Having an epiphany while up to the elbows in soapy dishwater might not be the most common of experiences, but Blair had long since become accustomed to having the weird and unexpected drop in on him unannounced. On the other hand, washing dishes gave the hands something to do while letting the brain run amuck, and for once Blair didn't have anything more pressing on his mind than how pleasant dinner had been. Jim had cooked a light dinner of grilled fresh tuna, seasoned rice and salad, and the conversation had been carefree, without any hint of the job or anything more serious than how the Jags were doing.
It was, in fact, better than many dates that Blair had been on in his life, and when that thought fully formed in his head, he glanced at Jim, sitting at the table, reading through the Morrison file in search for yet another nail for that smug bastard's coffin. The scene was just so damned domestic! And comfortable and precious and a thousand other things that Blair had always vaguely associated with being happily and thoroughly married.
That was when the proverbial light bulb went off, and he put the grilling pan in the sink to soak, picked up a dishrag to dry his hands, and stalked over to where Jim sat. Pushing aside the file and taking a sheet of paper from his partner's hand to tuck inside it, Blair sat on the table directly in front of Jim, legs on either side of his, and put his hands on his shoulders.
"Why aren't we lovers?" Blair asked bluntly. "And don't give me any crap, okay? I know you're not as straight as you let people think, and you know I've never considered myself anything but bi. Don't tell me you're not attracted to me, either. We both played that game when we first met; you were checking me out just as much I was checking you out. Don't try the whole gay cop thing – half the station already thinks we're doing each other on a regular basis, despite both of us dating women on a nearly frenzied basis. We're so married to each other that people expect to find monogrammed his and his towels in our bathroom - *our* bathroom, Jim. So why aren't we doing the deed? Getting down and dirty? Banging each other to heaven? Or whatever macho euphemism you would prefer to use."
For one moment Jim simply stared at him, face expressionless and eyes more shuttered than Blair could remember seeing them before – even the first time they met. Then, jaw muscle jumping frenetically, he looked away, a long breath escaping from flared nostrils as he fought some emotion that Blair couldn't even begin to guess at. "You're not going to leave this alone, are you? Even if I tell you that my answer could hurt our friendship, maybe even destroy it."
"After all this time, you *still* don't have enough faith in me?" Blair said tiredly, bitterness beginning to well up.
Putting both hands on Blair's thighs, Jim leaned forward. "NO! That's not it! Fuck, I'm damned if I do and damned if I don't, aren't I?"
"Only in your own mind." Blair shook his head, wishing for the first time he knew who he really had to blame for the scarred, damaged mess that was Jim Ellison's heart. "Whatever the problem is, I *can* handle it and I don't see how telling me could do any more harm than keeping me in the dark."
The hands on Blair's thighs slowly tightened to fists, but that was the only reaction Jim gave as he considered. Finally, he said in a completely empty voice, "I'm a sexual deviant."
Whatever Blair had expected to hear, that wasn't it. "As in homosexual, as opposed to bi?" he asked uncertainly.
"As in departing from the established sexual norm for an adult bisexual male," Jim said in the same emotionless monotone. "As in what usually gets other men turned on doesn't work for me."
Sucking in a huge lung full of air, Blair said very, very carefully, "You being you – I take it we're not discussing rape or pedophilia here. You'd kill yourself before you'd hurt other people like that. So whatever it is, you've been controlling it really, really, *really* well. I mean, you were married and I've never heard a word of complaint from the women you date...."
"It's not so bad that I can't get it up, at least, not at first. There's a lot of excitement from being new to each other, and the hope that maybe she'll want what I need helps." A hint of something - regret, possibly – touched Jim's eyes. "With Caro, I was in serious denial. Pretending to myself that fantasies and love would be enough. By the end, though, I was sleeping on the couch and touching her only when she insisted on it. I can't blame her for divorcing me."
"Always wondered why you put up with her constant barbs," Blair muttered, more to himself than Jim.
Jim shrugged and said, "She was entitled. She's also the reason I haven't been willing to make a pass at you; the last thing I want is for us to turn out like that. Or worse."
