Blair's first impulse on entering the loft and finding it cluttered with boxes, packing peanuts, tissue paper, clear plastic bags and clothes draped over everything, was to look for the gunman holding Jim at bay while he trashed the place. The second, on seeing his lover sitting in the midst of it all, thoughtfully rubbing the collar of a dress shirt between his thumb and forefinger, was to lay a palm on the big cop's forehead and check for a fever or head injury. The third - though the most boring - was to say, "Let me guess; something happened to the one good suit shirt you had left."
Without a word Jim lifted his arm, showing the long, jagged rip in the side. "Prisoner at the courthouse decided to make a break for it. God knows why, considering it's one place guaranteed to be filled with people with guns to prevent exactly that. At least I wasn't wearing the jacket."
Going over to sit in the middle of the mess with him, Blair said, "I knew you were planning on trying the catalog shopping thing after that incident with the so-called clerk at your favorite store." Picking up one of the unopened cartons, he dug out his Swiss army knife and slit the tape on the top. "How many did you order from?"
"Eleven; they've been stacking up at the shipping place because I haven't had time to claim them. And that kid giving me a hard time over wanting to test the fabric before trying on the shirts was just the last straw." He made a face. "Shopping! Give me a high-speed chase with armed bank robbers any day. Less traffic headaches and you met a better brand of people than your average sales clerk."
Hiding his amusement, thinking it at least had as much to do with the noise, smells, and constant sensory irritations of the mall, Blair just nodded and scooped out styrofoam peanuts. "And it has nothing at all to do with a pimple-faced kid telling big, badassed cop Jim Ellison that 'only fags care what a shirt feels like,' of course."
"As I recall," Jim shot back, "You were the one who lectured him for ten minutes on cultural misconceptions."
"Hey, at that age having a teacher doing the boring lecture routine is worse than getting your ass kicked." He put the box where his lover could look through it and asked, "Why so much though?"
"Wanted to find a company or two that sells what I like and get it over with. Easier to do it all at once than try to keep track of them," Jim muttered distractedly. "Why does every last one feel like it's made of cardboard?" Taking the one Blair had set aside for him, he started unwrapping yet another shirt.
Ignoring the familiar complaint, but knowing perfectly well the damage a too-stiff cuff or collar could do to sentinel-sensitive skin, Blair simply finished emptying out the box he held, sure he could eliminate the more obvious mistakes to save time. "If all else fails, pick out the best and we'll wash it to death tonight so you have what you need for court tomorrow. Not a substitute for a soft and comfortable shirt, I know, but better than showing up in a tank top."
"Call it a plan, Chief."
They worked companionably side by side, then Blair found a package that looked like the shipping company had used it for a soccer ball before delivering it. Handling it gingerly, he cut one of the rips in it wider and immediately thought, "Pay dirt."
The garment sitting on top of the scrambled contents was a silver gray that would look terrific with Jim's black suit, and the fold of the fabric looked fluid, not like it was cut from thick paper. Ignoring the other boxes waiting for his lover's attention, he handed his discovery over. "Check this one out."
Hoping for other promising candidates, Blair plunged one hand back into the carton and froze, mouth going dry and heart beat picking up speed like a locomotive gaining momentum for an uphill climb. He was up to his wrist in an angora sweater that felt as soft and fluffy as he'd once imagined clouds were, and just as white. Piled to one side of it were several pairs of black stockings that had rhinestone patterns glued over the ankle area.
Licking suddenly arid lips, Blair glanced over at Jim, who was carefully unfolding the shirt he'd been given, fingers lingering over the material. Sure enough, the buttons were on the left hand side of the garment, though Jim hadn't noticed - or didn't care. A wild hope and wilder lust hit him, but he lifted up the sweater and a pair of the stockings and said with shocking calm, "Uh, Jim?"
He glanced Blair's way, then, looking mildly surprised, snagged a bit of the sweater and fingered it. "Not bad." Then he tilted up the box it hung out of. "J. Ellison, but the address is smeared." He ran a thumb ran over the label and added, "Not ours. Shipping company must have assumed it belonged with the other 'J Ellison' packages."
"Oh. Pity, that one looks like it could have been a real winner." Hiding his disappointment, Blair made himself put the stockings back in the carton. Before the sweater could follow, Jim stripped off his ruined shirt and held up the new one to his chest.
"Whoever she is, she's got to be a big woman," he said reflectively. "This looks like it could fit."
Heart skyrocketing back up from the pit it had been sinking into, Blair said with studied casualness, "Couldn't hurt to try it on. Some women's clothes are so gender neutral you could wear them without anyone being the wiser who they were made for. And the fabric tends to be, uh, better." He substituted the last word for 'sexy' without a noticeable stutter.
"Shoulders could be a problem," Jim said, undoing the buttons to shrug the new one on. His fingers fumbled for a second on the unfamiliar configuration, and Blair lurched forward, sweater still in hand, to help him. Whether from over-eagerness or because his nerves weren't quite steady, he lost his balance and tumbled into Jim.
