TITLE: THREE LITTLE WORDS 11: Someday Sometimes Comes

AUTHOR: PEJA

FANDOM: the Sentinel

PAIRING: Jim/Rafe/Blair

RATING: R

SUMMARY: Let the games begin..

Disclaimers: Not mine, but they like to come and play in my back yard

Archive: To The WWOMB. Others on request, provided all headers are kept intact, and the entire series, found on the WWOMB, is housed together.

URL:  https://www.squidge.org/~peja/

Feedback: The series only survives as long as there is a call for more. Any ideas on direction are gratefully considered.

Email: daltonavon@yahoo.com

Rafe was devouring him. Eating him alive with hungry, blood-letting kisses that went straight to his groin.

A rumbling growl slipped between them and Blair tore at the fasteners on Rafe’s jean’s, his knowing fingers dipping in to scoop out the weeping cock.

He slanted a tiny smile up at Rafe from under thick lashes. "See how he cries for me?" Dropping sweet kisses along the way, scattering the occasional sharp nip on quickening flesh, he slid down Rafe’s body. Reaching his goal, he knelt before the engorged cock. "Soon, baby-boo. Daddy is gonna take real good care of you." He kissed the glistening tip, rubbing his full lips back and forth over the velvet head, coating his lips with the silky fluid.

With a sweet drawn out groan, Rafe drew Blair back up to kiss and lick away the shine on Blair’s lips. "Bed."

Blair froze in his arms.

Bed?

Jim was in that bed....

"No...I.." His glance flickered toward the bed, and the sleeping figure sprawled there. "Jim...We’d wake him."

Rafe chuckled. "Not much wakes him anymore." Rafe pointed toward Blair’s jeans. "Strip ‘em off."

Catching his lip in his teeth, Blair shucked off his jeans and tossed them carelessly into a corner.

Rafe smiled darkly. "Ah, my baby is a commando man."

A ghosting smile flashed over Blair’s face, swallowed up by a desire-drenched gasp when Rafe stroked Blair’s shoulder with the blunt edge of the razor.

"Oh, yeah, you’re something, aren’t ya?" Rafe swooped in, claiming a testing kiss.

Blair’s eyes drifted closed and he sighed wistfully. "Just what your doctor ordered, Rafe."

Laughing darkly, Rafe turned the blade just enough to draw blood, slicing a narrow cut into his bicep.

Blair arched up into the pain, his breath hissing through his teeth.

Rafe made a second matching slash then lapped up the seeping the wounds.

Blair whimpered, his hips thrusting against Rafe’s groin.

One-handed, Rafe grasped his hips, stilling the hungry thrusts. "Get on the bed."

"Please, Rafe," Blair rasped, his hands skimming over the bigger man’s lean frame.

Rafe’s fingers curled around Blair’s forearms, pressing him backwards until his legs met the mattress. "On the bed."

"We can do it on the floor. I don’t mind." Blair tried again.

"Well, I do." Rafe eased him down into the softness. "This ex-detective’s body doesn’t like hard floors, carpets be damned."

Blair’s apprehensive gaze darted to the sleeping sentinel lying beside him. "He...He’s not wearing a sleep mask."

"He doesn't need it anymore," Rafe murmured, nuzzling the crook of Blair's neck.

"Please, Rafe...Jim..."

Rafe leaned up on his elbows and spared a quick glance at his older lover. "You want to touch him, Blair?"

Blair's eyes widened. "No."

"Sure you do," He laced his fingers over Blair's hand and smoothed their locked hands over Jim's brawny chest.

"Rafe, this is....wrong." Blair whispered weakly. "If we wake him. Hell, when we wake him...."

"He won't wake up, Blair." Rafe cooed, his voice loud in the young whore's ears. "Jim's not even gonna know we're here unless we make him wake up." He grinned devilishly. "Want to have some fun with him?"

"N-No...."

Ignoring Blair’s reluctance, Rafe lightly brushed their joined hands over Jim’s nipple, teasing it’s arousal.

"Rafe, don’t..." Blair hissed, but the pert nub snagged on his fingers. Captured by the erect bud, Blair rolling the erect flesh between his thumb and forefinger.

The sleeping man stirred restlessly into the stimulation, a soft, hungry whimper parting his lips.

Blair jerked his hand back, staring at the slumbering creature beside him with open desire.

"Suckle him." Temptation whispered from Rafe’s lips.

Blair’s glance rocketed to Rafe. "Are you crazy?"

Rafe held the blade against Blair’s pec, pressing hard enough to draw a drop of blood. He leaned down and licked it away. "Suckle his nipple, Blair and I’ll give you a bit more of this."

"He’ll wake up." Blair rasped, his eyes darting between the blade that bite so good and the big man’s chest.

Temptation.

"And if he does?"

Uncertainty flickered in Blair’s eyes.

"Who loses if you give in to what you want, Blair?"

Blair shuddered against his own rampant desire.

"What he wants." Rafe guided Blair up on his side so he only had to lean forward to receive his prize.

"Claim him, Blair. Claim him for yourself."

Head whirling, Blair realized he had moved. His lips touched the fevered flesh of Jim’s pec. He kissed the warm muscled chest softly, once. And then again, his mouth slanting toward the tempting nip. And then he had his goal. He tongued the rigid flesh, making it glisten in the dim light.

The big man made a wuffling, pleasured sound, his back arching into Blair’s warm mouth.

Blair backed off quickly. "Rafe, this is wrong on so many levels."

Chuckling darkly, Rafe nudged him toward Jim. "Think of it as a mission of mercy. Saving Jim from...." He bit his lip, cutting off the stream of words that would reveal more than he was ready to share.

But Blair’s quick mind caught the slip. "Saving him from.... what?" he rasped.

Rafe could almost see the wheels grinding in Blair’s head. Could almost heat the pieces falling together as his eyes fell on the man sleeping without benefit of the night blind. His glance scoured the room, searching for the white noise machine Jim kept close at hand....The machine that now stood duty over the baby in the other room.

Memories of the past days shuffled through Blair’s mind. A dropped cup. A flinch against the light. A hand reaching out to seek the path. It had been so covert, so disregarded, that Blair hadn’t registered the episodes when Jim had seemed uncertain.

Or maybe he’s been so absorbed by his own despair to take any notice of Jim’s.

No excuse.

"He’s in trouble." The realization burst from his lips.

He turned on Rafe, eyes accusing and full of rage. "He’s in trouble, isn’t he?"

Rafe shrugged. "Not mine to tell."

Blair’s tortured gaze sought and found Jim. "And he won’t talk, will he?"

Another shrug.

"I...thought I was protecting him," Blair rasped. "I thought if....I disappeared he’d get on with his life...be safe...happy...."

"Blair, for such a brilliant man, you’re an idiot." Rafe said, lying back amongst the pillows and covering his eyes with one arm. "Didn’t you learn anything from Jim pushing you away? How it made you feel...Made you....vulnerable to attack?"

A vision of the fountain flashed before Blair’s mind’s eye and he shuddered. "Not very well, apparently."

Rafe nodded his agreement. "Jim....well, he loves me. I feed the material part of him...I know that. And like it or not, I accept it. I’ve been here for him, helping him through the rough spots when I can, holding him when he needed it...but you...Christ, man, you are his heart and soul. He can survive with me, but not well. He needs you to live."

END PART 11

One more to go...maybe two