Title: Handcuffs Authors/pseudonyms and Email addresses: Summer Rain -- zeram@geocities.com Indigo Lass -- Langley@conninc.com Sarah -- ladyvyola@aol.com Fortuita James -- fortuita@hotmail.com Nightshade k'Silvermoon -- firecat5150@hotmail.com Jenny Saypaw -- JennySaypaw@Pathfindermail.com MegaRed -- megarouge@aol.com Rating: NC-17 Pairings: J/B http://www.geocities.com/SoHo/Coffeehouse/8590/Handcuffs.html Disclaimers: "They're ours! All ours!" (Yeah, right) None of us are making any money on this. It's rampant IRC insanity, that thing that happens when you get a bunch of obsessed fans in a round robin. Notes: Category is First Times Summary: Blair is falling asleep on his feet, but still insists on accompanying Jim on an investigation. Jim must resort to desperate measures to get his Guide to rest. Warnings: Light bondage, but no S/M. _____________________________________________________________________ Handcuffs Blair rolled over in his bed and looked out his window. /Another rainy day in Cascade./ "Chief, are you getting up, or you planning to stay in bed all day?" Blair heard his roommate ask. "I'm getting up. Hope you haven't used all the hot water." Grabbing fresh clothes and not caring if they matched, Blair stumbled to the bathroom. Waiting for the water to heat up, he stripped off his tee-shirt and boxers. /Two hours of sleep is not enough./ He stepped under the warm spray and let it pour over him. The warmth was soothing, but it did nothing to take away the exhaustion that had been his constant companion of late It had been getting harder and harder to hide how tired he felt. But he felt he had no choice. He knew his Sentinel, and he knew there was no way Jim would continue to let Blair accompany him to the station if he knew Blair was running on fumes. No matter. He just had to get through one more day. Just one more and then it would be the weekend... no school and no work, just Sentinel and Guide lounging around at home. He could do it. After all, what could possibly happen in just one day? ********************** Any thoughts he'd entertained of a quiet, rainy day in the Bullpen, catching up on paperwork, evaporated the second he trailed Jim off the elevator. "Ellison, Sandburg -- my office, now!" came Simon's familiar growl. Blair began his usual pacing back and forth behind Jim, who stood calmly in front of the Captain's desk. "What've you got for us, Simon?" Jim asked, folding his arms. "There's been a break in the McClellan kidnapping. The cleaning lady remembers seeing a delivery van in the neighborhood just before the snatch. A florist's, she thinks. We haven't found anybody in the area who got any flowers, so I want you and the kid to start checking out the local shops." Blair sighed. Another day trudging along behind Iron Man Jim, getting cold and tired and going nowhere fast, all the while trying to keep the Sentinel from zoning out on the smell of flowers. He grabbed his jacket and slipped it on before turning back towards Jim. He opened the door and left the office to retrieve his backpack which he had left at the desk. He stumbled slightly as he reached the desk, his vision blurring for a moment. He reached up to rub his eyes, hand stopping mid-motion as he felt someone looking at him. He turned to see Jim looking at him, eyes narrowed. He smiled brightly at Jim, letting his hand drop away from his eyes. "Come on Jim, lets get a move on!" he called, turning to walk briskly towards the elevator feeling as if the weight of the world were on his shoulders The elevator was barely between floors when Jim hit the stop button. "Okay, Chief, what's the matter?" "Nothing's the matter." Blair looked anywhere but at the bright blue eyes that were trying to bore their way into his soul. Jim reached out and cupped Blair's face with his hand, forcing Blair's eyes to meet his. "Don't lie to me. I know you haven't been sleeping much lately, and you looked like you were about to pass out in the bullpen." "Don't worry. I had a paper that I was behind on, but I finished it up last night, or should I say this morning." "You should have told me that you had a paper due instead of following me around on this kidnapping case." Blair jerked away from his friend. "I'm a Guide. That's what I'm supposed to do. I follow you around and much sure nothing happens to you." "I think you've got that turned around, Chief. *I'm* the Blessed Protector who keeps you out of trouble." The fog of exhaustion was seeping through all the fissures of Blair's brain, and he had trouble paying attention to Jim "...and as such, *I* say that you're going to fall nosefirst into it unless you get some sleep!" Irritation burned away some of the ribbons of fatigue, and Blair rallied, "Oh yeah? What about if you zone on this week's selection of posies and I'm not there to drag you back?" Jim closed his eyes, visibly counting to ten, then opened them again. "It's footwork, Chief. It's asking questions of people who, I'm willing to bet, don't engage in illegal activities... people who more than likely aren't carrying any weapons or out to grease a zoned Sentinel." "So, if it's that harmless, why can't I go along?" /Blair-logic!