his left hand in front of Jim, just at mouth level, Blair said, "Take it off, using your teeth. And without biting me, either."
For the next few minutes Blair watched, dry-mouthed and heart pounding, as Jim delicately tugged and teased at the tight glove, using tongue and sharp nips from white teeth to remove it. Caught in his own snare, all he could do was wait until Jim made a triumphant noise and snatched it all the way off with a sharp jerk of his head. He put his head back on Blair's chest, grinning around the prize dangling from clenched teeth.
"You could seduce a nun away from her vows just from watching you do that," Blair said hoarsely. With an all-over shake, he forced himself back on track, taking the glove away and folding it over once. "Open."
Clearly surprised, Jim did, eyes widening fractionally as Blair stuffed the glove into his mouth, then used a wide ribbon of leather to keep it there. "There. That ought to keep that suck-hungry hole of yours happy for a while."
Jim made the oddest noise, then leaned back heavily into Blair for a moment, as if begging for more again.
"So much more," Blair murmured, petting Jim's throat and chest. "Time to take this upstairs, I think. But before we do, one... more... thing." As he spoke he knelt behind Jim, hands skimming down to capture Jim's cock. Pillowing his hot face in the cool hollow between shoulder blades, Blair took a simple spring-released cockring from under the couch cushion and put it on his lover. "There."
He stood, taking Jim with him with a nudge, then using the handle Mother Nature had so conveniently provided, he towed his lover upstairs. The many candles set out earlier on every available flat surface, including portions of the floor, were still lit, providing a soft flickering light. Most were fragrance free, except for a few delicately scented with a combination of natural oils that created a smell remarkably like a forest.
The bed had been stripped down to just a single white satin sheet, and two black leather bolsters of differing sizes had been strategically added. The only odd addition to the room was a trapeze style bar hanging suspended from the ceiling over the middle of the bed. Blair led Jim to the foot of the mattress, gave his dick a final loving pat, and pushed him face down over the bolster at the end of the bed, legs spread wide for balance. It put his ass high in the air and at the perfect height for Blair to use while still standing.
Fighting off the urge to use him now, to free his now aching cock and shove his way inside that tight ass, Blair pressed the thumb from his still-gloved hand into Jim's pucker, pleased to find that he had meant exactly what he'd said when he first came home. He was loose enough that Blair *could* just take Jim if he wanted, and the amount of clear lube that oozed out from the minor penetration promised that no matter how roughly Blair plowed in, Jim would take only pleasure from it.
It was tempting; more tempting than Blair had anticipated it would be when he'd planned this. Gingerly he replaced his thumb with two fingers, watching them vanish into Jim's body and hearing a rumbling groan from his lover as he did. For several long, absorbing minutes Blair played, carefully twisting and stretching the guardian ring and probing deeply into the hot channel. Jim reared back as best he could, ecstatic noises spilling from around the edges of his gag.
He added a third finger, though it wasn't necessary to ready Jim. He just wanted to see how much his lover could take; wanted to see if he could approximate for Jim what Blair felt when he took his lover's enormous cock inside himself. He slipped one finger from his other hand in among the leather-covered ones as he buried them in Jim's ass. It was odd feeling for him, but Jim must have loved it. Screaming through the gag, he rocked back so hard that Blair almost lost his balance and had to pull all the invaders away.
Yanking off the soiled glove, he opened his pants, braced both hands on Jim's ass cheeks, and entered him in a single, long, hard shove. Nuts against the quivering muscles of the back of Jim's thighs, he shouted his pleasure, luxuriating in the subtle flex and shimmy of the hot tunnel. Instinct made Blair pull out when all he wanted to do was find a way to get in deeper, and he slammed back in as fast as humanly possible, setting up a hammering pace he knew he couldn't keep.
All too quickly all that he was focused on those few precious inches of flesh, then exploded outward in undeniable ecstasy that shredded his awareness, only to let it drift back, whole and better than before, a few heartbeats later. When his mind cleared, Blair found himself still braced against Jim's ass, mindlessly fighting to find more air in the room, somehow. Slowly straightening, calming his breathing, he smoothed a soothing palm over Jim's back, letting him know that he was back.