Blair knew what the 'or worse,' was and for the life of him couldn't promise that he wouldn't run if their life together went to hell. That slowed him down, making him think hard and deep, but in the end all he could do was what he did best: research for more information. "Will you tell me what it is specifically that you need? I need more to work with before I can really process all this."
"I don't suppose you could spare me the humiliation of actually spelling out the details?" Jim asked dryly.
"If this need is hard-wired into you, Jim, you've got nothing to be ashamed of, and I would never, ever, say or do anything that might make you feel that way." Blair waited patiently, letting his calm acceptance get through to Jim the way it had many times before, vaguely wondering why the necessity of doing that had never troubled him.
For a moment Jim's gaze flitted around restlessly, unable to settle on Blair or anything else. It finally found a non-existent spot in between the loft and infinity, and he said, "I've never tried to put this into words; it doesn't have a handy label like pedophilia does. I guess on the surface you could call it Dominance/submissive, but I don't want a slave or a pet or anything like that. Outside of the bedroom, I want exactly what we've got; a relationship of equals, where you feel perfectly comfortable getting in my face and telling me when I'm being an asshole, personally or on the job." He fell silent, obviously troubled and unsure of what to say next.
"But in the bedroom, you need to be completely in charge?" Blair prompted gently.
"No ropes or chains or whippings; nothing like that. And you'd always have the right to say 'no' or 'stop,' of course. Just, just – look, as a 'for instance' I'd expect you to never touch yourself sexually again without my specific permission. No jacking off, just to relieve a little pressure, no stroking yourself to tease me into wanting you. You'd handle yourself for hygiene purposes only because that part of you would be *mine.* Completely."
"Huh!" Blair said with some surprise. Thinking it through, he asked, "And if I disobeyed?"
Shrugging again, this time with his expression, Jim said, "Then nothing. But if you do it often enough I start sleeping on the couch, probably wondering why I ever risked becoming your lover."
Still thinking it through, Blair asked, "Can you give me another example?"
With a furtive lick to his lips, Jim said slowly, "When we make love, I wouldn't always let you come. And sometimes I wouldn't come myself. For me, knowing that you're wanting it, half-hard with needing me inside you, is, is, is.... more than arousing." He sat up very straight, as if reining in his self-control, and Blair wondered how much of it Jim needed to keep from adjusting the prominent bulge that was in his pants.
"You'd expect me to always bottom," Blair said dubiously.
"No, not at all. I'd *love* to bend over for you, let you pound at me until we were both raw. Shit." Jim took a deep breath and gave in, putting one hand in his lap to cover his hard-on. "Sorry. It's just that you wouldn't necessarily get to when you wanted it that way; I'd have the only say."
Another time, another place and Blair might have slid down to his knees to see exactly what was hidden under that hand, but despite the sharp tugs of need in his middle, he eased away from the table until he was standing beside Jim. "First things first, don't freak on me, okay? Don't assume I'm moving out as soon as I can pack or that I'm so disgusted with you that I can stand to be near you. Got it?"
Jim nodded once, sharply, the arousal that had been in his expression dying almost instantly.
"Secondly, I have *not* given up on being your lover. But you've given me a lot to think through, and it's not going to happen over night. I guess the important question is can you still be my friend and partner if I do decide that's all we can have?" Blair was truly worried about that. It wouldn't be far off from Jim's usual mode of operation to decide that a clean break might be best, now that Blair knew this secret.
"It might even be easier now," Jim said in resignation.
"Yeah, no more jokes about the train wreck of your love-life." Hands in his hair, Blair backed off another step. "Talk about cruel."
"Don't worry, Sandburg. You'll find something else to razz me about." Jim offered a feeble smile with the attempt at humor, and Blair gave one back before fleeing to his room, half-erect and completely terrified.
* * *
Three weeks later, nothing between them was different, to Blair's immense relief. They still did the job, hung out together, went on dates, argued over whose turn it was to cook dinner or shop, and generally lived the life he'd learned to cherish. The only change was a small one; one that he hadn't told Jim about because he wanted a chance to see what would happen before telling him.
