Distractions Part 2

DISTRACTIONS

(c) Dec 2004 by Charlotte Frost

PART TWO

As he and Blair settled in for the night, Jim ended up with his head again on Blair's chest. He tried to fall asleep but could only manage an occasional doze. In the quiet of the night, and Blair's own light breathing, he absorbed the sounds and smells - and occasional tastes as he pressed his lips against Blair's flesh, feeling the tickle of hairs.

Jim listened to his own heartbeat accelerate. In the stillness, he was all the more aware of his uniqueness - a freakish nature that he'd never asked for. It was painful to think that he could never be normal. For a moment, he fantasized about his senses up and disappearing. There were moments when he'd be sorry - especially in dangerous situations - but that seemed such a small price to pay for a life in which he could be like anybody else.

As though standing outside himself, he watched fear overtake him. If it weren't for Blair, where would he be? What would have happened to him?

He wanted to crush Blair to him as a lifeline. He wanted to get on his knees and humble himself before some unseen god and express his gratitude that Blair was younger than he was, and should therefore live at least as long as he would.

Most of all, he didn't want to need Blair.

He wanted to love Blair because he loved him. He wanted to make love to him because it would feel good and allow them both to experience an intimacy that neither had experienced before.

He didn't want the two of them to be together only because Blair was the one person on Earth who could have him.

His throat tightened. Damn these senses.

He inhaled, focusing on the scent in the air from Blair's crotch.

Would he really want to miss the richness of that odor?

It didn't matter. He was stuck with his abilities whether he wanted them or not. He knew he had to learn acceptance... all over again. Every time it seemed like he'd reached a peace with his senses, something would come along - including their temporary disappearance - and it would remind him all over again how different he was.

The eye next to Blair's skin blinked away the wetness of a tear.

"Jim?"

"I'm okay," he whispered, fighting the instinct to act like he had something in his eye.

"Are you afraid?"

Answering would leave him so naked and exposed. He swallowed. "Yes."

Blair's fingers stroked along the back of his neck. "Because it's us? Or because of your senses?"

Because of everything.

He didn't want to define what that was. Instead, he hoisted himself up on his elbows, got a glimpse of Blair's wide eyes in the darkness, and then closed his own and lowered his head.

So warm it was, this meeting of their lips. Soft and plush. As though he could fall into them.

That's what it felt like was happening as his body became fuzzy around the edges. His erection brushed against Blair's skin and the instinct was there to dial back the flush of sensation.

This is Blair.

He didn't have to do that, didn't have to deny himself.

He was aware of Blair's own cock poking against his skin.

Then Blair's hand was on his....

Jim threw his head back and groaned. He needed to be careful of the depth of that noise - so he didn't frighten his bedmate - but just as the thought reached his mind he remembered this was Blair and took his first steps toward freedom and let himself be vocal.

He wasn't sure what kind of noise one would call it, but he heard himself make it again as he thrust back and forth within Blair's gripping hand - no, two hands now.

He let the sensations overtake him, wash through him....

He cried out from deep within his chest, the harsh air against his throat leaving it raw.

His eyes squeezed shut as his body quivered all over, and the feeling of the fluid shooting through his cock was unlike anything he'd experienced before.

He gasped for air, aware of Blair squeezing his bicep repeatedly. To keep me from zoning.

Zoning on orgasm wouldn't be such a bad thing.

It took a long time for the sensation to leave him, even as he was coming back to himself and becoming aware of his surroundings.

Blair's squeezing eased up. His hand had left Jim's cock and Jim felt it shrivel.

He released another breath and collapsed to one side, ending up partially on top of Blair.

Blair stroked his hair. Kissed his cheek, his nose... planted a quick kiss on his lips.

Blair's other hand squeezed his rear. Then both hands moved, sliding all along his back and sides.

He loves me so much.

Jim closed his eyes. He was very still, trying to find Blair's erection against him. He couldn't feel it and wondered if it had softened or if it was the way they were lying together.

Blair whispered, "Is it always like that?"

Jim fought to keep the self-pity out of his voice. "It's never been like that."

A pause. "Because you've never let yourself go?"

"No. Not like that." He then realized that Blair's questions were open-minded and not merely validating information. "You-you didn't know?" He wondered if he were being fair to expect Blair to know everything about his sentinel abilities.

Blair hugged him closer. "It hadn't occurred to me... that it would be so hard for you. I don't know why it didn't."

It was difficult to feel disappointed when he otherwise felt so good. "I guess I never really told you."

"Not until whatsherface a couple of weeks ago."

"Sometimes I expect you to know too much."

"Maybe so. At least the solution is easy enough - just keep the lines of communication open between us." He sounded a touch hesitant.

"All right," Jim said, speaking a little louder. "How about I want to pleasure you right now?" How would Blair's cock feel? How would it taste?

Blair's hand was on the back of his neck again, his thumb rubbing. "Do you mind if I just want to lie here like this the rest of the night? I feel I'm in heaven and I'd like to enjoy it for as long as I can."

He could do that. "There's just one thing." He started to shift.

They ended up where they had before, Blair's head on Jim's chest.

"That's better," Jim said, drifting.

"I love you, Jim."

Jim swallowed and held Blair closer.

It struck him that there was something beautiful about him and Blair lying naked together and sinking into sleep.

Blair wasn't sure he actually slept. Some part of him seemed to be aware of the crawling hours and that Jim was in his bed.

Yet, he must have fallen asleep at some point, because he came to consciousness with pleasure spreading from the center of his body.

He shifted his legs wider and made a point of not opening his eyes, for fear of spoiling what was happening.

The grip tightened and he groaned. Oh, man.

The mattress creaked as Jim's weight shifted. Jim's scent came near and then a heavy breath was at Blair's ear.

"Keep your eyes closed," Jim whispered. "Stroke yourself."

