Half kissing, half biting the tiny dip just below Blair's left temple, Jim took a second to consider his lover's condition, never once stopping his steady riding up and down on the cock inside of him. Blair's head was thrown back into the pillow, hair tumbled every which way with a few strands clinging to his sweaty forehead, and his mouth was open in a desperate bid for more air for his straining body. His throat was bared by the position, offering up his Adam's apple as a target, and Jim willingly complied, sucking at it until Blair's tiny mewls of pleasure were nearly soundless from the intensity of what he was feeling.
Good, he decided. Nothing existed for his lover now except for his demanding hard-on, the channel surrounding it, and the overwhelming need to come. If a terrorist cadre suddenly broke into their bedroom babbling about a bomb, he wouldn't be able to stop, if he even noticed. Cautiously Jim sat up so that his bottom was hitting his heels on every plunge down, taking his lover more deeply inside, making the most of every inch of the wonderful cock fucking him. He jacked himself in time to his riding, fingers of his other hand alternately twisting and pulling his nipples, adding to the flood of sensation inching up his spine and filling his balls.
The shift made him need to finish that much more, and made it that much harder to actually do so, forcing him to claw after his release, concentrating all of his senses on the fantastic things happening to his body. He loved working toward his climax like this, having to fight for it from his own body, but it made him so inwardly focused, that it was selfish to go for it that way unless Blair were equally self-involved. Unless he was sure that his lover was close himself and totally caught up his own needs, Jim never indulged, which meant that sometimes he would be left behind when Blair finished unexpectedly. Not that it bothered him since it only meant that he'd be watched from under droopy, sated lashes while he took care of matters; a joy in and of itself.
Unbidden, old memories rose in his mind as he worked to come; filthy images and need-filled sounds from other times and places all hitting him in no particular order, not remaining in his consciousness very long. Each left behind its accumulated weight of erotic associations, dropping him deeper and deeper into a maelstrom of lust, aided and abetted by the marvelous hammering his beloved was giving him until, with a shout of triumph, he dove into the center to shatter into pleasure. For an eternal moment he was only ecstasy, then he reformed into himself, boneless, sweaty and content, pressing clumsy kisses onto whatever part of Blair was closest.
Finally he mustered enough strength to rise up on one elbow, just to make sure he wasn't squashing his lover, and smiled down into eyes he expected to be sleepy and satisfied as he knew his was. What he found instead was the earnest, patient look Blair gave him when he was about to start talking about something Jim didn't want to even think about. Startled, he started to move away, but a hand on his backside warned him to stay.
"I hate it when you do that," Blair said conversationally.
Giving him his best 'do what' grimace, Jim waited for the rest of it, a painfully solid lump taking up residence under his navel.
"One of the reasons it took us so long to get together was because I've never liked it when you close me out, doing the stoic, silent, everything's one hundred percent with me, what's your beef routine," Blair went on relentlessly. "But eventually I saw that was how you were made and for some very good reasons, and I decided I could live with it, because as long as I didn't push it and gave you half a chance, you always came clean with me sooner or later."
"I don't want to shut you out." Having had this conversation too many times with too many lovers to be able to stomach having it with Blair, Jim's voice was toneless, and he waited expressionlessly for the rest of the litany. Mercifully, it didn't come.
"I *know,*" Blair said patiently. "And I just told you it was okay. Except for here, in bed. I'm finding I can't handle that."
"What do you mean?" Jim asked defensively, trying to buy time and wondering how he'd slipped when he'd been so careful not to let go until his lover had.
With a genuine sigh of aggravation, Blair said, "Don't give me the dumb routine; I'm the one of the few people who have an idea of exactly how much is going on behind those shuttered eyes of yours." At Jim's semi-apologetic shrug, he said, "Usually when we make love, we're so connected that if one of us gets bumped, both bruise."
"Yes," Jim said simply, because that's how it was.
"But sometimes you just... go away. You screw your eyes shut and throw your head back, and whatever is going on in there, I don't have any part in it."
There was nothing Jim could say to that since it was blatantly the truth. He had never dared include any thought of Blair in those moments when he struggled to come. The violent lust the very idea stirred through him was terrifying. He had no idea what would happen if he actually did and was absolutely not willing to chance it.
"I don't like the idea of being a substitute for somebody else, or worse yet, just being a sex toy cause all you're interested in is getting your rocks off," Blair went on doggedly.
"It's not like that." Mentally he looked for some way to explain that wouldn't make matters worse, but that was all he could come up with. "It's just... the senses... they kind of..." he tried anyway. He couldn't find the right words, and finally went for what had worked in the past. For a while, at least. "Look, if it bothers you, it won't happen again."
"Right," Blair said skeptically.
Tenderly sweeping away the loose curls matted to his lover's damp skin, Jim answered, "Right. Look, no matter how much of an asshole I've been in the past, have you ever known me to break a promise?"
"Noooo."
"Well then, why would I start now, and with something this important?" He nailed the perfectly reasonable tone of voice smack on the head, and waited, outwardly calm, to see if it would be debated.
Blair studied him seriously for a minute, then obviously decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. "I don't like the idea of holding you back if it's something you need," he muttered, but underneath his relief was clear.
"Not need, just, you know, something that happens sometimes." Jim shrugged again, hoping he could leave it at that.
Thankfully, Blair seemed as inclined to let it go, and Jim began nuzzling and cuddling with deliberate intent, wanting to make up for his carelessness. It didn't take long for them both to be ready for round two, and he very carefully made sure that this time he was underneath where he wouldn't be inclined to give into temptation.
Between making sure he took the passive role when bottoming and keeping his attention solely on Blair when he did, Jim didn't slip again, and since he didn't see any harm in it, he saved deliberately delaying his climax for those rare times he masturbated. Gradually they stopped being so rare, but even then he made a concerted effort to make sure that his lover wouldn't be cheated by it in anyway. Either he took advantage of evenings alone or indulged when he was sure Blair would be too occupied to be interested in sex, so he wouldn't risk not being able to get it up if his lover wanted it. On some level he knew sooner or later he'd be caught at that, too, but wouldn't allow the thought to surface, preferring to let it lie below the needs of the moment.
Less than three months after his promise, Naomi blew into town, grabbed Blair and dragged him off to some spiritual event that she was sure would improve his harmonic resonance with the universe. Half-laughing, delighted to see his mother in full bloom after the awkwardness that had been between them, Blair let himself be dragged, throwing apologetic glances over his shoulder.
Jim laughed, too, and waved him on; he was the last person to stand in the way of parent and child mending fences. It also gave him the evening to himself, since he doubted Blair would be able to squirm free until the small hours of the morning. After a forbidden Wonderburger meal and one beer over his usual limit, he went into the shower and took his time jerking himself off, reluctantly giving into his climax only when the water was cold and his knees were weak and wobbly. Almost too tired to dry off, he stumbled his way to bed, nearly asleep before the covers up over him.
Some indeterminate time later a hot mouth coaxed him awake, exploring him in a way that would have had him instantly hard if he hadn't been so wasted. He did his best, but wasn't even partly erect when Blair finally gave up and climbed up to lie beside him. "Tired," he mumbled, pretending to be mostly out of it.
"I'll say," Blair said cheerfully, bumping a hard-on into Jim's hip. "Which leaves me with a little problem here."
"Not toooo little," Jim joked weakly, and rolled, capturing the cock between his thighs. "Not tooooo big. I'd say, umph!"
With a snort of laughter, Blair covered his lips in a deep, hungry kiss that should have awakened the dead, but didn't rouse so much as a tingle from Jim. Not really caring, he concentrated on making it good for his lover, milking him for the small cries and shouts that he liked hearing no matter what the circumstances.
When he was all sticky with an armful of utterly relaxed Blair, he turned off the lights, more than ready to go back to sleep, but was stopped by a small voice under his chin. "Must have been some jerk off session."
"Missed you," Jim said honestly, if misleadingly. "And didn't expect to see you again until tomorrow."
"Naomi met someone that she really hit it off big with," Blair said with an air of, 'you know her.' "And I snuck off because I missed you, too."
"Mmmmm. I could tell; nice being able to just soak you in like that."
"Really? Didn't leave you horny at all?"
He only sounded curious, and Jim answered without thinking, "Perfect nightcap to guarantee sweet dreams." The sturdy body plastered over his stiffened fractionally, but he hid his awareness of that, willfully holding onto the guise of relaxation. While the hard rock in his gut that had never completely gone away grew to aching proportions, he made himself inhale and exhale regularly, when what he really wanted to do was hold his breath until Blair decided what to do next. But bit-by-bit he melted again, and a soft snore against his throat told Jim that his lover had succumbed to sleep.
That didn't necessarily mean that the discussion was over, merely postponed, and he unhappily swore off self-relief in some vague hope of appeasing Blair when it was taken up again. Surprisingly, his partner let it go, and while Jim thought maybe it had simply forgotten in the afterglow, he didn't take any chances. He confined his pleasure to what he shared with Blair, and shoved any longings that didn't fit into that as deep into the recesses of his mind as he could manage.
It took less than a month for them to fester to the point that he was hardly enjoying sex at all. At first he blamed his lack of interest or failed erection on the caseload, on the bullshit going on in the department, on being tired, on whatever excuse was handiest. Blair seemed to accept it as one of those things that happened to men sometimes, and was, on the surface at least, happy with the eagerness Jim used in making sure Blair was satisfied.
The rock grew heavier and heavier with each failed session, though, and he told himself over and over that Blair was different from the other lovers in his life. Between the both of them, they'd find a way to work things out. He knew that it was inevitable it would all come to a head, but he would have been less than human if he hadn't hoped that it would take as long as possible. But when things did blow up, it still caught him off-guard. Like the first time, Blair waited until they were cuddled together in the aftermath, as if he expected it to be easier for them if they had just been physically close.
"I wish," he said simply, "You'd tell me what it is you need that I'm not giving you. You have to know I'm pretty damned uninhibited. Whatever it is, I can cope, I promise."
Not sure if he was relieved or panicked to have it out in the open, Jim still said quietly, "I have all I need, right here." He squeezed the shoulder under his arm, other hand toying lightly with a curl.
"All the evidence is to the contrary," Blair said patiently, cupping limp genitals carefully.
"That has nothing to do with you," Jim insisted, knowing it for a lost cause, but fighting anyway.
"From where I sit, or maybe I should say from where I haven't been able to sit, it seems to me we're pretty connected. Or maybe that's the problem." Blair sat up slowly, shoving hair out of his eyes. "Maybe you shouldn't have promised me to give up the head space you took sometimes."
Not able to meet his eyes, un-surprised Blair had made seen the link between the two, Jim concentrated on the lock still twined around his finger. "You didn't like it; it went. If I have to choose between you and anything, you're going to win, hands down, no matter what the choice is, Chief."
It was a good thing to say; the love in his partner's eyes doubled in brightness. "Sweet talk is not going to get you out of this James Joseph Ellison," he said mock-sternly, anyway.
With a snort, Jim ran a light finger along a finely defined collarbone. "How 'bout another blow job, then?" he offered facetiously.
A jab into his shoulder told him to stop joking around. "Seriously, can we talk compromise here? Is it a sense thing?"
"Look," Jim began more harshly than he meant. "I'm either there or I'm not; it's not a do-halfway situation."
Ignoring his tone with practice, Blair asked, "Well, where do you go, then? What do you see or feel or whatever when you're riding me like you have to come or die? Maybe I can give you that."
"I..." Air caught halfway down his throat; he swallowed painfully on it, then started again. "It's not a... Damn!" Jim sat up himself, swinging his feet to the floor and turning his back to his lover. "Do we have to drag this all out? You're getting your jollies; can't we leave it at that?"
"I miss having you in me," Blair said simply. "Miss having you come at me with that feral need in your eye, miss how gentle your hands are when you're so hungry for me you're shaking."
"God." The smoky words sent a shiver through him, weakening the walls that held in his need, but making the weight in his gut agonizing. In pure self-defense, he asked sharply, "And if I were impotent because I was injured or ill, what then?"
