Dirty Little Secret #4

"That's okay, Sandburg. You take the night off, catch up to us tomorrow night." Jim paused, waiting to hear how hard Blair argued.

Not very. Barely a two on the Sandburg-v-Jim verbal scale.

{He doesn't want to come.}

Jim cut off, not giving his Guide a chance to change his mind. Closing the phone and tucking it away with too-careful movements, Jim was mightily aware of the man that shared the front of the Taurus with him, but he ignored him for the moment as he reviewed things in his head, trying to make sense of it all.

Blair had come home subdued after the humiliating visit from Simon and Joel. Jim left the station right after Simon, thinking that if he was going to be busted, he didn't want it to happen in the bullpen.

But Blair came home alone, and made dinner. And generally made like everything was fine. And he kept doing it. Now, a week later, the bruises fading, Jim's knee finally settling down, there was little physical evidence of what had passed between them.

"Are you mad at him, Ellison?" the voice was hostile.

Startled from his thoughts, Jim glanced sideways and sighed.

"No, Taggart. I'm relieved, actually. He's been doing too much." Jim knew full well that Joel had requested to be partnered with he and Blair, but didn't know what the big man thought he would gain from it. An understanding? The opportunity to protect Blair from Jim?

It didn't make any sense. So Jim asked.

"Joel, why are you here?" He saw the flinch at the first-name usage, but let it go. Maybe they weren't friends anymore. He needed to find out.

"I thought you could use a hand."

"I've been taking my shift on this stakeout since last week, Joel. Simon assigned me to it. And you assigned yourself. I think we both know why."

Joel's face could be surprisingly expressive when he let it, and now it was clear that he was disgusted.

"How could you do that to him, Ellison?"

Jim shrugged and the disgust was joined by contempt.

"I don't ask about your personal life, Joel."

"I don't hurt the people I sleep with!" Joel snapped.

"Look!" his temper stretched thin, Jim snapped back. "What happens between me and Sandburg is just that, between Me and Sandburg. We had a fight, we had some rough sex, and we got over it! You need to do the same, Joel, or there's not going to be anything left of our friendship."

Taken aback by the outburst, all the more powerful because it was delivered in a growl, Joel backed off for a few minutes. And then he spoke with less condemnation.

"Sandburg is such a smart guy, Jim. And he's smaller than you. I just can't see him liking that."

Hands fisting in his lap, Jim looked away, out the window, presumedly staring at the dark house they were watching.

"But you can see it in me?"

A longer pause, and then a sigh.

"No, not really."

Hearing the honest confusion, hoping they could salvage this, Jim tried to explain without saying too much.

"This thing with Sandburg...it's strange, Joel. Neither of us knows what we're doing. It just seemed to happen, and the next thing we knew...Bam."

"So you're in love with him, and he's in love with you."

"He's my partner, Joel. And neither of us has ever been into men. We get mad and it bleeds over into everything...we just kept pushing those feelings down and hiding them and they all came out at once."

"You're both pretty stubborn people." Joel almost smiled and Jim drew a relieved breath.

"We're oil and water, Joel. We just need to find our balance."

Jim was startled again by a big hand slapping his shoulder.

"I understand, Jim. I do. Just...y'know, be more careful next time. I know he got you good, too, but remember, he's not a cop, he's a teacher. You don't want to get carried away and really hurt him. Even if he, well, i-if he likes it that way, you don't haveta hurt him."

Jim's voice got lower, rougher, and his face darkened as he flushed, not looking at the man beside him.

"He did like it, Joel. And so did I. But I'll be more careful. We're still learning each other's limitations."

"I told Blair he could call me if it ever got out of hand, Jim." Taggart used his first name for the first time in a week. "If you need me, to help the two of you out -- to pull him off you or hold you back or whatever...call me."

"Thanks, Joel." reaching over with a hand that barely trembled, Jim patted the larger man's thigh.

They watched the quiet house all night.

Jim was embarrassed, but oddly relieved. He knew he would have to have similar conversation with Simon, but Joel's belief and support gave him hope that he could save that friendship as well.

He knew they were going to be too late. Damn Blair anyhow, somehow always in the wrong place at the wrong time. The younger man was either the luckiest person alive, or the unluckiest...and sometimes it was damn hard to tell which.

Traded off between two sets of armed bad guys, the girl he had a such a crush on that he planned an elaborate seven-course dinner to soften her up, Blair'd been shot at, banged on the head...but he survived, again. Got the upper hand, and won out in the end.

The smile on his face when he turned to Jim, taking off his shades to reveal those beautiful eyes, eyes that met Jim's without hesitation, smile widening. Jim saw Simon notice and his answering smile was even wider than he'd intended.