Small as it was, it had a major impact on Blair libido, telling him in no uncertain terms that at least a part of him wanted Jim no matter what. His dreams became filled with erotic images of the two of them together, doing things he had never fully admitted to himself that he wanted. It wasn't enough to convince him to jump in and hope for the best, though, so he held off, trying hard to do what was right for both of them.
Finally, after a week of a practically non-stop hard-on, he admitted that he needed to know more before he could make a decision, one way or the other, that he could live with. Taking his life in his hands, Blair waited one night until Jim seemed settled on the couch for the evening and went to stand by him, hands tucked in his pockets to keep them from fluttering nervously.
"Uh, Jim?"
Distracted by the tube, Jim said, "Yeah, what is it?"
Taking a deep breath, Blair said in an nearly inaudible rush, "CouldIhavepermissiontomasturbateplease."
With a sharp jerk, Jim twisted to stare at him, jaw hanging open. "What?" he spluttered after a moment.
With the first burst of embarrassment over, Blair said levelly, "I had to see if I could do what you wanted, just because you wanted it, so I decided to stop jerking off, because you said that would be something you expected. I haven't let any of my dates touch me, either, though I, um, made them happy a couple of times."
"Damnit, Sandburg, I didn't ask...."
"No, you didn't," Blair interrupted. "My idea, completely. I *want* to give you what you need. I just don't know yet if I can, and this was the only way I could think of to, I don't know, experiment? Take a trial run? Try it on for size? Is that so unreasonable? Or too much to ask?"
"God!" Jim put both feet on the floor and buried his face in his hands. "God." He looked up, glaring balefully at Blair. "Do you have any idea what the idea of that does to me?"
"You can't possibly be any more sexually frustrated right now than I am," Blair said grimly. "I *hurt.*"
"Welcome to the club," Jim muttered.
"Then let's give each other a helping hand here."
"You don't understand." Jim got up and began pacing, putting the couch between him and Blair. "I've been hurting for you for years. I touch you, it's over, one way or the other. It's not something I can experiment with."
Shocked, Blair repeated disbelievingly, "Years?"
"Almost from the first." Jim ground to stop in front of him, leaning in close enough that he could have kissed Blair's temple. Taking a deep sniff, he muttered, "Damn, the things your scent makes me want to do to you, especially when you're hot and bothered. Doesn't matter over who, just that you want it." With a visible effort, Jim made himself pull away and go back to pacing.
"And you never..."
"No, I never, and I shouldn't now." He stopped again, ran a hand over his head, then added reluctantly, "But I can't pass up the chance we might be able to make this work. I'd spend the rest of my life wondering if you'd fit me as perfectly in the bedroom as you do every where else."
For a moment all Blair could do was stand and stare at him, then he said with a pained smile, "You know, you have a way of dropping important information as if you were talking about what's for dinner. One of these days I'm going to deck you for it."
"Huh, what?"
"Never mind, never mind." Blair crossed the distance between them, feeling more determined than he ever had before. "So are you going to give me permission or not?"
With a calm control settling over him like a cloak, Jim said, "Yes, if you'll do in front of me."
"I thought you said..."
"I'm not going to touch you, but putting a door between us is essentially useless for privacy, anyway. I'd never be able to block it out so you might as well let me watch."
The logic was hard to argue with, and much to Blair's surprise, he didn't really want to. He'd done the same for other lovers, in different circumstances maybe, but it was the same basic idea. "So how exactly do you want to do this? Bedroom, couch, what?"
"Take yourself out of your pants right now and take care of it." Jim leaned on one of the supports to the loft, arms crossed over his chest, the very image of nonchalance. Only the tented front of his jeans gave him away, but he didn't seem to notice or care. "Fast and dirty, no teasing."
"OOookay." It was actually a relief to undo his pants, and Blair couldn't stifle a sigh as he took his dick in hand. Acutely aware of the senses trained on him, finding that unbelievable erotic, he stroked himself to full hardness within moments.
"Not going to take long, is it?" Jim murmured.
"Hasn't felt this good since I was a kid," Blair said distractedly, the demands of his body beginning to cloud his mind.
"Do it a lot, then?" Jim's voice was so soft, sounding almost as if he were speaking directly into Blair's ear.
