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The characters of The Sentinel are the property of Petfly and Paramount. This story was written for my own and others' enjoyment. No money has been paid and no copyright infringement is intended.
"I'm gonna make you a little Blair-skin rug." With those words, Jim reached out and pulled Blair against him, one hand reaching up to twist into the long curls, the other holding the younger man tightly against him. Blair reached around Jim's broad back to steady himself. He felt his arousal flare as their bodies brushed each other, heat blossoming in his groin to match the blush he could already feel warming his face.
"Come on, man. Knock it off." Blair twisted harder in an effort to escape and Jim seemed to suddenly become aware of his discomfiture, pulling back at the same time as Blair squirmed away. The struggle caused Blair's hair to become entangled in Jim's watch band and he yanked his head forcefully away, grimacing at the sharp pain that brought tears to his eyes.
"Shit. Oh, Jesus, Sandburg. I'm sorry. Are you okay?" Jim was holding his arm up and looking with chagrin at the strands of dark hair that dangled from his watch buckle.
Blair had stepped behind the desk now, one hand rubbing absently at his head while the other reached down and fumbled for his backpack. He nodded as he hefted the bag and slung it onto his shoulder. "It's fine, Jim. It's just hair. Not like I don't have plenty." The voice joked but the eyes blazed pain and embarrassment.
Jim smiled. "Is that a dig at my expense, Sandburg?"
Blair shrugged his shoulders and grinned back mirthlessly. "You take it any way you want, man." He turned to the suddenly silent group. "Simon, it's good to see you out of hospital." Picking up the wallet from the desk, he hefted it experimentally in his hand, then flipped it open to the gold shield once more. He opened his eyes, not realizing he'd closed them and smiled. "Can I take some time to think about your offer?"
The captain looked puzzled. "I thought...I thought it was what you wanted, Sandburg. Jim said..."
"Nobody asked me," Blair cut in. He softened his tone. "It's not that I don't appreciate the offer and I'm not refusing it outright. I just need some time to think things over. I just finished cleaning out my office at Rainier. I hadn't really given any thought to what I do now."
"Blair? I'm sorry." Jim's voice now, the words soft but the tone faintly accusing. "I'm sorry, I probably overstepped the mark here. I just assumed that you wanted to stay on as my partner and Simon couldn't see any other way to do it."
Blair held up a hand to stem the flow of words as he came around from behind the desk and backed toward the door. "I'm going to get out of here, all right? I've got to get my stuff from the U unpacked and...think about things."
"Blair?" Naomi stood up and stepped toward him and Blair felt suddenly dizzy. He'd forgotten she was there. "We were going to go out and celebrate." One elegant hand waved to encompass the others.
"Tino's," Simon put in helpfully.
Blair nodded slowly, then shook his head. "I'll take a rain check, if you don't mind. You guys go, celebrate Simon and Megan being okay, getting Zeller."
His mother gathered up her bag. "I'll give you a ride home, sweetie."
Three voices spoke the word in unison and the owner of each rushed to explain.
"I need some time out, mom."
"Ms. Sandburg." Simon wheeled himself closer and looked up at Naomi. "I'd be honored to have you join us." A muffled snicker followed the statement and Simon's icy glare was directed at Henri who had the grace to look abashed.
"I'm heading home anyway," Jim said, turning to Blair. "My leg's aching a little."
"I can walk or catch the bus."
"Or you could get a ride, seeing we're both headed in the same direction."
Blair nodded, then leaned forward to kiss his mother's cheek. "Thank you. All of you. Your support means a lot to me."
The front door shutting behind them sounded as loud as he imagined a cell door would and Blair leaned his back against it suddenly exhausted. Jim turned on his way into the kitchen and watched him for a moment.
"You all right?"
"You want a beer?"
"No, thanks." Blair watched Jim limp into the kitchen and retrieve a beer from the fridge, twisting the cap off and tossing it onto the counter as he returned to the living room. He took a long swig from the bottle, then held it out to Blair, who accepted it and took a couple of swallows before handing it back. He still hadn't moved from the front door.