"Then I would do my damndest to make sure you got as much as you could out of our love-making," Blair shot back, leaving the bed to stand in front of him. "But in that case, we don't have a choice. We have one here."
"Yes, and you already made it!"
"No, *you* did and without giving me specifics, I don't know if it's the one I would have made. Or do you really think I would ask you to lose your sex drive?" Blair asked hotly, temper obviously rising.
Anger, at least, was something Jim had a plan for; anger of his own, and he stood, deliberately looming over his smaller partner. "Didn't you? It may have escaped your notice, Sandburg, but *I* was doing fine. You're the one who created an issue. I gave you what you wanted anyway, and damnit, now that's not good enough? What the fuck do you want from me, any how?"
Plainly furious, plainly losing control, Blair yelled, "Oh, I don't know, a little communication maybe? A little information to work with? The usual fucking thing I want from you and the last fucking thing you're ever willing to give?"
"Then why do you keep pushing at me!" Jim roared. "Isn't it enough that I've given you my god-damn balls?!"
For a minute Blair stood there, white-faced and mouth pinched shut, then he started scrambling through the clothes scattered around the bedroom, throwing them on haphazardly. Jim didn't say anything or try to stop him. He'd gone too far and he knew it, not even able to apologize for his words because they were the truth, however badly stated. Within minutes he was by himself, the echo of the slam from the downstairs door chilling his ears.
The boulder in his middle pulled him down to the mattress, and he sat heavily, staring at nothing. Blair would be back, he knew. As much as the fight hurt, they loved each other and his partner would not back down because of a single battle. They would awkwardly apologize to each other, and once he'd convinced Blair they could fix things, there would be wild make-up sex, and things between them would be okay for a while. But the need would build, and he'd still not be able to explain it or talk about it, and there would be another fight about the same damn thing, and another make-up, and another fight, and another, until the fights simply didn't stop.
This was a path he'd traveled too damn many times in his life not to know every fucking pebble of it. It had stopped Jim from making that first pass, sensing that Blair was his last chance to have a lifetime love, though he hadn't admitted it to himself at first. His lover was so different, though, what they had even without the sex so special, that he'd caved, praying this time the path would lead some place else beside heartbreak.
Blair *was* different. He was the one who was just the same old-fucked up Jim Ellison he'd always been. His should have known better to risk it, but he did, and now he sat looking at nothing but seeing an empty future. Losing Blair was going to destroy something essential inside him, and, even worse, destroy something in his lover, as well.
That sent a huge ripple of pain over him, and Jim clenched his fists. No, he couldn't hurt Blair like that, wouldn't hurt Blair like that. He had to step off the path, somehow, do something, anything different that could divert him from repeating the same stupid mistakes.
On impulse he stood and hastily dressed, then threw clothes into a duffle bag. For once not bothering to tidy up, he left the bedroom as it was, filled with the scents of love and pleasure, just so he could remember it that way. Once downstairs he wrote a note in Blair's office, hesitating over the wording, but finally settling for "If you want me to come home, call. Please." For a minute he debated adding, "I love you" and his name, but both were obvious and his partner might not care about the first right away.
Leaving it on the counter where they always put notes for each other, he checked to make sure his cell was on and charged, then left, again deliberately leaving the traces of himself behind so the loft would feel like home to Blair. He drove until he saw a hotel, then pulled over, automatically going through the process of checking in and unpacking. Once done, too tired to stand and the pain in his middle growing moment by moment, he sat on the end of the bed, cell phone in hand, and waited.
As he did, he didn't try to control his senses for once, but welcomed the periods of mindlessness the zones brought him. He drifted from one sense to another, hardly noting when he went from listening to the cockroaches in the walls to counting the different scents in the room to watching dust mites find homes on the dresser top. Periodically he would stiffly attend to his body's functions, staying clean and shaved out of habit, but each task took much longer than usual because he would fade out in the middle.
Time became just a word, and though the room darkened and brightened, he didn't keep track of how often or why. Once it vaguely occurred to him that sooner or later he would have to eat or drink more than a few mouthfuls from the tap when thirst pricked through the zones, but he didn't act on it. More than once he wondered what he would do if Blair never called, but he shied away from looking too hard at that thought, and eventually decided that he'd just keep waiting. It was, well, peaceful in its own way.
An eternity later fingers tugged insistently at his where they were locked around his cell phone, jolting him to awareness, and he looked down at the top of Blair's head where he was kneeling in front of him. "You didn't call," he said hoarsely, voice barely understandable.
Startled, Blair jumped and fell on his backside, phone in hand. Holding it up, he said, "Batteries are dead. I've been trying for two days."
"Oh." Sluggishly, he thought he remembered hearing the low-battery beep, but it hadn't make sense at the time. "It was charged when I got here," he said, half questioning.
"Only good for forty-eight hours or so, man." Blair took a deep breath, then said carefully, "When I got back, I realized I'd forgotten my keys, and was still mad enough I didn't noticed your truck was gone. When you didn't let me in, I thought you'd gotten territorial and snotty, and stomped down to Mrs. Everly in 203 to beg a bed for the night, totally pissed all over again. When I woke up Sunday, I decided two could play head games, and took off without trying to get back in the loft, mostly just wandering around Cascade and feeling sorry for myself. Spent that night at Simon's, and I owe him because he didn't ask any questions, just made up a bed for me. When you didn't show up or call in Monday, we got worried, and he used his key. Found the note right away, but, uh, the battery was probably dead by then 'cause the service couldn't connect. We've been looking for you since."
Trying to connect all the words to the phone not ringing and Blair being here, Jim was too muddled to do more than associate it with his zones. "Guess I lost track of time."
"Yeah," Blair said shakily. "Guess you did. Is it okay to tell you in person that I'm ready for you to come home?"
"Yeah, that works for me." But he didn't move, not sure he had the strength to budge the thing holding him down.
"Uh, Jim. Now, please?" Kneeling in front of him again, Blair took his icy hands in his and held them to his chest, giving a gentle pull in suggestion.
"No, first, I..." Jim looked at where they were linked, feeling the his lover's heat soak layer by layer into him, and suddenly knew what he had to do to break up the mass inside him so that he could leave with Blair. Working one hand free so he could pet a bristled cheek with his fingers, he tried again, "First I need..." His voice trailed off uncertainly as he tried to frame his anxious appetite in words.
Leaning in closer, Blair whispered, "Just tell me what to do."
Relieved, grateful, Jim kissed him lightly on the lips, not in passion but to thank him for understanding, then did it again, this time tasting lightly. He touched his forehead to his lover's, drinking in scent and warm breath, letting it swirl through him, giving him courage. "Can you get hard for me - without me touching you?"
"I... I can try," Blair said, sounding puzzled.
"Don't talk, don't undress, just come up on the bed and put your cock in me," he instructed quietly, a dizzy mix of lust and fear making his heart race and senses sharpen, giving him strength for what had to be done.
"Now?"
"Yes! Please?" Moving cautiously so he wouldn't knock Blair over, Jim undressed, then turned out the light his lover must have turned on when he came in. The darkness jacked up his excitement another notch, and he was already half hard himself when he crawled into the middle of the bed, face down and legs open. He could hear Blair's rapid heartbeat and fast breathing, hear the subtle rustle of cloth over cloth and zing of the zipper, then the even more subtle sound of flesh over flesh as his lover readied himself.
It took a few minutes, which only added to his insane anticipation and hunger, then the mattress dipped with Blair's weight, jostling him in the old, familiar way that made his cock thrum eagerly. "Now hold still," he said harshly, not recognizing his own voice. "Let me do it all. Hands on my hips if you need to steady yourself."
No answer, but tentative fingers closed over his hipbones as he lifted his ass high in search of the hard-on he could smell and feel the heat of near him. The satiny head of it brushed over his cleft, letting him know he was on target, then he eased backward slowly, directing it toward his center. He wasn't stretched or lubed, but that was good, that was very good. The burn was part of it, as was the reluctant giving way of the ring of muscle.
Preternaturally aware of his partner, he sensed the objection before it could be voiced and spoil the scene he had created. Reaching behind himself, he latched onto one sturdy thigh, pulling it toward him in silent refusal of the retreat Blair wanted rather than risk hurting him. There was a moment's hesitation, then the tension flowed out of the muscle under his fingertips, signaling compliance.
A tremor of relief shook Jim, but he immediately began rearing back, forcing the blunt tip into himself, the rough entry tearing a cry of pleasure from him. It was the only noise he made, all he could spare air for as he inched back onto the long shaft, savoring every bit of progress. By the time the soft fur of Blair's balls was snug against him, they were both shaking, and he was so hard he hurt.
He held their position for a few heartbeats, then began pulling off as slowly as he'd taken the steely cock. Through the delicate tissues of his channel, Jim could feel the hum of his lover's blood and could tell that climax was close but Blair was deliberately holding back until he was satisfied.
"Blair!" he sobbed, aroused almost beyond bearing by the gift. Easing back again, just as slowly, he started touching himself with sentinel-light sweeps over his chest and belly. When Blair was all the way in, he explored where they were connected, his palm pleasurably compressing his own balls as he gently stirred his lover's and pressed into the base of the shaft inside him.
"So big," he murmured, tightening around it. "Hard and good and, and, God!" Without really wanting to, he began the gradual retreat, soft praise for his lover spilling from his lips.
This time he let the cock slip out of his body entirely, crying out at the loss and thrilling to the nearly inaudible, nearly identical one from Blair. The hands holding his hips tightened painfully, but there was no other movement from his lover, undoing the last of the internal restraints holding Jim. Emboldened, panting harshly, he went to all fours and rocked back, taking Blair no faster than before. "It's so hard for me to come. Love having my ass full, love being stretched and opened and used. Love it so much, can't come 'cause then it's over. Don't want it to be over, not ever. Oh, oh, want... you... in me... deep and hard... always, uh! Blair, God! Blair!"
Against his will his body picked up speed, though still moving in slow motion. Head hanging down, mind focused entirely on the man behind him and the rod filling his hole, he shamelessly took what he needed, trying to hold off coming by digging his hands into the mattress. Miraculously Blair held off, too, though Jim knew he'd be wearing the bruises for days from his lover's grip, and that tiny image triggered the ones he could never deny. Frantically he slammed back harder and faster, milking every iota of length and size from the strokes, still trying to fight off the inevitable, but finally lost it, whimpering, "Oh, no, oh, no, oh, oh, oh, OH! Blair!"
The release of his seed raked through him, sending hard jolts into bone and nerve until he was quaking with each spurt, barely able to stay upright to ride as long as he could. When they faded, he was too spent to stay up any longer, and sagged to his stomach as slowly as he could, enticing his lover down with him.
Blair was harder than he'd ever felt him before, and finally freed by Jim's climax, was slamming away at his ass as if he had to find un-touched depths before he could shoot himself. It was great, the best part of being well-fucked, and Jim soaked up the thrusts easily, moaning deliriously at each one. That seemed to spur his lover on and before long the entire bed was bouncing and squeaking with the power of his strokes.
"Bitch," Blair spat. "You... Damn! Going to show you... fuck... yeah, my fuck, my hole, my... Jim!!!!"
A millimeter or two more of cock, a fraction or more of hardness, then he was filled with liquid heat that soothed his raw ass and dissolved what was left of the burden he'd carried. A different one draped over him, a heavy, sweaty one that he cherished, and he captured a hand to hold, fearful Blair would roll off him if he didn't link them by more than the softening flesh inside him.
They lay quietly in the darkness long enough for them both to cool, then Jim whispered, "Sometimes I don't think I'm ever going to be satisfied - and some of the things I've done in the past to try...." Strong fingers squeezed his, forgiveness and understanding in the gesture. "It's not you, Blair, I swear, but me. I've... I've always been a fuck slut, from the very first, even then, when I should have hated it, when I should have fought it off, I longed for it when..." He cut himself off, the old walls of shame and silence and secrecy struggling to shut out the trust and love.