To his amazement, Jim bucked under the touch, mewling in a desperation that flogged at Blair's passion. "Need that hole filled again, My Own? Need fucked longer, harder? Until you're raw and sore, and aching? Good, because that's exactly what you're going to get."
Reaching under the edge of the bed, Blair took out the ten-inch vibrator he'd placed there, quickly lubed it, and seated it until it was sticking about halfway out. The base was widely flared to prevent it from going in too far, and had ridges around it every inch or so, both to provide a good grip and an interesting tool to have moving through someone's opening. Blair hated the thing himself, but so far had never had occasion to see if Jim shared that dislike of what the ribs could do to delicate tissues.
Crawling up on the bed, to the relief of his shaking legs, Blair urged Jim into kneeling up and moving, helping to steady him until they were both in the middle of the bed. After making sure Jim was stable, Blair slid off to sit on the edge of the mattress, double-checking the supplies he'd left on the nightstand, and quickly washing himself, then used an alcohol prep pad on his shoulder where it curved into his neck. Peeking over his shoulder to make sure that Jim was too distracted by the toy in his ass to have noticed Blair's brief side trip, he stripped off his pants, palmed another prep pad and rejoined his lover.
It only took him a moment to adjust the smaller of the two bolsters so that it was between Jim's ankles, held there by leather ribbons. Now every time his lover sat back on his heels, the pillow would shove the dildo deeper into him, and every time he straightened, the weight of the toy with its battery would pull it out. It was a minor amount of fucking, but to Jim it would feel like getting fisted, especially in his current condition.
Using the trapeze bar for balance, Blair slowly got to his feet in front of Jim, dragging along every inch of his torso, lingering at nipple level to make sure they got a good dose of leather. Without any coaching, Jim nuzzled at whatever he could reach as Blair went past his face, nosing at the scant covering over Blair's cock as if to push it aside when he was finally standing. Blair allowed it, mildly surprised that his cock was taking interest in the attention, while he surreptitiously cleaned the curve of Jim's shoulder.
Then with a firm hand-hold on the trapeze bar, he went back down, this time as if doing deep-knee bends, letting himself slowly settle onto Jim's cock. Even with the care he'd taken in preparing himself, it felt like sitting on a fucking *wonderful* telephone pole, and by the time Jim was completely sheathed, they were both covered in sweat and panting frantically. Blair was more than half-hard, but clear headed enough to stick to his plan.
With shaking fingers he scraped off the ribbon holding Jim's gag in place, then took out the glove to toss it to the floor beside its mate. Jim hardly noticed; he was trying with everything he had to answer the need to thrust, every muscle in his body straining with the effort. Acknowledging that he had pushed him as far as he safely could, Blair gritted his teeth and hauled himself to his feet again, feeling the absence of Jim's cock with a physical pain.
Keening deep in his chest, Jim struggled to stay inside Blair, but quickly gave it up in favor of licking and sucking at Blair's hard-on when it was close enough. Trying to catch his breath, Blair let him until he thought he could handle sitting again. This time he couldn't go slowly. The need to have Jim in him was too strong, and Jim's desperation was too intoxicating. He stood as quickly, then, barely giving his lover a chance to taste him, sat back down, barely controlling the descent.
Not sure which of them was trembling worse, Blair hesitated, then fumbled to undo the knots holding Jim. "Not yet, not yet," he warned when Jim tried to wrap his arms him.
"My own," Jim groaned, barely understandable. "Hurts."
"I know; we'll fix that real soon. Now stay still for me." Fortifying himself with a lung full of air, Blair stood again, leaning heavily on the trapeze. "Now, take off the cockring." Sighing, he eased his cock away from Jim's mouth, and repeated the order.
Blinking as if he didn't understand why his treat had been taken away from him, Jim stared at Blair for moment, then clumsily clawed at the cockring until he released the catch. Easing it over the nearly purple flesh of his cock took only a second, but it must have been a very painful one to judge by his expression, then he reached for Blair.
"Wait, wait... here I come." Not able to hide his eagerness, Blair lowered himself, trying for slow but settling for not as fast as he wanted. As soon as he was completely seated, he relaxed into Jim, head on his shoulder. "Now, My Own. Now. Take what you need."