/ Jim thought, /Why'd it have to be Blair-logic?/ Out loud, he said, "It's not that. You need to get some rest ,and you won't get it tagging along after me." "'Tagging along'?" Blair repeated, not quite believing those words and tone, "*TAGGING ALONG?* What the hell am I, some kind of puppy? Is that how you see me?" Jim hastily backed down. "No, Blair, I'm just concerned. You can't spend all your time working with me. I know you have a life of your own." "Look, Jim, I'm fine. This little excursion might be safe from random bad guys, but a florist is *not* a Sentinel-friendly environment." Jim was trapped. He couldn't argue anymore. He'd already denied the possibility of danger. And it looked like Blair was making a point out of going along on this one. Blair was trapped. He'd made a point of going along on this one, but he knew he wasn't up to it. He attempted a snow job. "I'm really not that tired, man. And with flowers..." He dredged through his memory for every little fact about floral scenting, and began a rather interesting if incoherent lecture. By the time they hit the truck, he was fading fast. He settled himself uncomfortably in the passenger seat, somewhat sorry about insisting on accompanying Jim. But the flowers were a *real* danger. Especially strongly scented ones. A zoned Jim wouldn't do the kidnapped victim any good. ********************** Jim drove to a florist on Bakers Street. Blair recognized the shop as being the one Henri used when he needed to send flowers. "Chief, want to stay out here while I go in? You can keep an eye on me through the window." "No way, man. I'm going with you." Blair hopped out of the truck, trying to not stumble as his legs started to fold beneath him. He grabbed the hood of the truck. Jim raced around the front of the truck. "Blair!" "I'm okay, Jim. Just stubbed my toe." "Get back in the truck." "Jim, I'm okay." Jim's lips thinned into a straight line. Without a word, he scooped Blair into his arms and carried him to the passenger side of the vehicle. "Jim, put me down." Jim managed to open the door and dropped Blair into the passenger seat. "Stay. Here." He carefully enunciated each word before slamming the door shut. Jim turned back toward the florist shop. He'd only taken two steps when he heard the passenger door open again. He turned and fixed a steely Sentinel glare on his young partner, who has stubbornly weaving his way along the pavement toward him. "You're cruising for it, Chief," the cop growled. Blair folded his arms and stared defiantly up at his partner -- or as defiantly as possible, since he was swaying dangerously. "Jim, you need me to be with you if you go in there," Blair said softly. "You...whoa...," Jim dove forward as Blair's legs folded under him for the second time. He swept his groggy loftmate up in his arms and returned him to the truck once more. Settling Blair in the passenger seat, Jim whipped out his handcuffs, and quickly cuffed Blair's right wrist to the sideview mirror, letting his arm rest in the open window. "Now STAY THERE!" Jim bellowed, feeling a glimmer of satisfaction as Blair cringed. /Geez, but the boy drove him insane at times./ He turned and strode purposefully into the florist shop, letting the door slam behind him. ********************** Ten minutes later, as Jim was questioning the shop's owner, the door jingled. Jim turned to check out the new customer, and his jaw dropped. Blair stood in the doorway with the handcuffs and detached mirror dangling from his wrist. "Don't make these old trucks like they used to, hey Jim?" he asked with a smirk. "You are in SO much trouble," Jim muttered, grabbing his partner by the hair and guiding him back outside. He bundled the gloating young man into the passenger seat, then went around and took the wheel. "When I get you home...," he glowered. "Uh, Jim, what do you think you're doing?" Blair asked as the detective put the truck into drive and pulled away from the curb. "I'm taking you home," the Sentinel growled. "But, Jim, we're on a case... You can't just drop everything like this!" A huge yawn spoiled Blair's effort to project righteous indignation. Jim's only response was a glare. "You are going home, young man, and you *are* going to bed... no more debate!" " 'Young man'? You sound like Naomi." "Believe me, Chief, I don't feel very motherly...or fatherly!"