Everything about Blair said, "I'm listening," but he didn't speak, and oddly, it was his silence that allowed Jim to go on. "When I was about eleven or so, old enough to begin to have some understanding about what sex was all about, my old man must have gone through a hard time at the job or something. What, I don't know; he didn't talk about work to us except for the drill that he was doing it for us, trying to give us everything we needed."
The weight on him suddenly doubled, becoming all bunched, unyielding muscle, and he tried to soothe with tiny petting strokes to the fingers twined in his. "He started drinking heavily, coming home very late and pretty drunk. Sally even yelled at him for it, and all that accomplished was her refusing to stay in the evenings if he wasn't home when he said he would be. It really hurt her, I could tell, to leave me and Stevie on our own, but she had to make a point and I was old enough to take care of us."
"Already so protective," Blair murmured.
Truthfully, he couldn't remember when he hadn't been, so Jim ignored the comment and went on with the story. "All my life, he'd come in and check on me before he went to bed himself. If I happened to be awake, he'd stop and talk a while, maybe read a story when I was real little. Both Steve and I looked forward to it. It was the best time, a little private time for us, and he tried to make sure we both got a fair share of having him alone in our room.
"But when he was drinking... Well, it was better to pretend to be asleep. If I was awake, I'd get bitched out for something. Homework not up to grade, room messy, some minor infraction made into a big deal, whatever. If I was sleep, he sit on the edge of the bed for a few minutes, maybe smooth my hair, or tuck the blankets around me.
"One night..." Despite it all, he couldn't talk for a moment, and probably would have stopped there if Blair hadn't kissed his shoulder blade gently, tears leaving damp traces. "I don't have to finish, do I?"
"No," his lover barely whispered. "But maybe you should, if only this once."
With a sigh, Jim agreed. "This once." A minute later he added, "The sick thing is, I think he was trying to show me he loved me. It was always very gentle and caring, but only as long as I pretended I was asleep, that I didn't know. If I moved or reacted...." He shuddered, the memory of the pain still fresh.
"How long?" Blair asked tightly.
"I don't know; not quite a year, I guess. Something drastic must have happened – I'm, I'm not sure what. All I do know is that he stopped drinking almost completely, except for wine with dinner on occasion, and he never came into my bedroom again. Suddenly nothing I did was good enough, and the slightest hint that I was anything but a perfectly normal, perfectly straight young man brought hell down on my head. That's about the same time he set up the rivalry between me and Steve, almost as if he were afraid I'd contaminate my brother if we got too close."
"Fuck," Blair swore softly. "Treating you like it was *your* fault, like you were the one who did something wrong. I am..." Abruptly he cut off his words, and Jim could almost feel his mind whirling. "Stevie.... Jim, he didn't just abuse you, did he?"
"The only secrets I can tell are mine, Chief," he answered softly.
"Double fuck. I am going to kill that son of a bitch," he swore furiously, every line of his body telling Jim that he meant it. "And I'm the one who's been after you to reconcile with him. How can you stand being in the same room with that slime?"
With a shrug both mental and physical, Jim answered, "It was a long time ago, and after some of the things I've seen, that I've done, I don't feel qualified to judge."
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Blair chanted under his breath.
Jim didn't say anything and let his lover work it out for himself, find a way to file and cope and process. On his own part, all he felt was light and drifty, as if the only thing anchoring him to reality was Blair's weight warm and solid over his back. Sleepily, he burrowed into the bedding a little, making a hollow in it for his head. "Besides," he muttered. "None of it matters now. We're together and I'm not going to fuck around on you, even in my head since that bothers you. I don't care how much of an ass-whore the old man showed me I was."
"Don't talk about yourself like that," Blair said sharply.
"Why not? 'S'truth."
"Jim, what we just did wasn't about you being insatiable; it was about reclaiming your sexuality. It was always dark when he came in, right? And he didn't talk to you? Just took what he wanted and left you hurting and needy because, unwanted or not, it was sex and you were an adolescent, all hormones and hard-on. Well, you just took what you wanted, the way you wanted it, went after the release he always refused to acknowledge you needed."
Sadly, Jim kissed one of Blair's fingertips. "There's more, babe. Lot's more." He closed his eyes to the night and rested his cheek on the hand he held. "Notn now, though, all right? I can't do any more tonight."
"Whenever you're ready. I won't push, I swear." Blair kissed his cheek, his forehead, then snagged a handful of bedding and pulled it over them.
It felt snug and warm to be bundled with him like that, and he tried to say goodnight, but fell asleep before he got the words out.
The odd thing was that if Blair had pushed or nagged or treated him the slightest bit differently, Jim would have felt justified in clamming up again. But his partner kept his word, explaining their absence to Simon by calling it a sentinel thing, and going on as if nothing had changed. The only difference, and it was one Jim would have never dreamed of complaining about, was that their love-life took off like a rocket.
Blair, apparently, loved having an insatiable whore in their bed.
He was perfectly capable of spending hours fucking and sucking, using toys and cock rings and whatever else struck his fancy to prolong their pleasure, obviously enjoying it all fantastically. Even when the job and real life kept their love-making to a minimum, it was better than ever because Jim didn't have to hide behind the pretense that normal sex was all he wanted. He let Blair see the mad yearning in his eyes, and his lover always answered it by whispering about the things he would do to him later, when they had time or when they weren't so tired.
It made Jim dare to hope that Blair's reaction to the rest would be as positive: or, failing that, at least as understanding. With that in mind, he tried to formulate a way to tell him, going so far as to try to write a short speech. It got no further than three paragraphs before he crumpled the paper, torn between being dizzy with lust and sick with dread from seeing the words printed out. In the end, he admitted it would be easier to show at least part of it.
A month or so after that decision, the perfect opportunity presented itself when an old friend asked for a favor that Jim had done often and looked forward to immensely. Nickie owned a beach house with its own estate on an isolated stretch of the coast, several miles from the main highway and many more from the nearest other human habitat. It was quiet except for the natural white noise of surf and sand, and had a 'safe room' that had no windows, but two exits located in the heart of the old-fashioned two-story cape.
His friend had no problem with Jim bringing Blair with him to open the house for the season, looking it over for damage and doing minor repairs that might be needed, though there was a certain amount of wistful envy in Nick's voice that told Jim that the man was still fighting his own ghosts alone. Thankfully Jim had been freed of that. Still, actually asking his lover to accompany him, even though on the surface it was a perfectly reasonable request, took more guts on his part than the first time he jumped out of an airplane into combat.
Blair thought a weekend trip to the beach was a great idea, and enthused about it for the remainder of the week. If he picked up on Jim's camouflaged nervousness, he probably chalked it up to the anticipation of the solitude and privacy to get as loud and raunchy as they wanted. Their conversation on the way there Friday afternoon, peppered with innuendos and blatant suggestions for how the two of them could spend their time screwing each other senseless, seemed to confirm his hunch.
His lover had, Jim mused to himself as they entered the foyer of the house, no idea yet just how raunchy he was capable of getting.
Not long now, though.
Putting their bags down near the doorway, he looked into Nick's house and said, "Not much different from the last time I was here."
"You go back a ways with him?" Blair asked curiously, poking his nose into the den just off the stairs. All the furniture was plump leather, well worn and clearly well-loved, and the rest of the furnishings were brass and wood in a fisherman's motif, marking the place as a single man's vacation home.
"Since I was a kid; our dads worked together. For a while I saw him fairly often, then we drifted apart, the way friends will when something unspoken but important lies between them. I don't know which did more harm; my secrets or his."
That got Blair's attention, and, if the rapid acceleration of his heart rate was any indication, he'd taken it as a clue that more was up this weekend than getting out of the city. But all he did was look through the rest of the house, which didn't take long. Nick lived simply, despite his wealth, and his place was barely furnished, except for the kitchen, which would have done a first class restaurant justice. His two indulgences, aside from that, were an upstairs office crammed with every conceivable electronic gadget available to the general pubic, and a huge, luxurious bathroom downstairs, complete with Jacuzzi and heating racks for the towels.
Blair chuckled and checked out the picture window in the bath that overlooked the forest that filled the back part of the property. "Man likes his sensual comforts."
"One of the things we have in common," Jim said, grinning.
"Oh," Blair answered in a suddenly small voice. "You and he?"
Mentally taking a deep breath, Jim said, "No, not once. I couldn't give him what he, uh, needs." Unintentionally, he grimaced. "I don't do serious, damaging stuff; I *can't.* Not to someone I care about. We weren't in love, but we were close enough, thanks to...." The words were choked off, his throat closing of its own accord against voicing what he had literally trained it never to speak about.
Blair traced a single finger over Jim's lips, silently encouraging him, not that it did any good. Abruptly deciding that it was better to show than try to tell, Jim caught the finger, kissed the palm beneath it, then led his lover to the door underneath the stairs. On the surface it only opened onto a coat closet, but he knew the secret that was on the other side of the coats hung against the right wall. The latch gave way with a rusty groan, and the disguised door swung inwards to complete darkness.
He tugged his lover in after him, then pushed him with his full body up against the door both to shut it and to reassure Blair when the silent darkness closed around them. "Shhhhh," he whispered directly into Blair's ear. "Stay quiet and let me show you how good it can be."
Heartbeat and breathing sped up again in what Jim was sure was a mix of surprise, excitement and fear, but Blair only nodded against Jim's chest, then brushed a kiss over his throat. With a nearly inaudible murmur of approval, Jim sank to his knees, breaking all contact between them except for his hands on Blair's belt. Usually he lingered at arousing and satisfying his lover, enjoying the process as much, if not more, than the results. This time he wanted that first climax to be fast and hard, so that the next erection Blair got would last a wonderfully long time.
With that in mind he wasted no time undoing the zipper and taking out the rapidly hardening column of flesh, closing his lips over it almost before it was free of the pants. Sighing his pleasure at the sweet feel of it growing as he sucked, expanding as it arrogantly claimed the space in his mouth, Jim used every trick he knew to make it good for Blair. He teased the sensitive tissue just under the crown, probed at the tiny slit in the top, and gradually let the long shaft slide all the way down his throat, then back out again so that only the tip of his tongue touched Blair's cock.
As he'd hoped, needed, that enticed his lover into pumping, and Jim backed off a fraction more, all but forcing Blair to grab his head and forcibly hold it in place. He went still and let his lover fuck his face, holding in his groans of pleasure as Blair picked up the pace until the thrusts were almost painfully fast and hard. Jim put his hands behind him, holding onto his own wrists as if they were bound, and gave himself up to the moment, reveling in the filthy noises of wet suction, raspy breathing and flesh slapping into flesh. Blair's musk filled his head, allowing no other scents, and the taste of him – the taste! – rolled over his taste buds, somehow changing with every stroke in or out.
Best of all was touch. All the world was his lover's magnificent cock, filling his mouth and throat, all but branding those delicate surfaces with its presence. He felt like he could count every cell, measure every millimeter, with his lips alone, and that was only the smallest portion of how completely he was possessed by Blair's cock. His only complaint was that it couldn't possibly last as long as he wanted it to, so he did his best to make every second count.
Soon, too soon, Jim felt the tiny change in hardness and size that warned climax was imminent. He lunged forward, moving for the first time since Blair had taken control, pinning his lover's hips to the door and swallowing his cock as far down as he could take it, flexing his throat around it. With a soft wail, Blair came, spilling so much seed that Jim almost choked on it before he managed to drink it all down.
Once it was gone, he drew back lingeringly, gingerly tongue washing away every drop before letting the softened shaft slip completely away. Blair sank down weakly, and Jim caught him by the waist so he could guide him until he was kneeling astride his lap. His own cock, still trapped behind its prison of denim and zipper, leaped painfully, trying to find its way to the promise of the firm bottom that settled over it. Jim easily ignored it, no where near willing just yet to give in to its demands.