Huh? Blair throbbed when the hand left him. He mumbled, "You were doing fine."

Air blew in his ear, stronger this time. "Stroke yourself."

Blair quivered and reached for his frustrated shaft.

"Keep your eyes closed," Jim repeated. "I want to learn from watching you do it."

Oh, man.

Blair started stroking. He wasn't sure what fantasy to use, but perhaps none was necessary because just being here with Jim was enough of a turn-on.

He deliberately slowed his motion, since Jim was apparently watching. What do his senses see that I can't? He tightened his grip just as he reached the head, and then pulled up and off. His hand went right back to his lower shaft to repeat the upward motion.

Though he felt self-conscious, his other hand went to his sac and gripped it. He rolled the ovals within his palm, always finding satisfaction in feeling their unique texture.

Moisture pooled at the tip of his cock. He panted, feeling the sensations between his legs grow more intense.

He paused a moment to listen, even as he continued stroking, and there was only silence.

He imagined Jim watching him with intense, smoldering eyes.

YES!

Blair arched into a final thrust and cried out as his semen found freedom from his body.

He sunk into the spurting sensation, cataloging the melting of his loins as his body began to relax, nerve by nerve.

He opened his eyes.

Jim was watching him with an expression so intense that Blair almost laughed. Instead, he sighed and whispered, "Did you learn anything?"

Instead of answering, Jim lowered his lips to Blair's and pressed Blair back against the pillow with another of those breath-taking kisses.

Jim's moist erection was poking against his leg.

Blair waited until he needed a breath, then broke the kiss. He rubbed the back of Jim's neck with a thumb and met his eyes. "Bring it up here and I'll try to take care of it." He licked Jim's chin to enforce his meaning. "I don't know how good I'll be...":

Jim was already shifting, kneeling over Blair's torso. Blair rearranged the pillows behind himself so he could sit up.

Jim took a moment to rub his thumb across the tip, cleaning the initial bead of moisture and all the residue it contained. Then he let Blair take it in hand, as his own breathing increased.

Blair guided it to his mouth. He was amazed at the silky texture - and how thick it felt - as he let it fill him. He sucked, felt his tongue midway along the barrel and knew that wasn't right. He eased it back and licked until he found the ultra-sensitive place on the underside, just behind the head. He applied pressure there.

He kept shifting his tongue, until he had the suction consistently at the right place. He was aware that Jim's fingers were intertwined in his hair. Jim groaned but Blair sensed he was holding back.

Reluctantly, Blair released his prize. "Jim, man, let it happen like you did last night." He rubbed along the strong thighs.

"I'm afraid I'll choke you."

Maybe that was a real possibility. "Then let's switch so I have all the control."

Jim flattened himself against the wall, so Blair could get off the bed. Jim lay down in Blair's space, on his back, and Blair eagerly settled between Jim's spread legs.

Yes, he liked this better. He ran his tongue up and down the shaft teasingly, enjoying that baby-soft texture while listening to Jim gasp of frustration. And then he closed his mouth over the head.

He had to experiment all over again, trying to tug upwards, then backwards, while tightening his suction around that special spot. Then Jim let out a sharp gasp and Blair knew he'd hit the right combination.

He milked Jim's shaft, loving it when Jim's hands settled on the top of his head, gently stroking. The flavor coming from the leaking tip wasn't that much different from his own.

His mouth was getting tired. Thankfully, Jim was becoming more vocal. "Oh, God. Oh, dear God."

As before, he sensed Jim's habit of holding back. He used his hands to rub up and down Jim's flanks, into his ribs, trying to reassure that he wasn't afraid of the power of Jim's pleasure. Besides, that had had a soothing effect last night.

"Jesus, Blair!"

It almost sounded like a complaint, but Blair knew it wasn't. He was determined to keep at it, to bring Jim release - a sentinel-style release.

Jim whole body started to quiver. Then a long, deep groan emerged from his chest. He began yelling toward the ceiling and Blair was puzzled by the lack of anything happening in his mouth.

Then it was there... the sharp bitter tang on the back of his tongue.

Jim gasped loudly and pushed deeper into his mouth.

Blair stopped doing anything. His mouth muscles were exhausted and he wasn't sure what would be too sensitive to Jim's slowly shrinking cock.

"Dear God. Dear God." It was almost a sob.

Blair let it drop from his mouth and straightened.

Jim had his arm over his eyes and was recovering his breath.

Blair swallowed, the taste so strong that it was almost too much. To give himself something to do, he reached for the wipes beside the bed and cleaned the dried residue from his stomach.

After tossing the wipes into the trash, he lay down and made himself fit in the space between Jim and the wall. His head was just below Jim's armpit, his arm flung across his middle.

Jim removed his arm from his eyes and placed his hand between Blair's shoulder blades. He rubbed in slow circles.

How good it felt. Blair closed his eyes.

"I did okay?" Blair asked after a long time. He wished he could go back to every woman who had ever given him a blow job and tell them he'd never realized how much work it was.

Jim's hand brushed along Blair's cheek until his fingers came to his lips. It rubbed across the lower one. "I've never had it to completion since my senses came online. It felt incredible. Beyond words."

So many new things Jim could experience now, in the way a sentinel was meant to. "Do you want to fuck me?" Blair was surprised at himself - how willing he was to be fucked by Jim. .

Jim's hand settled along his cheek. "Yes. But not right now."

Jim breathed heavily like he wanted to fall asleep. Blair snuggled closer and prepared to join him.

The phone rang.

They groaned.

Blair's eyes fluttered open and he glanced at the clock. Seven-eleven. He'd known they would have to get up eventually, but he didn't have any responsibilities until one o'clock this afternoon.

He cringed with each ring. Following the third one, the answering machine picked up.

After the beep, Simon's gruff voice said, "Jim, get your butt down to 3288 Lincoln Street as soon as you get this message. Your informant's been murdered." Hesitation, then, "Call me when you're on the way."