... Jim was having difficulty with his breathing. A sleepy, toussled-haired guide was proving more enticing than irritating... /I'll just take him home and tuck him in bed, and then I can get back to work./ Jim thought to himself. /I *can* resist temptation. Besides I suspect it would be more fun to wake Blair up when he's had enough sleep to be aware of what's going on around him... I mean to him... I mean... / He glanced over to see Blair sound asleep, head tilted back against the window, a slight snore issuing from between those sensual, kissable lips. "Don't go there, Ellison," he cautioned himself. "The kid's exhausted and even if he wasn't...." ********************** Traffic was light that rainy mid-morning, and soon Jim turned onto Prospect. Like magic, a large vehicle of the type Blair referred to as a 'mommy car' pulled out, leaving him a space directly in front of the building. He sat for a moment, the rain softly drumming on the roof of the old truck as he watched Blair mutter to himself and settle deeper into the seat. "Hey, buddy," he said softly. "We're home. C'mon, Blair. Let's get you upstairs and you can sleep all you want." Sleepy blue eyes opened the barest fraction and a murmured "Mmmm, five more minutes, Mom," reached Jim's sensitive ears. "Not quite." Jim got out and came around to the passenger side, absently running a hand over the gaping wound where the sideview mirror once sat. "You owe me, Chief." The Sentinel could feel Blair's warmth settle against his side as they made their way into the building and waited for the elevator. Instinctively he pressed back, seeking more of the inviting heat. "Owe you..." Blair mumbled in the elevator. At any other time it would have been a question, but he didn't even have the energy for that. Jim looked down, half amused, half fond, and started lugging him down towards the door. "C'mon Chief, let's get you to bed." "Bed..." They were inside, and that was the second time Blair had responded to Jim with a vague repetition of his own words. Jim frowned. This was really extreme exhaustion. He hustled Blair into his room and sat him down on the side of his bed. Blair naturally wilted towards the pillow; but just before his head hit, he caught sight of the time. It held his attention for a minute as he tried to understand its meaning. "It's morning, Jim. Jim!" he exclaimed, surging wonkily back to a semi-upright position. "You skipped out on your case! Did you talk to Simon? You are in so much trouble." "You're worried about me?" Exasperating. "Can't you just turn it off and go to sleep?" Blair looked up at him with hurt blue eyes Jim brushed aside a strand of curly hair that had fallen in Blair's face. He continued in a gentler tone of voice. "Chief, you were falling asleep on your feet. You're won't do either one of us any good in the state you're in. Stay here and get some rest. I'll call Simon and see if Rafe or H can go with me." "Okay, I'll stay," Blair said, finally giving in. He lay back down on his bed. Jim went to the closet and pulled a blanket off a shelf. He carried it back to his Guide's bed and spread it out over Blair. The young man was already asleep. Jim bent down and brushed Blair's forehead with a light kiss. "Sweet dreams." Cont'd. in Part 2 Handcuffs, part 2 of 3. Disclaimer: See part 1. Even though he knew Blair was too out of it to notice, he tiptoed out into the living room to make his call. Just as he reached for the telephone on the end table, the cell phone in his pocket went off with a squeal. "Shush!" Jim hissed at the phone as he pulled it out and flipped it open. "I don't want Blair waking up again and trying to get back on his feet." "Ellison." "Jim, it's Simon. You and Blair can call off your investigation. Rafe and Megan hit pay dirt on the other side of town. The little McClellan girl's been found." Jim immediately perked up. He'd been feeling a little guilty about leaving in the middle of his work. "That's great, Sir!" "Yeah," Simon's voice carried a smile with it even over the telephone. "They were checking out this little florist shop, and Megan started poking around in the back, and she heard a little girl crying. She signaled Rafe, and they took out the kidnappers in no time flat. So everyone else on the case can have the rest of the day off." "Thank you, Sir." Jim, closed the phone and turned back to look through the door into Blair's bedroom. The young man's arm had flipped out from beneath the blanket, and the handcuff and rearview mirror dangled inches from the floor. That give the Sentinel an idea, and he headed into the bedroom. He smiled softly before his gaze once again fell on the mirror dangling from the handcuffs. Even handcuffing his Guide to the mirror hadn't been enough to stop the young man. What Jim needed was to do something that would so exhaust the young man that he would *have* to sleep, would *have* to at least rest for more than 5 minutes. Even now he could see Blair's eyelids fluttering as he began to wake up again in response to Jim's presence in the room. Jim quickly strode over to the bed, the key for the cuffs in his hand. He reached the bed and