Strong arms came up around him, accidentally capturing his upraised hands between their chests. "Easy!" A second later, Jim added, "Definitely nice."
With an impish grin, Blair deliberately rubbed the soft material over his lover's pecs. "I'll bet. Hey!" He stroked the fuzzy stuff more slowly over Jim, this time paying attention to the minute drag he felt.
Looking down at himself, Jim plucked at a spot over his sternum and said mildly, "Time to wax again."
"Wax? Your chest hair?" Blair asked in some surprise.
Shrugging, Jim answered, "Not that there was ever much there. Lots of guys who work out with free weights either shave or wax. Easier to wipe off the sweat and less irritation from fabric dragging over your skin during reps."
"I didn't know you did that!Doesn't it hurt?"
"No reason for you to," Jim said off-handedly. "Usually I take care of it at the gym; by now it's like brushing my teeth. Nearly automatic and not worth saying anything about. And it isn't that bad." He grinned suddenly. "Dials help a lot."
"Cool." Blair scrubbed lightly at the nearly imperceptible stubble. "I've always loved how smooth and clean you look," he admitted.
"Mmmm." Eyelids going to half-mast, Jim nudged Blair's hand to send the angora over a rapidly hardening nipple. "There's a lot to be said for furry," he argued.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." Jim leaned down, lips aimed unerringly for Blair's and kissed him until they were both breathless. From there things rapidly progressed until they wound up in the bed upstairs, naked except for the opened shirt Jim seemed to have forgotten and Blair didn't want to remove from his lover.
Telling himself it was only incidental, he nevertheless continuously ran the very tips of his fingers over where it and Jim's skin met as he pumped hard and fast into the tight, hot body. It was over far too quickly, but was very satisfying despite that, and he collapsed on Jim's chest, panting, still trying to dig in deeper into the hot channel. "This just keeps getting better and better and better," he gasped.
Stretching luxuriously, but being careful to keep Blair in him, Jim mumbled something that sounded like an agreement. Lazily playing with one of the many curls scattered over him, he said more clearly, "You seemed seriously inspired this time, though. You like the shaving thing that much?"
"Um," Blair said noncommittally, and added hastily as if in explanation, "You ever think about doing it other places?"
"You mean, like pubic hair? Yeah, did it for the hell of it with a lover right after I got out of the military. Made me as sensitive as hell and led to some pretty explosive sex. Growing it back was an itchy nightmare, though."
"Hardly worth the fun of shaving, was it?" Blair chuckled. "I think I tried that like, four times total, tops. You're right - waaayyyy sensitive."
"If you like," Jim said sleepily, "We could do that."
"Really?" Blair leaned up on an elbow to look down into his lover's face. They hadn't been together as a couple long enough for him to really know much about what Jim *did* like, outside of the obvious, and it was a little surprising that his normally conservative partner was willing to experiment.
"Mmmhmm," Jim murmured.
Feeling an interested twitch in his cock, Blair asked, "Can I do you and you do me?"
"Sure. Better save it for the weekend, though." Internal muscles flexed, hugging Blair intimately, Jim went on, "I have a feeling we're both not only going to be sensitive, but sore the next day."
"That could happen." Blair rocked forward ever so slightly, then drew back the same amount and ate up Jim's contented sigh in a hungry, open-mouthed kiss which pretty much ended conversation for the rest of the night.
Next morning he woke to his normal groggy haze and stumbled downstairs toward the smell of caffeine and the sounds of Jim moving around in the loft. Sipping at his first mug of coffee, he hid his smile at the tidy living room and tidier stack of boxes by the door. A few weren't sealed yet, but before he could call out a question, Jim came out of Blair's office, a permanent marker and new roll of packing tape in hand.
Nearly choking on the hot beverage, Blair hastily put aside his cup, and took strict control of himself before the sentinel could notice his reaction.
Jim was dressed in his black suit and tie for court - wearing under it the gray woman's blouse he'd mistakkenly opened the night before.
Apparently sensing *something* from him, Jim stopped mid step and shot him a concerned look. "Chief?"
"You have no idea how good you look right now, do you?" Blair said honestly, if mis-leadingly. "You come off all big and male and dangerous in that dark suit, and the gray shirt lights up your eyes to an absolutely *brilliant* blue. Between those two things, you make any body with half a hormone in them want to beg you to fuck them."
A touch of shy pleasure colored Jim's expression, and the small half-grin he got when unexpectedly happy about something made its appearance. After coming over to give his Blair a good morning kiss, he said, "It was the best of the lot, especially after I washed it a few times. I figure between the tie and jacket, no one will notice which way it buttons."
"How's the fit?" Blair asked, trying to remember the size he'd seen on the tag.