"What are you afraid of, Sandburg?"
"I don't know what you mean."
"Sure you do," Jim said amiably, coming closer and offering the bottle again.
Blair shook his head and straightened up against the door. Jim seemed to sense the tension in his partner and perversely, stepped closer.
"Are you afraid you can't cut it as a cop? Because you and I both know you're already three quarters of the way there. I wasn't bullshitting in the hospital when I told you you're the best cop I've ever known. I know it's not because you don't want to cut your hair. I never bought that crap from day one. You're too dedicated, too focused to allow something as inconsequential as that to stop you from getting what you want. So, what's holding you back? What do you want, Sandburg?"
He was looming over Blair now; his face so close that Blair could smell the beer on his breath. Blair pushed back but there was nowhere to go. "I don't know what I want," Blair whispered.
"Sure you do. Tell me what you want."
Blair's hands came up to push ineffectually at Jim's chest. "I said I don't know."
The detective pressed closer. Blair could feel Jim's erection pressing into his hip and he gasped at the heat of it. "What do you want?"
"You. I want you." Blair's reply was a strangled half-sob, but Jim smiled and tilted Blair's head up toward him with one finger under his chin, pressing a kiss to Blair's lips. The gesture seemed to open the floodgates and Blair opened his mouth with a small cry, sucking Jim's tongue into his mouth, while his hands scrabbled frantically to tear Jim's shirt from his shoulders.
Blair heard the popping buttons and tearing cloth distantly and then Jim's chest was gloriously bare and he ran his palms hungrily over the broad, muscled expanse, feeling nipples peak and harden beneath his touch. He pushed his groin forward and humped himself frantically against Jim's hip as his hands wandered, mapping Jim's physique, learning the beautiful body pressed against his. Then Jim's hand snaked between them, pulling down his zipper and he felt a shiver as his cock sprang free of its confines, its heat startling in the coolness of the apartment.
Jim pulled away from Blair's mouth and lowered his lips to Blair's neck, sucking and licking there as he fisted Blair's weeping erection and stroked forcefully. Blair moaned softly and then began to push up into the callused hand and Jim stilled his strokes, allowing Blair to fuck his fist, knowing that the young man needed this release. Jim held on tightly, dialing up every sense to taste, smell, hear and feel Blair's need for him as the other man bucked beneath his hand, his breath catching now as he froze for a moment. Then his cock was spasming rapidly; hot fluid gushing over the sentinel's hand as Blair sobbed out Jim's name.
Blair shuddered violently, as he came, and then he was crying, huge heaving silent sobs with tears that streamed in rivers down his cheeks to drip off his chin and snake down the length of his neck. His knees buckled beneath him and he slid slowly down the door to the floor, Jim following him down until he knelt, hovering protectively over his lover.
Jim leaned in and licked at the moisture that had pooled in the indentation at the base of Blair's throat, tasting salt; Blair's tears, Blair's despair, Blair's pain. He grasped Blair's forearms and hauled him toward himself, allowing the other man to flop bonelessly forward, his body folding in on itself, Blair's head dropping to burrow into the juncture of Jim's neck and shoulder. The detective snaked an arm around Blair's shoulders, reaching his other hand up to cup the curly-headed skull, pulling Blair into the shelter of his embrace. His strong fingers massaged through the damp curls, the heat of Blair's skin burning his fingertips.
"I can't do this. If anyone found out, they'd split us up." Blair's voice was muffled; the words mere puffs of warm air-sentinel soft. "But I can't stay here if I can't have you."
Jim cupped Blair's face in both hands, his thumbs brushing away the remnants of tears from Blair's cheeks. Jim scooted closer, dropping his butt to the hardwood floor and pulling the other man into the vee between his legs, his still hard erection pressing into Blair's bony hip. "I'll fix it," he whispered. "I'll fix it."
-October 21st, 2001.
End Choices by Lyn: email@example.com
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