unlocked the cuffs just as Blair's eyes opened "Oh...thanks, Jim," Blair mumbled sleepily. "For what buddy?" Jim asked, smiling down at his Guide. "For releasing me from the cuffs." Jim let the mirror slide off and onto the ground before he answered his Guide. "Releasing you? Who said anything about releasing you?" he asked, his smile growing feral. "Wha..." Blair's question was cut off as Jim leaned down suddenly to claim his mouth in a kiss. Blair was all set to give himself over completely to the kiss when suddenly he felt the cold metal of steel encircling his wrists once again. His arms were pulled up and the cuffs quickly slipped through the rails of the headboard before clicking shut, laying him out like an offering on an altar. Blair bucked his head up, narrowly missing Jim's jaw. "You cuffed me! Man, that is so---" Jim's lips descended again on Blair's, his agile tongue pushing past the open lips and investigating the intriguing flavors deep inside. Protesting lungs finally demanded the end of the kiss. Predictably, Blair was talking even before he stopped gasping. "Jim, what's going on? Talk to me, man. Are you zoning out on something, maybe like you did with Laura or Michelle?" "You know what's wrong with you, Chief? You talk too much." With that, Blair's ability to talk was again obstructed by Jim's lips and tongue. Jim ruthlessly plundered the younger man's mouth, sucking his lower lip, stroking his tongue, imprinting every nuance of Blair's flavor on his memory. Any thoughts Blair had about Jim's motivations were whirled away as the blood supplying his brain rushed off to a quite different area. He totally forgot the guy/woman distinction that had, until now, been a factor. While he certainly wasn't complaining, this assault from Jim was coming out of left field. He'd known Jim wasn't homophobic or anything ridiculous like that, but he'd never dreamed that Jim might actually have these kind of feeling and *act* on them. Then Jim's mouth left his to nip and suck its way down to his throat, and Blair lost even that vague thread of thought. He sucked his breath in a loud hiss as Jim began to tease a really sensitive spot with his teeth and tongue. He instinctively arched his throat to give him better access. Jim's hands slid under his shirt, pushing the fabric up under his arms. The wet warmth left his throat, and he made a tiny sound of despair, only to have that sound spiral up into a near-shout as that wayward mouth closed none too gently on one nipple. His body arched up, its ascent hampered by two hundred pounds of Sentinel. His breath left him in a shaking rush, and he dimly heard a low chuckle from Jim. He could feel Jim's smile traveling down his chest to his stomach. Strong hands deftly flipped the shirt up so his face was covered. "Chief," Jim's voice preempted Blair's immediate protest to blindness, "do you mind if I do something that's gonna *really* drive you nuts?" /As if you're not already?/ Blair wondered. He felt the bed shift, but instead of continuing the tactile torment, Jim got up. "Uh, Jim?" Blair's voice was muffled by the mouthful of cotton, but he knew Jim could hear him, "What're you doing?" A low laugh was his only answer. Now that he was full and well awake, with a week's worth of hormones rampaging through him, he thought about whether or not he really objected to what he *knew* Jim was about to do. Considering that laugh had hit him right in the groin, he didn't think he'd mind. "Sandburg..." Now Jim's voice was uncertain, "Is, um, is this going to be okay?" /What the hell, he had to get back at the man for the handcuffs./ "And if it isn't?" He heard Jim sigh, and the sadness in it wrenched in his chest. "Then I've made an ass of myself, and I'll stop before I really wreck things." /Stop?!?!/ "Do you want me to stop?" /If you do, Ellison, I think I just might kill you./ Blair swallowed, his mouth and throat suddenly dry. It took a few seconds before he was able to speak. "You woke me up from a nice doze. I think you better make it up to me." /Oh, god,/ he thought, /Did I actually say that? And did that sound like that challenge I think it did?/ Blair could hear Jim's smile, "You've got a point." Blair squashed the first really crude several responses that sprang to mind. An odd noise caught his attention and reminded him of what he was originally imagining. "So, *Blessed Protector*, how exactly are you going to drive me crazy?" "I said I'd drive you nuts, Chief. There is a fine distinction. And I want you to give me permission before I do it." /Permission?/ "Uh, sure. Whatever you want." Sudden silence, then Jim's voice, very quietly, "Whatever I want?" The softly diffident tone drove Blair's mind into hyperdrive. /What did he want? Was it what Jim wanted? Was it what he *thought* Jim wanted? Was it what he *hoped* Jim wanted?