Wrapping both arms around Blair tightly, he hid his face in the curve of his lover's shoulder, not really needing the darkness there, but feeling sheltered by it all the same. He waited patiently for Blair to recover, soaking in the hush surrounding them, old memories rising to tease and tantalize his arousal. The years and Blair's soul-filling love had erased all the shame and fear that had once accompanied them, leaving behind only a need that seemed to grow more powerful each time they touched his mind.
"There was more behind that than our usual love-making," Blair whispered breathlessly a few moments later, barely disturbing the stillness of the sound-proofed room. "A lot more." His tone asked for confidences even as his body flowed over Jim's, vulnerable and open.
"Yeah," Jim admitted, voice thick.
"Tell me."
"I want to, that's why we're here," Jim murmured. "But I don't know what to say, how to say it."
"You don't want me to, uh, hurt you?" Blair asked, a tiny hitch in his breathing giving away how much he wanted the answer to be 'no.' "Cause I don't think I can."
"No, not exactly, but sort of," Jim said, lips twisted wryly. When Blair didn't say anything, but sighed in exasperation, he added, "No whips or paddles or anything like that. Pain isn't what I need, but can happen because of it. And it's not a master/slave kind of thing, either. I don't want to have to have permission to touch you or look at you. I want, I want.... Oh, fuck it."
He started to pull away, but Blair held on tight. "Hey, don't give up. You're a detective; you know as well as I do that sometimes eliminating the possibilities can pinpoint the probabilities. Let's assume I've already agreed to do anything you want me to do; what's the very first thing I do?"
"Don't let me come," Jim said easily, because Blair already had a good idea how much he liked to fight for his finish. "All weekend, until we're nearly ready to leave Sunday afternoon."
"Ouch," Blair said, giving a huge wince. "Yeah, that'll start to hurt after a while, big time."
"I *like* the ache," Jim said coaxingly. "I like it in my ass, too. It's not pain, it's, it's *awareness* of those parts of me, a sexy awareness."
With what felt like a lecherous grin against Jim's cheek, Blair said, "And I like the look of you in a cock ring; brought a new one I've been wanting to try, as a matter of fact. I take it you want a plug, too?"
His hard-on throbbed hungrily, and Jim couldn't help a little push up against his lover's backside. "Only when you're not using your fingers or cock on me; those are best. I never get enough." Groaning, he nipped at Blair's shoulder, then licked it lovingly. "I wish you could fuck me for two days straight, never taking your cock out of me."
"Double ouch," Blair laughed. "We'd both be in bad shape by Sunday, but I'll do my best to keep that hungry little hole of yours well-filled. Anything else, lover?" He ran both hands up and down Jim's back reassuringly, pausing to give both ass cheeks a good squeeze. "Leather, rubber, women's underwear?"
Shaking his head, Jim chuckled, "No, nothing like that."
"Mind if I keep you mostly dressed then?" Blair said, his cock beginning to firm against Jim's stomach. "It's all but obscene to see that hard-on of yours peeking out over your waistband, or your jeans rucked down around your knees while I fuck you."
"God," Jim muttered, grinding up harder against his lover. "You can do anything you want to me," he blurted, much to his relief, finally getting to the core of what he had to have. "Just do it a lot. Bit me, lick me, ride me, hit me, use me, whatever. Bend me over the table and leave me ass up to tease and torture whenever the urge hits you, tie me to the bed and fuck my mouth until I pass out. You don't have to be gentle or worry about satisfying me or asking me if I want it. *Don't* ask me, just do it, hard and dirty."
Blair moaned, fitting the length of Jim's cock along his cleft and pressing down. "You want me to make you my personal, living sex toy. To treat you like the only thing you're good for is sucking or fucking."
"Yes," Jim hissed. "If you don't want me, put me in here, in the dark, with my ass and mouth filled, hands tied so I can't give in and satisfy myself."
"I want to sleep with you," Blair protested instantly, going still. "Hold you and be held by you when I'm coming down."
"Of course," Jim said instantly, because that's what he wanted, too. "And we'll just be together, too, like always. Meals, walks on the beach, t.v., whatever. But when you're taking your down time, or getting ready for whatever that deviously sexy mind comes up, this is where I want to be, ready and waiting for you to use me again. Please?" The last word came out half-strangled, but to be so close to what he'd lusted for all of his adult life and have his lover balk was a physical pain that knifed through his gut with nauseating power.
Very, very gently Blair asked, "Will you tell me why you need this? Not tonight, but before we go home Sunday?"
Relief was nearly as painful as the possible rejection had been. Jim gasped but quickly said, "Yes, I was going to anyway, even if you don't want to do more than cuddle and neck this weekend."
"All right, then," Blair said firmly, unwinding himself slowly from Jim's arms, making it clear it wasn't a rejection, but the next step in their love-making. "I want a good look at this room, first, though, before I start locking you in here, no matter how short a time."
Grinning, Jim reached up for the light switch by the door. "Brace yourself; this is a kick." Eyes closed so that he could adjust to the change without pain, he flicked the switch. As he opened them, he saw Blair blink twice, and Jim had to chuckle at his lover's wide-eyed stare. The entire eight by eight foot room was done in dark red velvets and satin, from wall to ceiling, and was completely featureless except for black hooks strategically placed in all six surfaces. He caught Blair by the waist and toppled backwards onto the waterbed that was set into the floor, taking up most of it, then rolled so that his lover was pinned under his weight.
"Nice!" Blair approved, bucking his hips and riding out the waves the motion caused. Catching Jim's eyes, he licked his lips slowly. "Lots and lots of possibilities." A second later, he frowned. "Cold, though."
"Heater's been off; it'll be warm enough in here for sleeping by the time we're ready for bed," Jim promised and kissed him thoroughly, taking his time to say 'thank you' and 'I love you' in the best way possible. When a shiver chased through Blair because of the cold water under him, Jim reluctantly pulled back and nimbly tumbled toward solid ground so he could stand. "Dinner first?"
"Sounds like a plan," Blair said happily as he stood, then he led the way out, holding Jim's hand possessively. "Give me a chance to think about what I want to do to you."
There was a husky promise under the words that made Jim shudder in pleasure, sending a powerful pang of need through his gut. Fighting off the urge to adjust himself in his pants, he followed his lover willingly, almost automatically falling into the pattern of setting the house to rights once they were back in the main house. Groceries were carried in and put away, the cupboards checked for invasion by mice and other critters, the walk-in freezer turned on, the hot water tank filled and heated – all the mundane tasks necessary just to get dinner started.
Clearly deep in thought as he went through the motions, Blair didn't ignore Jim, though he spoke very little. He let his hands speak for him, stroking and petting whenever they passed by each other, unerringly aiming for all the sweetly sensitive places on Jim's body, yet by-passing the obviously sexual ones. Blair's fingertips lingered over the hollow of his wrist, drew a possessive line over biceps, curved lovingly over his waist, and it was all far more arousing that Jim would have ever believed. By the time they sat down to eat he was as hard as he'd ever been, yet the urgency was muted into a quiet longing that didn't interfere with simply enjoying the shared meal with his lover.
Once they were through and the dishes done, Blair asked, "Do we need to do anything special to get the bathroom ready for use? I'm dying to give that hot tub a shot."
Mildly surprised and disappointed because he had hoped they were going to return to the safe room, or at least use one of the bedrooms upstairs, Jim still managed to joke, "I should have known your first goal would have been to get warm all the way through. At least this time I won't have to worry about the hot water running out. The tank is enormous."
"So's that hot tub – plenty of room for two." Blair leered at him, almost comically, his hands coming around to cup Jim's ass cheeks. "Going to scrub my back for me?"
"Depends. Can I scrub your front, too?" Leering back, Jim bumped his groin into Blair's, not reminding him so much as asking if everything was good in that department.
Stretching up to kiss him lightly, Blair murmured against his lips, "Easy, lover. We've got most of this weekend and I plan on taking my time in loving you, just the way you like. Almost in slow motion, if I can. Just to warn you, though - there's a good chance I just might fall on you and pound away until we're both unconscious, too."
"You keep telling me I need to take more down time; have to admit that's a drastic way to get me to do it, but, hey, if it works...." Jim ducked the swat Blair aimed at him, then went to get their suitcases. "The towels are in a cedar-lined linen closet opposite the bath, and the racks will heat if you plug them in. I'm going to check the circuit breakers, too, just to make sure that nothing got tripped during the winter."
"Meet you in the bathroom in ten minutes," Blair sang out cheerily, all but running for the closet.
It was closer to twenty before they had everything ready, mutually deciding to leave their luggage in the spacious dressing room off the bath, and once they were in the swirling bubbles, neither had any inclination to leave them. As he rested against the solid comfort of his lover, the pulsing water beat on muscles that Jim hadn't realized were tense, turning them into so much mush. Even his seemingly perpetual hard-on faded, though he had no doubt that it would spring to life the second Blair gave the slightest sign he wanted it back. Conversation was desultory, rambling from the job to friends to whatever crossed Blair's ever-agile mind.
Eventually some inner mechanism told Jim that he'd been in the tub long enough, and he unwillingly stirred, feeling very much as if limp rubber bands had replaced bone and sinew in his body. "Want to move this someplace dry?" he asked sleepily. "Nick's got satellite to every TV in the place; we could catch some scores or an old movie."
Very, very calmly, Blair said, "No, I want to meditate, so I'm going to put you to bed early. That way you'll be able to get a start first thing tomorrow on the work you want to do around this place."
The hard-on that Jim had thought dormant made a valiant effort to instantly reappear, but only managed an almost painful twitch. "Sounds good, Chief," he said, hiding his eagerness under bland tones. "We're going to get rain, and I want to check the roof first thing for missing shingles and what not."
"Mmm," Blair said disinterestedly. "Before you get out, bend over the edge of the tub for me for a minute, will you?"
Strangely, it took will-power to answer that request, though Jim hoped he managed it with an air of nonchalance. The rim of the tub was high enough that his backside was completely out of the water, though more than half of his dick was still submerged in the seething bubbles. With a nudge Blair had him adjust his position so that a jet of water was gently pummeling his growing hard-on, one of the weirdest and most interesting sensations he'd ever been subjected to. Blair spread Jim's ass cheeks with the palms of his hands and suddenly nothing mattered except that he was finally going to get what he needed and wanted.
A cold whisper of air moved over his opening, sending an erotic shudder through him that made his fingers clench into fists, knuckles standing out in relief. Blair didn't do anything for a long minute, as if inspecting what was his or perhaps deciding exactly what he wanted to do to it, then he bent and teased the very tip of his tongue from the top of Jim's cleft to the soft sac hanging between his thighs. It took every ounce of self-control that Jim had not to jump at the sudden caress, and he fought the urge to ease away, stomach squirming uneasily.
Though he had nothing against rimming and was more than willing to do it to Blair as long as he wanted, any time he wanted it, Jim didn't feel comfortable letting his lover return the favor. There was something intrinsically wrong in his mind for Blair to do something so potentially degrading just to pleasure Jim when there were so many other kinds of foreplay that were just as good. Or better.
Despite that, he couldn't deny the wonderful things that were being done to his pucker by one seriously agile and devoted tongue, nor that Blair seemed to be enjoying himself immensely. Soft, appreciative noises were spilling past his busy mouth, and Jim could hear him touching himself, fingers tugging and pulling on nipples and cock. That as much as anything got to Jim, and he relaxed into the tongue-fucking, almost against his will, rearing back into the gentle pressure, eyes closing slowly as he savored the touch.
As if that was what he had been waiting for, Blair slowly eased away, turning his deep, probing kiss into light licks and nibbles before stopping completely. Jim couldn't help a groan of protest, but Blair only chuckled evilly. "Hold still," he warned, voice husky and rough from his own arousal. "I'm putting a butt-plug in."
To Jim's disappointment it was a small one, barely larger than a single finger. He tightened around it compulsively, feeling his channel conform to the lubed plastic, pucker holding it securely. "Why so small?" he asked, successfully keeping any tone of complaint out of the words.