Click.

Blair blew out a breath and snuggled closer. "Can't we pretend we never heard it?" He felt bad as soon as the words were out. How selfish he was being. And cold. The informant was dead.

Jim was already sitting up. But as he moved away, he pushed Blair down into the space vacated, on his stomach.

Jim moved the covers all the way back, and Blair felt goosebumps develop on his ass from the morning's chill.

His legs were pushed apart and Blair waited with puzzlement.

His buttcheeks were grabbed in strong hands and parted.

Blair's heart accelerated from the feeling of vulnerability that consumed him. Surely, Jim wasn't going to -

He was lifted a few inches, and then flesh was pressed against his cheeks, warm breath between them.

Then the noise of deep inhalation.

Holy shit!

He writhed and quivered from the realization that Jim was sniffing his ass.

Then he was dropped to the bed.

Jim left the room.

He'd joined Jim in the shower, gulped down a few sips of coffee and bites of a stale donut, and then they were on their way. Just before walking out the door, Jim had given him another one of those soul-deep kisses that made Blair feel as though he were going to melt into a puddle of goo.

Man, Jim was a fantastic kisser.

Now that they were on their way to the murder scene, Jim had become more his normal self, and even tossed out some possibilities as to who the killers were. He had called Simon and immediately pulled the phone away from his ear because of Simon's answering bellow. Even Blair could hear Simon's explosion, "It's about time you were on your way here!"

It didn't change the fact that Blair felt on top of the world. Even though they were headed to a murder scene, of someone he even vaguely knew, he couldn't apologize for his giddiness at what had happened between himself and Jim.

He was certain that Jim felt similarly.

It was easy to focus on the matter at hand once they arrived, since the scene, however "simple" a murder via gunshot wounds to the head, was still gruesome.

Blair's tendency to stay as far away from the victim as possible, once getting his first glimpse, changed when he saw Jim a few feet away, sniffing the air around the ground.

Blair knelt beside him and quietly asked, "What are you getting?"

"Some kind of detergent smell."

Blair put his hand on Jim's arm. "From the body?"

"No. But it's hard to separate it from the smells from the body."

Gently, Blair said, "Focus. Find the detergent smell and focus just on that." This felt good, working the way they used to work.

As he watched Jim's nostrils flair while turning his head in a circle, Blair found himself thinking of where Jim's nose had been earlier this morning.

He wondered if Jim was remembering that, too.

In fact, what if his own bodily smells were interfering with Jim's task?

"Jim, would it help if I move away?"

"Maybe. I don't know."

"Let's try it." Blair glanced up. "They're moving the body too. That should help." Blair squeezed Jim's arm again and whispered, "Just concentrate. You can do it."

Blair stepped back, fighting the feeling that he was abandoning Jim. At least the coroner's team was focused on their task and didn't seem concerned about what Detective Ellison was doing hunched down, sniffing the air. Cops did a lot of weird things to unravel murder mysteries.

Now that the crime scene was starting to break up, Simon was standing off to one side, smoking a cigar.

Blair came up beside him and smiled, his eyes still on Jim. "Jim thinks he has something. I left him alone so he can hopefully focus better." He looked up at Simon. "He's putting real effort into using his senses... like he did before."

Simon grunted, "Doesn't matter unless he can come up with something that we can use."

Blair lowered his eyes. He'd been foolish to expect any kind of enthusiasm from Simon.

He decided to change the subject and looked up at Simon again. "Hey, I'm really sorry about that screw-up with the files. I'll go through them all this morning and make sure everything is in order. It won't happen again."

Simon removed his cigar from his mouth, his eyes flaring. "You're damn right it won't happen again. One more screw-up like that and your butt is out of Major Crimes. Got that?"

Blair swallowed, feeling a blush of humility come over him. "Yes, sir." He shoved his hands in his pockets and turned to watch Jim, who was now approaching them.

"I'm getting a smell like laundry detergent, but it's strongest toward the ground."

Blair was relieved to have something else to focus on. "You mean, like maybe it was on the killer's shoes?"

Jim nodded. "Could be."

Simon asked, "How do you know it wasn't on the victim's shoes?"

"The smell didn't seem to be originating from the body. But I'll get the shoes from the coroner and double-check."

"So," Blair said, "you think maybe the killer worked at a laundromat or something?"

"That's a possibility. Or," Jim shrugged, "maybe he was doing his own laundry and stepped in spilled detergent. It's hard to say. He could even work at a detergent factory."

"You've got your work cut out for you," Simon said. "Get to it." He placed his cigar back in his mouth and turned away.

"I know where we can start," Jim said as he and Blair moved toward the truck. "Kenneth lived with his aunt. We'll break the news to her and find out if he hung out with anybody working at a laundromat or detergent factory."

Blair nodded.

Jim nudged him. "How come your face is all red?"

Blair cringed, feeling the humility once again. "Simon's still mad at me about the files."

"He has good reason to be."

They arrived at Major Crimes less than two hours later. The aunt had given them a list of Kenneth's friends and acquaintances, but she didn't know any who would have been around laundry detergent.

While Jim went to work on running down addresses and phone numbers from the list, Blair started on the stack of files that Simon had left. He went through each one to make sure all the papers within belonged to that particular file. He came across one where an old high school transcript was misplaced. He cringed, remembering how he'd pulled the transcript from its clip to copy it so Jim could use it while questioning a witness. He'd carelessly replaced it in the wrong file.

He didn't find any further errors, beyond what Simon had mentioned last night, so finished the job with a new resolve to be much more careful. With the mood Simon was in lately, he didn't doubt the captain was serious about no longer allowing him in Major Crimes if he let something like that happen again.