"Every day, twice when I could." A climax was already tightening in Blair's middle, digging into his groin, and he began to fuck into his hand, hips pumping in short, sharp jabs.
"Use anything to help you along? Playboy centerfold, porn books?" Jim whispered, drifting closer to Blair so he really could breathe the words past his ear.
"Uh, uh... no, never needed... all in my... Jim!" Panting, Blair closed his eyes and tilted his head all the way back, lost in his own pleasure.
"That's it, Blair, that's it. Come now. Come!"
As if that was what he'd been waiting for, Blair did as ordered, locking his knees against the shock of ecstasy that slammed through him, spinning him beyond reality and into a bliss that was too short-lived. All too soon he was back in his own head, barely standing on shaking legs. "Man, I gotta sit."
A kitchen chair appeared nearly instantly, and he sank into it, trying to catch his breath. "Damn. On a scale of one through ten, that was a forty," he muttered. "And you didn't even touch me."
"It gets better," Jim all but purred, his lips so close to Blair that he was nearly kissing the right earlobe. "Ever pass out from coming? Or shot over and over again until your balls ache, all from one climax?"
"You think you can make it that good for me?" Blair asked, already half-convinced he could.
"I know I can," Jim promised silkily. He backed away, expression neutral. "You'd probably like a shower to clean up. See you in the morning?"
"Uh..." The change was too fast for Blair, and he mentally scrambled to catch up. "You going up already?"
"Thought I'd take a run, then shower," Jim said casually, already heading for the door. "Back in a bit."
Blair stared blankly at the door as it shut, then he shook all over, like a dog shedding water. "You're not going to beat off, too? You're just going to let the pressure build until I make up my mind?" he asked the fast retreating sentinel, knowing full well Jim would hear. The idea sent a sharp stab of new lust through him, and he added, "Damn. I should have asked you to let me do it twice."
* * *
The next evening Blair spun through the door after his partner, slamming it shut and leaning on it as if expecting visitors to crash through it. Feeling as if he were lit up like Las Vegas, Blair crowed, "Did you see how we worked together today? How perfectly we meshed, yin and yang so completely in sync that we could have juggled knives between us and not gotten a nick."
"That's exaggerating a bit," Jim said mildly, eyes laughing.
"Not by much. Man! I catch a flicker of motion out of the corner of my eye, and you're moving, gun out, before I even *think* to say 'shooter.' He never knew what hit him." Trying hard not to hurl himself around the room like a guided missile on speed, Blair pushed himself harder into the wood behind him. "It was fantastic!"
"Partners are supposed to be that in tune with each other," Jim said mildly, hanging up his jacket, then heading toward the kitchen to start dinner.
"We've been close to that, real close, but Jim, admit it, today it was damn near telepathy." Suddenly catching sight of the small smirk at the corner of Jim's lips, Blair said accusingly, "You know I'm right. And you were expecting it, weren't you? Because of last night."
"You didn't?"
That pulled Blair up short. In a way, he had, though he *hadn't* thought it through yet because he'd been so wrapped up in the incredible pleasure he'd experienced. Sex upped the level of trust; the higher the trust, the better partners worked together. Jim knew that, practically instinctively, just as they both knew the reverse; the less trust, the more likely disaster of one type or another was.
"Wow," he said softly.
The energy that had been burning through his body turned inward, sending his mind racing, and he wandered away from the door, automatically going through the steps of getting ready for dinner. The meal was quiet, though Jim didn't seem to mind. When it was done and the kitchen cleared, Blair stopped Jim on his way to the remote to turn on the game with a careful hand on the upper arm.
"More? Please? I know it's hard for you to let me work my way through this using sex, but it's the only way I'll *know.*"
"Blair," Jim started warningly.
"I swear, I *swear* I'm not going to drag this out forever." Releasing his hold, Blair stepped closer, not quite invading Jim's personal space. "I know what it's doing to you, honest. It hurts me that you're hurting, but I have to be sure of what I want. The scary part is that I'm beginning to think it's the same thing you do."