"Not too bad though it could use some tailoring." Jim leaned into him for a moment then went back to his packaging. "I put a check and note explaining that I received the box accidentally and opened it before noticing it wasn't mine. That should keep the company happy."
Surreptitiously wiping sweaty palms on his robe, Blair said nonchalantly, "Why don't I finish that up for you? I know you like getting to the courthouse early to get a good parking spot."
Jim hesitated a moment, then nodded and handed him the tape as he came over. "Want me to call you when the judge breaks for lunch recess so we can eat together?"
"The Vegetable Garden?" Blair asked, summoning a teasing tone of voice.
"Don't push your luck, Sandburg," Jim sad with a mock growl, then kissed him, picked up his coat and left, still grinning.
Dashing to the balcony as soon as he heard the truck pull out, Blair watched it until it was out of sight, then scurried over to stack of packages, relieved to see the one he wanted hadn't been sealed yet. Hurriedly he looked at the packing list, then wrote out a check of his own to put in the envelope with Jim's. Taking out the angora sweater, he carried his prize to his office and hid it in a box of old clothes he had stored there.
With great mental effort, he put it out of his mind and concentrated on getting through the morning.
As it wore on, though, it wasn't his secret treasure that kept popping into his mind and distracting him, it was the simple knowledge that Jim was walking around wearing a woman's blouse. The very idea that his ultra-masculine lover was garbed, however discreetly, in feminine clothes, preyed on him until he broke land-speed records getting to Jim at lunch. Which for them turned out to be a hasty, but ravenous blowjob in the men's room at the courthouse.
Within weeks it had become such a tradition for them to spend a trial recess that way, that Blair didn't even object when Jim retired the gray shirt to 'special occasion' status. Not knowing when he was going to be surprised by it and the guilty secret of the hidden sweater was all the spice their love life needed.
Especially after he started shaving Jim's body hair.
True to Jim's prediction, it was something they had to save for rare, special weekends. Blair loved performing the service for his partner, loved watching the creamy smooth skin appear under his razor, loved the intimacy of what he was doing for him, loved how it turned Jim into a raving sex monster. They hadn't guessed that would happen; the only other time Jim had tried shaving was before his sentinel gifts had awakened. With his sense of touch at its natural level, removing the hair from the already sensitive skin of his groin cranked Jim's libido up to a height Blair wouldn't have believed if he hadn't been on the receiving end of it. Literally.
Unfortunately the stubble growing back in made even the silkiest boxers a torment, and any activity that caused clothing to rub - like chasing after criminals - raised a rash, so it wasn't something Jim was willing to do very often. The one time they tried shaving Blair, nice as the immediate result had been, turned into a week of no sex before his hair grew back in enough not to painfully irritate the sentinel.
It was a small loss, though, from an admittedly active and satisfying love life, so neither really missed it. If, once in a great while, Blair needed to jerk off for some reason, and retired to his office to take care of it, it wasn't really important that he would hold the sweater to his chest while he stroked himself, thinking of Jim.
***
Mind immersed in the text on the screen, Blair didn't really think about his answer when Jim asked him where his old sweats were. Instead he mumbled, "Changing the oil in the truck?"
"Want me to do the Volvo, too?"
"Please - check the box in my office in the left hand side of the closet."
About three minutes later a part of him noticed his partner had been in the office for a long time, and yet another part reminded him that Jim looking in *that* box wasn't the best thing in the world. Standing so abruptly he nearly upset his chair, already thinking up and discarding a dozen excuses for still having the sweater, Blair called out nervously, "Jim?"
Not waiting for an answer, he scrambled for the office door and found Jim kneeling in front of the half-emptied carton, hands hovering over it and wearing a blank expression on his face. Thanking whatever deity was in the general vicinity for the existence of zone-outs, Blair carefully pushed the box to one side, took out the sweater and shoved it between the wall and his desk. Only then did he cup Jim's face between his palms.
"Hey in there," he said softly, trying to decipher which sense had Jim in thrall. There was no immediate response, so he ran the ball of his thumb over the partially open lower lip and coaxed, "Come on back, lover."
Eyes focusing abruptly, Jim growled quietly, deep in his chest, then took Blair's mouth in a hard, devouring kiss. Caught completely off guard, all Blair could do was go along for the ride, arms wrapped around Jim's neck in an attempt to keep his balance. A moment later he was on his back under the bigger body, and his last coherent thought before he was toppled into brain consuming lust was, "Oh, *this* is what getting ravished feels like."
Some interminable amount of time later, Blair lay flat on his back in the middle of their big bed and stared at the ceiling wondering, 'a,' when did they get up here and 'b,' why didn't he remember doing it? Belatedly he added a 'c.' What in the hell got into Jim, not that he was complaining. Despite the hickeys, bites, bruises and seriously sore ass, he'd never felt better in his life. He just wanted a repeat performance somewhere down the line when he was better prepared to appreciate it.