Jim decided that there were few things more wonderful than the ability to focus. He was making good headway on the case. The list of friends had led to an acquaintance of an acquaintance of Kenneth's who had told somebody that Kenneth might have some money to lend. The potential borrower didn't have any connection to laundry detergent, but he was said to have robbed convenience stores in the past - though had never been caught - so there was a history and motive for murder, if he had intended to rob Kenneth outright.

Unfortunately, the suspect, Merle Jones, wasn't at the address last listed for him, in a rundown apartment building. Jim waited across the street as long as he could, then called it a day.

Blair had already left early in the afternoon to put in his time with Rick Feldman's project. Jim tried not to think about Blair, because whenever he did he found his mind's eye going back to this morning... his face pressed against Blair's asscheeks, his nose buried between them, smelling the strong smell there.

He wanted to infiltrate every orifice of Blair's body... with his nose, his tongue, his fingers, his cock. Just... bury himself in Blair. Let his senses experience everything they were capable of.

The information his senses had fed him last night was more than he'd ever known before. While approaching the peak of orgasm, he'd been acutely aware of all the smells surrounding their bed, could almost taste the flavor of those smells, hear the ticking of the clock, feel the way Blair's saliva played over his cock. When his eyes were open, he could see the way the individual muscles in Blair's throat worked to pleasure him. And the sense of touch along his cock....

Shit.

He had a hard-on. He shifted awkwardly as the truck sat idling at a light.

Even more than that, he'd realized how powerful his senses could be at learning to pleasure Blair. As he'd watched Blair stroke himself, he'd seen the way his fingers circled about his cock, the way they tightened at a certain point along the upward stroke, the way Blair liked to start each stroke down at the base. With that picture burned in his mind, Jim thought he could stroke Blair as well as Blair could stroke himself.

It was after six, and Jim was eager to get home because he knew Blair should be there by then. Despite his impatience, he managed to stop by the drugstore and refused to be embarrassed by his purchases.

When he opened the door to the loft, Blair stood looking at him, as though shell-shocked.

"What's wrong?" Jim asked, leaving the sack on the table and approaching Blair.

"Simon just called. He's pissed that you haven't checked in with him."

What? "Why didn't he call me on my cell phone?"

Blair imitated a gruff voice. "'It's my detectives' responsibility to check in with me, not mine to check in with them.'"

Jim furrowed his brow as he stood before Blair. "I had nothing to report. He knew I was staking out Merle Jones. I'd normally just update him in the morning."

"Has he been treating the other detectives this way?"

Jim automatically thought back to comments he'd overheard in the bullpen. "Yeah, I think so."

"Something's wrong, Jim. Something's wrong with Simon."

That seemed a reasonable explanation. He shrugged. "Maybe he's just taking a lot of heat from upstairs."

"He always tells everyone when the heat is coming from upstairs. I'll bet anything that there's something personal going on that's eating at him."

Jim sighed. "Maybe he and Joan are fighting over Daryl or something like that."

"They've always fought over Daryl," Blair insisted. "Simon's angry about something else. Really, really angry. You can hear it in his voice. He's crying out for help."

Jim held up a hand. "Wait a minute, Chief. If he wanted our help, he knows all he has to do is ask."

"Does he? Maybe he feels it would be intruding or something."

Jim always felt uncomfortable when people pushed about emotional matters. "You ever heard that saying, 'When friends ask, there's no tomorrow?'"

"I don't think so. What's that mean?"

"It means that if somebody is your friend, they know they can tell you anything. So, if they don't tell you, it means they don't want you to know. Therefore if you ask them to tell you, you're violating their wish to keep it to themselves."

Blair sputtered, "That doesn't make sense. Sometimes people need permission from others to get things off their chest." He took a breath and looked into Jim's eyes. "If you hadn't asked me 'what's wrong" last night... well, everything that's happened between us wouldn't have happened."

Jim repeated Blair's words in his own mind. This all just started last night? He supposed it had. Though it seemed as though Blair had first kissed him a long, long time ago.

"We need to find a way to talk to him," Blair said. Then, subdued, "Actually, you need to. He won't be as comfortable around me."

Jim knew the latter fact grated on Blair. "All right, I'll see what I can do in the morning." He put his hands on Blair's shoulders and gently rubbed, feeling the desirable flesh through the layers of shirts. "You ready to think about something else?" He was eager to get his prior mood back.

Blair's eyes were gazing into his. "Uh-huh."

Jim kept his voice soft and enticing. "How about we skip dinner, jump in the shower, and I take you upstairs and have my way with you?"

Blair grinned hugely, his eyes never leaving Jim's. "Uh-huh."

Shit!

That tongue of Jim's was doing a number on his asshole.

It slowly circled... circled. Paused and probed between the wrinkles. Then it lapped widely across his center.

Jim was so patient. Like he was really enjoying spending a lot of time there.

It hadn't taken long for Blair to get over his bashfulness at having his ass thrust in Jim's face. This all felt too good.

A thick helping of saliva ran down his ass crack.

Blair shifted his legs for the twentieth time. He grabbed a pillow and held it over his head, seeking to block out as many of his senses as possible so that all he knew was what was happening to his asshole.

Jim's spit was now making its way down his balls. A warm tongue licked it away.

Blair quivered.

Kisses this time, right on his hole.

"Mmmm," Jim said.

Shit.

Jim rested his cheek against the top of Blair's rump and exhaled loudly.

A hand rested at the center of Blair's back.

Blair felt his legs give way, and he slowly sunk to the mattress, his hard-on seeking the friction there.

The hand stayed with him. Then it rubbed a wide, slow circle.

He had never felt more loved than he did right at this moment.

The hand kept moving. "My cock wants its turn."

Blair pushed the pillow away. "It can have it." What would it feel like?

The hand rubbed across his lower back now. "It's going to hurt."

As much as he hated to lose that loving hand, Blair turned over. "We have to do it facing each other. I can control you that way." He wondered if Jim had realized that when he stroked and petted him, it had a calming effect.

