Routine is a two-edged sword for a solider, or a cop, but most especially for a sentinel. Routine allows a warrior to function when under extreme duress, providing a framework for the current plan - or lack thereof. But it is also a weakness that can be exploited by an enemy, telling them where their potential victim was and what he was doing at any given time.
So Jim made a point of not letting any one habit become too entrenched, or any one custom solidify into tradition, though it was contrary to his need to have a well-organized life. Of course, any chance of order had pretty much gone out the window when Sandburg moved in, anyway. He'd tried to keep some control over things despite that, but mentally threw up his hands and surrendered the day they became lovers.
In his usual contrary style, though, it had been Blair who had created their Sunday morning routine, though Jim doubted seriously that had been intentional on his partner's part. It had started with a spontaneous visit to a bakery one Sunday morning after an all-nighter that had evolved into a debate over not only which bakery in Cascade had the best bagels, but what the best topping for one was. Over the next few weekends they had taken turns picking bagels up and providing the fixings, and eventually, like so many other things about their partnership, had found a bakery that both liked, but always kept a wide variety of things on hand for toppings. Trust Sandburg to find a way to create chaos even when establishing a tradition.
Now, by unquestioned habit, whoever got up first on most normal Sundays - as often as not it was Jim unless his partner had simply been up all night long - went to get the paper and the bagels, then the other set everything up on the coffee table. That was in clear defiance of house rule number seventy-six, but the sentinel found it hard to bitch about the infraction when his taste buds were in heaven, his stomach was pleasantly full, and his soul was content with the peace and happiness he found in those precious mornings. The last wasn't because of the food, of course, but because of the rumpled, love-marked, gorgeous man that sat cross-legged on the floor across from him, reading the comics that he appropriated first, like he always did.
Peeking at Blair from over the top of the sports page, Jim, smiled to himself, then snagged a bit of sesame bagel, smeared it with chive cream cheese spread (lowfat since his partner bought it), and popped it in his mouth. It was tasty; not as delicious as his lover, but it would do. Chewing thoughtfully, he tried to read about the new center being drafted by the Jags owner, but kept dipping the edge of the paper enough to be able to admire Blair.
They had the blinds up on the French doors to the balcony, and rare for Cascade early-morning sunshine was pouring into the room, making it robe-and-bare-foot comfortable for his lover. To Jim's eyes, the rays were almost living things themselves, playing teasingly around the beauty that was Blair, turning his curls into a radiant crown of delicate filigree, and warming his skin into a lush invitation for touch. The total effect was warming Jim, too, though in a different way: he stretched his legs out along the couch, grateful for the concealing folds of the soft sweats he wore.
Blair caught him at it, but instead of the knowing smirk Jim expected, his lover said reverently, happily, "I just fucking love you." Then he clambered over the table and onto Jim, pushing away the newspaper so he could wrap his arms around his neck and straddle his lap.
Half-laughing, Jim asked, just to hear him say it again, "What?"
"I said, you asshole, that I just fuckin' love you," Blair retorted, grinning.
Despite the humor in his lover's words, Jim's own amusement faded before the joy lighting Blair's eyes, and he tenderly ran his thumb over a cheekbone, then an eyebrow. Heart full to the point of breathlessness, he drank in the emotion from his lover and greedily opened his senses to all that Blair was. Without conscious intent, he set about committing the moment to sense-memory, wanting to be able to recall it perfectly for the rest of his life. It only took him a second's concentration to lay it alongside the other treasures in his mind, but when Jim returned to the external world, his lover was no longer smiling.
Regarding him solemnly, Blair asked, "What are you doing when you phase out like that?"
"I'm *feeling,* trying to take it all in," Jim answered honestly, but dismissively, not wanting his lover to get sidetracked by the sentinel thing.
"That's not the expression you use when you're using your senses," Blair said. He added thoughtfully, "Or, not exactly."
"Expression?" he asked despite himself.
"You know, seriously pre-occupied, man." Before Jim could formulate a reply to that, his lover went back to his original observation. "Trying to take it all in.... Like memorizing?"
"Something like that," Jim admitted cautiously, already anticipating the myriad of questions he wouldn't have a clue how to answer and tests that would be uncomfortable regardless of how careful his partner was in constructing them.
Blair studied him, then said slowly, "You once remembered a phone message you didn't even consciously hear at the time – quoted it, almost. I can't even begin to imagine how much more you would get if you made an effort not to forget anything your senses were giving you."
Uneasily, Jim looked away, not sure if he wanted his very perceptive partner to realize just how detailed his memories were. He gave a last stroke to his lover's cheek, then nudged him gently to get him off his lap so they could get back to breakfast. Ignoring the hint, Blair leaned in until he was kissing close and murmured, "I like the idea. You holding onto 'us' like that."