Something flickered through Jim's eyes then that Blair couldn't read, but before he could question it, Jim said quietly, "Once more, that's all. And I'm going to take it as far as I can, give you a real taste of what you can expect for the rest of your life if you give yourself to me."
Blair could have creamed in his jeans at the promise, both of relief and of what the future might hold for him. "Now?"
Nodding, Jim said, "Go clean up, then come back out here. Don't bother with a robe or a towel."
Heart pounding with an anticipation that didn't fade in the least, Blair hurried to the bathroom and showered, keeping sentinel senses in mind as he washed. When he was practically antiseptically scrubbed, he went back into the living room, fighting the urge to cover his nakedness. Jim had turned off all the lights and lit candles, along with a fire, though the evening wasn't really that cool. The uncertain light of flames changed the room from familiar and normal to secluded and intimate, the near promise of shadows making it easier to be nude when Jim was still fully dressed.
Blair hesitated for a moment, then asked, "Same as last night?"
"No, I want to look you over," Jim said, his voice thick and rough. "Lean on that chair I put by the fireplace, legs spread, head down, eyes closed."
Keeping steady on his feet was an act of pure will, but Blair positioned himself the way Jim wanted, trying to use his ears to keep track of what he was doing. As if inspecting a prime animal, Jim prowled around him, never touching, but moving so close that Blair was willing to swear he could feel the occasional brush of fabric. It should have made him nervous, or uneasy, but the close scrutiny was sexy, somehow, making Blair wish he could preen or pose, to show off better.
Not that Jim seemed to need that. "Nice," he murmured over and over, never saying what it was that he found pleasing. Finally he said, "Arch your back a little so that your nipple ring stands out a bit more. Yeah, like that. Definitely a good look for you; if you were mine, I'd have the other one pierced so that I could link them with a hanging chain. Then when I took you on your hands and knees, the weight of the chain swinging would be as good as me sucking or tugging on them."
Blair moaned, imagining how good that would be. "I'd like that, I think."
"They're sensitive? Ever come from having your nipples loved and teased?"
Wanting very much to squirm, Blair admitted, "I get too hot to let it go on that long."
"That wouldn't be an issue if I were the one tormenting them," Jim said flatly, almost as if in warning. "Bend all the way over, now, and spread your ass cheeks."
That was harder to do, but Blair took a deep breath and obeyed, his stomach quivering with an unruly mix of lust and reticence. His cock, hard for what seemed like forever, hung heavy between his thighs, the balls drawn up tight against it, aching with their load. He would have given anything to know the right thing to say, the right promise to make to coax Jim into touching him, this once, but he'd given his word, and he braced himself to wait Jim out.
"You've had cock up you, right?" Jim asked, almost conversationally.
"Yeah, off and on since I was sixteen."
"What's the biggest you've had in you?"
"Uh, average, I guess. Seven, maybe eight inches." Blair swallowed hard, finding the intimate questions oddly thrilling.
"Been rimmed? Or done it yourself?"
"By girls, a few times. I *really* liked that, but it's the sort of thing the women I've dated had to be really turned on to want to get into."
Jim went back to walking around Blair, his steps slow and measured. "What's the kinkiest thing you've ever done with a man?"
"Kinky? That's a loaded word. *This* could be considered the kinkiest thing I've done," Blair said with some amusement.
"In your own opinion then," Jim said patiently.
"Ummm, my first male lover spanked me once. Didn't do much for me, but it sent him through the roof." Thinking about it made Blair harder, though, because of how wild and powerful the fucking had been.
"What's the one thing you *won't* do in the bedroom?" Jim said, suddenly bending close so that he could whisper and be heard.
"No idea, and that's the truth." Blair thought hard and added, "About the only thing I've heard of that got my gag reflex going was scat. Oh, and pain. I don't think I could do pain from either side."
"And the thing you've always wanted to try?"
Instantly, before he could give himself time to censor the words, Blair said, "Two men at once. I've had two women; it was fantastic. But I've always thought two men would be better."
"I think so anyway," Jim murmured.
"Fuck." Blair bit his lower lip, honestly worried that the image that brought on would make him break and start begging.