/ He searched his soul and his heart. He already knew what his hormones were screaming. And the consensus was yes. A hundred times a hundred yes's. "Whatever, Jim. I trust you." He heard Jim's sigh of relieved happiness. "Thanks, Chief. You have no idea what that means to me." Blair forgot what he was going to say as he heard another sound. "Was that my dresser drawer? Are you going through my stuff?" "Yep." "JIM!" He jerked at the cuffs, tossing his head to dislodge the shirt. "What the hell for?" "Three reasons. Number one, you said I could -- " "I did not!" "Yes," Jim's grin was clearly audible, "you did. You said whatever I wanted, remember?" "That's evil, man." "Number two, it's driving you nuts; and number three, I need to find something..." Blair couldn't believe what he was hearing, couldn't believe *Jim* was actually going through his stuff. Not that he was hiding anything, but jeez... "Aha!" /Dear god, what is he "aha-ing" about?/ The bed shifted once more as Jim sat back down. "I knew I smelled something good here." A soft *pop* and a fresh fruity scent reached Blair. "Massage oil, I can understand Chief. But *edible*, *strawberry flavored* oil?" Blair blushed... all the way to his collarbone. "I think you and I are going to have some fun with this." /This was one surreal day, starting with virtual unconsciousness on the job. And now Jim, JIM, was making lewd advances with fruity leisure items. But hey, he'd already made the decision to throw in with this mind, body and soul./ "Bring it on, Big Guy." Shirt still partially obscuring his vision, he felt the first cool slick across his chest. Jim's movements were silent. All Blair had was the sweet smell, and the unexpected movements of Jim's hands. "Did I ever tell you," the husky voice slid into Blair's awareness, trickling over him, "how much I love strawberry?" And that was his only warning before Jim started tracing the patterns of his hands with his mouth. He could feel Jim's warm mouth slowly suckling and nipping its way down the center of his chest. It was incredibly arousing, but it also seemed strangely unreal. More like a dream than like it was really, finally happening. "Jim?" his voice quavered a little. He needed this to be real. "Hmm?" It was muffled against his chest, buzzing over his heated skin. "Jim, could you take this shirt off? I want to see." "Nope!" Jim replied cheerfully. "Sorry Chief. I'm a selfish man, and it gives me pleasure knowing that you can't tell what I going to do next." Blair could hear the wide grin behind Jim's words, and he sighed. "Fine," he murmured. "Have it your w..hey!" Jim was pouring the sweet-smelling oil into his belly button. "Jim, cut it out! I'll never get the oil out of there!" Blair hissed as he felt Jim dipping his fingertips into the well of oil pooled in his belly button. Then he arched as the slick fingers began to trace swirly, circular patterns across the flat plane of his belly. The feel of the oil against his skin was incredible, and Blair arched into the touch, straining against the cuffs as he tried to inch his body closer to his unseen tormentor's fingers. Jim watched as Blair's stomach rippled with pleasure, the muscles contracting and twitching in the wake of his fingertips. He poured more oil onto his palm, rubbing both hands together, and then slid both hands slowly over Blair's torso, from waistline to collarbone, covering him with the scented oil. Blair was just beginning to drowse from the pleasant sensation of warm hands smoothing his chest hair. Then his eyes flew open, still hidden by the shirt, as a hot, wet tongue dipped into his navel. His back automatically arched again, and he moaned as Jim began licking the oil from his belly and chest. The tongue moved up and took his left nipple, swirling the bud around before it was grazed delicately by the sentinel's sharp teeth. Blair gasped again as the treatment was repeated with his other nipple, the actions shooting little tremors of pleasure across his nerve endings, and arrowing into his throbbing cock. "Oh Jim...Jim...JIIIIIMMMMMM!!!!" Sleep was no longer an option. Blair was AWAKE! Jim noted his Guide's active heartrate and realized that his plan to wear the young man out was failing miserably. Racking his brain for a way to relax the now-aroused anthropologist, Jim moved off of the small bed to walk the floor. "Jim?" Blair was angling his head back, trying to see from under the shirt. "Pfft...Pffffft!" Attempts to blow the garment off his face were fruitless. Jim turned to look back at his loftmate and smiled. Moving to sit at the foot of the bed, he reached down and unlaced Blair's hiking boots. He laid the heavy footwear aside and followed suit with the mismatched, colorful socks. Then he placed the bare feet on a pillow and picked up the oil again. Blair waited, having felt Jim take off his shoes and socks. He heard the faint, liquid sound as more of the oil left its bottle, then the