Turning his head cautiously, Blair looked over at his lover and smiled smugly. Jim was wearing his own assortment of love marks, plus smug smile, and snoring softly into the mattress. Not willing to move anytime soon, Blair went back to studying the ceiling, letting his thoughts wander where they may.
Eventually other times Jim had been out of control surfaced for his consideration, and not long after that, the name Laura McCarty swam up. Pheromones, he thought sleepily. Jim must be acclimated to mine by now, and a lot of 'horny guide' scent has to be in that sweater. Since he wasn't expecting anything out of the ordinary, the combination must have hit him right in the gonads. Puzzle solved, he started to drift off into his own nap, deciding distantly he needed to hide the angora in a better place.
Maybe because he was so sated and sleepy, or maybe because he tended to think of himself as the 'sentinel thing' problem solver, it never occurred to him to consider that *Jim* might want an explanation for his sudden irresistible need. For that reason, Blair didn't connected their inspired afternoon session with a certain amount of thoughtfulness on Jim's part, or the occasional considering looks sent his way.
It certainly was the farthest thing from his mind when Jim mentioned the following weekend that it was time for him to wax again and would Blair like to give him a hand? Eagerly Blair gathered the necessary supplies and attached the hand held showerhead that allowed Jim to lie comfortably in the tub while being shaved. The back and bottom were padded with thick towels, both for cushioning and to provide a non-skid surface to work on, and Jim turned up the heat so they could both be naked without getting cold. Grinning, Blair added a tube of KY to the rest of the gear; experience had taught him to keep it handy.
The waxing took a surprisingly short time, and though Blair winced every time he peeled the stuff away to reveal smooth, slightly irritated skin, Jim didn't so much as jump. Head back, eyes closed, he let lover tend to him, dick already at half-mast. In no hurry whatsoever, Blair smoothed an unscented lotion into the reddened area, then sat back on his heels between Jim's thighs to reach for the shaving gel and razor.
To give him room to work, Jim propped a foot on the side of the deep tub, toes brushing the small table that sat next to it to hold the needed odds and ends. He sighed in pleasure when Blair worked up a rich lather and obligingly lifted his backside to allow him to spread it all the way down.
Though there was soft jazz playing on the stereo in the living room, the rest of the loft was quiet. Neither Jim nor Blair spoke, the latter because he was giving his full concentration to navigating around a delicate area with a sharp instrument, and the former because he didn't want to disturb that concentration. Blair thought the whole procedure was very zen, actually, and wondered what Jim thought about while he was being shaved. Rinsing away the last scraps of shaving cream, he slid his hand along the silky flesh to look for missed spots - and to savor the feel of it - and grinned. If the rigid pole standing up so nakedly from the baby smooth skin was any hint, he had a pretty good idea of what his lover had been thinking about.
Gently patting dry balls and perineum in preparation for the lotion, he said idly, "I like this so much that one of these days I'm not going to stop until I've reached your toes."
To his surprise, Jim gently pulled away and sat up, leaning forward to catch and hold Blair's chin on the tips of the fingers of his left hand. Tilting up his face until they were eye to eye, he asked softly, "Chief, is there something you want to tell me? About a kink of yours, maybe?"
Swallowing hard, knowing his body was already betraying him, Blair braced himself to pile bullshit six feet deep while getting out of punching range as fast as possible. To his horror, his mouth opened and said all by itself, "How'd you find out?"
Jim had the grace to look a little embarrassed. "After my cave man act the other day, I went back into your office to see if I could figure out what triggered it. And found an angora sweater that was drenched in your scent and made me instantly hard. I remembered it being from the same shipment as the gray shirt you love so much, added the occasional hint that you wouldn't mind if I shaved smooth all over - and came up with the thought you would really, really like it if I, ah, had a taste for wearing woman's clothing."
Trusting the serenity in his lover's eyes and the gentleness in the hold on him, Blair managed a weak laugh. "Busted. I've had a thing for cross-dressers ever since I can remember."
"You don't get off on doing it yourself?" Jim asked with mild curiosity.
Dropping a kiss into the palm nearest his chin, Blair broke his stasis and reached for the bottle of lotion, admitting, "Tried it, but other than thinking I made a pretty cute girl, it didn't do anything for me." Eyebrow going up in a sort of mock challenge, he teased, "Though the girlfriend whose clothes I borrowed damn near raped me."
"You have that effect on people sometimes," Jim said dryly, lightly fingering the faint remains of a love bite on one sturdy shoulder. "And you are way more than cute."
"Hear me complaining? That was so, so..." At a rare loss of words Blair waved his hand in the air, scattering drops of lotion. "Incredible!" he finished finally.
Jim lay back in the tub again, again offering himself up for Blair's attentions. "Just keeps getting better and better," he quoted from an earlier conversation they had on kinky sex.
