Guidelines: Power Play 9
Jun. 10th, 2006 10:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lit_galAnd here be the prOn. Yep, we have slashy goodness, so if you're a gen reader, skip this chapter.
Jim/Blair
Blair watched as Jim drove so slowly and carefully that other drivers passed with blaring horns that made his Sentinel's jaw clench. He half expected Jim to carry through with his rather elaborate threat to arrest him, but instead of pulling onto Pender Street, Jim turned on 17th and headed toward Prospect.
Blair shifted a little to ease the strain on his arms, but he stilled when something that sounded suspiciously like a growl came from the other side of the cab. Looking over, Blair could see Jim's fists clutching the wheel so tightly that his knuckles were white and the bones stretched the skin until his hands looked faintly inhuman.
Jim turned onto Prospect near their place and continued driving like an eighty year old woman with a new set of china in back. Pulling into the parking space, Jim got out, and Blair watched him walk around the front of the truck with rolling, graceful motion that reminded him of an angry cat. He jerked the passenger side door open and reached over Blair to unhook the seat belt.
"Jim, I don't think the neighbors will be amused with you dragging me around handcuffed," Blair said softly. Jim stopped, his arm still reaching across Blair's body and a single flickering glance up the only evidence that he'd heard. When hands pulled at him, Blair slid out of the truck without complaint, rolling his eyes when Jim slung a jacket over his shoulders.
"Yeah, a jacket when it's so hot outside plastic lawn chairs are melting," he muttered, but Jim just tightened his grip on Blair's arm as he pulled his guide into the building, and Blair bit his tongue.
The truth was that as much as he wanted to kick Jim's ass for manhandling him, a teeny, tiny, small little piece of him warmed at the possessiveness. Of course, that didn't mean he was going to get his Sentinel get away with handcuffing him and shoving him in the truck every time Blair did something he didn't like. If he let Jim get away with that, he was going to spend a whole lot of time handcuffed… and bondage was not nearly as much fun out of the bedroom as in it.
"I can't believe you," Jim finally spat out as the elevator rose.
"Worked," Blair answered softly with an awkward shrug. The elevator doors opened, and Blair followed as Jim led him down the hall. When Jim trapped him between the wall and his own body to unlock the door, Blair felt the stirrings of suspicion. Jim's focused on the key, his hand gripping the metal tightly as he jammed it at the lock twice before getting it in.
"Jim?" Blair leaned toward his Sentinel, but Jim turned his eyes away as he pushed the door open.
"In," Jim ordered tersely. Blair slipped into the loft and shrugged his shoulders to make the jacket slide to the floor. Then he watched as Jim locked the door before stalking over to the windows where he closed each blind and checked every lock. Sighing, Blair toed off his sneakers, kicking them under the coffee table before he sat on the couch and pulled his feet under him.
Jim gave him a sharp look at the movement, and now Blair could see black eyes ringed in blue as Jim scented the air. A movement caught Blair's eye, and he looked down to see Jim slowly rubbing his right wrist, his hand twisting first one way and then the other.
"Jim, are you hurt?" Blair asked, noticing for the first time the trail of slimy mud down one knee. Without even answering, Jim did a circuit through the bathroom and kitchen, and Blair leaned back, rolling his eyes at the thought of a bad guy hiding in with the color-coded Tupperware.
"You know, you could thank me for getting us both out of there," Blair shouted as Jim went to subdue the evil dust bunnies on the second floor. If they were going to have a fight, he wanted to have it and get it over with; however, his cranky sentinel didn't even bother answering.
Blair closed his eyes and tilted his head back on the couch. "She was a girl looking for her father. She wasn't actually any threat. If you'd done your cop thing with her, you would have been stuck fighting your way past their guards. I took a risk, yes, but it was the best move we could have made. No way would I have done anything like that if Carasco or some random thug had walked in the greenhouse." Blair stopped and gasped as hot breath flowed over his neck.
Opening his eyes, he found Jim leaning over him, black eyes staring down while Jim rested his hands on the back of the couch on either side of Blair's head.