"So the next one will feel fuckin' huge," Blair said cheerfully. "Now, out."
Remembering how the rest of the evening was supposed to go, Jim hurried to comply, drying himself off with indecent haste before doing a much more leisurely job of it on Blair. In short order they were back in the safe room and he was showing his lover the control panel for the lights, heating and security system that was built into one side of the flooring surrounding the waterbed.
"Good. I was worried about being able to hear you if something went wrong," Blair said, experimentally switching on the small lights running along the floor next to the walls.
"Nick's a masochist, not an idiot." Jim stretched thoroughly, preparing himself to be more or less motionless for a while. "Though sometimes it's a close call."
"Don't you be one, either." Blair poked him gingerly in the stomach with a forefinger, expression completely serious. "If something goes wrong, like a cramp or allergies closing up your breathing, I expect you to raise a ruckus so I can get in here. That's why I won't put the gag on too tight or use knots that you can't get out of if you have to."
The care his lover was taking went straight through Jim, arousing him more than he had thought simple words could. His dick, fully hard, bobbed once against his stomach, leaving a damp trace behind, and Blair laughingly licked it away. With a judicious shove he sent Jim tumbling onto the bed, then pounced, peppering more licks over whatever bit of him was closest. They lovingly wrestled, rolling from one side of the bed to the other as Blair found different places to kiss, but in very short order he was sitting square in the middle of Jim's back, mouth fastened onto the curve of a shoulder.
"Hands," Blair whispered against moistened skin.
The minute shivers from the cool over heated flesh sent Jim's libido into hyper drive, but he mutely did as told, waiting patiently as his wrists were bound by one of the satin ropes kept in the linen closet. When he was tied, he examined the knot with his sense of touch, nodding once at Blair's questioning eyebrow that he could undo it in a hurry if necessary. Then he nodded again after the dildo gag was fitted loosely into his mouth, filling it but not so completely he couldn't breathe around it if he had to. In truth, given the safety features built into the room, he didn't feel he really needed the precautions – or really want them – but they reassured his lover. And anything that let Blair relax and enjoy what Jim wanted was fine by him.
With a last kiss to the top of his head, Blair left, closing the door behind him and leaving him alone in the dark and near-silence. If Jim strained, he could hear the tiny hiss of the open microphone, but that was only so much white noise to him, easy to ignore. The waterbed ebbed and flowed with his breathing, making tiny, tiny sloshing sounds that reminded him of surf, mixing into the hiss. All of it combined to a hypnotically soothing background that sent him into a deep, calm sleep, despite the erection that never quite died.
His rest was so profound that for the first time since they had become lovers, Jim didn't wake when Blair came into the bedroom, even when he flicked on the nightlights at the edge of the floor. The removal of the rope and gag didn't disturb him, nor did the subtle jostling of the bed as Blair climbed under the covers. It wasn't until he wrapped himself around Jim, fragrant with the faint scent of mint and smoke from the candles and fire, body pliant and warm, that Jim stirred. Barely aware, he nuzzled into the curls under his chin and hugged his lover close, then went back under without so much as a change in breathing.
When awareness finally did filter back in with the first light of the day, Jim focused all of his senses on Blair and decided that his lover would want to sleep at least a few more hours. Though he was tempted to lie with him, he wasn't sure that he wouldn't give into the urgent complaints of his cock and love Blair awake. With a reluctance that nearly hurt, Jim made himself get up and begin the day's chores.
By the time Blair finally emerged from the safe room, looking tousled and appetizing, Jim had taken care of his usual morning routine and was sitting at the table, going over the Nick's checklist. Blair stumbled in the general direction of the coffee and Jim forestalled him by the simple expedient of holding a full mug fixed the way he liked it in the middle of his path. With an unintelligible mutter he snatched away the mug, then shifted direction to aim for the bathroom. When he wandered back in some time later, the cup was empty and his eyes were bright and alert.
Pouring himself another cup of coffee, he leaned over Jim's shoulder to take a look at the print on the pages, then gave a snort of laughter. "You keep *notes* on what you did every time you opened the house for him?"
Unperturbed, Jim said, "And he leaves notes for me to what broke or needed attention while he was using it last season. That way we both know if there's any ongoing problems." He thumbed through the thick sheath of papers, stopped about midway. "For instance, when he had the new storm windows installed, he left me detailed notes on how to take them on and off because that would be part of opening and closing from then on."
Curious now, Blair read over a few paragraphs. "I still think the whole thing is way too organized for a summer home."
"Makes sense, though, when you've got more than one person taking care of it." Jim stood, finished his own cup of coffee and dropped a kiss on his lover's lips. "I don't think the rain's going to hit for a while, but I still want to tackle the roof as soon as possible."
"I'll check it from the other side, like the Nick wants," Blair muttered.
With an abrupt change of gears that caught Jim totally by surprise, he added, "Before you go...." Catching him by the waistband of his jeans, Blair sat in Jim's vacated seat, then undid the zipper to take out Jim's semi-hard cock. "That plug giving you any problems? Are you sore?" Chuckling, he rubbed his thumb over the damp crown of Jim's erection. "And has this gone down completely since last night?"
"Uh! Plug's... God!, Blair...'kay... I don't think... oh! gone do...." Jim cut the last word off as Blair took him in his mouth, lips tight and wet around the head. In a few heart beats he was completely hard, struggling not to thrust into the heat moving up and down his length.
With an obscene slurp, Blair released him, but jacked the bottom half of the shaft for a second longer, as if to test how erect Jim was. "Time for a cock ring. Since I want you to keep it on until tomorrow, you let me know the *instant* it starts getting uncomfortable, for any reason. I'll be checking on you, too."
"Since that toy in your hand is your favorite and mine," Jim said, a small smile in place. "I won't hesitate."
"Okay, then." Blair took three rings linked by a thin strip of smooth plastic from the pocket of his bathroom, and thumbed open the bottom one. "Spring locked, so you can adjust it to a perfect fit." He fit the bottom, largest ring around the base of Jim's hard-on, then smoothed the plastic up the outer side of it before placing the second, and repeated the action for the third. It was almost like a corset for a cock, squeezing the spongy flesh just enough to create a ripple effect that had to feel great for the person being fucked by it. For the person wearing it Jim discovered, the grip bordered on hurting, trapping blood in the head of the cock, making it extra sensitive.
It took several deep breaths and a stern reminder to himself that he had asked for this torment, and in the past had endured worse for the chance to have a weekend like this one, to keep from coming. Finally Jim managed to say in a relatively bland voice, "Are you planning on using it like that?"
"Can't wait, actually." With a last kiss planted on Jim's navel, Blair got up. "But not right away. The sooner we take care of business, the sooner we can concentrate on fun."
"You're killing me here, Chief." The grumble had no real protest in it, though, and Jim left quickly, anxious to get back to the fun but forcing his mind out of his pants and onto the job ahead. It was more difficult that he had expected it to be, given that he had a lifetime of putting aside his own needs, but it helped that Blair was out of sight. Not out of range of his hearing, though, and that contact was enough to quiet the instinct to be sure that his mate was safe.
With that reassurance he was able to concentrate on safely checking the roof, finding a few spots that needed his attention, though someone else might have missed them. While Jim looked over the shingles and gutters, Blair inspected the roof from the inside, ranging through the attic and crawl spaces to do it. After an all clear that no damage had been found on that side, Jim climbed down, intent on replacing the storm windows with screens.
Blair was waiting for him at the bottom of the ladder, still wearing only his robe and flip-flops, the tie undone to show off his firm, flat belly and rock-hard cock. He greeted Jim with a deep, hungry kiss that instantly zoomed both of them back to where they had been when Blair had on the cockring then pushed a step further. Moaning, Blair finally broke away, panting harshly, smoky blue eyes dazed.
Without thinking Jim reached for him to claim his lips again, but Blair ducked away, putting up a halting hand. "I've only got so much willpower. Back to windows, okay?" He turned on his heel without waiting for an answer, muttering encouragements to himself to stick with his plan.
Aching dick or not, Jim grinned, absurdly pleased both with the effect he was having on his lover and at how hard Blair was trying to do as he had asked. Carrying that with him, he began ferrying screen windows from the garage where they were stored in the winter, anticipation making it all a blur of motion that didn't soak into memory. After a while Blair came out, fully dressed, and helped with the job, carrying the storm windows to storage while Jim put up the screens, carefully keeping his distance as they worked. In a surprisingly short order they were finished, but before Jim could go onto the next chore, Blair took him by the hand and led him to the porch.
A pallet of cushions and blankets had been made up in one corner, and without further ado, Blair pushed him down onto it, fastening his mouth onto Jim's almost painfully. At his urging, Jim rolled to his back, nearly automatically helping him squirm out of his sweatpants. Then Blair sat back on his heels so that his lover's cock was in front of him, and rolled a condom down over the tall shaft, making sure along the way that the cock ring wasn't causing any problems.
Air suddenly became scarce for Jim, and he dug both fists into the bedding to stop himself from taking what his body was insisting he had to have, *right now!* After generously smearing lube over the sheathed cock, Blair raised himself over it and sat, taking it into himself as slowly as strength and gravity would allow. To Jim's shock, he was already open and wet, and that simple fact blasted away every last rational thought in his head.
With bestial patience he held his body motionless, straining up into his mate's body only when it seemed Blair could move down no further, the slender plug in his ass suddenly feeling like a elephant's dick. He suffered through the equally slow withdrawal with quiet snarling that would have astounded him if he'd had mind enough left to realize he was doing it. The snarls changed to whimpers when Blair started back down, then repeated at the next retreat. And repeated. And repeated.
Ten times Blair lowered himself onto Jim's cock. On the tenth trip back up, he let it slip out completely and stood on trembling legs, moaning in loss. Blindly Jim arched up to find the sweltering tightness that he needed so desperately, then the absolute lack of it jolted him back to self-awareness. For a moment all he could do was stare at his lover, who was staring back at him with a feral hunger in his expression that would have alarmed him if he hadn't been as starving.
Dredging up language skills, Jim said hoarsely, "Asking won't bring you back to finish what you started, will it?"
"Yes, but I'm asking you not to ask," Blair said, voice as rough as Jim's.
Disbelievingly, Jim asked, "You're going to wait to come with me?"
"I want to. Don't know if I can. Especially with you looking like that."
With a groan of pure agony, Jim turned away from him, facing the wall of the house. Using deliberate brutality, he squeezed the head of his dick, but that discomfort was nothing to the animal inside of him that was howling with demands to rut. When he could speak again, he said roughly, "Nick likes to have the house aired out and the electronic equipment tested to make sure it's working. The notes have everything you need."
It wasn't an order, or a request, but Blair said tightly, "Yeah, I can do that."
He didn't leave, though, but stood there, heartbeat and respiration all over the place, scent high with lust and pheromones. Just as Jim thought he was going to have to be the first one to move, Blair abruptly spun and left at full speed, the front door slamming behind him as he went inside.
It took several long, frustrating minutes before Jim was able to calm himself enough to peel away the condom and mop up the lube that had managed to get everywhere. Standing was a challenge, but he met it, and walking away from the house was even more of a one. All during those brief, violent inner battles, he yo-yo'ed back and forth between insane joy at his violent arousal and deep fear that giving into this particular need may have been a huge mistake.
Habit more than anything else took him through the rest of the outside chores, and finally everything was done except the tour of the property line to make sure that the security fence hadn't been broached or damaged. Supposedly the security company that Nick had hired to keep an eye on the place in the off season took care of that, but Jim never trusted any hired cop until he had a reason to. Besides, the circuit from the beach to the tree line along the back of the property, then back to the house from the beach was a beautiful, peaceful hike.
Jim hesitated, wanting to ask Blair to go with him, but not sure if he would withstand the temptation of having him so close. In the long run, he decided that had to be his lover's decision. That was part and parcel of the pact they had made: Blair was the one in control of what happened when.