"Yeah." Obeying the mute request to carry on, Blair dribbled a good amount of lotion where it was needed and began massaging it in. They returned to their pleasant silence, but a minute or so later he had to ask, "So *have* you thought of trying on a dress or whatever? I can see you doing it, you've always been so at home in your skin as far as the whole sex thing. For laughs or maybe for the job?"
"Hasn't come up before, not even when I was in vice." Silence reigned again, then Jim added, "Wouldn't mind doing it for you."
"Huh?" Blair wasn't sure he heard correctly.
"We can do that, if you want, Chief," Jim repeated, using a 'no big deal' tone of voice.
Blinking at him in confusion, not fooled in the least by the off-hand way the offer was made, Blair said softly, "You don't have to."
Giving one of his rare, wide, sweet smiles Jim said, "I know I don't and I doubt I'll look anywhere near as good as 'cute.' But I'm willing to give it a shot." He sat up a bit and said, "Hey, if you don't want me to..."
"No, no, it's not that," Blair stuttered hastily, not able to do anything but stare at Jim. Love and lust in a dizzying, terrifying mix exploded through him, leaving his hands shaking and his cock painfully hard. Unnecessarily adding to his need was the sight of his lover's long, buff body sprawled wantonly in front of him, the lack of body hair making him naked than naked, and utterly fuckable.
With a soft moan Blair scrambled over Jim until he could take his mouth, tongue forcing its way into the steamy cavern in a demand for submission that Jim willingly gave. Both were too slippery to get a good grip on each other, forcing him to lock both hands at the back of Jim's head and depend on his greater strength to brace them in the tub. That left Blair with all the mobility and freedom to touch and he took full advantage, rubbing over Jim in a tactile frenzy that soon had the sentinel making begging noises into their kiss. When he couldn't deny either of them any longer, Blair used the sides of the tub to lever himself up and crouched over the hard shaft standing straight up from Jim's body.
"Blair!" Jim moaned, hips lifting involuntarily in vain hope of finding the opening he needed.
"Gotta have you in me," Blair muttered, lowering himself, using the strength of his arms. "Hang on, hang on... you're going to get it. God, are you going to get it!"
"I can't..." Jim tried to thrust up properly, but his feet slipped and he started to slide down. He had to dig in with his heels at the foot of the tub to stay in place.
"I can, I will," Blair promised. "Look at my pucker, babe. See how close it is? Gonna take you in me, take *all* of you in me."
"Now, now, now..."
"Yes!" Blair dropped onto the steely cock, impaling himself completely and ripping a howl out of both of them. Amazingly, neither came, though the first shout of it had their balls pulled up tight and hard against their bodies. "Don't let us shoot yet," he demanded, not sure whether it was of himself or Jim. "Not yet!"
Though he groaned, almost in pain, Jim shot out a hand to where their bodies met, pulled hard on his own nuts, then pinched the head of Blair's hard-on in the way he'd learned would derail him from climaxing.
"Good, good," Blair approved instantly despite his grimace of discomfort. "Make us last, okay?"
"Don't... oh, god, Blair!" Jim helplessly bucked into the weight that fell onto him, back bowing up from the porcelain in a bid to answer the need to fuck.
"Not yet, not yet, not yet," Blair chanted to himself, pulling almost all the way off Jim's cock. Shoving back down, he had to wait a second, needing to find some air, but Jim whimpered, pinching his own nipples, eyes rolled back up in his head. Without meaning to, Blair clenched around the rod inside of him, body thrumming with the erotic power of the sight in front of him. Deep inside, Jim's cock throbbed in response and that was simply too much for his overloaded libido to take.
Grunting with each jab down, Blair began to ride fast and hard, head thrown back, soaking up the intense pleasure from each stroke. Finally he could absorb no more, and it burst from him in a thick jet of hot cream that took all his strength with it.
He crumpled on top of Jim, barely feeling his lover's seed gushing into him, too wasted to do more than murmur his joy into the throat under his lips. They lay together doing nothing more than trying to breath without gasping until Blair shivered from the cooling of his sweat and the cold tub around them. At that Jim reached over to snag one of the plush towels folded on the little table and dropped it over Blair's back.
"We should take this upstairs," Jim said, making no other effort to move.
"Mmmm," Blair agreed, not moving either. "Probably should wash off some, first."
"Probably."
Another minute or two passed, then Jim said thoughtfully, "I have to go to Seattle next month to testify in that federal case. Want to come with me, take a few days after to see the sights?"
"Sounds good."
"We could do the dress up thing then, if you like, though I think you'd better pick out the wardrobe." Jim lazily kissed the ear nearest his lips. "I know what I like on a woman, but don't have a clue what you'd like to see on me - besides angora."
He finished with a definite teasing note in his voice, but Blair propped himself up by his elbows on Jim's chest so he could look down into his face. "You're serious. Not just humoring me to get laid like I thought. You'd really put on a dress for me."
"Why wouldn't I?"
Jim met the penetrating gaze easily, but Blair couldn't help saying with some suspicion, "No roar of outrage at the insult to your manhood, no beating on your chest to prove that even if you're gay, you're all man, no macho posturing."
