Disclaimers: Not mine, never were, belong to the Powers That Be, who have better special effects but way less nice loft scenes :)

Notes: Many thanks, especially to shanny and to hooly and Noon for some *wonderful* beta-ing, and to my buddy mcvey for a crucial word change.

Summary: Jim, Blair, and some sweet talking.

Warnings: none

He by Owlet

Blair heard it even before he opened the door, coming home from an canceled conference on the shamanic mythos in South American societies. Coming through the door, sounds of rustling, shuffling, creaking furniture, muffled groans and words--the occasional muttered sentence that was almost too low to distinguish.

Blair stopped outside the door, holding his breath, trying to decipher the words resonating faintly through the door.

"Fingers wrapping strong and hard along his lover's cock, the sensation excruciating, setting off sparks of feeling along my spine... his fingers hard around my cock..." Blair almost fell down. *You're kidding...Jim's jerking off?*

*Wait a minute...I could have sworn that was two "hims" in there.* Blair stopped, considering. *Two guys? Jim's jerking off to two guys?*

*What the fuck?*

He pushed against the door, easing it open just slightly, and saw Jim on the couch, the coffee table pushed forward from its usual spot. Jim was shirtless, his legs spread wide and propped up on the coffee table, head leaning back against the back of the couch, eyes closed. Too wrapped up in what he was doing to notice the stunned man in the doorway, Jim suddenly groaned softly and tossed his head restlessly, then shifted to a better position, eyes flying open to look sightlessly across the room.

A sudden surge of arousal threatened to overwhelm Blair, as the image of his fantasies came to life before him. Jim, trembling visibly, leaning back against the sofa, his handsome angled face tense and blue eyes dark, arm moving that long-fingered elegant hand in an unmistakable rhythm just out of Blair's sight. For a moment he wondered if he was dreaming, then Jim's strong voice, husky and panting slightly now, murmured again to his unseen listener.

"He...pinching my nipples, stroking me hard..." An unmistakable gasp punctuated the whisper, and Jim shuddered visibly.

And even though it was suicide, Blair acted.

Jim liked guys? No. It was impossible, incredible--and unarguable.

Jim liked guys.

Now the question became, could he like Blair?

*Oh god, you've got to be kidding me...*

*I can't stop, I can't hold back...*

With a jerk he pushed the door open the rest of the way and forced his feet to travel the remainder of the distance inside. Shutting the door hard, he interrupted Jim in mid-sentence. "Jim."

Jim jumped and surged to his feet, whirling to face Blair, his face a crimson mask of humiliation and arousal. Blair stared at him, his eyes automatically zeroing in on Jim's uncovered fly, and the heavy, purplish erection straining from it. "Blair...I..."

Blair walked into the room, transfixed by the sight of his reserved, tough-guy partner, embarrassed at being caught in the middle of a heavy jerk-off session and flushing to the roots of his hair even as he tried to stuff one of the most mouth-watering pieces of meat Blair had ever seen back into his trousers. "Jesus. God, Jim." Desire, recognized and argued against for so long, was currently making a strong case for action, and Blair had to fight the urge to pounce his roommate and beat him to the ground.

Jim was rigid with embarrassment, still fruitlessly trying to put himself to rights. "Blair, what are you doing here?! You weren't supposed to be back until tomorrow!"

"The water pipes at the hotel broke," Blair said distractedly, walking toward the couch in a daze, unable to take his gaze off his obviously unhappy roommate. "They've rescheduled the conference for next week."

"Well, for god's sake, *call* next time!" Jim yelled helplessly, giving in to his cock's refusal to abate and go back inside his pants and settling for dropping his hands to his sides. Blair stared at Jim, standing there with red flags of color flying on his cheeks and a rampant erection that still thrust outward, begging for attention.

"My god," he breathed, his mouth, as usual, running on auto-pilot while his brain detached from active duty, "how long were you at it? You look like you're about to explode..."

Blair's brain did a double take, muttered something about insane anthropologists, and started screaming at him to run. For a minute, Blair almost listened. He didn't think Jim had ever looked so furious.

Neither of them were prepared when Jim lost his enraged look to a look of intense agony, doubling over with a low, hoarse cry, hands going to hover over his cock. "Jim? Jim, what's wrong?"

"Hurts," came the low, tense reply. "Blair, just...please just...oh, god!" came the humiliated murmur.