"You need to relax," Jim said, and then his mouth descended upon Blair's cock.

Blair thrust up shamelessly into Jim's mouth, but then gave in and stilled, because Jim's tongue was so perfectly against the magic spot behind the head. He didn't want to do anything to disrupt the pleasure coming from there.

His narrowed eyes moved from what Jim was doing to the erection that hung between his legs. That was the flesh that was going to join them.

Blair came.

He spent a long time recovering his breath afterward. He made a point of paying attention when Jim started shifting the pillows beneath him. It took a long time before his rear was built up high enough that Jim was satisfied, leaving him feeling awkward and exposed.

Jim reached to the nightstand for the new tube of lubricant. He focused on breaking the cap's seal, then his eyes met Blair's. They were smoldering with a need that matched the firmness of his erection.

Blair reached up and held his arm. "How you holding up?"

"I want to try to stretch you first."

His voice was dry, indicating that patience was a massive effort.

Blair stroked with both arms now. "You're doing fine. Take what you want."

Jim closed his eyes and drew a heavy breath, then released it slowly.

He had a glob of ointment on his fingers. He lay down alongside Blair, and partially on top of him.

Blair felt the moist finger leave its trail along his lower buttocks, follow his crack, and then find the depression. It probed a moment, not feeling near as enticing as Jim's tongue had. Then it pressed, pushed....

Ouch.

The entry was so harsh. Blair's heart raced and he tried to focus on his breath. Though the finger pushed in more, feeling increasingly uncomfortable, the pain wasn't any worse.

The fingers of Jim's other hand felt along his lips and then pushed inside his mouth.

The digits undulated from both ends, and Blair felt himself relax with the motion. It continued for some time.

He realized Jim's lower finger was fully ensheathed as the others pulled from his mouth, dripping saliva on his lower lip.

Jim's face snuggled into his neck. "I wish all of me could fit inside all of you."

Oh, yes. Blair wanted to say something in response to that but couldn't speak.

Jim rose up. "I want you to show me everything you feel."

Blair swallowed. It was automatic to give Jim whatever he wanted, but he challenged, "I will if you will."

A softening came over Jim's face and his lowered his head to kiss Blair's right nipple. Then his left. He burrowed his nose in his chest hairs and then followed it down to his belly. Then he rose up again.

He tore open a condom packet with his teeth. Those same teeth grit as he carefully rolled it over his shaft.

He took the tube of lubricant and squeezed a helping onto the head of his cock. He spread it around with a thumb and forefinger, his mouth falling open while doing so. He drew a tense breath and closed his eyes.

Blair reached for Jim's arms again. "Easy does it." This wasn't going to last long, which was probably just as well for their first time.

Jim tossed the lube aside. He took his cock in hand and Blair felt the moist bluntness probe between his asscheeks. A moment later it was at his center and pressed.

Jesus God. It hurt. More than he ever imagined it would.

The lube allowed it to happen so that he couldn't stop it.

"Oh, God," he gasped, his teeth grit. He remembered his promise and didn't allow himself to look away. Instead, he let his eyes water.

Jim was panting but had a desperate look of apology on his face.

Blair growled as the head poked in. "Oh, God. Jesus Christ." He squeezed Jim's arms in desperation.

Jim stilled a moment, his eyes closing in reverence.

Then he pushed a little more... and a little more.

The pressure was enormous. But it didn't hurt any worse than it already had.

Jim's head bowed as he let out a low groan.

Oh, yes. "Fuck me, Jim."

Jim pulled back, then lunged in deeper, rocking the bed. Now he threw his head back and cried out louder with each thrust.

Jim is fucking me. Jim is fucking me. I've got his cock inside my body.

It was surreal, his ass feeling both stimulated and numb at the same time. It was still uncomfortable, but the pain was gone.

He felt only joy at watching Jim's expression.

Jim became more vocal as he fucked. He closed his eyes and cried out loudly to the headboard.

Blair let go of his arms and watched. As Jim's yelling receded, he collapsed to one side with his eyes closed, gasping.

Blair realized that Jim's cock had slipped out. He felt down where he was sore and numb to make sure the condom had stayed on, since he couldn't see below Jim's waist.

As Jim recovered his breath, he stilled in a way that Blair recognized, though the last time was over a year ago.

Zone.

He put his hand on Jim's chest. "Jim?" Louder. "Jim?"

Jim's eyes fluttered. He looked momentarily confused. Then he closed his eyes and groaned.

Blair got into a partial sitting position, realizing how sore his entire lower region was, and beckoned Jim's head onto his stomach. "I think you zoned just then," he said, keeping his voice positive.

"I think I did too." Jim's voice was weary.

"Zoning on orgasm," Blair marveled. "Is it like all those good feelings are more intense, and you get lost in them?"

"Something like that. I know I'm not present when it happens."

Blair patted him. "It's okay, it's fine. I want you to have whatever special feelings your senses can give you. We'll consider zoning on orgasm to be a Good Zone." His voice softened as he stroked Jim's sweaty head. "Good Zones are always a great thing when we make love to each other."

Jim's arm flopped across him. He looked up at Blair and their eyes met. "I-I'm glad we started doing this."

The most heartfelt things were often the most difficult to say. Blair bent down and kissed his hair. "I am too."

Jim patted Blair's flank. Then he wearily raised himself into a sitting position, while holding his hand over his crotch. He stood on shaky legs and turned his back. There was the noise of the condom hitting the trash can, and then Jim reached for a box of wipes and spent some time cleaning off every digit that had residue from their lovemaking.

He sat back on the bed and placed his hand on Blair's cheek. "Will you let me clean you up?"

Blair wasn't sure what that meant exactly. Still, he rolled over, wondering why he felt more vulnerable now than he had earlier.

Jim's hand settled on the middle of his back.