He went into the house by the deck at the back, taking off his shoes so he wouldn't carry sand inside, then followed his nose to the kitchen where he could smell one of Blair's wonderful stews simmering. True to his expectations, his lover was there, sitting at the table and making his own notations on the checklist. It was so Blair that love rose up and over the lust that had been ruling Jim all day, making the gaze he sent his partner's way soft and mellow.
"Ready for a walk?"
"Checking the fence, right?" Blair said absently, eyes on the paperwork.
"It's a nice hike," Jim confirmed obliquely. "About two hours and the last half an hour or so is the hardest, usually, because I like to come back by the beach."
"Yeah?" This time Blair did look up, and he blinked at whatever it was he was reading from Jim's face, his own expression warming sweetly with love. "Doesn't have to be hard if you take your time and stroll, you know."
"True, but there's no guarantee the weather will let us."
"Do you know how far off that rain is?"
Jim listened to something inside himself that he didn't know how to describe, no matter how many times Blair had patiently walked him through the attempt. It was part sensory, part experience, and part that didn't seem to have anything to do with him at all. "It's going to get here around sunset or a little earlier. But the wind's already starting to kick up and the surf's rising."
"Great! For us, right here, right now – that's perfect. Give me a minute to get a jacket, then we'll get started."
Shaking his head despite the partial smile on his face, Jim had to admit to himself that his partner, was right, as usual. Right now battling the elements *was* perfect for both of them. It would be tiring enough to dull the edge of the desire that was sawing between them, but invigorating in its own right, leaving all the senses alive and aware. But there was no reason for him to tell Blair he agreed, was there?
A smile grew and Jim began to make up lunch in a daypack for the hike, along with a few other potentially useful things.
Not quite two hours later, not yet in sight of the house and pleasantly weary from the trek, Jim paused to admire Blair's backside as he bent over to pick up yet another interesting something from the sand. The amazing thing wasn't how many of those bits and pieces he found, but that, after a careful examination, Blair always put it back exactly where he found it. Once or twice he had found a living creature that belonged in deeper water and had thrown it back in, or nudged it into the surf so that it could make it on its own.
Apparently that was the case this time, and Jim watched as the jellyfish found the surge of water it needed and began to ride the current back out to sea. Without thinking he followed it with his sight as far as he could, and at the last moment pulled himself back from zoning at the lovely, hypnotic undulations of its bell as it began to swim. Brief as his preoccupation had been, Blair had noticed and had come to stand in front of him, one hand flat in the center of Jim's chest.
When he saw that Jim had coped on his own, he started to move away, but Jim laid his hand over the one on him, savoring the warmth, slight though it was. Closing his eyes, he savored that touch, letting the rest of his senses soar with the wild pulsing of the surf and the relentless pummeling force of the wind. The primal beat of it woke the beast inside him, and the cockring pinched as his erection revved back to full hardness, reminding him very pointedly that the day had another agenda that needed his attention.
Either Blair read that surge of lust from Jim's body language or it spoke to him directly through some mysterious means of its own, but a soft gasp told Jim that his lover knew the direction his thoughts had turned. The wind sent Blair's scent to him, charged again with the fragrance of passion, and Jim sighed, gratefully allowing himself to wait for whatever would happen next. It wasn't long in coming; Blair wrapped himself around him as if he were the wind itself, clinging along Jim's front with bone crushing force.
Jim bent and found Blair's lips with his own, kissing him riotously as the force of the storm racing in toward them, not at all surprised that he returned it with equal ferocity. He was harder than Jim had ever felt him, and so aroused that his hips were grinding against Jim's crotch as if it were the first time he'd ever had the chance to come in his life. Squashing the impulse to carry him down to the sand and have him then and there, Jim held his ground, not moving as Blair used him wildly.
By some miracle of strength that Jim couldn't begin to fathom, Blair slowed his frenetic humping, then stopped, chest heaving as he struggled for control. Finally he took a single step away, still within reach, close enough that there was no rejection in the action. "Take out your cock," he ordered, an odd quiver in his voice. "I want to see it."
With shaking hands, Jim did as told, his own body clenching as the brisk bite of the wind whipped over the overly sensitive skin. From habit he quickly checked the swollen flesh, making sure the bite of the cockring was doing no damage, knowledgeable fingertips telling him the blood flow was good despite the restriction. The minor exploration felt good, and he continued on down to the sac hanging under the shaft, rolling his balls gently, then not so gently.
Blair's sturdy hands covered his, moving along with him over his tummy, balls and cock, squeezing and stroking until Jim warned by grabbing his wrists that he was close. Nodding his understanding, Blair switched directions, tunneling his way under the sweater Jim wore, his chilly hands warming quickly from the heat captured there. Cool palms settled over Jim's nipples, bringing them to aching peaks almost instantly, and he rocked his torso from side to side in a bid for more.
"Always amazes me how much you love that," Blair muttered. "Never did much for me until that incredible mouth of yours started loving mine." He nipped at the little nubs through the thick yarn of the sweater, then yanked away his hands to dig in his jacket pocket. A second later he triumphantly pulled out a pair of nipple clamps then pushed up the sweater long enough to place them. The bite was enough to distract Jim from his cock, and this time he was the one to move back a step.
"Storm's coming; maybe we'd better take this indoors."
"I want my ten strokes first," Blair said, undoing the front of his jeans. "Right here, right now."
"God, Blair...."
Handing him lube and condom, Blair said firmly, "You can do it if you want to badly enough, and if it turns out you can't stop, I'm not going to complain." He went to his hands and knees, bottom bared just enough for Jim to be able to penetrate him. The sand had to be wet and cold, but if it bothered him, he didn't say a word. Instead he said, "Put it in me and let me do the rest."
The echo of the words, almost identical to the night when Jim finally came clean to his lover about his past and the needs that had been created from it, almost unmanned him. But the upturned ass, the center showing traces of dampness from where Blair had prepared himself, commanded him in a way he couldn't have denied if he had even known how. He simply could not give his mate what he wanted.
Kneeling, he hurriedly readied himself, hardly noticing the cold water soaking through his pants or the mad way the surf was beginning to churn and surge. Guessing what Blair wanted, Jim barely breached the guardian ring, then went still, waiting for his lover to make the next move. Blair inched back onto the shaft, and all Jim could do was watch his cock vanish into him, stretching the opening wide as it entered. The sight had always fascinated him, but without speed blurring the action, it held an erotic impact that let him finally understand why Blair had lost control the first time Jim had been on the receiving end of this gradual admission.
Around them nature went insane with the power of the storm, the wind whipping at them viciously while the waves dashed closer and closer, never quite touching but drenching them both in salt spray. Jim never once noticed more than it took to make sure they were safe from the fury of the ocean. All his mind and will was focused on those precious inches where he and his mate were joined, the thought of coming impossible to consider because then he would lose their contact.
Inevitably, it had to end, as promised, after ten of the ultra slow strokes he loved so much. Though Blair pulled completely away, for several long, long minutes he stayed where he was, head hanging down almost to the ground, body trembling. Finally he struggled to his feet, avoiding the helping hand that Jim offered him. "No, not right now. Let me cool down some more."
"My *hand* is too much for you?" Jim said, sitting back on his heels, tucking his hard-on back into his pants, despite the mess. After all, they were both soaking wet and crusted with salt and sand.
"At the moment," Blair said so softly that even Jim had trouble hearing him, "even your breath brushing over my lips would be enough to break me." With an all over shake he pulled himself together and did up his pants. "I need a hot bath – by myself. Maybe you'd better shower first, so I can put you up until I've warmed up and rested."
Bending from the waist, Jim put his forehead on the cold, abrasive sand, pushing at the yielding surface until small screams from his skin could over-ride the sudden, enormous rush of lust that insisted he come right now, restraint or no restraint. Clenching his teeth over a roar of denial, he rode out waves of need that rivaled the violence of the ocean, until, wondering tiredly how much he thought he could really take, he was able to straighten.
He was alone, and to judge by the divots he could see that had been made by Blair's footsteps, Blair must have run from him to keep from giving in, himself. It was rough comfort of a sort, and Jim creakily got to his feet, feeling every inch of his cock, every millimeter of the dildo inside him, and the tiny, tiny metal teeth of the clamps holding his nipples. It was all more than arousing; that word was too small for what was seething inside him.
It was also exhausting in its own way, and by the time he trudged back to the house and took his shower, Blair conspicuously absent the entire time, he longed for the comfort of the safe room. He stepped out of the bathroom ready to go to bed without the bonds he'd asked for, but Blair was waiting for him just outside. Wordlessly he followed Jim to the edge of the waterbed, efficiently tied and gagged him, then left at full speed. Not insulted by it, but relieved in an obscure way, Jim sank into his peaceful retreat, flowing with the incredible sensations owning his body.
That melded seamlessly into rest – not sleep so much as just being on stand-by, like when he'd been in the Army forced to march or stay awake for days on end. It was restoring in its own way, and when Blair came in to fetch him for dinner, the insanity of the beach had receded to the status of a memory that he would hang onto even if Alzheimer's or its equivalent took his mind. After he dressed, dinner was eaten in a near silence that was as comfortable for both of them as their own skin, and of one mind they settled down on the huge leather couch to make a start on working their way through Nick's huge collection of DVD's.
Outside the storm finally arrived, and the patter of the rain beating on the roof, along with the flickering warmth of the fire, emphasized the coziness of the room and their companionship. Leaning back into Blair's arms, Jim watched the action on the screen – the original X-rated version of Flesh Gordon, which never failed to make him smile – and listened contentedly not to the rain, but to his lover's heartbeat.
Out of nowhere as far as Jim was concerned, Blair asked casually, "Your father was the one who taught you to love being aroused and alone in the dark, wasn't he?"
"Just before he stopped using me," Jim answered with no difficulty at all, mildly startled by that. "Sally had taken Stevie on some field trip for his school during a long weekend, and Dad decided I was old enough to be left on my own. I took advantage of having the house to myself to masturbate. The old man walked in on me in the middle, which probably wouldn't have been a problem if I hadn't had two fingers up my ass while I was jacking off."
It felt like Blair winced all over all at once, and Jim rubbed calming, loving circles onto the legs stretched out on either side of him. It didn't seem to help much; the semi-erect dick that had been pressing into the small of his back vanished. "Yeah, it was pretty bad. He went berserk, threw me to my stomach, beat me with his belt until his arm got tired, then used me."
The memory no longer held any injury for Jim, and his tone was almost disinterested as he recited the details, but he could tell that he was deeply disturbing his lover. //No shit,// he thought. //But he deserves to know, and I'll help him handle it, just like he helped me, though he didn't know that he was. Hell, *I* didn't know, at first.//
"And then," Blair prompted quietly when Jim unintentionally let the silence go on too long.
"And then he tied me up, telling me that if I was going to be a faggot, he'd show me what I had to look forward to, stuffed something in my ass – I still have no idea what – and threw me in the closet in his bedroom. Kept me there most of the weekend while he drank himself into oblivion over and over. Once in a while he'd remember where I was, and would drag me out long enough to use me again and maybe give me some water if he thought about it, then put me back in the closet."
The anger pouring off Blair was almost a tangible thing, but Jim didn't try to defuse it. God knows he'd spent enough time blindly furious himself, and Blair was way better at working his way through it. Voice studiously neutral, Blair said, "You sound like you're reciting a case report – no, I take that back. No matter how controlled you come off, I can always see the compassion in you for the victim. There's not even that much emotion coming through here."
"Lots of reasons for that, Chief." Though his eyes were on the silly events taking place on the screen, his sight was thumbing through the memories of his life, almost habitually weighing the good against the bad. "After it was all over, the old man never once acted like anything had ever happened, and I was just as happy to pretend it never did. You can believe a lie to yourself like that for a long, long time, especially when you're trying hard to be just another normal suburban teenager."
"Fuck," Blair swore softly to no one in particular, shifting restlessly. "But it can't hold."