squishy noises as Jim rubbed oil-slicked hands together. Blair held his breath, and gasped when his right foot was lifted and tenderly explored by thick, gentle fingers. The callused finger pads traveled over his arch, causing his leg to spasm slightly. Then each toe was carefully and thoroughly caressed. Jim covered both of Blair's feet with oil, then lifted one, and slowly ran his tongue over the arch. Blair giggled, and his toes twitched ever so slightly. Jim grinned and responded by grazing his teeth over the big toe, sucking the strawberry taste away until all that remained was the taste of Blair. He pondered briefly if there was a market for Anthropologist-Flavored Body Oil, but quickly dismissed the idea. Blair's feet were given a long tongue bath, leaving the young man writhing in pleasure. Next, Jim took the feet in his lap and began to knead the soles. He twisted the knuckle of his index finger into the soft flesh just below the ball of Blair's foot, and smiled as he felt the young man's leg muscle relaxing. Blair was melting. The warm, strong hands were worshipping his feet, massaging his soles, scratching lightly over his toes, then scurrying to trail softly across the balls of his feet. Blair closed his eyes, his breaths growing deep and even as he drifted off to sleep. The last thing he was aware of was Jim setting his feet down, and his shirt at last being removed from his face. Jim smiled lovingly down at his new mate, and gently draped a blanket over the slim figure. He reached down to stroke the dark curls for a moment, then laid his hand against the smooth cheek. /So beautiful./ With one last, chaste kiss to the rounded brow, Jim left the room and quietly closed the door. No, it doesn't end here. Con't. in Part 3. Handcuffs, part 3 of 3. Disclaimer: See part 1.  The scent of lasgana woke him from a dream of making love to his senintel in a field of strawberries. Blair sat up only to be pulled back down by the handcuffs still attached to his headboard. With a rush it all came back to him -- the florist shop, coming home, and the most incredible, sexist foot massage he had ever had. He felt the flush rise from his neck up to his face. Jim loved him! For the three years that he had shared the loft with the older man, he had never allowed himself that Jim could possiblely return his feelings. There was so much that they had to discuss, but first things first: "Jim," he called softly. When his lover didn't responed, he called louder, "Jim." /Jim, you better be home. I'm way too old to wet my bed./ He heard the front door open and footsteps cross the loft's floor Jim opened the french doors and walked in. He knelt down on the bed beside Blair and unlocked the handcuffs. "Sorry, babe. Had to go to market for some of that Italian bread you like." He helped Blair to sit up. "Next time, before you leave, could you unlock the handcuffs." Jim brushed a light kiss across Blair's lips. "Wanted to make sure you were still here when I got back." Blair pulled away from the Jim's kiss. "I'll always be here. The only way you'll ever get me to leave is to throw me out, and I won't go easily." Jim bent over to give him another kiss, but Blair stopped him with a hand against the Sentinel's chest. "Hold that thought, Jim. I really have to go." Blair scrambled off the bed and headed towards the bathroom. Jim grinned at Blair's retreating back, thinking of the lovely lasagna he had cooking. /A little bit of red wine, some dim lighting... what about music? No,/ he decided, /that would be too corny./ He didn't want to go overboard on the seduction thing and scare his (hopefully) new lover. Still, he also couldn't let a "normal" evening of take-out food and watching a basketball game ruin what he had begun. He left Blair's room and quickly surveyed everything... slightly romantic without being overly so, enough to send a subtle message without slapping Blair in the face with it. He went to the kitchen to check on the lasagna, keeping one ear tuned to Blair. /Ah, perfect!/ he decided, taking the lasagna out of the oven. He carried it gingerly to the table, where his eyes were drawn once again to the candle he'd set up there. /Too much?/ He glanced back at the bathroom, back to the candles, then quickly swept them off the table and put them in a drawer. The wine was chilling in the refrigerator, but he didn't take it out just yet. Instead, he strode over to the light with it's newly installed dimmer switch and turned the illumination down. He walked back to the kitchen and paused, torn between dim lighting or the candles he'd forsaken earlier. /Jesus, Ellison, make up your MIND!