Title: BREAKING UP IS HARD TO DO

Author/pseudonym: PEJA

Fandom: THE SENTINEL

Pairing: Blair/m

Rating: NC-17

Archive: WWOMB/ PEJAs Ravings. The story is available on request, but only if you ask first

E-mail: daltonavon@yahoo.com

Feedback: If you want another dose of this let me know

Series/Sequel: ????

Other websites: https://www.squidge.org/~peja/

Disclaimers: Do I have to give 'em back? Can't I keep 'em? I'll treat 'em god. Really I will....

Notes: m/m

Summary: Happy times dissolve when a past secret is revealed

Warnings: Blair Oooowies make Jim oooowies and I like it like that.

By PEJA

"Jim, you here, man?" Blair asked, wincing around his hoarse scratching throat. He tossed his keys in the basket by the door, then balancing the take-out boxes in one hand, slithered out of his jacket and hung it from the hook that had become his over the past few years.

Breathing hard from the minor exertions, he dragged ass into the kitchen. "Listen, man, I hope ya don't mind but I got Chinese take-out.." A frown drew his brows together over fever bright eyes. "Jim? Jim, are you here?"

He wandered into the living area and found his best friend sitting silent and unmoving on the sofa before a blank TV screen.

"Jim, you with me, man?" he asked, worry creeping into his voice.

"Want you to look at something, Sandburg." Jim pressed the play button and the screen flickered to life.

Blair's jaw dropped as he stared into familiar blue eyes, recognized his own reckless grin grinning at him. "Oh my god," Blair rasped. "Darien..."

"You remember him, huh? Must have been damn good. Funny, you never mentioned you dabbled in..." Jim's hand waved at the screen.

Blair watched, horrorified as his celluloid self swallowed the quivering cock in his hand. His rebelling stomach clentched as Darien thrust up into his hungry mouth.

"Where...." Blair swallowed the bile rising in his raw throat. "Where did you get that?"

Jim shrugged. "Little package delivered in the mail today."

Blair raked his hair back out of his face. "Jim...."

"You're giving this guy quite a blowjob, Sandburg," Jim said. "You must have gotten a lot of...practice." He pointed at the screen where Blair nibbled like a contented kitten on the other man's cock. "I particularily like this technique. Looks like he does too."

"Jim, I can explain..."

"What's to explain? You're a fucking porno queen. The evidence is right there."

Blair reeled like a man struck.

"Did you enjoy that as much as it looks like you did, Sandburg?" Jim ranted in his too calm voice, all the while watching the Blair image bring his shadow partner to completion. "So.... you like fucking a guy on screen?"

Blair's pale face drained completely. His feet carried him backward under the verbal assault.

"How long have you been fucking for money, Sandburg?"

"It wasn't like that," Blair mumbled, his hand fumbling for the doorknob. The door gave way to him and he bolted.

Jim hit rewind, never looking up from the screen.

*****************

"Where is he?" Simon boomed before Jim got the door more than a crack open. His big body slammed into the loft and he stormed through to the living room leaving huge wet footprints as he went. "You got one too?" he demanded, staring at the flickering screen.

Jim nodded, watching the scene he could recall even with his eyes closed. "He's really quite good, don't you think?"

Simon threw a hard look at his best detective. "Jim, are you all right?"

Jim laughed harshly. "Sure, why wouldn't I be?"

Simon shrugged away his worry. "Sandburg. Where is he? He's got some explaining to do."

"Oh, he said he could explain, all right."

"Jim, where the hell is Sandburg? His car is in the street, so he's got to be here, right? He wouldn't go out in this withouth his car."

"I suppose." Jim strode to Blair's little room and found it empty. "Check the balcony, Simon." His cutting gaze swept the room, sighting the take-out containers on the dining table. Several quick steps and he knew they'd been there a long time.

Simon stepped back into the loft, shivering against the biting rain. "He's not out there."

Jim's blue glance scoured the rest of the loft, then sighed. "Well, he's got to be here somewhere. His coat's on the rack. His keys are here too. And his pack. He wouldn't go anywhere without his....." Jim met Simon's dark gaze. "Would he?"

"You have a hiding place I don't know about, Jim?"

Not answering, Jim dashed up to his bedroom. Empty. He wandered back downstairs. "The bathroom?" he asked hopefully.

Simon shook his head. "He's not in the loft Jim. Not unless you killed him and hid the body in the freezer."

Jim's glance darted to the large appliance, shuddering.

"Hey, Jim, I was kidding."

Jim cringed under a thunderous crash. "He's out there." he said. "I drove him out in this storm. God, Simon, he doesn't even have his jacket. He'll catch his death."

"We don't know that, Jim." Simon said. "He's probably gone over to one of the other apartments. You know how he is. People flock to him like dogs to a meat store."

******************

Blair rested his beaded forehead against the wall and lifted a hand that felt weighted down by hundred pound lead. His fist hit the door once, sliding down only to be wrangled up once more, striking again. "Open open open, Darien Fawkes." he sighed, slumping his body against the cool wall.

His fist slammed against the door again and the door swung open.

"What the hell do you wan...." Darien scowled until recognition hit. "Blair...?"

Blair tilted a sickly grin at the other man from the film. "Hey, man? Wantta fuck me a movie?"

Darien caught Blair as his knees gave out and he began a slow slide toward the hardwood floor. "Christ, Blair, you're burning up. What the hell are you doing out in this storm?"

Fever bright eys twinkled. "I'm a street person, Darrie."

"What the hell are you talking about." Darien grumbled, drag-walking Blair over to the sofa and dumping him down. "And don't call me Darrie." He shoved Blair over to sit next to him where he lie. A hand touched Blair's damp forehead. "God, Blair. What's going on? Why aren't you home snuggled up in bed with that man you live with?"

"Don' live there anymore."

"Well sure you do. You..."

"....Im knows 'bout us," Blair slurred.

Darien froze. "What? How?"

"Blair Does Darrie," Blair mumbled. "Video...in mail...sleep...."

"Blair, no, you can't sleep here..."

Darien sighed as a soft snore broke over his protests. "So, Darien Fawkes," he asked himself softly. "What ya gonna tell Bobby about this one?"

-30-