"Well, if you like that, too," Jim laughed quietly. "But you're going to have to wait until I recover from the serious fucking you just gave me. Are you sure you didn't hurt yourself? I could have sworn I felt your tonsils with the top of my dick."
"Is that what that was?" Blair asked, beginning to believe finally. Putting his head back down and snuggling in, he said hopefully, "Seattle, then?"
"Mmmm. Oh, and Chief, use our account to shop for that stuff, okay?"
"We can do that."
***
How Blair managed to get any work done over the next few weeks would forever remain a mystery to him. For the life of him, all he would ever remember when he looked back was constantly walking around with half a hard on and endlessly shopping. Women's clothes came in so many styles with so many different looks, that while he effortlessly eliminated some of them, like the "mother earth" look of jumper and Birkenstocks, he was still overwhelmed by the multitude of choices.
All during his bemused distraction, Jim went on as if nothing had changed between them, as if he hadn't offered to fulfill Blair's deepest fantasy. He accepted the sudden increase in love making with smiling willingness, but never mentioned the cause for it. For that fact, he never asked what was being bought or made a suggestion about what he might like. That baffled Blair until one night while guarding a witness he noticed Jim putting his gun under his pillow before going to sleep in their hotel room.
He'd seen his partner do that a thousand times and merely noted it as a survival trait for a solider and cop. It spoke of an innate wariness that Blair had actually come to take for granted. A blaze of insight that made him sit bolt upright in his chair, forcing him to wave off sudden concern from Jim, as he realized that the same wariness was now non-existence between them. It had been gone for some time, almost from the day they became lovers, as if by accepting Blair into his body, Jim had allowed him all the way past the last of his protective barriers.
With that realization everything finally fell into place for Blair, and the next day he began to make his purchases with a surety that irritated the various sales clerks he encountered. After washing the garments to remove any manufacturing chemical or sizing, he packed them into a special suitcase he kept in his office. By the time Jim flew to Seattle, he had everything he needed, including special hypo allergic, unscented make-up for his lover.
They arranged for Blair to fly up after Jim had given his testimony, and the utter calm he felt when he boarded the plane, carrying that one suitcase, was wonderful. It stayed with him all during the flight, the taxi ride to the hotel, and through the preparations for the evening.
It vanished completely the moment he heard the key in the lock of the room, and he had to fight to keep from instantly hyperventilating. Every thought he had, every bit of courage he had, scattered like leaves in a playful wind, leaving him staring wide eyed and panicked as Jim came through the door. But his lover wordlessly closed and locked the door behind him, then crossed the room to take Blair in his arms for a hard, reassuring hug.
"We can leave it strictly a fantasy," Jim murmured.
"Don't tempt me," Blair gulped. "I don't know why I'm so nervous all of a sudden."
"Especially since you're not the one putting on a dress," Jim said dryly. "Just promise me you won't make me look in a mirror."
"You are going to be absolutely gorgeous." There was such conviction in his own voice that Blair nerves settled again with one last stomach-hurting drop. Taking Jim by the hand, he led him to the bathroom and began reverently, lovingly undressing him. "Let me be your ladies maid," he whispered, unfastening the first button. "Let me do everything for you. Please."
For an answer, Jim kissed him gently then let his hands hang loose at his sides, moving only at softly spoken directions and guiding nudges. In very short order Blair had him naked, sitting on the edge of the bathtub, feet inside. Drifting as though in a dream, Blair shaved his lover's chin, armpits, chest, and legs from the ankles all the way up, working body lotion into each area as it was finished. He took his time, savoring the appearance of every bit of skin and the satin glide of it under his hands.
For his part, Jim seemed to float deeper and deeper into utter contentment, every muscle so relaxed that he felt as malleable as wax to Blair. It wasn't until the shaving lather had been spread from the beginning of his cleft up to his navel that any tension showed at all - and that was his manhood rising in definite interest at the proceedings so close to it.
Both of them ignored it, as they had ignored Blair's arousal from the start, but when the last of the body hair had been removed, Jim captured two hands full of curls on either side of his lover's head and pulled it down to his hard on. Blair sucked it in willingly, taking it all the way down his throat in the first thrust. Under his lips he could feel the thrum of Jim's release and pulled away carefully when it became only the rapid pulse of his heartbeat.
He looked up at Jim, expecting the replete expression with eyelids at half-mast. What he didn't expect was for the cock he held to stay hard and for his lover to give him a loving tap on his backside with a bare foot to get him moving him again. Obeying the implied order, he handed Jim out of the tub, all but licking his lips at the expanse of bare, smooth flesh in front of him.