With a roar, Jim put him on his back, almost bending him in half as he pounded away at Blair's willing body. It was so good, better than Blair expected, and he could feel another climax fighting to break free of him. Barely hanging onto his control, he drew Jim's head down into the curve of neck. "Bite me," he whispered. "Hard."
Jim did, but not hard enough, and Blair rasped out, "Harder!" Pain splashed over his shoulder, but an odd pain that asked for more, and he demanded, "Harder, damnit, harder!" Skin gave way under the pressure of teeth, blood welling to the surface, and that done, Blair finally surrendered to his own needs, answering each drive of Jim's hips with a sharp thrust of his own, chasing after the explosive release just out of reach.
As if Blair had unknowingly given some subliminal order, Jim somehow picked up speed, warning his lover with a low growl that he was at the point of no return. With the tiniest fragment of his mind, Blair waited until he felt that tiny change in tempo that heralded the first spurt, and ferociously bit Jim in the same place Jim had bitten him. Blood fouled his mouth, but before Blair could react, Jim howled, changed angle so that every stroke of his cock slammed against the sweet spot inside Blair, and came, the heat of his essence all but burning the fragile channel taking it.
It was more than Blair could take, and he shuddered hard into climax, body trying uselessly to produce more seed. Ecstasy racked through him, knocking conscious thought far, far away, leaving him adrift in sensation that demanded nothing of him but pleasant lassitude.
When Blair finally found his way back to the land of solid flesh and bone, Jim had turned them to their sides so they could cuddle and breathe at the same time, and was tentatively exploring the wound on Blair's shoulder. Brushing hair out of his eyes, Blair returned the favor. "Ouch, that looks deep."
"About the same as what I did to you." Jim leaned back enough to be able to see into Blair's face. "It's going to scar, but that's what you wanted, wasn't it?"
"And I had to drive you out of your mind to override the instinct that won't let you hurt me," Blair obliquely confirmed. At Jim's frown, he added, "I wanted something permanent, but tattoos and piercings are done by other people. That left scarring, and despite the chance of infection, a bite was the most... I don't know, intimate? Personal?" He shrugged and reached for the supplies on the nightstand.
"Let me." Not frowning, but clearly deep in thought, Jim tended to Blair's injury. "Like the scratches," he said finally, patting antibiotic cream where needed. "Somebody else looks at them and thinks, wow, he must have had some wildcat in his bed. I look at them, and all I can think of is you."
"Yeah, like that." Blair took the tube of cream away and started his own ministrations. "I'm sorry I took so long to decide what I wanted. You were getting worried that I'd changed my mind completely, weren't you?"
"My heart," Jim said quietly, not quite meeting Blair's gaze, "Knew better. But my head keep telling me that you'd gotten the final proof of how much I needed you and that you'd leave, now."
"Damn." Blair hugged Jim tightly, peppering kisses on his face. "I never even... damn, damn. Thank god you listened to your heart."
"I love you; I didn't have much choice."
"That was what you were hiding from me," Blair said, frantically trying to make up for his misunderstanding with gentle touches.
With a snort, Jim said, "Not too well. Half of Major Crimes thinks we've had a fight and are about to break up, and that I'm heartbroken over it."
"Explains a few things," Blair muttered to himself, then kissed Jim properly, halfway wishing they could make love again that very second. "Pity we couldn't invite them to a wedding so they would know everything's okay."
"I'll go back to tearing everyone a new one any time something goes wrong," Jim said. "Just as good."
Despite the painful side of that, it was also the truth and Blair couldn't help but snicker.
Jim leaned up on one elbow and grinned, mischief pouring out of every pore. "Since you got to do the 'wedding' so to speak, does this mean I get to be in charge of the honeymoon?"
"Honeymoon?" Blair studied his mate warily, noting the fire that had been banked to embers, but was still burning in those beautiful eyes. Slowly he smiled, a million different things fitting into permanent places in his heart and soul. "Right. You get to handle the honeymoon."