"Man, I was just doing the right thing," Blair said as Jim's eyes moved down his body. Then hands took over, fingers running through his hair, down his face and around his neck. Clumsy hands pulled at the buttons of his shirt, unfastening some and ripping others before hot hands ran along his chest, rubbing over tender, peaked nipples and reaching around to caress his back.
"Oh fuck," Blair breathed as Jim touched every bit of him. The rational part of Blair's brain pointed out that his sentinel only wanted to make sure the guide was whole and safe; however that half of his brain went on strike as Jim's hands moved down, fumbling with his jeans.
"Uncuff me and I'll help," Blair promised, his cock starting to ache with the pressure. Jim ignored him. Finally his jeans were off, and sentinel hands mapped the rest of him. Gasping with need as fingers ghosted over curves and skimmed across his skin leaving tingling trails, Blair arched up into Jim's touch. But for every movement he made, Jim matched him so that he teased without ever giving enough contact for Blair to do more than writhe in need.
"You're killing me here," Blair finally gasped, and that seemed to shake Jim out of his silence.
"You could have been killed," Jim growled, and now hands settled at Blair's hips, holding him so tightly that Blair couldn't thrust up.
"I took a risk," Blair admitted, and now he could watch as the dark iris of Jim's eye widened. "But it was the best way out of the situation," he hurried to add.
"You could have been killed," Jim accused him again, standing up. Again, the left hand started rubbing the opposing wrist, and Blair watched the gesture. Jim's wrist wasn't injured, but he had a pretty good idea why it bothered him. Sentinels had remarkably good sensory memories, able to relive a moment so that they felt and saw and smelled everything.
"I'm safe, and I'm right here," Blair said as he leaned forward, frustrated that the handcuffs kept him from reaching out to Jim.
"Damn it," Jim snarled as he turned away and charged back to the kitchen. Blair watched as he yanked open the refrigerator hard enough to make a take out menu flutter to the floor as the magnet holding it fell. He grabbed a cold beer and then slammed the refrigerator, leaning on it so that Blair could only see his back.
"Man, I'm the guide. You gotta talk to me here," Blair tried. Jim turned on him with such a fierce expression, that Blair instantly shut up.
"You're not a cop, Junior. You're not a cop or a soldier and you have no business pulling shit like that. On the job, I am in charge, and I recall telling you to stay behind me."
Blair took a deep breath as he gathered his arguments; of course, naked and handcuffed wasn't really a good starting point for a serious conversation.
"If some thug had walked in, I would have been totally behind you, probably cowering and praying to at least a dozen gods, but it wasn't some thug," Blair explained calmly. It didn't impress Jim.
"You think you can look at a person and tell if they're dangerous or not? Chief, you have some growing up to do."
"Don't even start that crap. I understand the big, bad world, and that doesn't mean I'm going to flinch away from danger. What kind of a guide would I be if I didn't actually back you up?"
"I don't need your back up," Jim snapped before taking a long drink of beer. For a second, Blair felt as though he'd been kicked in the guts, his stomach tightening until he didn't know if he wanted to cry or be sick. If he'd had a chance, he would have walked out the door, and as he glared at Jim, he could see the smug expression on the man's face slowly turn to guilt. Jim's eyes darted away to the closed balcony door and then to the silent television.
"I'm your guide, and that means I back you up whether you need me or not," Blair finally answered quietly.
"Fuck." Jim leaned against the counter and looked as though he had aged ten years in a single moment. "Chief…" Jim stopped.
"Man, I can imagine that you're feeling overwhelmed and stressed and more than a little cranky right now, but I'm your guide, and that means I am going to follow you into the field."
"I don't want you in the field," Jim snapped back.
"Oh man, you take the cake. You think I don't feel the same way?" Blair finally exploded. "Don't you think I worry every time you go off by yourself and leave me wondering if you'll have a zone or a spike or just get shot in the fucking back like that cop a couple of years ago? Do you really think you have some sort of fucking monopoly on being completely freaked out?"