Seating Jim on the small stool in front of the vanity, he opened the suitcase and took out the garment on top: a pair of plain white bikini panties. A partial smile hovering at the edges of Jim's lips told him the choice was a good one. In what felt almost like a graceful dance, Blair drew them up long legs and over trim hips, nodding in satisfaction at the nearly perfect fit. Next was a white merry widow to give a suggestion of waist and to lift muscled pecs up in imitation of breasts. It did its job so well that there was actually a bit of cleavage and handful of tit, the nipples already budded up and peeking over the edge of the fabric as if asking to be caressed.
Despite that temptation, Blair brought out the gray stockings, gathered the first one onto his fingertips, then rolled it up one of Jim's legs, all but coming from the feel of the nylon on already luscious skin. Hooking them into the garters with trembling hands, he made sure the tiny rhinestones in the shape of a heart were directly above the ankle, then repeated their ballet on the other leg.
At some unspoken command that he wasn't aware of giving, Jim stood and Blair wrapped the dark gray skirt around his lover's waist. Tying it in place, he nodded to himself at the impression of curves its a-line silhouette gave. Sitting again, Jim held still as the white angora sweater was pulled over his head, fitting nearly perfectly and clinging to the hard body in a way that nearly did Blair in.
Burying his face in the vee neck of the sweater, nose in the small cleavage he'd created, he grasped after control with trembling will, panting and fighting desperately not to come in his pants. Long fingers combed through his hair and the vibration of spoken reassurances tickled his cheeks, helping to calm him. When he stopped shaking, he drew away, taking a deep breath and shoving his hair away from his face on both sides.
"You're beautiful," Blair said hoarsely.
Very, very softly Jim answered, "You're making me feel that way."
Nerves shimmying, Blair got to his feet and perched on the edge of the vanity. "Don't ever doubt you are, regardless of what clothes you're wearing." He leaned into Jim, forehead-to-forehead, outline his jaw with loving strokes. After a moment, he straightened and said, "I want to do your makeup, too."
Closing his eyes, Jim waited patiently, not needing to say anything.
Sucking in a much needed lungful of air, Blair *willed* his hands to be steady and began. As meticulously as if he were creating a great work of art, he painted with foundation and concealer, blush and shadow, using brushes, sponges and, finally, daringly, bare fingertips coated with lipstick on sweet lips. Stepping back when done, he surveyed his work, nodded in satisfaction, then carefully fit a wig over Jim's short-cropped hair. It was a few shades lighter than his natural color and had some brighter highlights masterfully added amidst the slight waves.
"Just a few more touches," he muttered to himself. With deft hands he opened the jewel case and fastened a gold heart locket around Jim's neck, then took one of the gold hoops out of his own ear to adorn his lover's. "Perfect," he breathed. A last quick check showed that he'd forgotten one last ingredient; shoes.
A fast scramble produced gray pumps with one-inch heels from a side pocket of the suitcase, and, feeling absurdly like Prince Charming wooing Cinderella, he knelt at Jim's feet to slip them on. That done, he slowly, *slowly* looked up from the foot he held, eyes traveling hungrily up the long leg, the concealing drape of skirt and provocatively tight sweater. Finally he reached Jim's painted face and found his features composed in the self-satisfied smirk of a woman who *knows* she's beautiful.
With a harsh moan, he clutched painfully at himself through his pants. It wasn't enough, and his seed poured out of him, wetting his hand through his clothes. Shuddering, he put his head in Jim's lap and panted his way through the pleasure, hardly hearing himself repeat "Jim," over and over.
When he was done, mind and nerves still buzzing from the intensity of his release, he wound his arms around Jim's waist and hugged him. As if that were a cue, Jim crossed then uncrossed his nylon-covered legs at the calf, making the massive bulge of his erection appear, then disappear again at Blair's cheek. "That wasn't very nice of you," he scolded gently, unexpectedly sounding prim and lady-like.
"I'm sorry," Blair answered automatically, knowing this courting ritual very, very well. "You're just too much, you know? I couldn't help myself."
"I'm glad you enjoyed it," Jim said a little tartly. "But you still left me high and dry."
Stroking his knee gently, just under the hem of his skirt, Blair whispered contritely, "I *am* sorry. Can I do something to make up for it?"
"Maybe."
Gingerly skating his touch a little higher onto the thigh, petting very lightly, Blair promised, "I'll do whatever you want. Just tell me what you like. Your wish, Beautiful, is my command."
Though he tried to act as if he were merely considering it, Jim touched the tip of his tongue to the middle of his upper lip, and said, "Well...."
"Please. Let me do something nice for you."
Eyes dark with lust, Jim finally asked softly, "Taste me?"
"Oh, yeah!" Blair's enthusiasm was honest, but before he could reach under the skirt for what he thought was wanted, Jim used a knee to gently push him away. Standing, he walked to the king-sized bed and bent over the end of it, forearms resting on the mattress, rear toward Blair.
"Like this," Jim ordered. "And don't mess up my clothes, please."