"Jim, what is it?" Blair was on his knees now beside the trembling detective, one hand on Jim's leg while he tried to figure out the problem, ignoring Jim's weak efforts to first push him away, then to escape himself. "Is it your senses? Jim?"

A long pause, while Jim visibly struggled with both his body and his inhibitions, while Blair tried frantically to think what could be wrong, and how he could fix it. Then, at last, the agonized statement, "Help me."

"Help you how, Jim?" Blair queried anxiously. "What's wrong? Tell me what's wrong!"

"Went on...too long," was the whisper, and Blair rocked back on his heels as he understood. That erection wasn't the product of a few minutes of play--Jim must have been jerking off for a while, and he must have been close to coming when Blair had interrupted him. Blair could sympathize, having been nearly there himself, when the temptation to make the pleasure last forever was nearly overwhelming, and he would spend hours teasing himself, making himself feel good.

But there was always a danger with that sort of pleasure, when it went too far. And now Jim's body, denied both stimulation and relief after so much sweet torture, was rebelling. Blue balls--possibly the most ridiculous-sounding malady in the male arsenal, but the most agonizing to experience.

"Oh man," Blair murmured, running a soothing hand over Jim's back again and again, "that totally sucks, man."

Jim glared at him balefully. Blair barely noticed, caught in the worry of how to help his friend.

"We've got to relieve the pressure, Jim," he announced finally.

Jim snarled at him. "What's this 'we', Sandburg," he growled, shuddering as waves of pain washed through him. His eyes glazed over, then snapped back into pain-sharp focus as Blair gently pried one of his hands away from his groin. "What the fuck are you doing?"

Blair ignored Jim's flailing hands and leaned forward, directing a cool stream of air against the swollen red-purple head of Jim's cock. Jim jerked and swore helplessly, and his cock twitched hungrily. Blair smirked and grabbed his hand as he came to his feet, pulling Jim back toward the couch.

"Come on, Jim," he coaxed, tugging lightly at the reluctant man following him. "Just lie down, that's it..." He kept up a constant contact between them, stroking gently, rubbing the tense muscles, aching for Jim. God, he knew what it must feel like for Jim, feeling so aroused, so damn *good*, for so long, that the pleasure without warning turned to equally devastating pain.

Well, he was going to fix that. Very carefully, and very thoroughly. And then they were going to have a nice long talk about what Jim was doing jacking off to gay thoughts in the first place.

Once Jim was horizontal on the couch, body rigid and face contorted with the effort to control the pain, Blair began his campaign.

Slow and gentle. When he thought about it, Jim's senses had to be going off the scale about now, and Blair didn't want to overload them totally. Carefully he breathed a feather-light path weaving through Jim's groin, riffling the wiry curls at the base of that tempting shaft. Jim moaned, shuddering in a knife-edge combination of pleasure and pain.

"Where are your senses, Jim?" Blair whispered, meeting Jim's eyes, needing to hear Jim tell him what was going on. The shock and hunger and pain and hope in Jim's eyes made his gut clench. Catching his breath, he steadied himself and licked with experimental delicacy at the edge of Jim's glans.

Jim choked for a moment, flinched, then gritted out, breathlessly, "All the way up. Can't get them down--Blair!" he yelled as Blair licked at his sore, aching balls. "Jesus--that *hurts,* Sandburg!"

Blair winced and withdrew, considering his partner, spread out like a feast and in too much pain to touch, but aching in agony for release.

So...maybe he just wouldn't touch. He could do that, right?

"Jim...listen to my voice, okay? I'm not going to touch you--the dial's up too high. So just listen to me. Let my voice carry you. Okay?

"Can you feel the warmth of my hands, Jim? Not touching you, no pain, they're just hovering over your skin...they want to touch you, Jim, so badly, but they can't. They love you too much, my hands love you too much to cause you any pain.

"Have you ever imagined what it's really like between two guys? Not just some one-night-stand, not just experimenting, but real love, real caring--I have. I think about it a lot.

"Have you ever thought about someone touching you? I know you have. I heard you. But have you ever thought about what it *means*?

"Have you ever imagined someone's hands on you, loving you because they *do* love you? Not for any other reason than because they want to give you pleasure, because it gives them pleasure?