"It's my job," Jim said as he stepped closer, his voice low.
"It's my job too; I'm the guide."
"It's not—"
"Don't fucking go there. Remember Ms. Cassidy, the rape victim that I reassured by pulling out the sentinel card? Remember how pissed you were because you didn't want her looking at you like you were some sort of Superman? You were right! You were right to slam me into that wall… you were right to call me on that hero worship thing. You aren't Superman; you're just a damn good cop with sentinel senses. So, you need to stop thinking you're Superman and that you can do this shit alone." Blair didn't realize he had stood up, but he found himself chest to chest with Jim, his jeans still bunched around one ankle and his shirt hanging from his handcuffed wrists.
"You are not a cop," Jim repeated, the muscle in his jaw bulging in frustration.
"But I'm a guide," Blair countered. "I'm a cold guide," he pointed out as he eyed the air conditioning vent that sent chilly slivers of air across his bare chest. Jim went over to the chair and grabbed the blanket draped over the back before coming back and sliding it over Blair's shoulders. Then a strong arm guided him back to the couch, sitting him down.
"Chief, there are some things you can't do," Jim started, and Blair leaned back and looked over at Jim who sat next to him.
"Because it reminds you too much of Rob?" Blair guessed as he glanced down at Jim's uninjured wrist. Jim narrowed his eyes.
"What?"
"Your wrist," Blair nodded toward Jim's hand.
"You lost me somewhere, Chief. You want to lay down a trail of breadcrumbs?"
"Your wrist, you keep rubbing it, but it isn't hurt. You're remembering Rob, aren't you?" Blair asked. He could see the sudden tension in Jim's shoulders.
"This is about you and your inability to follow orders."
"Yeah, and it's about you and your over-protective streak."
"It's instinctive."
"Man, do you even listen when I talk to those USSP creeps? Guides have instincts too, and mine say to protect you and stay close to you," Blair snapped back. Jim had stopped himself from rubbing his wrist, but now he scratched at his stubbly beard.
"I can't lose you," he finally admitted, and Blair's chest tightened at the fear in his voice.
"Oh man, I can't lose you either; that's why I did that. I wouldn't put myself in danger if I had a choice. Not only am I really not into dying, but if I were in trouble, I trust you to come blasting in like the charge of the light brigade."
"I would," Jim said, and fingers found Blair's body again, this time moving more slowly as they crept across his thigh.
"Most of the light brigade died. It was a massacre, which makes it less than poetic in my book," Blair shivered as the fingers moved to the inside of his thigh and ran trails through his fine hairs.
"I'd still charge in," Jim said, and his hand moved to grip Blair's thigh as his other hand found Blair's hair. Blair squirmed as Jim kissed him, claiming his mouth fiercely as the hand on his thigh tightened. Giving up on talking, Blair focused on returning the kiss.
Eventually Jim pulled away, his eyes dark again, but this time with lust. "Shit," he cursed softly, and Blair thought for a minute that Jim was fumbling with his pants, but then the man pulled out a handcuff key. "I'm so sorry," he said as he reached under the blanket. Blair twisted himself to keep his hands out of reach.
"Leave them."
"But—" Jim stopped, truly looking at him, and Blair could feel himself blush. Of course, Jim's sense could probably pick up a lot more… like how turned on he was with Jim looking rough and dangerous and how much he liked being cuffed. Jim smiled seductively, and the hand exploring Blair's back pushed him forward, off the couch.
"Upstairs," Jim ordered, and Blair kicked his jeans off his foot before heading for the stairs. The blanket slipped off him halfway up, and Jim didn't even stop for to pick it up as he followed, his hands lingering on Blair's body: touching a hip, cupping his ass, brushing by an arm.
By the time Blair stood beside the bed, his cock stood hard and aching. Jim brought out the keys again, and Blair opened his mouth to protest.
"I won't hurt you, so let me make a few adjustments," Jim silenced him, and then a hand on his arm turned him toward the bed. He waited silently as Jim unlocked one wrist and pulled the shirt away. But rather than unlock the second wrist, Jim guided him onto the bed, settling him on his back before pushing his hands through the rail and locking the handcuffs again.