Going home, Simon had met Jim's eyes for the first time in a week. He'd smiled at his detective, and teased the two of them. And left the loft with a not-at-all-subtle warning: "I'me beat, guys. I hope nothing happens that I need to be woken up for."

Exchanging glances, Blair shook his head and grinned, Jim's expression was priceless.

"I don't think dinner worked on him, Simon." he deadpannned.

Simon laughed all the way down to his car.

Blair gave Jim a soft look, and gathered things up. Jim helped him clean after dinner. Then Blair pulled out his laptop and settled in to work for the evening After a couple of hours he stood and stretched.

And came to sit on the coffee table in front of Jim, who was pretending to relax, laid out on the sofa, watching a college basketball game.

"Blair?" hands tight to his sides, afraid to touch, to offer.

Blair's hands touched him. Resting softly on his chest as his friend managed a shaky smile.

Bringing his hands up, Jim tenderly brushed his fingers over the yellowish bruise residue. Watching Blair's face for rejection, he raised each one and kissed them gently in turn.

"Jim, I'm sorry."

Not the words the man expected to hear, he waited to see where Blair was going.

"When this started...we agreed. To just deal with it as it came. By skipping off to Australia for the summer, I screwed up the balance."

"It's not your fault, Chief. I could have gone with you. I should have gone with you."

"Is that what's coming, Jim? We won't be able to live our lives? What about the future? How long can we keep this up?"

Shaking his head, Jim sat up and opened his arms slightly, offering an embrace hesitantly. Comfort, closeness...these things weren't part of it. Or. at least, they hadn't been so far.

With a deep sigh Blair leaned, arms curled to his chest, and allowed Jim to just hold him, for the first time.

"I love you, Jim. You really are my best friend. But I don't...I can't...spend the rest of my life living with you like that."

"I can't see it either." Jim shrugged, the movement drawing Blair closer. There was no arousal, no desire at all, in either of them. "I still like women. I'm still turned on by them."

"I still want to get married someday, Jim. Fall in love. Have a family. How can I take this into a real relationship?"

"Even if this hadn't happened I like to think we wouldn't lose our friendship if that happened. We'll just have to keep it up, as long as we have to."

Another sigh, and then Blair rose from the table. He gathered his things and headed for his room.

"It's been a really long day, man. I'm, like, gonna crash."

"Okay." Jim said absently. He was relaxing for the first time in weeks, and he could almost see his world as it righted itself. "I'll see you in the morning."

And, just like that, things were back to normal.

Until the next Tuesday.

"Jim!" Simon shouted as Ellison came into the office after a lunch with Taggart. "Message for you."

Making a face, Jim crossed to the office and entered, shutting the door behind him and leaning on it casually.

"Sandburg just called. Said to tell you that he has some things to take care of before we leave in the morning, and he won't be home until after dinner, so you're on your own."

"You could have just written a note, Captain." Jim was being careful. He hadn't had that talk with Simon after all, and was hoping to avoid it indefinitely. This fishing trip had been planned almost a year ago, and it had been Jim who'd insisted that Blair be included.

"There's more." Going behind his desk, Simon sat and leaned back, arms crossed over his chest. "He said to tell you that maybe you'd better wait up for him. I quote: 'There's something we need to do before we go.'"

Feeling his face heat, Jim blinked once, and then met his captain's dark gaze. "Are you ready to talk about it, Ellison?"

{Damn. I'm Ellison again.}

"No, sir. I don't think it would help the situation."

"I just don't want to be surprised." Simon leaned forward and studied Jim seriously. "When the two of you crawl into a sleeping bag together tomorrow night."

"That's not going to happen. Sandburg and I...we're strictly part-time, sir, and that at the loft only."

"I don't want to know any more about this, do I?" Simon sat back again. His dark face was puzzled. Jim dropped his gaze the the delicate pattern in the weave of the grey sweater-vest the big man wore. When Jim didn't answer he spoke again.

"I do want one thing, Jim. I want you to know that I'm not going to stand aside and listen to you hurt him...whether he wants you to or not."

Jim's head snapped up and his face tightened, taking on the blank look Simon had been so familiar with before Blair joined the detective's life.

"We've gotten over that, sir. I promise."

{As long as we don't go too long without having sex, and I'm not about to explain that to you.}

"I'm glad to hear it."

Back at his desk, musing over Blair's message, Jim understood. They were fast approaching the deadline, but he didn't want to do it while they were out camping with Simon. Jim didn't either, definitely.

So they would do it tonight, get it out of their systems.