/ He heard Blair start brushing his teeth. His friend's heartbeat was strong and steady, a soothing counterpoint to the chaotic clamor of the city. With any luck, he'd be doing a lot to speed that pulse up. For the hundredth time, he mentally cursed himself for not taking taking advantage of Blair's earlier position. /The kid needed sleep,/ he reminded himself. /But you could have worn him out and made damn sure he got it,/ another part of his mind put in. /He got several hours./ /Fine, so you were noble earlier. With any luck, that's out of your system, and now you can work on doing all the things you *really* want to do./ And part of that was making sure dinner was perfect. Jim returned the candles to the table and killed the lights. He had taken a lot of pains to make sure they weren't going to be interrupted by anything -- not kidnappings, nor psychos, nor neurotic students begging for a scrap of Blair's time; *nothing* was going to mess this night up. He'd even unplugged the phone and turned off the cell. His conscience twinged a little as he did so, but what were the chances that the city was going to need it's Sentinel and Guide tonight? Besides, at this moment the most important thing to him was his Guide. The rest of the world could wait He didnt even try to hide the smile that lit his face when Blair entered the room. Blair entered the room almost tentatively before smiling in answer to Jim's welcoming smile. He had a slightly dazed look on his face as if he were still surprised at all that had happened in the day. ********************** Blair was quiet for most of dinner. They both were. After they'd finished eating, managing to kill an entire bottle of wine in the process, they silently cleared their places. Jim didn't know what to say, Blair didn't know what he wanted to hear. Blair set the plates in the sink, turning the hot water on full force to rinse the dishes. Jim covered the remains of the lasagna, his eyes never leaving Blair's back. His guts were twisting into knots, he had to do *something*! His body was moving before his mind noticed the fact. He came up behind Blair and rested both hands lightly on his shoulders, leaning in closer to catch the scent of his hair. He watched the other man carefully for any signs of resistance. Instead of the tension he'd feared, Blair relaxed a little, leaning back into Jim's hands as he did so. He stroked his hands down Blair's arms, bringing his body in closer. Jim buried his face in the mass of curls at the nape of Blair's neck. The younger man sighed almost inaudibly, his warm, wet hands coming up to pull Jim's arms around him. Jim tightened the embrace, feeling Blair in every pore of his body. "Jim?" The soft voice froze him where he was. /Dear god, is he...?/ "Jim...I just wanted to say... dinner was wonderful." He relaxed and hugged Blair closer, breathing in deeply. The smell of Blair's shampoo tickled in the back of his throat, but underlying that was Blair's personal scent, warm and sweetly spicy. Movement from Blair stopped him again; but instead of pulling away, his Guide twisted around so that he was face-to-face with the man who held him as if he were the most precious thing in the world. Jim looked down at his friend. Blair's face was flushed. His love for Jim was written plainly on his face, his desire evident in the press of his body against Jim's. Yet even through it all, Blair could not remain still... even in this intimate embrace, in this precious moment between them. It was this that reminded Jim of the circustances that had brought them to this moment... and his original plan to exhaust Blair so that he would be able to rest. His concern over the other man intensified as he saw shadows still lingered under Blair's eyes from lack of sleep. He leaned down kiss those full lips that seemed to call to him at the same time that he turned Blair's body to manuever him back towards the bedroom. He let his hands roam over the other man's body. The clothing was an impediment to the true experience of touching his Guide. It would not be so for long. They walked through the doorway and into the room, only separating when Jim gently pushed his Guide down onto the bed. "Jim?" Blair asked softly, looking up at his Sentinel, whose expression wavered between tenderness and passion. He couldn't help the shiver that went down his spine at the look Jim directed at him. He wondered briefly if he would survive whatever the Sentinel had planned for him. Jim reached down again to taste his Guide's lips, his hands going to the hem of Blair's shirt. He pulled back just enough to pull the shirt over his Guide's head before returning to kiss his lips. He pressed against his Guide, kissing him all the while so that Blair didn't notice until he lay flush against the bed. Jim reached over, fumbling for the handcuffs he knew still lay on the table at the bedside. The other hand reached down between them, lightly cupping Blair's erection through his pants. Heat spread through the young man's body, his awareness centered on his groin -- just long enough for the cuffs to be set in place. "Jim, that's not necessary, man. I'm