"Oh, god!" Blair muttered to himself, skittering over to where Jim waited for him. Reverently putting a palm over each firm buttock, he repeated, "Oh, god!" and then carefully folded up the skirt so that the panty clad bottom was revealed.
Blood left his brain, rushing straight for his dick, which twitched, then re-filled alarmingly fast. Placing a delicate peck on each cheek, he peeled aside the bikini just enough to show the cleft, then kissed the very top of it. "Like this?" he asked playfully.
"An open-mouthed kiss," Jim instructed.
"Oh, like this then." Blair touched his lips to the spot immediately under where he'd been, dabbing the very tip of his tongue onto it.
Surprisingly Jim sighed, "Like that."
A hard jerk of need ripped through Blair's gut; his sentinel lover's sense of touch had to be practically off the scale between the soft fabric clothing him and his freshly shaved skin. Which meant.... He bent down for another darting taste, barely touching, and was rewarded with a long, low sigh of pleasure. "Yes," Jim praised quietly. "*Just* like that."
It took concentration to keep the oral caress fleeting and fragile, but that was a good thing because Blair's cock was suddenly demanding to be put to use. When he reached the hidden center of Jim's body, he sampled the very rim of it with a tiny cat lick, pleased when it immediately flowered for him, inviting a deeper kiss. Pressing in for it, he reached under to find Jim's erection, only to have his hand caught and firmly brought up to the furiously erect nipples pushing at the sweater covering them.
"Pinch them, hurt them, just a little, little bit," Jim begged quietly.
Shuddering with the force of the moan that pulled from him, Blair did his best to do it exactly as asked, loving the hard shudder it created in his lover. Both hands busy with the hot points on Jim's chest, tongue working the tiny aperture, he tried to break the restraint keeping Jim from backing into the loving, knowing it would be well worth the trouble.
"I'm so close," Jim panted. "So close, lover."
Turning his head one side and laying his burning cheek on the white cotton covering his lover's ass, Blair whispered urgently. "I can send you over if you let me in, baby. It will feel so good, I promise. I'll take it easy and careful, make *sure* its good. Let me inside you, Beautiful."
For a moment Jim was very still, then he said breathlessly, "Slow and sweet, playing with my titties?"
"Slow and sweet," Blair swore. With a last thrusting kiss to the loosened pucker, he knelt up and freed his cock from his pants. Hard put not to lose it again from his own touch, he hastily dug in his pocket for the lube stashed there, gritted his teeth and coated himself. Jim quivered at the light touch and Blair wondered madly if he'd be able to keep his promise to do it the way Jim wanted.
He set himself at the ready entrance, then, clutching Jim's hips tightly, gradually eased himself into the welcoming heat. "Damn," he bit out, holding off his climax by sheer will power. Jim was hot and yielding, internal muscles fluttering with their own brand of seduction. Panting harshly, Blair made it all the way in, his balls nestled up against the creamy backside. Lying over his lover's back, hands tunneling under Jim to find the waiting buds and finish keeping his promise.
Cupping his palms over the small bits of needy flesh, he moaned, "I love you," and began to withdraw as slowly as he had entered.
"Blair!" Jim whispered urgently. "Oh! I... I think...oh! I'm... oh! oh!" He began trembling violently and the passage holding Blair in him contracted deliciously as his release took him. "God! Blair!"
It was more than Blair could take, and he slammed back into Jim's body, pounding away at him as he emptied himself heart and soul into his mate. Mind obliterated by the overwhelming pleasure, he was for a wonderful, wonderful moment nothing but the act of lovemaking, cock in ass, come spilling where it belonged. When the rest of him eventually made contact again, he was sprawled on top of Jim, breathing angora in moist inhalations, he was mildly disappointed it was over already.
"Love you," he muttered, just to say it.
"Love you." Jim sounded dreamy and content, and Blair couldn't prevent the ear-to-ear grin that blossomed, even knowing his partner could feel it.
"I'm not squashing you?" Blair asked just to hear that tone again.
"Nope."
They stayed in the same position for a few more minutes, then Blair said reluctantly, "If I don't move right now I'm going to fall asleep, and that's *not* how I want to spend the rest of the evening."
"Got plans, Chief?" Jim sounded more awake than Blair felt.
"Not really. Got anything you'd like to do?"
There was a pause, then Jim answered thoughtfully, "Room service. Order a nice thick steak and salad and rich dessert. Put on some music, maybe slow dance a while." He deliberately tightened around the softened flesh barely inside him and added in the prim voice from earlier, "Who know? You might even get lucky."
Laughing, Blair snuggled between fuzz-covered shoulder blades and crowed, "You're a cock-tease, Jim Ellison. Put a skirt on you and your turn into a god-damned cock tease."
"I am not either," Jim shot back indignantly. "A tease doesn't put out. *I* put out." A couple of seconds later he added truthfully, "I guess I just like to be coaxed first."
"We can do that," Blair chuckled happily, squirming to get in deeper. "We can definitely do that."
finis