Jim's grin widened until it could only be a considered an evil leer, leaving Blair to wonder just what his lover had in mind - and how long Blair would have to wait before he did it.
"I feel like some giant mutant bug trying to escape its cocoon," Blair complained laughingly, pushing against the light muslin gauze surrounding he and Jim with the back of his head. Giving up, he snuggled down against Jim's chest, idly nuzzling. "Of course, Lady Thea could be trying to create that image on purpose. You know, symbolic transformation, Jim and Blair into a married couple. That's what honeymoons are for, really."
"Chief, if you're thinking about the symbolic significance of being tied to me, zipped into a sack, and left in a hammock, then the honeymoon is over before it begins." Jim's tone was sour, but just barely. Blair was willing to bet that he didn't really care what the topic of conversation was as long as Blair kept talking around the nipple that he had latched onto.
That in mind, he said, "Putting us in the hammock is obviously meant to represent the trials and tribulations that accompany such a transformation."
"As if we haven't had enough of those just getting to this point," Jim muttered, upper arms flexing experimentally as he tested the strength of the bonds holding his wrists just above the swell of Blair's backside. "I don't need the threat of being dumped on my near-naked ass on the cold, rocky ground to know that.
Completely ignoring the comment, but not the interesting sensations created by the attempt to get free, Blair went on. "And the way we're tied is because if we want to have mind-altering, ball-draining sex, we're going to have to cooperate to get free, cooperation, of course, being the lesson we're supposed to learn about our future life together."
"Mmm, hmmm." Jim must have picked up something from his first try. He flexed a different set of muscles, this time in his upper chest, and filled his hands with Blair's ass cheeks. "Much better."
"Uh!" Blair closed his eyes as a single finger delved along the crease of his bottom. "Yeah." Valiantly he pulled his thoughts together. "I'm not sure why muslin gauze, except that we can see out almost as if it isn't there, but no one can see us. Maybe a shadow of flesh and movement, but that's about it... uh!... could be to represent how others see our marriage... ah!"
Slipping his finger around the edge of Blair's opening again, Jim muttered in disinterest, "Or it could be because she knows I like showing you off - without actually letting anybody see anything. Slide up a few inches, and pull your wrists as far apart as you can, will you?"
"Why... oh! Yeah... I think I can get some traction against the cords on your ankles if I... got it." Blair caught his breath and pushed back against the finger teasing him, the scrambled after the lecturing tone he'd been using. "There is that; and it would explain... God!... why outside, too."
"Mmm. Can you turn to your side a little; yeah, just like that."
"The oil she had us, um, strategically use, is Amaretto scented...."
"And flavored." Jim nosed at Blair's cheek, found his earlobe and dabbed the tip of his tongue onto. "Definitely flavored."
Tilting his head to allow better access to his ear, Blair mumbled. "Amaretto scented and flavored. Amaretto, from the Italian word 'love,' so she's saying love can ease the way for us when we have problems, and damn it, it's too slippery, I can't get enough traction to do anything."
"Try drawing your knees up the outside of my legs, as far as the cords will let you, then dig in with your toes into the mesh of the hammock."
"Like that?"
Jim groaned his answer, cock throbbing dangerously where it was sandwiched between them. Blair hitched up another few inches, then slid back down, creating a delicious slow motion humping that was more teasing than it was satisfying. Remembering he was supposed to be lecturing, he stopped, grabbed after whatever it was he had planned on saying, couldn't find it, and went back to gliding over Jim.
Maddeningly, Jim tightened his arms around him to stop all motion. "Or it could be she just wanted us to have fun, you know."
Grinning up at him, Blair said, "That too. You know, I think I can squirm down far enough to give you a blow job."
"That's cheating, and believe you me, you do *not* want Lady Thea to catch us cheating. We're supposed to get off together, remember?"
"Good point," Blair said distractedly, digging in with a knee to see if he could get any leverage there. "And another thing you could say we're supposed to get out of this. Self-sacrifice has its uses, but... oh, god, please do that again."
"This?"
"Uhhh! Just... yeah!"
"I'll keep that up if you'll keep...uh!... yeah, just like...."
"Love you, Jim. Love you."
"Love you, Blair. Always."
finis