"Have you ever imagined someone holding you, touching you, sliding their hands down to hold that beautiful cock in their hand, playing with it? Because god, you're beautiful, Jim, all thick power and flushed color and heavy, solid strength--you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I could come just looking at you like this.

"Would you like that, Jim? That I'm shaking and hard and wishing I could come, just from looking at you like this, so hot, so beautiful...

"Jesus, Jim, what a time to tell you I'm in love with you."

Beneath him Jim shouted, jerked, and shuddered in climax, his heavy erection shooting creamy come into the air. But when it was over, as he lay panting and shivering, he was still hard, still wanting--needing. Blair carefully scooped up a fingerful of come from Jim's cock and licked it off slowly, smiling into Jim's eyes.

"You taste so good, Jim. I could eat you up, all the way, and still want more. You're made me so hungry, lover.

"Have you ever imagined someone licking you? Taking you into his mouth, teasing you with his tongue where you're so sensitive--I bet it wouldn't take much for you to lose it then, Jim. Not long at all. Tongue and lips and teeth and wet hot suction--oh, you'd be begging for it, screaming for it.

"Would you like me to do that to you? Make you crazy, make you hot, make you scream?"

Jim said hoarsely, "I'm crazy now."

Blair closed his eyes as Jim's simple response shook him to the core, and he trembled in an attempt to retain control. "How are your senses? The dials must be off the charts, aren't they? You can't control the sensations anymore, but you love it, love the intensity of the pleasure.

"And oh, those senses are so rich in potential for the man who knows about them. It wouldn't be hard for him to realize what drove you crazy, just how hot you could get. Not hard at all--for someone who knew what they could be for you.

"Have you ever imagined *that,* Jim?

"And have you ever imagined someone licking you lower than your cock, lover? Running his tongue along your soft, sensitive balls, making you cry because it feels so good, then moving lower, lower, until he's licking your perineum. And then he's licking your asshole, and it's spasming, and all those nerves there are crying out, wanting more. And he gives you more, until you're crying too, spreading your legs for what you want from him."

Jim's next orgasm was silent, but even more intense than the first. Blair trembled himself, seeing the panting, shaking man his words had reduced Jim to--and seeing the hungry cock, eager for more of those words, more of the images he was spinning for Jim's relief. This was going *so* far beyond the simple relief he'd planned for Jim, going into areas he hadn't even known existed, and it almost as devastating to himself as to Jim. He could feel fluid from his leaking cock dampening his jeans, and panted as he drew breath for his next sally.

"And that someone knows what you want, and gives it to you, hot and hard and stretching, all those nerves in your ass stretched and stimulated and shrieking in pleasure, and it feels so good to have him inside you.

"And you're tight, and hot, and so awfully, *wonderfully* *good* and I'm sobbing as I reach out and grab your cock, looking for an anchor, and it anchors me to pleasure you, so I do. I stroke you, just here, just under the head--" and Blair reached out and touched the spot on the underside of the head of Jim's cock, and Jim arched up and screamed harshly, pushing himself into Blair's hands.

"And you do that, you do just that," Blair continued, eyes wide as he watched Jim writhe under his hand, "and it pushes me further into you, and you stretch even further, and you can't take it any more--"

And Jim was coming, thrashing all over the couch and shouting, screaming, begging Blair to touch him, to fuck him. Blair whimpered slightly, watching him, and felt himself come, his untouched cock twitching and shooting in his jeans.

After what seemed like years, Jim calmed, and his breathing evened out. His cock was finally limp, laying in a mess of come against his stomach. His eyes were closed, and he was smiling faintly, lines of exhaustion etched around his eyes. Blair watched him, and thought that he'd never seen anyone look so beautiful.

He was falling asleep, and Blair painfully levered himself up, intending to leave him to sleep in peace. The hand that grabbed his was a surprise, and he was unable to resist as it relentlessly, inexorably drew him downward to lay sprawled over Jim's body. He looked up at Jim uncertainly--what was Jim doing?--and something in him relaxed at the peaceful, contented look on Jim's face.

"The someone was always you."

The whisper took him by surprise, as he hovered on the edge of his own sated sleep, and for a moment he tried to rouse himself, to answer it. But Jim's heart was pounding beneath his cheek, and every bone in his body had melted, and there was time enough for Blair to talk to Jim later, wasn't there?

Besides, Jim was already asleep.

Damn, he loved this man.

The End