Blair relaxed and spread his legs.

With his other hand, Jim reached for a box with a label that said something about medicated wipes. "Does it still hurt?"

"Just kind of sore really. And sort of numb in a way."

Jim used one of the wipes. "You want to be the one on top next time?"

Blair thought about that. He said over his shoulder, "We'll have to work up to it a lot more slowly. It does hurt, Jim. When you're aroused, all your senses are exaggerated. Pain will be too. We'll have to figure out how to make it tolerable."

A moment later, Jim said, "You're bleeding a little but it's nothing serious. You might want to keep some of these in the john."

Uh-huh. Blair's eyes were closing.

A few moments later, Jim was sitting next to him and Blair was curled in his arms.

Jim kissed his forehead and whispered, "I love you so much."

"Me too," Blair said softly, then drifted into sleep.

Two days later, Jim discreetly slipped out of the bullpen and took the stairs to the parking garage. He had to keep his hearing dialed back to tolerate the reaming that Simon was giving Rafe and Brown.

He went to his pickup and drove it around to the elevator. He was grateful that his hearing had been able to pick up Simon telling someone on the phone that he would be leaving his office in a short while. He could only hope that whatever appointment Simon had could wait.

The elevator doors opened a few minutes later and Simon emerged, his body language still radiating anger. Since Simon's head was lowered as he moved toward the curb, Jim reached over and opened the door on the passenger side. "Captain."

Simon looked up.

"Get in," Jim said softly.

"Who's giving the orders around here?"

Sandburg, Jim's mind supplied. This really wasn't something he would normally partake in, but he'd come to believe that Blair was right. "Please?" Jim tried, the word and tone feeling foreign on his lips.

Simon moved to the truck and rested his hands on the frame. "I have an appointment."

"Can't it wait for a few minutes? This is important."

Simon seemed intrigued. "Hell, they'll keep me waiting nearly an hour anyway." He hoisted himself up into the truck. "Where are we going?"

"Somewhere private. I need to talk to you." He eased away from the curb.

"If Sandburg's not with you and you want to talk, that means you want to talk about him."

Jim felt his mouth twist up into a smile. Sir, I'm not anywhere near ready to talk to you about him.

Me and him.

His stomach fluttered as they emerged from the garage, then made several turns. When they eased down a deserted-looking alley, he put the truck in park and turned off the motor.

Simon sat back against the door, as though preparing to hear whatever Jim needed to tell him.

Jim looked away when he said, "Everyone is noticing, sir." He felt like he was betraying Simon's need to keep his private business private.

"Noticing what?"

Jim made himself look over. "Your recent behavior."

Simon looked like he wanted a cigar. "What behavior would that be?" he said without looking at Jim.

"Like you're a man who is in desperate need of getting something off his chest."

Simon snorted. "Sandburg put you up to this?"

Jim realized he shouldn't be surprised at the deduction. "Matter of fact, he did. He's worried. So am I. I've never seen you like this before - almost out of control."

With measured words, and still looking away, Simon said, "Did it ever occur to you that a man's personal business is his business and no one else's?"

"Yes. That's why it took Blair's involvement." Jim shifted in his seat. "Keeping whatever it is to yourself isn't working, sir." He realized he could offer a compromise. "But it won't go farther than this truck, if that's what you want; further than me and Blair, that is."

Simon made a soft chuckling noise, then swallowed with difficulty. "I got to hand it to the kid."

"He's not really a kid anymore." Definitely not. But Jim didn't want to change the subject. "What's going on?"

Simon closed his eyes with his face turned toward the side window. Then he let out a slow breath.

When he didn't say anything for a long moment, Jim supplied with a touch of humor, "My senses can tell when you're lying."

"Bastard," Simon muttered. He suddenly sat up and opened his eyes, looking straight ahead. "I might have cancer."

Oh, no. As a wave of disbelief washed through Jim, he kept his voice level, determined to not sound maudlin. "When will you know?"

"When they do the biopsy during surgery. I go in this Saturday. It's in my throat. I've got a tumor so large I can feel it every time I swallow." He looked at Jim. "It might be benign."

Please God. Jim nodded. "Who else knows?"

Simon rested his arm against the door and was looking ahead again. "Nobody."

"Not even Daryl? Joan?"

Simon shifted. "Look, I don't see any reason to put anybody through the worry if it turns out it isn't cancer."

"My God, Simon, you shouldn't be going through this alone when you have people who care about you...," he trailed off at Simon's held-up hand.

Firmly, Simon said, "This is my life, my cancer - if it is cancer - and this is how I want to play it."

"All right, all right," Jim said quickly, not wanting to agitate him further. "If it is cancer, what are your options?"

"It depends on how much it might have spread, once they get in there. The worse case scenario is that they'd have to remove my whole voice box."

Dear God.

"Then, of course, there would be the chemo, radiation, all that crap." The dark head shook. "I swear, Jim, if it is cancer I think I'd prefer to just have a short time to live, rather than put up with the doctors mutilating my body every which way."

Jim understood that. He worked hard at keeping his own body healthy and strong. The idea of losing all that strength and health in an effort to keep him alive.... He wasn't sure he could handle the possibility as well as Simon seemed to be doing.

"I really don't have any fear of death," Simon said distantly. "It's just the fear of what they'll do to me."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

"That's all I can do at this point - hope."

Jim watched him stare out the window. "How were you planning on explaining being away for the surgery?"

"I'm going to tell everyone that I'm taking a few days off for a fishing trip. With the way you say I've been behaving, everyone should be relieved."

Jim's heart clenched. He gazed at Simon a long time, waiting until his superior turned to meet his eye. "Make that a fishing trip that you, I, and Blair are all going on. We'll stay with you at the hospital. Help break the news to everybody, if it comes to that."

Simon drew a breath and looked away. "I don't want Blair there."

"Simon, come on."

