BY: Lyn

DISCLAIMER: Not mine, but I can dream.


CATEGORY: PWP with a little bit of plot.

SUMMARY: New Year's Eve, Blair's home alone.


Well, this had to take the cake as the lousiest New Year he'd ever had, Blair thought as he entered the silent apartment. Tossing his jacket at the hook behind the door, he watched disinterestedly as it missed by a mile and fell to the floor.

Leaving it where it was, he loped into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, scanning the contents listlessly. A bottle of expensive champagne sat alone on the top shelf, reminding Blair of just how lonely he was tonight, and he shut the door with probably more force than necessary. He'd bought the wine two weeks ago with the proceeds from a magazine article he'd had published. Thrilled to be able to afford just once to really celebrate the New Year with his partner and more recently, lover, Blair had carefully hidden the bottle away and then placed it in the refrigerator to chill a few days before.

Then all his plans for a romantic evening had flown out the door. Jim had been asked to accompany a prisoner to Seattle. Blair had been desperate to go with him, memories of their last extradition on a night train still graphic in his mind, but he had a class he had to teach and given his previous absences from school, knew the Chancellor would frown upon him missing another day. It was a milk run, Jim reassured him with a kiss, but Blair wasn't convinced. After three years of backing Jim up, and guiding him through the use of his heightened senses, Blair was convinced only something bad could come of Jim going solo.

It hadn't. Blair had spoken to Jim that morning and his lover assured him that the transport had gone without a hitch. Blair had smiled and looked forward to seeing Jim walk through the door in just a few short hours. They'd planned to celebrate the New Year at Simon's place then Blair had some extra-special, very erotic tests in mind for Jim's senses. Jim shot him down in flames. He was unable to get a ride home until the following afternoon. Storms had come in, making driving hazardous. Rightly guessing Blair's disappointment, he'd suggested hiring a car and making the trip anyway, but Blair had vociferously vetoed that idea.

"Go to Simon's anyway," Jim said. "No use both of us being alone."

"I won't be good company," Blair said miserably. "I'll just stay home, do some research, watch TV."

Jim however, had an ace up his sleeve, in the guise of Captain Simon Banks. Simon phoned Blair and ordered him gruffly to be at his house at seven or else. Deciding he'd probably go nuts, sitting at home watching the paint peel, Blair complied.

He was right. He was miserable, despite everyone's best efforts to cheer him up. He picked desultorily at the vast array of food laid out and succeeded only in making everyone feel as lousy as he did. He finally begged off staying to watch the fireworks, giving Simon his best hangdog expression. Truth be told, the captain was probably relieved to see the back of him. He left, after being showered with numerous kisses from an amorous Megan who still didn't seem to get that he and Jim were an item now, and a spectacular if sloppy smooch, and a very slurred, barely understandable, "Love ya, man," from a very inebriated Brian Rafe. Blair managed a grin at that; he'd have to file it away for further tormenting possibilities.

Now he was standing in the middle of their empty apartment. Glancing at the clock, he sighed and headed for the bathroom. He might as well turn in, he decided. With any luck, by the time he woke up, Jim would at least be on his way home.


Climbing into the tub, Blair took a moment to savor the warm spray as it soaked his hair and cascaded over his body, relieving some of the nagging tension from his neck and back muscles. He lathered up and began to wash, the glide of his hand over his pierced nipple causing a small shiver of pleasure. Skating his hand lower, Blair closed his eyes and leaned back against the bathroom tiles, letting his fingers skim along his cock, then encircling it and pumping gently and slowly.

He sighed. Nothing. Not even his normally unflagging erection thought this was anything worth getting excited about. "Fuck New Year!" he muttered darkly.

"Now, Chief, it's not like you to be hung up over New Year."

"Yeah, well, you're not the one stuck here alone on New Year's Eve when your lover's-" Blair stopped, eyes opening wide, his hand shifting from his cock to pull back the shower curtain. "Jim?" he squeaked.

Jim stood before him, a satisfied gotcha grin upturning his mouth, gloriously naked, erection jutting up at full attention. Blair's cock woke up, deciding that this was something definitely worth getting excited about.

"But you're… How did you…" Blair closed his mouth obediently when Jim pressed a finger to his lips, then climbed in to stand in front of him. "I've got much better uses for that mouth, Sandburg," he said and took Blair's mouth in a bruising, deep kiss that had Blair gasping for breath.

Before Blair could regain his senses, Jim knelt and took Blair's erection in hand, ghosting along it, his fingers barely touching the sensitive flesh. He lowered his head and licked at the head then sucked it into his mouth. Blair arched his back and moaned, one hand reaching out to grip Jim's head, allowing him to speed up the action as he pumped himself in and out of Jim's mouth. Blair shifted, spreading his legs as Jim's other hand caressed first his balls, then crept further to stroke over his perineum, then trail over his hole.

"Oh, jesus," Blair panted, as Jim's teeth lightly grazed his shaft then his tongue soothed in swirling patterns along it, shifting up to dip into the slit on the glans, then sucked it into the warm wetness of his mouth. It felt like Jim was attempting to suck his lover's brain out through his cock, and judging by the way that Blair couldn't seem to string a sentence together, but could only moan and mutter, he was doing a damn fine job of it. Blair couldn't remain still, despite wanting to savor every sensation on his cock. He rocked forward onto his toes, desperate to shove his aching hardness further into the mouth that was torturing him with pleasure. He moaned in disappointment as Jim released his cock with a slurp and stood.

"Turn around," Jim ordered softly.

Blair obeyed with alacrity as Jim reached for the shower gel. Cool slickness coated his hole and a finger slipped inside. Blair pushed back against it, sending it deeper and spread his legs to accommodate when a second digit joined the first. The tips of Jim's fingers brushed over his prostate and Blair shuddered. He lowered one hand to his own cock as Jim pushed inside him.

The first thrust pushed Blair against the tiles and he lowered his head to rest against the hand splayed against the wall in front, spreading his legs further, canting his hips up and pushing his ass back. Jim took the hint and began to thrust almost roughly, one hand now reaching around to cover Blair's own, the other grasping Blair's shoulder to pull him back against him. Blair didn't want it to end. He loved the sensation of being filled, loved the feel of Jim thrusting into him. He couldn't last though. A particularly well-aimed stroke scorched fire through his insides and he shouted as he came, feeling the warmth from Jim's orgasm flooding his ass.

Jim collapsed onto the floor of the tub, pulling Blair with him, and positioned the sated younger man between his legs, Blair's back resting against his chest. Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to his lover's curly head.

"Welcome home," Blair whispered, bestowing a kiss to the arm that encircled him then turning and kneeling up so he could drink in the handsome face of the man he adored.

"Happy New Year," Jim replied.

And it was.