not going anywhere..." Blair said. "I know Blair. This is so you can keep still. Besides, I like you like this... all spread out... waiting for me to touch you. Would you like that Blair? Would you like for me to touch you? To run my hands all over your body?" he asked, his eyes growing hot as he looked down at his Guide. "Oh... please, Jim..." Blair's normal eloquence left him at his Sentinel's words. He had never experienced anything like this. He felt as if his body were on fire, and it could only find relief through the Sentinel's touch. Jim looked on in fascination as Blair's chest rose and fell as his Guide struggled for breath. His gaze was inevitably drawn towards the dusky nipple that peeked out at him through the hair on Blair's chest. He leaned down and took it it in his mouth, drawing a strangled cry from his Guide. He stayed for just a moment longer before continuing a path down Blair's torso. He shifted back and brough his hands to the button of Blair's pants. He stopped, looking to his Guide's face. Blair's eyes were wide, and his breathing was harsh in the stillness of the room. He could only manage a nod for Jim to proceed. His ability for speech having long since fled. Jim unbuttoned the pants slowly, giving himself the time needed for restraint. He still ended up pulling Blair's pants off not enough in control to be gentle about it. The boxers were removed in similar fashion. It was all Jim could do not to punce as he got his first view of Blair's body sans clothing. His new lover was as beautiful as he had imagined him to be. His gaze was drawn to Blair's cock. It strained towards him, precum leaking from it's tip. Jim couldn't resist the urge to taste, and he leaned down to lick tentatively across the slit. This seemed to shock Blair back into speechfulness. "Oh God! Please Jim....." "What do you need, Blair?" Jim asked, his voice hoarse at his efforts for control. "I need.. to see you.. please..." Jim stood up from the bed, removing his clothing slowly and watching as Blair devoured him with his gaze. Finally he stood naked in front of his Guide. "Is this what you wanted, Blair?" Jim asked. "Yes," his Guide answered breathlessly. "Thats all you wanted?" Jim asked in mock dissapointment. "Just to see me?" he continued softly, his hand going up to tease his own nipples as he stared at his Guide hotly. "What did you want to see, Blair? Did you want to see my hands running over over my chest wishing it was your mouth instead?" he asked, moving closer to the bed. His hands moved ever so slowly down his torso, as his breathing increased in response to Blair's indrawn breath. "Hmm, maybe you wanted something else..." His hands moved down to take his cock in his hand and stroke it slowly. "Maybe this is what you wanted? Did you want to see this, Blair? Did you want to see...." "No.... I... it's not enough, Jim. I need you. I need to feel you... all of you..." Blair responded, his body writhing as he held on to what was left of his sanity. "You got me, Baby, you got me" Jim answered as he covered his Guide's body with his own, reveling in the feel of skin against skin. They moved together, they're bodies aching towards completion. It could not be desribed as graceful, they were too far gone. Blair arched against Jim's body as they moved against one another, their cocks straining against one another as they strived towards completion. Blair's eyes -- which had closed -- opened again as he heard Jim call his name. He looked up into his lover's face just in time to see the feral look in Jim's eyes before Jim's mouth descended to press tenderly against his. The whispered "I love you" was enough to send him over the edge, and he shuddered as his essence spilled between them. Jim threw his head back as he felt Blair shudder against him, his body freezing in shock as he felt his Guide bite the juncture between his neck and shoulder. The knowledge that his Guide had claimed him in this way was enough to set him howling even as his orgasm was ripped from his body. ********************** It took a long time before Jim felt able to move. Luckily he had fallen slightly to the side and so wasn't crushing the smaller man. When he got his breathing under control, he leaned over, picked up the keys from the bedside table, and uncuffed his Guide. He managed to drop keys and cuffs back on the table before collapsing back onto the bed. "Jim," his name was whispered drowsily as Blair smiled up at him, eyelids half closed. He gathered his Guide close to him on the narrow bed, smiling as Blair snuggled against him. "I love you, Blair," he said softly as he felt the other man relax against him preparing to sleep. "I love you too, Jim." Jim listened as Blair's breathing began to even out, The soft words were whispered against his chest, but he chuckled as he heard them, "This is by far the BEST relaxation technique ever!" The End.