"Open your eyes, now." Blair obeyed, then whimpered, a faint trembling starting in every muscle of his body. Jim stood in front of him, cock out, leisurely stroking himself. "Tell me the one fantasy that works best for you. Not the one that hits you all the time that you might actually do someday, but the one you'll hardly admit to yourself that you think about when you're lagging and need to get off."
"I, I, I..." Blair stuttered to a stop, then swallowed hard. Jim would know instantly if he were lying, and he'd already made it clear that he was going to push Blair hard, to show him how much he was expected to take. "I get a tape in the mail; it shows me with two men, sucking one while the other fucks me, clearly loving it. A note with the tape gives an address, and the warning that if I don't show, the tape will wind up in the hands of the wrong people. I go to the address; it's a big, empty warehouse that isn't lit up when I go in. Hands grab me, push me up against the wall, then a man fucks me hard. When he's done, he pushes me out the door, his seed dripping down my legs, whispering that he'll see me again soon."
"Will he?" Jim groaned, his hand flying faster and faster on the long column of his cock.
"Over and over, but I'll never see his face," Blair said, barely able to make himself understood through his panting. Jim was close, he could tell, so close the veins on his dick were standing out and the head was plum-colored with blood.
"And you want him to use you, don't you?"
"Yes, yes!" The trembling turned to out and out shaking, and when Jim groaned again, seed spurting over his fist, Blair screamed, his own climax roaring out of him without any warning. It ripped at him with claws of pure ecstasy, tearing at nerve and mind until he could bear no more, and he plummeted away into release.
When he finally fell back into himself, Jim was putting him into bed, completely supporting his dead weight. "Sorry," he muttered.
"For what? Liking what I did to you too much?" Jim said, grin in place. "Trust me, I'm flattered I flattened you like this."
"Mmm." The blankets were warm and soft, and the hands smoothing them over his body were loving. Admitting that fighting the sleep closing over him was not an option, Blair clumsily caught one of Jim's hands, pulling it up to kiss it. "I don't know whether to thank you or run for the hills while I've got half a chance of not surrendering to you, body and soul."
"I wasn't trying to seduce you to me," Jim said seriously. "I don't want you to make up your mind based on a couple of intense sessions."
"Believe me, I won't," Blair said sleepily. "But it does look like I was right; I just didn't know how close what you need was to what I've always wanted. Guess the only question is can I do it for the long haul."
"Take your time." Jim tucked the covers around him, then brushed Blair's curls away from his face. "For you I'll wait as long as need be."
"But no more sex," Blair muttered, not liking the idea of that at all. Before he could protest, he was asleep, dreaming of endlessly tumbling through a featureless gray limbo.
* * *
Blair fully expected to need weeks to make up his mind about whether or not to give himself to Jim, possibly with a solitary retreat and a few thousand hours of meditation. But six days later he let himself into the loft after a long walk late at night, sure to the soul of himself of his decision. The only question truly left was how to tell Jim.
In the long run only one way seemed right, and Blair took a carefully thorough shower, then very deliberately lit candles and the fire. Naked, nervous, and already semi-erect, he sat down to wait until Jim got home from dinner with his brother. Thankfully not much later he heard the key in the door, and Jim opened it, gaze already seeking Blair's.
"Hey, Chief," he said, confusion apparent. "Strike out with your date for the evening?"
"Didn't have one," Blair said honestly. "Haven't had one since the first time you made me come without so much as touching me. Didn't seem... right. And don't think I haven't noticed you haven't been dating, either."
Frowning slightly, Jim came into the living room, undoing his tie. His eyes swept over Blair's nude form, but he kept his expression bland. "Like you said, it didn't seem right."
"Wasn't hard to give it up, was it?" Blair said quietly. "That was my first clue, and the one I shouldn't have had to have. In fact, I should have asked myself years ago why no one seemed to have whatever it took to keep me with them more than a few months or so. I could have saved us both these past weeks of doubt and worry."
"You've decided, then," Jim said, a painful sort of hope dawning in his face.
"Do you have any other standing orders for me besides never touching myself sexually?" Blair asked by way of answer, lifting his hands, palm up to his lover.