Relaxing a little, Jim closed the rest of the distance and brushed his lips over his partner's. "Yeah?"
Returning the kiss just as teasingly, Blair answered, "Yeah." He came back for another, this one much more serious, then pulled away. "So how real are they? Can you remember how fast my heart rate was or what I'd been eating for lunch?"
"Real enough, Chief," Jim muttered, by now thoroughly distracted by the heat and scent building between them.
"Real enough for what?" Blair asked, aggravatingly sounding more curious than aroused. "Real enough to fill in for me when I'm away? So you're never really alone?"
Jim deliberately ground up into the firm bottom covering his swelling erection, and, wanting his lover to catch up, murmured, "Real enough that masturbation is not exactly a sport for one for me."
Jerking back to stare at him, Blair swallowed hard, his body's racing pulse giving away that the comment had scored a direct hit on his libido. "You remember me when you take care of yourself? Us, I mean. Uh, you use our love-making for fantasy?"
"You're better than any fantasy ever could be," Jim said, meaning every word of it.
"Show me."
"What?"
"Show me." Scooting back until he was kneeling between Jim's thighs, Blair gestured vaguely at the area between them. "Let me watch you take care of yourself while you're remembering us."
"You're not going to be able to see what's going on in my head," Jim said in surprise, fighting the urge to adjust his erection in his sweats.
"Your body will tell me. Come on, it's only fair since I'm the star attraction, anyway."
For a moment he thought about refusing or getting angry, but his lover had a point. He wasn't just the star attraction, he was the sole one, and had been almost from the time they had met. Besides, Blair, being Blair, wouldn't let it go until his curiosity was satisfied, anyway, and, in a perverse way, Jim liked the idea of performing for him. With a sigh that was a mix of resignation and reluctant anticipation, he closed his eyes.
He didn't have to think long to pick a memory to relive – the first time he had taken Blair. Not the first time they had made love; that one was practically sacred and pulled out only for special occasions. But the first time Jim had entered that lush ass was a memory guaranteed to toss him over the edge even when he wanted to draw things out.
It had been an accident almost. They had already made love once, and Jim had gone downstairs to get something to drink and tidy up. Not too much; he liked the hint of moisture and scent that came from Blair's seed seeping out of him. When he came back upstairs, his partner had been sprawled on his stomach, facing away from the stairs, one knee drawn up, revealing the beautiful curve of backside and hip. Like today, the loft had been filled with sunshine, and it had been cradling Blair in its glowing embrace, sparkling in the sweat droplets caught in the soft body hair.
It was a lure that Jim couldn't have resisted, even if he'd had the slightest reason for doing so, and he let his sense memory take over, making the moment real again for him.
Warm currents of sun-brightened air drifted over him, almost like his lover's touch, carrying not just the mix of love scent and Blair scent, but the very taste of both. They coaxed him toward the bed, towards the source, and he went willingly, body already trying to respond to the promise of pleasure in the lush form. Half-drowsing, Blair had reacted to his weight shifting the mattress with a welcoming sound, which turned into an out-and-out purr when Jim nuzzled gently at the nape of his neck.
It was the only point of contact between them, but all Jim needed for the moment. The skin there was incredibly soft, and slick from the trace of sweat, making him shiver from the image of softer, slicker flesh elsewhere. With lips and tongue, he traveled over shoulders and back, seeking those sweet spots, finding several along the way that made Blair shift restlessly or murmur, but not one that sparked new desire. Then he licked the place where spine, hips, and ass cheeks met, and his lover moaned softly, the vibrations of it teasing Jim's mouth.
Placing a gentle love-bite there, he went on exploring, but came back to that particular junction over and over, sometimes with a delicate nibble, sometimes with a hard, sucking kiss. Each time he returned, Blair made some small cry, and before long he was restlessly grinding against the sheets and pressing the downy mounds of his backside back against whatever part of Jim was closest. It was a unique sort of caress, almost as if he were being randomly stroked with velvet and satin, and Jim found himself anticipating the next involuntary lift of hips, beginning to crave the sweet sensation with an intensity that would have been frightening if he hadn't already been hopelessly snared by it.
Then sturdy fingers found his own, squeezed once, and he reluctantly looked up from his oral attentions to see Blair peering at him over his own shoulder, eyes strangely solemn. A moment later the lube was passed back to him, and he took it automatically, not immediately understanding why his lover was giving it to him. His hard-on got the message right away, though, springing to full readiness so quickly he got dizzy.
