"Jim, I *really* don't understand why we had to come back here." Blair looked at the gallery and its destruction, trying to imagine why anyone would destroy art - no matter what their opinion of its subject matter. And even from the fragments it was obvious the stuff in here was *good*. "Simon thinks it's a hate crime, part of the hits on the gay clubs."

Nodding absently, Jim focused his sight, trying to see what it was that had brought him back, hours later. "I don't know, Chief. Something just doesn't fit."

He picked his way carefully through the debris, studying everything. Blair watched him for a moment, then turned his attention to the few pieces that survived the attack. A black and white photograph of arms and legs of differing shades and races, layered over each other in a way that reminded him of clouds, caught his eye. Idly, he wondered how Jim would see this photo, and he turned to him with the thought of calling him over.

Oh, man, Zone out. The Sentinel was on one knee, frozen in the act of righting a statue. "Jim! Come on, Jim." he started coaxing, even as he picked his way through to kneel beside the still man. "Come on Big Guy, if you stay in that position too long, your knees will hate you in the morning. Come on," he continued in even, calm tones, despite his mind racing ahead - what caught him - sight, sound...

Startled, he realized it must be touch. Even zoned, Jim's fingers lightly stroked and caressed the statue he held.

Carefully Blair slid his hands under Jim's and gently tugged the figure free. Ellison caught at Blair's wrists, but his eyes cleared a split second later, and he half smiled. "Sorry." He gestured at the artwork, an odd emotion flitting over his face as he did. "Someone put a lot of care and effort into this, someone with a very sensitive touch."

Blair stared for a minute at his partner, trying to define what he thought he saw, then turned to study the statue when Jim raised a finger to trace a line of it. It was carved from wood, two interlocking pieces, one a lighter shade of the other, and polished to satin. Two stylized male figures, one obviously larger than the other, were intertwined in a lover's embrace. The larger was sheltering over the smaller, but it was plain the smaller was the support that gave that shelter strength.

"Wow. This is worth a zone out. " Blair ran a thumb down one flank, "Is it as smooth to your touch?"

Jim's hand covered his, his thumb guiding Blair's. "Not just texture. Feel the way the wood flows into each contour, each curve..." Blair stared down at their hands, feeling not just the wood slide under his fingers, but his heart pick up speed and force in his chest. The movement over the statue became a caress, and for one moment, he wondered what Jim's hand would feel like, moving over his skin like that.

He looked up into Jim's face, and saw his thought in Jim's eyes.

"This could almost have been made for a Sentinel, look at the colors, the way it fits together, I bet it even smells..." Blair knew he was babbling, but he had to break away, get some space between him and the other man.

Jim's attention shifted suddenly, away from his Guide. "Smells. That's what wrong, " he muttered. He stood abruptly and began quartering the room, sniffing as he went.

A shudder worked its way through Sandburg, despite his best attempt to stop it. That was *way* too intense. And Jim walked away from it far too easily. But for now, "I can just hear you explaining this to Simon now, Jim. What is wrong with the way this smells?"
 
 

Giving up, Blair untangled himself from the sheets, and stood to go out onto the balcony. There was no point in even trying; he knew he wasn't going to sleep - again - and there were better things to do than stare at the ceiling or toss and turn. He didn't bother to dress, wanting to feel the night air on his skin.

The moonlight had silvered the world, making magical the ordinary. Even his skin looked different, luminescent. For the umpteenth time, he saw the statue from the trashed gallery, saw the blonde wood as his skin, saw a hand cover his.

He wasn't at all surprised to feel the warmth of his roommate behind him, though he hadn't heard a thing.

"What it is that bothers you, Chief?" The warmth pressed close, barely touching, but enough for him to feel the heat of Jim's excitement. "This?" A feather light brush over his own heat. "Or this?"

This first touch made Blair straighten, back straight and tense. The second made him close his eyes and drop his head back to rest on the strength waiting for him.

"This is just so *not* us. I've never even, I mean..." Blair whispered.

The chuckle was so soft, he nearly missed it, but it tickled past his ear, catching his attention on the way and sending shivers ahead of it. "Not even the usual kid stuff, you know, goofing around?"

Blair answered with only a bit of a smile, and "Usual kid stuff - I was never your average kid, you know. You?" The last was very serious.

"Chief, even when I was a kid, I was so straight, you could have used me for a line-of-sight. And to answer the next question, I don't know why, Blair. I just know that somewhere along the way I learned to hear your heartbeat, even when I sleep. I can find your scent in a perfume factory, would know your touch even if I were deaf and blind."

The taller man carefully raised his hands, not quite touching the terribly tense shoulders in front of him. "It was such a small step to admitting that I *needed* to have those things - *your* touch, *your scent* - *you*." Jim let his fingers trail ever so carefully, ever so lightly over Blair's collarbones. "You barged into my life, into my job, into my loft, you kept getting closer and closer."

The maddeningly light touch drifted down the outside of arms, dipping ever so slightly into the crook of the elbow. "I think I knew the first time I couldn't sleep because I couldn't hear your breathing, your heartbeat, that you had barged into my heart."

Fingertip touch on the knuckles of very tightly clenched fists, petting, soothing. "How many times have you trusted me - trusted me to be there, trusted me to do what was right, trusted me with you life? How could I help but hope that someday you would trust me with your heart?"

The light touch began to glide back up the arms, a little faster than its descent, to swirl in abstract patterns over the upper chest. "I wasn't sure that you would ever, ever, feel anything but friendship, or the deeper friendship of partners."

Still the lightest of touches, just past tickling, just short of a sure stroke, moved down, silently numbering ribs, smoothing down to the hip, then stopping, hands moving completely away, warm strength eased away. "And if that is all you want, Blair, all you can give me, I swear it will be enough. I will never ask or hint for more; never bring this up again, even by look or touch."