Blair squirmed as Jim turned away, slowly stripping his own clothes as he wandered the room.
"Oh man," Blair breathed as Jim stood in the light from the skylight, his muscles defined in shadow as he rummaged in the dresser. Jim turned and smiled, and even with the rough beard and earring, Blair could see tenderness in Jim that made him trust the man.
"See something you like, Sandburg?" he asked as he prowled closer to the bed. Blair swallowed.
Jim reached the bed and ran a finger up the bottom of Blair's foot. The warmth crawled up Blair's leg, leaving a phantom heat behind as he jerked. Jim's hand closed over his ankle, pressing it to the bed in warning before Jim took the other ankle and pushed Blair's legs apart.
"Oh fuck," Blair muttered as he watched the predator smiling down at him with a deadly charm that made his balls tighten. Oh yeah, he might not have been gay before Jim, but Blair had to admit that he couldn't ever think of going back to a woman after being the center of Jim's attention. It was like petting a tiger knowing that he could rip you apart and the only reason he didn't was because he liked you. Jim rested his weight on Blair's spread ankles.
"Got a problem there, Chief?" he asked with a wicked smile, one that promised practical jokes and inappropriate touching. Blair groaned.
"Oh man, don't torture the guide here," he begged.
"Oh, the guide smells like he enjoys torture, and he certainly has earned some," Jim added dryly after a second. Then he started crawling onto the bed, his body weaving as if to some silent music, and Blair lost the ability to speak. He could only stare.
"Well, that's one way to shut you up," Jim commented as he settled his weight down onto Blair, their cocks nestled together between their bodies as Jim reached down and kissed Blair. Eagerly opening his mouth, Blair groaned as Jim slowly arched his back making tiny thrusts that made their cocks brush each other. Blair dug his heels into the mattress and tried to hump up into that glorious warmth, but Jim hooked his ankle with his foot, pushing it back down and trapping Blair flat on his back, all without breaking the kiss.
Only when Blair quieted, his body and mouth accepting Jim's attention did Jim pull back.
"Just lay back and enjoy, Junior," Jim chuckled as he moved his mouth to Blair's neck, still making those tiny thrusts that rubbed Blair in all the right ways. Fisting his hands, Blair twisted and rolled his hips and struggled to thrust up just enough to end the maddeningly slow motion that teased and tortured without letting him come. Unfortunately, Jim's bulk held him down, and when Jim opened his legs, he forced Blair to open even more so that Blair lost his leverage.
Working slowly, Jim tasted and nipped his way from Blair's ear down to his nipple, sliding down Blair's sweaty body, and Blair could only gasp for air as the sucking on his nipple melted all thought. By the time Jim stopped and sat up, Blair could only blink owlishly as he tried to form words from his unhappy whines.
"Shh," Jim shushed him, and Blair panted as he tried to gather his scattered thoughts. He hadn't yet managed to rediscover speech before something cool brushed the head of his cock and then trailed down toward his hole. Throwing his legs open even more, Blair made a strangled sound as a finger circled before wiggling inside.
The added pressure from a finger rubbing against his prostate pushed Blair past pleasure to the point of frustrated pain, and he gasped. Sealing his eyes closed, he clenched his fists.
"Hold on, Chief," Jim offered, and Blair could hear the change in tone. Before he could figure out the meaning of the words, something hot and wet slipped over his cock. The sucking threw him over into a moment of rapture where all that existed was one rush of release after another as his body jerked against the handcuffs and the warm hands pressing down on his legs.
Blair felt his body jerk to completion with a detachment that reminded him of floating in the warm pond out back of the farmhouse where Ethan had taught him to ride a horse as a child. The mattress tilted, and Blair laid splayed open, too tired to even bring his legs together.
"Chief, you okay?" A hand brushed away damp curls that stuck to his skin.
"Holy fuck," Blair managed to say, and really, he thought that might just be literal. Jim chuckled.