{Tonight I will make love to Blair.} Jim told himself sternly. {For the first time since this started, I am going to be the kind of lover he deserves.}

With that thought in mind Jim began making plans.

Blair opened the door cautiously. He wasn't sure what to expect. When he'd called earlier in the day, he'd fretted about leaving that cryptic message. But he hadn't wanted to spell things out for Simon -- duh -- and he'd known he was going to be busy the rest of the day and away from a phone.

If they had a chance to think about it beforehand, it would be better, right?

Stepping into the loft, he registered the dimness. There were no lights on.

"Jim?" he called softly, not wanting to wake his friend if he were sleeping. Hanging up the backpack, he turned quickly when the balcony door, covered by closed blinds, opened and a figure was silhouetted there.

"Over here, Blair."

The use of his first name was a tip off. Blair crossed the room, his movements a little stiff, tense, and stopped as Jim stepped aside, drawing in a quick breath.

The balcony was lit by several candles that flickered in the breeze off the water. There was a low table Blair had never seen before, with several small rugs around it, and a bottle of wine and two glasses on the table.

"I was waiting for you." Gesturing, Jim bowed slightly, inviting him to step out.

"Aw, man. Isn't this..." choosing a place on the rug beside the table, Blair folded his legs into lotus position and leaned forward, his eyes caught by the candlelight reflecting off the dark green glass.

"Too romantic?" Jim shook his head as he sat on the other side of the table. He stretched his legs beneath it and his calves brushed Blair's thighs. They both shivered at the contact. Reaching for a the small cooler behind him, Jim bit his lip and turned back, offering a bowl.

"I thought we...you...deserve some romance here, Chief."

Blair didn't answer. Jim set two bowls on the table and poured sparkling white wine.

"We've decided to so this. We really have to do this. But it doesn't have to be something terrible. I don't want it to be painful or degrading or violent."

Blair picked up his bowl and stared into it.

"It's that pasta shrimp salad you like, from Antoinelli's." Jim said softly.

"Is this supposed to make me feel better about....this?" a slender hand on Jim's leg, the heat sparking through both of them.

Jim shook his head, sadly, and sipped his wine for a few minutes, until the glass was gone. He didn't speak again until he was refilling it.

"It's to make me feel better, Blair. Do you begrudge me that?"

Taken aback by the low words, Blair placed the bowl on the table with exaggerated care and picked up his own glass in artistic fingers. He raised it, with a rueful half-grin, and drank.

"Not at all, Jim. Do your worst." he immediately regretted the choice of words when Jim flinched and looked away.

"i already have."

Blair's hand spread on Jim's leg and stroked deliberately.

"We were both there, Jim. We both did it."

When Jim didn't look back Blair took a deep breath and held it for a minute, then released it slowly. Then he patted Jim's leg and picked up his fork. His smile was shaky, but real.

"I've never been romanced before. Except by Maya, and I guess that doesn't really count....I might like it."

The normally bright blue eyes were even brighter when they came back to meet Blair's own.

"I've never done much of it." Jim admitted, refilling Blair's glass and picking up his own fork. "The practice would be good for me."

They shared a smile...hesitant, unsure, but willing to trust.

Jim pulled out a few more bowls of food...things he knew Blair liked; a broccoli salad from their favorite deli, cold sliced moroccan-spiced chicken, the little wheat-and-rye rolls from the italian place, chewy when they were cold, garlic spread and crackers. Green grapes and honeyed figs.

The wine flowed slowly, both recognizing that being drunk wasn't going to help things. But having the edge off just might.

When Blair sat back and sighed, leaning on the wall behind him, sipping his wine, watching Jim, there was a real smile on his face, relaxed and open.

"You must have spent the whole day shopping. I know I've never seen this table before."

"I thought..." Jim shrugged. "I thought it would be easier if we made a ritual o fit."

Blair gaped.

"Damn, I should have thought of that. Of course! Jim, you're a genius." he chuckled through the words.

"Don't sound so surprised." pretending annoyance, Jim finally chuckled with him, but it was cut off by Blair's next sobering words.

"I still don't want this, you know."

"No more than I do." reality seemed to rise up and threatened to smother them in a dark cloud.

They sat, breathing it in and trying to see through it.

"But it's not so bad." Blair's whisper cut through the cloud clumsily. "I can pretend."

"Until your body takes over." Jim said, his voice raspy and painfilled.

"Exactly." Setting his half-full glass on the table, Blair stood and offered Jim his hand. "I'm going to take a shower and get ready. You want to keep me company?" he stood very still as he waited for Jim's response.