Covering them with his own, Jim said, "Only that you never, ever leave me."
"Done."
Jim pulled him up into a hard hug, hanging on with so much strength that Blair could swear he heard bone and sinew creaking from it. Then he let go and nudged Blair toward his bedroom. "Let's move your things upstairs. Want to keep this as an office or turn it into more storage?"
A little taken aback at the pragmatic turn of things, Blair said, "Office, so I've got a corner to retreat to when we get into a knock-down-drag out and it's raining too hard for me to storm out."
"Good idea." It was the last thing Jim said as they emptied drawers and made room for Blair's clothes in the upstairs closet. Only the obvious hard-on he was sporting kept Blair from being completely disappointed, and about halfway through the move he realized that it was a test of a sort, and probably not the last before Jim dared believe completely that Blair was sincere. That made waiting easier, though not by much, because there was something about the way that Jim would stop once in a while and look him over that made Blair's nerves sizzle.
When they were done, Blair's spare glasses and current night-time reading book on the night stand, Jim said in a perfectly ordinary voice, "Get on your knees and bend over the foot of the bed. Make yourself comfortable; you're going to be in that position for a long time."
The desire that had unwillingly been reduced to a dull throb flared hot and high again, and Blair hurriedly did as he was told, grabbing a pillow to hug to his chest as he laid his head on his crossed forearms. To his surprise, Jim quickly stripped then stretched out on his stomach on the bed so that he and Blair were literally nose-to-nose.
"Last chance to back out," he said solemnly, resting his chin on his crossed arms.
"Not going to happen," Blair shot back without hesitation. "For the record, I made up my mind without my little head having the controlling vote."
With a shy smile that was heartbreakingly beautiful, Jim just looked at him for a long, long minute, then brushed a tantalizingly light kiss over Blair's forehead. Another followed, this time to a cheek, then more were scattered over his face, landing everywhere but his mouth. About the time Blair thought he would simply break down and cry if Jim didn't *kiss* him, Jim touched his lips to Blair's so tenderly that Blair all but melted inside, any hidden doubts dissolving completely. His position didn't allow him to do more than open to his lover when a soft lick to his upper lip asked, but he did that eagerly, accepting the gentle invader with a quiet moan of pleasure.
When Jim pulled away, Blair was dazed and aroused in equal measures, too stunned to even protest when his lover climbed off their bed. A second later he felt Jim behind him, and amazingly hot hands came to rest on Blair's bottom, covering both ass cheeks. All Blair could do was spread his thighs as wide as possible and hope that Jim would hurry, though he seriously doubted that was going to happen.
After what seemed like a small eternity, Jim began kissing Blair's backside the same way he had kissed his face; a flurry of barely tangible touches that moved randomly over both cheeks, yet somehow came closer and closer to Blair's opening. When he finally settled over it with a deep, hard kiss, Blair moaned in unadulterated relief, clutching his pillow so hard he was afraid of ripping it. Backing off almost immediately, Jim switched to teasing tongue-tip licks over the entire area that slowly spiraled back into the center, then backed off again, switching to broad, wet licks.
Whether his intent was to relax and loosen the guardian muscle, or simply drive Blair insane with the need for something substantial inside him, Blair had no way of knowing, and very shortly no mind left to care. All his attention was focused on Jim's talented tongue and his own pucker, his whole body straining back as much as his position would allow in a vain attempt to get what he needed. When he was within a breath of climaxing hard from the teasing, Jim slid a single finger into him, breaching him effortlessly.
Shouting, Blair came, scrabbling madly on his elbows to try to fuck the finger opening him, but held in place by a strong hand in the small of his back. Before the last spasm tore through him, Jim replaced his finger with his cock, and finally, finally Blair was filled. The hard thrust sent a second wave of pleasure into him, almost as intense as another orgasm, but he didn't get the hard fucking that should have come with it. Instead, Jim pushed in as deep as he could with a quiet 'oh' that didn't reflect the powerful spurts of hot seed Blair felt accompany it.