"Broke through when I was living with the Chopec. Thank God for Inchaca. He not only helped me accept that it *had* happened, but helped me accept who I was, what I was, because of it. Or maybe despite it." Jim gave an all-over shrug, dismissing the months of inner turmoil that he had hid behind a facade of duty and determination to complete his mission, no matter what.
Not buying it for a moment, Blair kissed the top of his head, holding in what felt like a sigh. "That why you left the army when you got back?"
"Part of it. You've been at the department long enough that you had to have heard some of the rumors about me back before I transferred to Major Crimes."
Apparently picking his words with extreme care, hands soothing along Jim's arms, Blair said, "It's not uncommon for sexually abused people to go through a period of promiscuity and social rebellion to try to establish ownership of their own body. And because, on some level, they feel as if they must have been a bad person to begin with to be abused by someone they trusted, so there's no reason not to go wild."
"Lucky for me Jack Pendergrast came along," Jim said, neither disagreeing or agreeing with his lover. He had his own opinions about what went on during those first out-of-control months as a civilian. "He showed me somebody that I could be that I could respect, even like."
Muttering nearly to himself, Blair said, "I always wondered how he'd won such complete loyalty from you; you don't give that easily."
"For all his flaws," Jim said gently, "He never failed to watch my back; he never let me down."
Obviously deciding neither to agree or disagree on that one, himself, Blair lapsed into silence, and for a while they went back to watching the nearly forgotten movie. When it ended, though, he didn't let Jim get up to put in another. Instead he said hesitantly, "Ever since I've known you, you've been completely comfortable with your sexuality and self-image. That's a lot of healing; usually it takes something along the lines of a life or death crisis or maybe a major confrontation with the abuser."
Taking his turn at choosing his words carefully to protect secrets that weren't his to give, Jim said, "Stevie went head-to-head with him over it, a few years back. Which is why he absolutely refuses to have anything to do with the man at all. Apparently Pops claims none of it happened, though when he had his back to the wall, he admitted that he'd been over-doing it on the booze and had been having blackouts because of it."
"Oh, my, God," Blair said tightly. "He wouldn't even take responsibility."
"Or maybe he really doesn't remember. Who would want to recall acting like an animal if they had the slightest excuse to forget?" Jim said reasonably, apparently too reasonably.
Blair's agitation grew to the point that Jim could feel fine tremors racing through the body so close to his own, more than likely killing any interest in sex that Blair might have had left. Wanting to distract him before he could explode into ranting and pacing, Jim said with what he hoped was an air of confessing, "Actually you can blame Nick for me handling the whole damn thing so well in the long run. Having someone *know* your secret, positive it won't ever be told, goes a long, long way to easing the scars. Not to mention he's a prime example of how self-destructive secrets can be, if you let them."
It worked; Blair relaxed, arms coming up around him for a hug, then he asked diffidently, "I know you won't give me any details that concern him, personally, but could you at least tell me how he learned about what your father did to you? I mean, you're not lovers, and you're so private, I can't exactly see that spilling during dinner conversation."
Jim thought about that for a moment, then decided Nick wouldn't mind what little would come out by answering that question. "I was pretty dazed for a couple of days after Dad finally untied me and sent me to my room. Stevie noticed, of course, but didn't have a clue how to help; Sally didn't because Dad had big party planned for the night after she got back. It was the kind of business thing where the men brought wives and kids, and Nick was there. I'd met him before, of course and seen him at school, but he was a few grades behind me, so I didn't know him well."
Fingers idly drawing odd patterns on Blair's forearms where they circled his chest, Jim fell silent a moment, dismissing details that didn't really matter to the conversation. "Anyway, he and I found ourselves alone upstairs for a few minutes, and he dragged me into the bathroom, bent over the bathtub, pushing his shirt up and his pants down enough for me to see how badly he'd been beaten and fucked. He was still bleeding, Chief. He was still bleeding, but what got through to me was the scars – how many there were and how old."
Despite it all, despite having Blair holding him, Jim couldn't stop a shudder of at the echoes of pain and sorrow that memory always held for him. With an air of finality, closing the subject, he said, "We never talked about how he knew what I was going through, or why he did what he did. And I was lucky; it stopped soon after for me. It didn't stop for Nick until he was old enough to fight back and win, but by then he'd learned to love the pain."
"And that's why you were never lovers?" Blair asked.
Sick and tired of dredging up the past when all he really wanted was to make love until he and Blair were both too exhausted to do anything but sleep, Jim deliberately turned toward the one thing he'd wanted most for Blair to hear from him the entire weekend. The time was right for it. "Sex with men was always fast, anonymous, and sometimes brutal. Hell, it wasn't much better with most of the women, but at least I was usually attracted to them as people. Sad to say, all I ever cared about in a man was how big a dick the guy had and how fast I could get rid of them. Until you came along, I'd never had a male *lover,* Chief, and damned few female ones."
Blair's arms tightened, and he leaned forward so he could rest his chin on Jim's shoulder. But he stubbornly stayed on topic and said, "But you were married, and serious about at least one woman that I know of."
Closing his eyes, locking his fingers over Blair's crossed wrists where they rested on his chest, Jim said slowly, shaping each word agonizingly, "I wanted love; I didn't believe it would ever come from a man."
Whimpering once, Blair shifted so that he could wrap his legs around Jim's waist and hugged with all he had, forehead digging almost painfully into the nape of Jim's neck. Voice thick, Jim made himself finish. "You taught me differently, kept on loving me no matter how much I pushed you away or lashed out. You always came back for more, giving me the guff I needed to accept that you *wanted* to be with me. It took too damned long, Blair, and I'm so sorry about all those years wasted and all the grief and sorrow, but I swear, I *swear,* I'm going to spend the rest of my life making sure you never feel anything but wanted and loved."
Voice rough with unshed tears, Blair said, "None of that matters, and it was all worth it. You're forgiven. You've always been forgiven, and if you break your promise and do it again, I'm going to stop cooking with anything but tofu, kelp and pineapple."
Laughing shakily, surreptitiously smudging damp cheeks on his shoulder, Jim said, "You trying to get me killed here, Chief? Major Crimes will lynch me if you stop making your ostrich chili."
"I didn't say I was going to stop cooking for them or anybody else. Just for you," Blair laughed back, still holding on tightly.
"Now that's just plain cruel – making me smell the good stuff while feeding me pineapple-stewed kelp. Or would that be kelp-stewed pineapple?"
Blair let out an uneven, hitching breath, and kissed the side of Jim's neck. "Threats are supposed to involve cruelty, or they're not threats."
Tilting his head to make access easier and winning another wetter, more serious kiss a few inches away from the first, Jim said agreed amiably, "Got a point there."
"No, that went away," Blair muttered. "I wouldn't have thought anything short of certain drastic surgical procedures would have gotten rid of it, either." He planted another kiss, this one with a bite in it, just at Jim's jaw, right under the ear.
"Keep that up, and I'll be hard enough for both of.... oh!" A delicious shimmy of pure good chased down Jim's spine, making his dick jerk and his ass tighten around the plug inside him as Blair smoothed both hands up his chest to tap gently at the nipple clamps and the tortured bits held by them.
"A few more noises like that last little 'oh,' and the problem will be getting my seriously ready cock in you before coming." Blair unzipped Jim's pants, freeing his hard-on to the warm air of the cabin, then said. "Yeah. Make that sound again; talk about sexy.... Needy and hungry and willing and...." Blair trailed off, groaning and pushing his crotch into Jim's back.
"Let me have it," Jim whispered, not ashamed of the begging tone. "Let me bend over for you, or ride you – I don't care how. Just, let me have you inside me." "
How'm I 'spose to say no to that," Blair complained, not at all seriously.
He gave a gentle push to the middle of Jim's back to get him to move, and Jim eagerly got to his feet, hanging onto Blair's hand, to lead him into the safe room. Once inside, enclosed in the velvety blackness and deep hush, they shed their clothes quickly, if gracelessly, unwilling to be far enough apart or let go long enough, to make it easy. Gentle nudges told Jim to crawl onto the bed first, then to lie on his side, and Blair spooned up behind him, fitting his cock into the crease between Jim's thighs. To have it so close, but not *in,* drove Jim half-crazy, and he pressed his backside as firmly into Blair's groin as he dared, body all but pleading for penetration.
Hands flitting everywhere, not to calm but to flog their desire even higher, Blair bit at Jim's shoulder blade, then muttered, "Wait, wait. I want this to last more than three seconds.
Fists knotted into the pillow he had pulled to his chest, Jim gritted his teeth and did his best to hang on, all too aware of every inch of Blair that was touching him. He could feel the blood moving through his lover's hard-on, feel a million tiny caresses from the hairs on Blair's front, *feel* the urgency binding them together.
Eventually, whether because he thought he could handle it or because he couldn't delay any longer, Blair gingerly removed the butt plug, massaging more lube into the opening. Changing the angle of his hips, he slowly breached the loosened muscle, then glided in a millimeter at a time, giving Jim time to savor being filled. After having the slender toy in for so long, Blair's cock felt enormous as it entered him, and Jim unintentionally tightened on the intruder even more. Moaning in ecstasy, holding still only because his lover had a death-grip on his balls, he could have come then and there, cock ring or not.
As it was, the waterbed began to rock ever so slightly in reaction to the violent quakes slamming through Jim's muscles as he fought off his release, and the waves caused minor shifts in Blair's position, altering the angle of his cock inside Jim in small amounts. Blair must have liked that. He deliberately added his own minute adjustments, rotating and grinding his hips to make his dick probe and prod at the delicate tissues surrounding it, sending constant shocks through every nerve Jim had.
It was incredible, like fucking without thrusting, satisfying the demand to move without providing enough stimulation to make him come. More turned on than he could ever remember being, Jim finally broke, and with a softly keening wail, inched off Blair's cock. Blair allowed it, then, when only the crown of his hard-on with still inside Jim, he pushed back in as slowly as he'd left.
Ten times they shared the gradual retreat and return, and as Blair reached the rim of Jim's pucker the tenth time, he withdrew completely, replaced the plug, then scrambled over to lie face-to-face with him. Strategically placing his arms and elbows so that over-stressed hard-ons couldn't meet, Blair said through rasping gasps, "No more."
Swallowing hard through a throat that was too dry, Jim squirmed uneasily, but didn't protest. After a moment, Blair added, "Rest, if you can. When I can handle it, I'll take you again."
Jim gave a sharp bark of laughter that had no humor in it. "You're joking, right?"
"If you want this to last as long as possible, no," Blair said flatly. His voice softened, and he added, "Drift in the darkness, if you like. I promise I won't let you go too far." Taking his own advice, Blair put his forehead in the middle of Jim's chest and controlled his breathing, forcing it into steady, even inhales and exhales.
With that to guide him, and as much as from necessity as anything else, Jim heaved a huge sigh, and tried to relax, if not doze. He was successful, at least enough that when Blair reached around to find his pucker and slip free the plug before inching a finger inside, it was a shock - a very pleasant shock that sent his cock back into pleading mode, throbbing painfully in time with each pump of Blair's finger. Another was added, doubling the pleasure and the complaint in Jim's body, and caught between the two, all he could do was writhe, hardly able to keep from growling his frustration.
As abruptly as the torment began, it ended, the dildo was put back in, and Blair put a few inches of space between them, his arms a barrier against being pulled back. "I keep imagining the expression on your face right now," he whispered. "I like it; I like it a lot. A lot more than I expected."
"Good," Jim muttered, carefully stretching muscles that were beginning to knot from tension. "You'll want to do this again."
"And again and again and again," Blair murmured dreamily, respiration returning to his meditation pattern.
It was more difficult for Jim to calm, but he did drift back off again, only to be awakened when Blair climbed over him. "Ten more strokes?" he asked, voice thick.
"Ten more."
This time he could sense with the few particles of rationality that could function the ragged edge to his lover's control as he used him. Half-hoping that he would lose it, but not enough to provoke him, Jim made it through the abbreviated fucking, though he all but shouted in denial when Blair rolled away, completely out of arm's reach after plugging him again. For a long time they both lay on their backs, staring into nothing, until exhaustion claimed both of them, aching cocks not withstanding.