"I think I'd better clean up here..." Jim saw the effort it took Blair to make that offer, and changed his mind abruptly. "Yeah, Chief. I'd like that."

Stripping as he went, Blair walked to the bathroom. Behind him Jim blew out the candles and shut the balcony doors. The water was running and Blair was standing in the hot stream, head bowed to his chest, when Jim entered the bathroom after him.

"Blair?"

"Just relaxing, Jim." Blair spoke, and moved. Jim leaned back on the door, arms folded over his chest, and enjoyed the show as Blair lathered up, rinsed, and did his hair. When Blair turned off the water and stepped out he held out a towel, disappointed when Blair took it from him and dried himself, not giving Jim a chance to do it for him.

Wrapping the dark red cloth around his waist and tucking the end in snugly, Blair looked at him, nervously.

"Jim?"

One strong arm reached, one big hand cupped, and a single calloused finger stroked as Jim caressed Blair's face.

Blair sighed and closed his eyes.

"I'm going to make this good for you, Chief." it was a promise.

The younger man had no idea how seriously Jim took this promise, not until they got upstairs and he saw the bed. Pillows were aligned in the center and there were candles there waiting to be lit. A bottle of massage oil lay on a heating pad on the floor beside the bed.

"Lie down." Jim gave him a gentle push and went to light the candles.

"This is strange, Jim." Keeping the towel, Blair lay on his stomach, the pillow beneath his hips, as he knew it should be.

"I know." the warm light spilled into the room and made mysterious shadows on the ceiling and walls. "But after a little bit we won't care, will we."

There was no answer to that.

Jim undressed, near the head of the bed where Blair could see him, his damp curls and heavy head resting on another stack of pillows.

"Let me good to you, Blair." a crooning voice as Jim settled on his knees straddling Blair's legs.

"Okay, Jim." resigned acceptance.

{If this will relieve his guilt, I'll let him do it. But it's not going to make me feel better about what we do.}

Strong hands, slick and faintly musky-smelling. stroked Blair's shoulders, then dug in to rub out tension and weariness.

Dancing up and down his spine those fingers found and untied each knot in Blair's muscles. Soon he was sighing and making low muffled mumbled noises of appreciation as the warmth and comfort and wine combined to relax him almost totally.

When the hands slid to his ass and kneaded the tempting curves, he shifted instinctively, legs parting slightly, inviting a deeper touch.

"You look so pretty like this." Jim leaned over his back and began kissing his neck and shoulders, warm press of lips to sensitized skin that made Blair shiver. His breathing picked up.

"I've never seen a woman like this and wanted her the way I want you."

"She'd say no, man. If she had any sense at all." His mind fuzzy from the wine and budding pleasure, Blair muttered the first thing that came to him. Jim faltered, but then continued as if he hadn't said anything.

"This isn't going to hurt, Chief. The times we've done it this way before....it's hurt, I know. I'm not going to hurt you again."

"Last time didn't hurt, Jim." Blair made an effort to sound clearer, hearing the guilt in his best friend's voice and not liking it. "The sex didn't hurt."

"Just the rest of it." Jim sighed.

"And I asked for it. Literally." Blair wriggled his hips slightly, surprised by the urge to encourage Jim, but giving in to it without resistance. "You gonna just sit there, man?"

A harsh laugh, and then one hand slid between his parted legs, closing on his balls and rolling them gently.

"No way, kid."

"Uunnnnn, Jimmmm..." a groan spilled from Blair's mouth and he raised his hips, giving Jim better access to his ass.

Soon a slick finger probed into him and Blair shivered at the sensation. Jim spend long moments searching with that finger, going deeper and then deeper, until he felt the small protrusion and deliberately stroked it.

A subdued shiver and quick indrawn breath, then Blair's halting response.

"jim...was that...?"

"I sure hope so." pleased with Blair's reaction, Jim did it again. Blair's shiver was nearly a shudder this time and Jim decided it was time to move up to more.

"Two fingers now, Chief."

"Okay." a quiet answer. Blair's body hovered between tense and relaxed, his voice betrayed his indecision.

{I can make him want this.} Jim told himself. and began working toward that goal.

Two fingers in and around, scissoring and stretching. Then three, and Blair's moan of fullness broken as Jim rubbed harder against the prostate.

"This shouldn't...feel...so good...." Blair panted.

"It will feel better, Chief." settling back on his knees, Jim lubed his thick cock. He was hard and ready, but it wasn't overwhelming.

{Maybe the wine helped. Or spending so much time in foreplay.}

Whatever it had been, it was a distinct improvement over their previous animal couplings.

His hands grasped Blair's ass, spread him gently apart. He felt the smaller man tense, and wished that he wouldn't.