Disappointment tried to crash in on his satisfaction, but Blair reminded himself that Jim had been waiting a long while for them to make love. It wouldn't take him long, probably, to get hard again and post-coital cuddling was good, too. Even as he formed the thought though, Jim began to move, pumping in and out with long, slow, steady strokes, no sign of his erection waning at all. Too grateful to be taken aback, Blair sighed luxuriously, rocked back once experimentally, and found that Jim had no intention of letting him reciprocate just yet.
Astonishingly, that was arousing for Blair; so much so that between the restraint and steady hammering, his own hard-on slowly reawakened. Before a real need for release could begin clamoring, though, Jim slowly wound down to a stop, shortening his strokes until he was barely moving, as far in as he could humanly manage it. With a reluctance that screamed at Blair, despite his sensual haze, Jim withdrew completely, leaving only his hands flat in the curve of Blair's back, still holding him in place.
For a split second Blair considered protesting, at least humorously, but with an effort he stayed silent, waiting for his lover's pleasure. With a quiet murmur of approval Jim kissed his shoulder blade, then put two well-oiled fingers where his cock had just been, driving them all the way up to the last knuckle. It was good. Different from being fucked properly, but good for all that, and Blair groaned a little in appreciation. After a few twisting, probing thrusts, Jim poured a small cascade of oil over Blair's hole, then carefully added a third finger, stretching Blair as he'd never been stretched before.
It took a deep breath and an order to his body to relax, but Blair accepted the extra fullness with no problem, and shortly was enjoying the finger play as much as when it had just been two. He was going to come again, very shortly, he realized, and gave himself over to the rising hunger, unconsciously relaxing even more. At that nearly subliminal cue, Jim slowed and gentled his strokes, gingerly adding the little finger to ones already crowding the hot passage.
Only then did Blair realize what Jim meant to do and he started whimpering into his pillow, hanging onto it for all he was worth. But he also tried to open his legs even wider, angling his hips to invite what had to happen next. On the next stroke more oil was added and Jim's thumb began working its way past the wide-stretched opening, sending odd pangs of sensation into Blair's gut and balls. It didn't hurt, but he wasn't sure he liked it either, then Jim's fingers were past the guardian muscle, leaving it clenched around his wrist. With precise, controlled movements Jim made a fist and gently *shoved.*
A bolt of incredible pleasure burned over every nerve Blair had, then resolved itself into a marvelous pressure on his cock that was from the inside, sending tiny jolts of need from ass to cock to balls and back. Silent for the moment, all his air needed to fuel his lungs as he struggled to stay still, Blair braced himself for the inevitable moment when Jim would move again. It was useless; as his ass spasmed around the massive intruder, he screamed, uselessly trying to do something, anything, to get Jim to fuck him with it again.
His finish exploded through him, making the fist inside him seem even bigger, and he writhed from the pure force of his pleasure, mindlessly trying to prolong it and take Jim farther inside. Jim held him down with brute strength, already crooning reassurances and endearments, and Blair mentally clung to that while his body shook violently in release, especially when Jim eased his hand out.
From a great distance away Blair felt his lover tidy him up, then pull him up onto the bed properly, tucking blankets around them both. Eventually he recovered enough to say sleepily, "I'm going to be one huge ache, tomorrow. Thank you."
With a snort of laughter Jim said, "Want to go to the gym first thing and use their hot tub to soak the worst of it out?"
"Sounds good." Blair tightened his arms around Jim's waist. "Then could we go to this body art parlor I know about? The woman who handles the piercing is really good."
A last infinitesimal barrier inside of Jim all but audibly collapsed, and he buried his face in Blair's shoulder. "It didn't even bother you, did it, that I needed you to *ask* for that, instead of just telling me you were doing it. You really do fit me perfectly."
"Took us a while to get there, though," Blair said thoughtfully.
"You were worth every minute of the wait," Jim murmured, hands everywhere at once, as if he couldn't believe his luck.
"And then some. But that's done, and I'm here, and what are you planning on doing about that hard-on poking me in the belly?"
Laughing, Jim rolled Blair under him, leaned up on his elbows and said, "Whatever I want, right?"
Happily, Blair said, "Right." And turned up his face to accept more of his lover's demands.
finis