Against his will, Blair emitted a gasp of loss, but said nothing, just wrapped his arms around himself and dropped his chin to his chest, eyes still closed. He didn't need to look to see Jim still standing behind him, jaw clenched, that muscle jumping. He didn't need to ask why the older man had backed away. It had to be his decision, without being able to fall back on claims of being seduced, or being carried away by the moment. For Jim, for him, this could not be casual. His decision. There was one thing he needed to know, though.

"Jim, why haven't you kissed me?" He wasn't even sure why he needed to know that.

It took a moment, and the answer seemed torn from Jim. "I don't think I could stop if I did." he admitted hoarsely.

Blair began shaking at Jim's admission, and blindly reached back, to have his hand caught before he could even finish the gesture. He drew Jim back to him, and found himself wrapped so tightly in Jim's arms that he couldn't tell where his back ended and Jim's chest began. His own arms were more loosely wrapped about himself, with his hands held captive by Jim's.

They stood like that, trying to breathe, trying to calm down, but all Blair could think of was "This should feel weird. Why doesn't this feel weird?"

He must have said it aloud, or maybe Jim heard it through their skin, because Jim nuzzled his hair, and answered, "It feels like breathing."

UH?

"You know, natural." He nuzzled closer to an ear. "Necessary."

Blair moaned. Pleasure close to the point of pain spiked through him, leaving twinges of sensation behind. He felt the hardness against him throb, felt his own throb in answer, and wildly wondered if he was going to lose it before they even did anything. He didn't even know what he wanted - didn't know how to ask.

Behind him, Jim struggled with himself. Most of all he wanted the taste of Blair's mouth. Sight, sound, even smell was public, easily knowable about someone. Even touch wasn't impossible. There were a thousand perfectly acceptable excuses between friends, especially partners, and he honestly thought he'd used them all the past few months. But taste -that was a gift to be given, an intimacy he craved with intensity so dangerous, he knew he couldn't give into it now.

His Guide was too uncertain, teetering on the edge of his limits, and he wasn't going to push him, damnit! It was obvious he was going to have to do something though.

Blair had his head leaning back onto *his* chest, throat exposed, lips slightly open with panting *do not think about that! DONOT THINK ABOUT THAT* his hair creating a crazy-quilt of sensation - silk, tickle, heavy, warm, brush across a nipple, gods.

Carefully Jim began to move one hand down Blair's torso, (sweat slick, sweet glide) giving the younger man plenty of time to protest or move away, then brushed the erection he found on his journey with the edge his fingernails, too afraid of his reaction to the feel of it on his fingertips to do more. Blair moaned again, (hot, hot sound, better than the pants, quick heartbeats) and moved his hips, instinctively searching for a firmer touch. (Scent so strong now, so Blair, filling his head).

Shaking with effort, concentrating on holding both of them up, trying not to become overwhelmed with his own senses, Jim stroked from tip to base, just two fingers. "Jim!" a gasp. Again, just from tip to base, but three fingers. "Jim!" A shout. Firmly encircled, now, down and back, "JIM!" a scream, then thick liquid pearled over his hand with heat, and he collapsed somehow careful enough to bring Blair down with him in comfort, winding up on his knees with Blair draped across his lap, half turned toward him.

Limply, Blair laid against Jim, breathing heavily, knowing he should say or do something, but not certain what. He felt shattered, not just with the strength of his pleasure, but with the knowledge of who gave it to him. At least Jim seemed happy just to hold him, even though he was obviously very aroused.

Jim was petting him like he was memorizing each individual molecule, one hand tangled deeply in his hair - man, he always *knew* there was a reason he liked to wear it long - the other wandering randomly over him. Jim had his eyes closed, head bent to the top of his own so that, if he thought about it hard enough, he could feel the movement of Jim's breath over his scalp. Blair studied his ..lover... for a moment, then smiled widely.

He brought his hand up to cup Jim's jaw lightly, whispering a thumb over tightly held lips as he did. Eyelids flew up, showing eyes filled with blue-hot fire, and holding those flames with his own smoky blues, Blair raised himself until his lips could touch Jim's. He lowered his gaze, seeing how his target had softened, opening slightly in anticipation, then closed his eyes again to focus on the kiss he wanted to give.

Jim stopped breathing - well, he didn't really need to do that right now, anyway, did he - and Blair settled his mouth over Jim's. It was just the most careful of caresses at first, getting use to unfamiliar territory, then he dipped his tongue past Jim's lips, and he could almost feel something give way inside the bigger man.

With a strangled sound, Jim quickly deepened the kiss, and Blair went with it, stroking and exploring with his tongue as he felt himself lowered onto the floor, and Jim covered him. He felt a momentary pang, not quite fear, but forgot it as Jim abruptly tore his mouth away, and screamed. He felt wet heat on his stomach, then a touch of awe. Little groans told him that Jim's need was still pulsing, and they hadn't done anything beyond kissing.

Jim drew himself into a crouch, keeping his weight on his forearms that lay on either side of Blair's head, and on his knees, but not moving away from body to body contact. Blair brought his hands up to stroke Jim's back, waiting for the harsh breathing to subside a little, enjoying the weight of Jim's forehead pressing against his chest.

What was it Jim had said a few minutes (?!!) ago. As natural and necessary as breathing... Being with Jim, especially close and comfortable like this, yes, definitely natural.

"Who the hell needs to breathe anyway, Chief? I can see it becoming a hobby compared to this," Jim muttered.

Blair tugged on Jim's ears until the big man lifted his head to look down into Blair's face. "That's twice you've done that. Big Guy, if you are adding a sixth sense to your already hyper five, you are going to, like, *totally* mess up my dissertation!"

The End