"Please?" The word sounded choked, and before Jim could turn him down, Blair added, "Right now all I want is to be as close to you as possible, and there's a part of me that says this is the best way."
"God," Jim muttered, unable to refuse the hint of pleading in the voice or the entreaty in the dark blue eyes. He stretched out over his lover to take a fast, hard kiss, covering him completely in the process. The complete lack of tension in the strong body under him went a long way toward convincing him that Blair was sure of what he wanted, as did the wild hunger in the kiss. When he was humping against the enticing bottom cradling his erection, he made himself ease back so that he was kneeling behind his lover, unsteadily uncapping the tube to slick up his fingers.
That done, he bent over Blair, again using lips to re-visit the places that had drawn pleased noises from his lover earlier. With every gentle kiss on the well-defined back, Jim probed carefully at the clenched muscle guarding the entrance to Blair's body, withdrawing his fingers as he lifted his mouth. The combined assault did as he had hoped; within minutes Blair was eagerly meeting the next touch, opening more and more with each one.
It also distracted Jim from just how *good* the yielding heat of the small portal felt. His hard-on bounced against his stomach, thrumming with its demands to get that incredible place wrapped around it, not that he wasn't use to making it wait. In his opinion, foreplay was one of the best things about sex.
And in this case, his practice of holding back was paid off. When Blair seemed close to climaxing, Jim replaced fingers with cock, holding still so his lover could rock back onto it. Blair moaned in what sounded like equal parts surprise and pleasure, but didn't complain or stop the steady progress of taking Jim into himself. It took all of his will power to let his lover move at his own pace, but Jim doggedly locked his elbows, and met the cautious thrusts with minute ones of his own, until he was completely sheathed in the most incredible tightness he'd ever imagined existed.
Blair groaned quietly, then whispered, "God, Jim.... in me, part of me...."
The channel surrounding the hardest part of Jim *flexed,* shimmying over his length, and it was suddenly, shockingly more than he could stand. With a roar that shook him as much as the first powerful surge of his seed, he came, lunging deeply into the welcoming body that more than met him halfway.
For the most wonderfully vague time there was nothing but that connection and the waves of pleasure fueling it, then he soaked back into his own awareness, listening in guilty relief as Blair shouted through his release. The waves from his lover's climax did interesting things to where they were still joined, and Jim sagged against Blair's sweaty back, smiling at the way his partner always managed to make the best out of Jim's mistakes.
Then Blair whispered, "Wow... you lost it! Totally lost it – because of me! Because of being inside me!"
The glee and happiness in that burrowed its way into Jim's soul, joyfully taking up residence, and it was that moment he cherished most. That smug declaration always, always finished him off when he pulled out the memory of that first time, and he dug his heels into the couch cushions, abruptly back in the here and now, his finish spurting into his sweats.
When he could think, he opened his eyes, half-afraid of the expression he would see on Blair's face, but the moment he did, his lover moaned desperately and scrambled up to straddle Jim's chest. "You didn't even have to touch yourself," he muttered, offering his seeping erection for sucking. "You came just from thinking about... fuck!"
Jim took the furiously hard length into his mouth, hardly locking his lips around it before Blair lost it and spilled. Hastily swallowing, he cupped his lover's backside to steady him through his release, then used the grip to guide him down gently when his strength gave up. Blair wound up with his head nestled on Jim's shoulder, the rest of him sprawled loosely over the bigger man. His opened robe draped over Jim, locking Blair's scent and warmth against his skin, and the sentinel simply lay under the cherished weight, like always, relishing the feel of his lover.
A drift of breeze carried a reminder of their interrupted breakfast, and Jim stretched out a hand to grab a bite of onion bagel topped with lox spread. Chewing thoughtfully, he picked up a piece of a whole wheat one that had peanut butter and strawberry preserves – one of Blair's favorite combinations. He waved it under his partner's nose, then had the tidbit snatched off his fingertips, sharp teeth grazing the skin.
When it was swallowed, Blair asked thoughtfully, "I'm the only lover you remember like that?"
"You're the only one I *want* to remember like that, Chief," Jim answered flatly.
"Cool." Blair voice was filled with smug satisfaction, which was exactly what Jim had wanted to hear.
For a reward, he picked up another pbj bagel, but held it just out of reach, grinning when Blair stretched up like a baby bird to snap it up. Then he settled back, chewing happily, obviously waiting for Jim to feed him another. Crumbs were falling everywhere, getting into his shirt and the crevasses of the couch, but Jim didn't care. Reminding himself to vacuum after they were done to spare himself from the smell of the fragments decaying, Jim happily accepted this new twist to their Sunday routine. After all, some habits were worth keeping.
finis