"Relax, Sandburg. This will be easier on both of us if you just relax."

"I want to, man. But my mind is saying one thing and my body's saying another again."

"Treat it like one of my senses. Dial down your head and just listen to your body." The tip of Jim's cock pressed against Blair's opening.

"Now I know why you snarl when I tell you things like that."

Blair took a deep breath, held it, released it. As the air flowed from his body Jim pushed forward slowly.

"Ahhhhhh..." Blair groaned, and then grunted. "Jim."

"It's okay, Chief. It's okay. Just you and me. Sentinel and Guide, doing what we're supposed to. It will feel good in just a few seconds."

"It doesn't hurt, Jim." Blair hastened to reassure his friend. "I just feel...stretched. Full. It's uncomfortable....but it feels good, too."

"You feel great from this end." Jim leaned, laying himself out on Blair's back, running his hands sown the smaller man's arms to twine their fingers, covering him. Filling him.

Beneath him Blair sighed deeply, and relaxed noticeably. He turned his head to the other side and opened his mouth.

Jim took it in an awkward kiss and started to move.

"I love this." Jim whispered, breaking the kiss to nuzzle a jeweled ear. "Maybe I shouldn't. Maybe you don't want me to. But, God, I do."

"It feels good, Jim." Blair agreed. He was moving with Jim now, matching the rhythm of Jim's thrusts.

"Let's see if I can...unh...make it..." Jim shifted his weight, forcing Blair's legs further apart, and changed his angle. Blair gasped, then froze, then shouted suddenly.

"Damn! Again, Jim!"

"Feel better!" Jim grinned widely as Blair's movement's picked up and the smaller man began making a low moaning noise in the back of his throat. Careful to keep his angle the same, Jim thrust harder, giving Blair's prostate a vigorous rub each time, and the younger man was writhing under him now, his beautiful hands clenched white-knuckled in the bedspread.

Every move of that wonderful body brought Jim closer to the pinnacle, and he knew that he would be useless once he reached it. Taking a deep breath and forcing himself to stop, he gathered Blair as close as he could and rolled them both to their sides.

Blair grunted deeply and began thrusting back onto him, repeatedly impaling himself on Jim's aching shaft, and it was all Jim could do to keep up.

Now it was Blair fucking himself on Jim's cock, not Jim fucking Blair. He had totally lost control if the situation and he couldn't have cared less. His hands clutched Blair's hips as he dimly tried to keep the younger man from hurting himself, and at last he thought to reach around and take Blair's cock in his hand, closing on it tightly.

Blair stiffened and his body spasmed.

"JIM!" the shout bounced off the walls and rang in Jim's ears as the thick fluid pumped over his hand. Blair's muscles tightened around him and Jim was helpless to stop the slide into his own release, glued tightly to Blair's back, his hands digging into the smooth skin of his square hips brutally, until it was over he lay gasping.

A slender hand crept back and settled over Jim's, still digging into Blair's hip.

"Jim?"

"Yeah, babe?"

"That really was better."

"I should hope-to-God so."

Nuzzling into Blair's hair, still damp and now warm on his neck, Jim closed his eyes. He should get up, clean up from dinner, finish packing for the trip...

{I'll just close my eyes for a minute.}

"Jim. C'mon, man, Simon will be here any minute. I've got the truck loaded, and you're going to need a shower."

Rolling onto his back, realizing that he was curled around a pillow that smelled like his Guide and not the man himself, Jim cracked open an eye.

"What time is it?"

"Almost six. You were so out, I decided to let you sleep."

Sitting, Jim studied his partner. He looked fine. Good, in fact. His eyes had that Sandburg sparkle and his hands were dancing in the air as he spoke. Jim would have bet that it was impossible for anybody to look good in that shade of green, but Blair managed. Better than managed, really.

"You up?'" Blair hovered by the bed, asking.

"I'm up."

"Good. I've got to pull the muffins out of the oven."

"Muffins?" Blair turned and Jim reached, caught his hand. "Blair. Are you okay with everything?"

"Yeah, man. It was nice." Blair answered over his shoulder.

"And we're okay?"

"You're my best friend, Jim. We're going fishing. Of course everything's okay." now Blair smiled radiantly.

Jim was stunned by the force of that smile. He stared. Blair gripped Jim's hand on his arm, removing it and giving it a squeeze.

"Who knows. Maybe we'll meet a couple of hot blonds with a penchant for outdoor sports..." His tease trailed off as he jogged down the stairs.

Jim's smile was stupid, but his relief was all too real.

-- End --

saraid@wf.net