"I mean it, Jim. I know it's stupid, but I don't want him to see me when I'm weak."

"He's seen you in the hospital before."

"Yes," Simon said in a raised voice, "when I've been shot. When you're shot trying to protect the public, you're brave. When you've got a disease eating away at your body," his voice deflated, "you're just a a helpless victim."

Damn your pride. Yet, Jim couldn't say he wouldn't feel the same way; that is, in the early months when Blair had looked at him with such worship. He'd eventually learned that Blair could be a competent nursemaid without driving his patient crazy with his hovering. Thinking back, Jim was surprised at how easily his own prideful self had yielded to Blair's help and concern.

"All right," Jim said, "I'll keep Blair away until you're ready to see him." He hoped that would be possible. It seemed it should be, since Blair hadn't tried to be a part of this talk with Simon. "Then it's you and me who are going on a fishing trip. I'll take you to the hospital, be there during the surgery. Be there when you wake up."

Simon chuckled softly. "If you and I go away on a fishing trip, everyone is going to think you and Sandburg are having a spat."

"Then let them think that. Blair can handle any explanations."

The truck fell silent. Then Simon drew a breath, his gaze back on the windshield. "I'm scared, Jim."

"Anybody would be in your situation. It's no wonder you've been like a powder keg ready to explode."

"I thought I could handle it," Simon said, with a shaky edge to his voice.

"You shouldn't have to. Not alone." Jim was tempted to reach over and squeeze Simon's hand. But Simon seemed to be on edge emotionally, and Jim doubted that he would appreciate a gesture that would send him over that edge.

Jim wondered what Blair would do.

"Thanks, Jim," Simon said after a long moment, then cleared his throat. He cocked the door handle. "Look, I'm going to walk back to the garage and get my car and go to my appointment."

"Doctor's appointment?"

"Yeah." Snort. "I've never had a wait less than thirty minutes. I don't know why they schedule them so close together like that."

"Take care. When should I pick you up Saturday morning?"

Simon turned and grinned. "They say I should check in at six AM. Think you can handle that?"

Jim smiled back. "I can handle that."

Simon slammed the door shut. He waved and then turned away.

Jim would have liked to sit there a while, absorbing what had been said. But he didn't want Simon to think he was watching him, so he started the truck and drove away.

He didn't have much time to brood about it. When it was close to quitting time, Merle Jones was spotted, pursued, and arrested. They eventually got a confession from him for Kenneth's murder.

Now it was dark and drizzly, and Jim was headed home. He'd gotten in contact with Blair, telling him he would be late and that he'd had dinner at a fast food place. Blair would've liked to join him, since he was done with the Feldman project for the time being, but Jim kept thinking it wouldn't be much longer.

He was wrong and now, after a fourteen-hour day, he just wanted to crawl into bed with Blair and make love to him. Drown out the returning voices in his mind that wondered what would happen if the worst diagnosis was given during Simon's surgery. He hadn't told Blair about talking to Simon, since their focus earlier in the evening had been on the case.

"Hey, there." Blair's happy eyes greeted him when he entered the loft.

Blair was dressed, but clean-shaven and smelling of a recent shower.

Jim took him by the shoulders, claimed his mouth, and turned to press him back against the wall. This always felt so good... merging so sweetly.

He paused for breath and Blair's grin widened. "Hello to you, too," he said in a breathy whisper.

Jim kissed him again. Not so deeply now, because he needed to mutter, "Upstairs."

They started the slow ascent, kissing as they went.

When they reached the landing, Jim pushed on Blair's shoulders. "Suck me until I'm hard enough to fuck you."

Blair knelt readily and lowered Jim's fly.

His erection emerged.

Blair took his cock in one hand and placed his mouth over the length.

God.

Okay, he was already hard enough to fuck.

But the sensations....

He let it happen, let the good feelings engulf him. Felt all his senses move up the dials and his ears picked up the suck, suck, suck wet noise.

His loins quivered.

He exploded. The orgasm raced through his nerves and he was vaguely aware of dropping to his knees, the impact of the floor harsh against his bones.

Then he toppled over... into Blair's arms.

He listened to the recovery of his own breath, the feel of Blair's fingers sinking into his flesh, sometimes stroking him.

He was spent for now. It meant things were going to take a little longer.

But he knew exactly what he wanted to do.

His head resting on Blair's upraised rump, Jim ran his index finger along Blair's saliva-soaked asshole. He could feel the stretched tissues, courtesy of his cock two nights ago.

He probed a little more, loving how Blair was so accepting of anything he wanted to do. But then, Blair had good reason to be relaxed. Jim could still taste his semen inside his mouth.

Jim's own erection had returned.

Jim hoisted himself to his knees. He took a moment to place his hand in the center of Blair's back - remembering how that had comforted him the other night - and gently asked, "You ready to turn over?"

"Only if you're done playing back there."

"My cock wants to play."

Blair turned over. "Then let's accommodate it."

They spent some time getting the pillows just right.

As Jim pushed his lubricated finger inside Blair he said, "I think I can make it feel better than it did last time."

Blair closed his eyes as Jim moved the digit in... and out. "The opening is only so large. I assume with practice it gets stretched out enough."

Probably.

"Besides, there's the incredibly intense intimacy to it that makes the pain worth it."

The sphincter muscle had relaxed. Jim inserted a second finger and focused on sensations at the tips. He found a small swelling. He rubbed gently across it.

"Mm," Blair said, closing his eyes.

"If God hadn't meant for men to have anal intercourse," Jim reasoned, "he wouldn't have given them sensitive prostate glands that can be so easily stimulated through the rectal wall."

A smile formed on Blair's lips, and then his legs spread wider and his lower body relaxed even more. "That's fantastic."

"That's where I want to focus my thrusts." Jim slowly withdrew his fingers..