Jim's inner clock told him it was dawn when he jolted awake from a wet-dream of biblical proportions, and he stealthily left the bed, unable to bear being so close to Blair without touching him. For a hard, hard moment he was tempted to crawl on top of his lover and simply start riding him, but an unusual peace deep in his heart and soul wouldn't let him. He and Blair both had been trying to hard to wait; it wouldn't have been right for him to force the issue, he decided unwillingly.
Leaving the room was much easier than he had expected it to be, and he quickly took care of his morning routine, skipping breakfast except for coffee and toast. That done, he put the finishing touches on getting the house ready for the season, the began packing up to go home. When Jim was nearly done with that, he heard Blair stumbled out of the safe room and into the bath, and went in to get the sheets to put in the hamper. Starting Monday a housekeeper would be dropping by once a week until further notice to see to things like that, whether Nick had been there or not, but that didn't stop him from doing the little housework necessary to pick up after himself and Blair. It filled the time until his lover was ready for him, if nothing else.
Going out to load the truck with their suitcases, Jim stopped to turn his face up to the sky, filling his lungs with the fresh, salty air. Last night's rain had blown through completely, leaving a beautiful spring day such as the Northwest rarely saw. The sunshine was as warm and caressing as a lover's touch, and even the breeze was sultry.
"Man, can you imagine a more perfect day?" Blair said from the porch.
"Or a more perfect weekend." Jim turned to smile lazily at him, leaning one arm on the truck, not at all surprised that Blair looked more alert than he usually did first thing in the morning. Or that his lover was still sporting a serious hard-on.
"No reason to hurry back?" Carrying a folded blanket and water bottle, Blair walked down off the porch, eyes flashing in an intoxicating mix of love and lust.
"Got something in mind?"
"Definitely. I saw someplace yesterday when we were out hiking that I want to go back to. That little glade where the pine trees arched over three sides of a sloping bank, almost making a small room? Know the spot?"
There was something very hopeful hidden far below the casual words, and curious as to what caused it, Jim said, "Sure. Just shady enough not to get a burn from the direct sunlight, but still sunny enough to be warm, even this early."
Taking Jim's hand, Blair asked, "Will it take long to get back there?"
"Depends on how much of a hurry you're in."
Pressing the hand he held into the bulge in his jeans, Blair said, "A big one; time to take care of this."
"Not fast enough." Taking the blanket, Jim started off in the right direction, all but dragging a laughing Blair with him.
Though they could have made the trip in ten minutes at a run, Jim didn't want to arrive sweaty and panting, so it took them closer to twenty-five to arrive. Once there, Blair stood in the center of the small hollow and turned in a complete circle, a small, strange smile on his lips. "Just like I've always imagined."
"Imagined?" Jim prompted, not at all sure that he'd get an answer, his lover was acting so weirdly, even for Blair.
Facing him, but not coming any closer, Blair said fiercely, "We've been doing things your way, trying to satisfy an obsession you've obviously had a long, long time." He waved away Jim's instant apology before it was aired. "And I haven't minded a bit, though I went into it believing that, aside from making you happy and getting a couple of good climaxes, that it wasn't going to be anything special. I was wrong."
Half-turning, hand in his hair, Blair hesitated, then went on. "Having a living sex toy sounded kind of boring, like a dildo is, since all it does it what you make it do. But you don't just wait for me to do stuff; you react, you respond, you invite – ah, fuck, what I'm trying to say is that I've gotten a major charge out of it all, and want to do it again any time we can."
Leaning heavily against a boulder protruding from the side of one slope, Jim gasped, then bent over, sure that he wasn't going to be able to stop from coming in his pants. When he could look back up, Blair was standing in front of him, clutching at himself roughly enough that Jim knew he had the same problem.
Despite his obvious discomfort, Blair said in an amazingly conversational tone, "So I've been thinking that if sharing what you need has been so good for us, maybe sharing what *I* need would be a good idea, too."
"Yes."
"Jim, you don't even...."
"Yes. Whatever it is, yes."
"God," Blair muttered, taking Jim's head between his hands. He dove in for a kiss, first just touching his lips gently to Jim's to say 'I love you,' but he couldn't keep it from turning ragged and deep very quickly.
Tearing his mouth away, he leaned his forehead against Jim's, then whispered, "Pose for me. Like I was a photographer and you're my model for a gay pin-up poster."
Blair's scent was a mixture of fear and lust, telling Jim clearly that there was something very serious going on behind the request. Privately resolving that he would learn what that was, sooner or later, he asked, "How exactly do you me to do it?"
"Whatever you're comfortable with, just not... raunchy, like you find in the porn mags. More provocative, like you'd see in a good photographer's portfolio." Backing away, Blair all but hid in the shadow of a huge pine tree, rubbing his hands down his thighs nervously, but never taking his eyes off Jim.
Considering the instructions that Blair had given him, Jim studied the forest floor, mind racing. The idea of deliberately putting himself on display sat awkwardly in the back of his mind, but he wasn't ashamed of his body or bothered usually when someone caught an eyeful. Trying to guess what would please Blair, he nonchalantly undid the buttons on his shirt, letting the sides gape open enough to reveal his part of his chest and belly, but not his nipples. Then he tilted his head back as if he were going to catch a few rays, hands braced behind him on the boulder, and thought about what to do next.
Hearing a soft sigh of excitement and pleasure from where Blair was hiding, Jim stopped an unanticipated smile of pure male smugness, beginning to enjoy posing for his lover. Casually standing, as if getting too warm, he undid the top button and zip on his jeans, letting them sag enough that his hard-on could almost be seen in the shadow of the fabric's fold. Putting his hand on his stomach, he let his fingers curve down, just a little, as if he were about to pet himself inside his clothes. He held his position for a slow count of ten, heard the soft hiss of a zipper from Blair's part of the glade, then shifted again, as much to hide the grin that he wasn't sure he could stop, this time.
Letting his pants droop even more, he turned and put one foot on the boulder, then bent to take off his boot, taking his time with the laces because Blair seemed to really like seeing the curve of his backside peeking out from under the hem of his shirt. Blair's heartbeat was racing, as was his breathing, and Jim was willing to believe that he could actually feel his gaze roaming over him possessively. It was sexy and arousing, knowing that he could affect his lover so easily, not that either of them really had any problem with that at the moment, and he had to take a few deep breaths himself before he could move on to the next pose.
Barefoot, he spread the blanket on the slope facing the ocean, and stretched out on it on his back, arms over his head, hands open and relaxed. His shirt fell to either side, showing off his nipples with their tight clamps making them stand out as if begging, and the crown of his dick peeked out through the gap of the opened zipper. He had no doubt that Blair enjoyed the new view, to judge by the softly spoken words beginning to bubble out of him, and after a moment, Jim moved again. Arching his back to make his nipples more obvious, he pushed his jeans down to thighs, but fig-leafed himself with a raised knee, so that his lover didn't get more than a glimpse of balls and cock.
That was apparently more than Blair could take. Mumbling fragments of endearments and praise, he ran to Jim and knelt over him, shoving his cock into Jim's mouth the moment he could. Eagerly Jim swallowed it whole, and just in time; he had barely encircled it with his lips when Blair came, pouring scalding bitterness down his throat. Drinking it down ravenously, he slid his arms up his lover's back, initially to hold him close, then to support him as Blair sagged.
Reluctantly releasing Blair's cock, Jim lowered him to the ground, laying him on his back, fingers smoothing his curls away from his face. Much sooner than Jim would have expected, Blair recovered enough to order unsteadily, "Kneel over my head, knees at my shoulders, so we can sixty-nine." Hurriedly Jim did as told, but before he could bend over Blair to taste his already firming erection, Blair said, "Stay like that a moment; I want to look and touch."
The awkwardness stirred again, but Jim stifled it and froze in place. Tentative fingers meandered over the vulnerable flesh between his legs, tickling the short, wiry hairs on his balls, giving the butt plug a single, gentle push, and exploring the cockring as if unfamiliar with it all. Just as he began to want more from that tremulous touch, Blair said, "I want to suck you now, okay?"
Instantly Jim went to all fours, planting his hands on either side of Blair's hips, but before he could take him into his mouth, Blair ran his tongue over the head of Jim's dick, undoing the first of ring of the restraint under it as he did. Pain and pleasure struggled sluggishly for control of Jim's nerves, effectively canceling each other out and leaving him longing for more of Blair's oral caresses. A sharp jab from the shaft under his chin reminded him of what he was supposed to be doing, and he hastily turned his attention back toward satisfying his lover.
While Jim absently noticed that the welt left by the ring was sore, Blair's loving administrations to his cock were enough that within minutes Jim was in danger of coming, whether he wanted to or not. Nor did it help that he loved the taste and feel of the cock using him, relishing the erratic fucking that told him his lover was as close as he was. Then Blair undid the second ring, and that hurt far more than the first had, but not so much that Jim lost a single beat up and down on the rod filling his throat. Ignoring the residual discomfort, he worked harder at bringing his mate off, but then Blair undid the last ring, freeing his cock completely.
Yanking his head up, Jim locked his jaw over a shout of pain, not sure that he was going to be able to overcome the agony in his dick as circulation returned completely to long restricted tissues. All the patient, devoted laving and suckling Blair bestowed on the abused hard-on rapidly eased the tender column, though, and he started to go back to satisfying his lover. Before he could, Blair slipped out the plug that Jim had held inside for so long, quickly replacing it with two fingers. He drove them in all the way to the knuckle at the same time he deep-throated Jim's cock, swallowing to delicately massage the head.
Climax crashed into Jim, slamming his seed out of him in spurt after powerful spurt, each blast of pleasure stronger than the last. Finally, unable to so much as whimper at the incredible relief, he was ground away into indescribable ecstasy, knowing nothing but its all-encompassing embrace.
When he became aware of himself again, the first part of his body that reported in was his ass; Blair was hammering away at it, grunting and groaning deliriously at each stroke. His sore and aching dick was next; it was very happily cuddled into something cushiony and fleecy, providing a wonderful surface to be shoved into. The rest of him chimed in, informing him urgently that he needed to come again, and that if he wanted a chance to do it while being fucked, now might be a good time to start working for it.
He began answering Blair's thrusts, at first with small lifts of his hips, but soon he was on all fours again, rearing back violently with each of Blair's lunges into him. They fucked insanely fast and hard, using all their strength, but it wasn't enough to let either of them climax again so soon.
Aware of that on some level, beginning to sense that they might do a damage to each other, Jim desperately dragged a hand over his chest, dislodging the nipple clamps in a fast sweep. Agony spiked through his pleasure, making him tighten compulsively around the cock inside him, and that finally sent Blair over the edge. Howling, he rammed in extra deep, emptied his seed into him with a surge of soothing heat.
That was the trigger Jim needed. Everything in him came to a complete stand-still, unable to function under the impact of his release, and he had a short eternity to contemplate how complete and utterly he was consumed by it before dropping into unconsciousness.
He woke from a natural sleep, some hours later to judge by the angle of the sunshine, with Blair sprawled over his back, snoring softly into his back, between his shoulder blades. Blair's cock was snuggled damply against Jim's pucker, and he had worked a hand under Jim's shoulder to latch onto one arm. Not willing to disturb him, feeling ridiculously sated and comfortable, Jim idly watched a single sunbeam creep toward his face, simply enjoying how good he felt.
In fact, he didn't just feel good; he felt safe. All his adult life, the only time he'd felt safe had been when in the dark, because for him, bad things had always happened while it was light. Yet here he was, in broad daylight, half-naked, come spattered, vulnerable to anybody who happened to come by, and yet he felt *safe.* And light, as if some weight that he had never known he carried was suddenly gone.
Smiling at the silly notion of tethering himself to Blair to keep from floating away, Jim pillowed his head on his crossed arms, content to wait until his mate woke up to share this, and all the rest of, his sunlit days.
finis