He breath quickened as he got himself ready. It was difficult handling his cock when it was so stimulated.

He was comforted by the gentle grip on his arms as he poised to enter Blair. The sensitive glans flared as they pressed against Blair's slick tissues. He pushed quickly, knowing it was hurting Blair, but needing to prevent the tight outer ring from stimulating him past the edge.

He tried to tune out Blair's grunts of pain and focused on the head of his cock, trying to figure out where it was in relation to the sensitive gland.

He found it and began to pump in earnest.

"Ah.., Ahh...," Blair cried joyfully. "Ahh... AHH..."

His cock was magnificent because it could do this for Blair.

There was something else he could give Blair. Something that he had always known Blair wanted more than anything in the world. Jim had always refused him... in doing so, had refused himself.

Whatever the reasons then, they didn't matter anymore.

As Jim pumped rhythmically, he cried out, "I... am... a SENTINEL."

Blair's eyes widened in surprise.

Jim ejaculated..

They dozed for nearly an hour. When Jim was certain that Blair was fully waking, he shifted onto his side to face him.

He reached out and his fingertips stroked along the nearest strands of hair. "You were right about Simon."

Blair blinked and looked up at Jim with alert eyes. "What's going on with him?"

Jim swallowed, finding the words hard to say. "He thinks he might have throat cancer."

Blair gasped. "He's not sure?"

"He has a tumor. They're removing it this Saturday. They'll biopsy it then to find out if it's malignant."

"Oh, God," Blair said in a shaky voice.

Jim reiterated most of his conversation with Simon.

"At least there's reason to believe everything's going to be okay. Did they say what the chances are of it being malignant?"

"I didn't ask."

"Man, I can't believe he was trying to go through this himself. Did he think everyone would think less of him or something?"

Jim hesitated, amazed at how accurate Blair's perception was. "I'll be with him all day Saturday - as long as necessary."

"What can I do to help?"

Jim swallowed. "Let him have as much privacy as necessary. He needs to go through this his own way. It's the least we can grant him."

Blair closed his eyes and was quiet for a long moment. When he opened them, he said, "What a night this has been. I get made love to like I never have before. You finally embrace the fact that you're a sentinel. And I find out one of my best friends might have cancer."

Jim moved closer. "I'm right here with you." He didn't think Blair needed that reassurance, but it felt good to say it.

Oh, hell, he needed to do more than say it. He sat up and enclosed Blair in his arms. "I love you so much." He kissed his forehead. "If I had to go through what Simon is going through... you'd be my anchor. My everything."

Blair rested against him for a long moment. Then he said, "Jim? There's something I have to do. There's this prayer ritual I do when people I care about need help from a higher power. It'll mean lighting candles and doing some meditation." He kissed Jim. "I hate to leave you alone right now, but I have to do this."

"Can't hurt," Jim said. The bed would be lonely, but he was still sated enough to fall right back to sleep.

He watched Blair disappear down the stairs, naked.

Please, God, let his prayer ritual work.

Blair shifted the large pot of flowers to a more comfortable position. As he got off the elevator, he followed the signs to Room 1418.

"Hey, Chief," Jim greeted from where he stood beside Simon bed. Then, to its occupant, "Look what Sandburg's brought."

Simon looked tiredly at Blair. He simply nodded at him and sort of rolled his eyes, as though he didn't appreciate the flowers. But he was smiling.

He had plenty to smile about. The tumor had been removed the day before and declared benign. It had been removed via mouth, so that the outside of Simon's throat wasn't even cut. Still, talking, eating, and swallowing were going to be very difficult for a few days.

"They're an appropriately masculine arrangement," Blair defended as he placed them on the nightstand.

Jim said, "Simon wants to tell the crew that he got strep throat while he and I were fishing. That'll explain why his voice is still raspy when he goes back to work."

Blair looked from Simon to Jim. "He told you that?"

"Wrote it out."

"Oh. When do you expect to be back at work?"

Simon's mouth started to form an answer and Jim supplied, "Wednesday."

"And you're getting released...?"

"Tomorrow morning."

"Good. You'll at least have Tuesday to rest at home. Sure you don't want to take the whole week off?"

Simon vehemently shook his head.

"Just our luck," Blair mock-grumbled. Actually, he was gratified that Simon had given his okay to visit so soon after the surgery. But then, Simon had to be downright exhilarated as soon as he woke to hear the verdict for the tumor. "Surely, you're going to give up smoking after this."

Simon turned to Jim and began mouthing words.

Blair couldn't tell what they were from his angle.

Jim said, "He says you're getting on his nerves, Chief."

Blair clasped his hands together. Things were getting back to normal. "Okay, then. I guess it's time for me to make my exit for the time being. Get lots of rest and eat lots of ice cream." At least, he assumed that was good advice.

While heading for the door, he heard Jim say, "I'll be back in a minute."

When they were in the hall, Jim draped his arm along Blair's shoulders. "He really is feeling pretty good, all things considered."

"Yeah, that's great. But is he really not going to give up smoking after this?"

Jim shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe it'll just take a while for this scare to sink in."

Blair nudged him. "Hey, I was thinking of making a full-fledged dinner late tonight. You know, after visiting hours are over."

"Sounds great. I'd love a good meal when I get home."

Blair beamed at Jim. "You're really wonderful to do this for him - spend all this time with him. I love you so much for that."

"It looks like your Prayer Ritual worked, huh?"

"I'd like to think so. Whatever the reason, I'm so glad it turned out the way it did."

"You and me both."

"I just wish he'd let the others in on it."

"It's his decision, Chief."

"I know." Blair nudged Jim's hip. "Guess I'll go to the grocery store and get everything for dinner." His lips formed a kiss. "Leave plenty of room for 'dessert'."

Jim whispered, "You teasing little shit."

Blair laughed. "Always." He turned away to the elevators.

Life was good. It was only going to get better.