"Not bad for an old man, huh?" Jim asked, and Blair struggled to get one sleepy eye open. He found Jim standing next to the bed lazily stroking a thick erection of his own.
"Cassanova should take lessons," Blair agreed as he watched Jim roll his head back, making the front of his neck arch out as he stroked a little faster. Eyeing the erection, Blair considered the possibility that his anal-retentive roommate was about to make a sizable mess. Then again, he was handcuffed to the bed, so he could only lie and watch with appreciation as Jim stroked faster, small grunts coming now. Then Jim started, an arc of white splattering across Blair's stomach before the next spasms sent semen onto the bed.
Jim finished and then fell forward, his hands braced on the side of the bed as he caught his breath. Blair looked down and watched as Jim used his thumb to rub the white into his skin.
"Man, you *are* feeling territorial," Blair said as he watched the fluids disappear.
"You're imagining things, Sandburg," Jim said as he sat on the edge of the bed.
"Uh-huh." Blair didn't even bother to fake his belief.
"So I need to go and do some paperwork," Jim commented as he retrieved the key from the side table and reached over to unlock the cuffs. "Do you want me to drop you at the university?"
Blair opened his eyes, looking at Jim sharply before getting control of his body with a few deep breaths. "Nah, I've got all my handouts photocopied, so I think I may take an afternoon to recover." To prove his point, Blair remained laid out on the bed, his legs splayed and his arms resting on the pillow over his head. Jim cocked his head and looked at him.
"No work at the station, Junior?"
"I got ahead with the semester starting, and don't even think about trying to bribe me into writing your reports," Blair laughed.
"I was considering blackmail," Jim answered as he got up, planting a slap on Blair's knee.
"Bully," Blair said as he let his eyes fall closed, even if sleep was the farthest thing from his mind. "So, when will you be back?"
"Not sure. Why?" Jim asked as he pulled clean clothes out of the dresser. Blair cracked an eye open.
"Thought I might have Charlie over," Blair answered as casually as he could. Jim stopped, a blue shirt hanging from his hand.
"If he brings drugs over here, I will personally wring his neck and then hide his body where no one will ever find it," Jim answered in a tone that probably would have sent Rafe running. Blair just rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, yeah," Blair answered as he closed his eyes again.
"And I'll murder him just as quick if you still look like that when he shows up," Jim added darkly as his bare feet padded down the stairs. Blair didn't answer as he lay on the bed and planned ways to use his free afternoon to untangle the mess that had become his life before his sentinel found out and actually did murder someone.
Jim/Blair
Blair watched as Jim drove so slowly and carefully that other drivers passed with blaring horns that made his Sentinel's jaw clench. He half expected Jim to carry through with his rather elaborate threat to arrest him, but instead of pulling onto Pender Street, Jim turned on 17th and headed toward Prospect.
Blair shifted a little to ease the strain on his arms, but he stilled when something that sounded suspiciously like a growl came from the other side of the cab. Looking over, Blair could see Jim's fists clutching the wheel so tightly that his knuckles were white and the bones stretched the skin until his hands looked faintly inhuman.
Jim turned onto Prospect near their place and continued driving like an eighty year old woman with a new set of china in back. Pulling into the parking space, Jim got out, and Blair watched him walk around the front of the truck with rolling, graceful motion that reminded him of an angry cat. He jerked the passenger side door open and reached over Blair to unhook the seat belt.
"Jim, I don't think the neighbors will be amused with you dragging me around handcuffed," Blair said softly. Jim stopped, his arm still reaching across Blair's body and a single flickering glance up the only evidence that he'd heard. When hands pulled at him, Blair slid out of the truck without complaint, rolling his eyes when Jim slung a jacket over his shoulders.
"Yeah, a jacket when it's so hot outside plastic lawn chairs are melting," he muttered, but Jim just tightened his grip on Blair's arm as he pulled his guide into the building, and Blair bit his tongue.
The truth was that as much as he wanted to kick Jim's ass for manhandling him, a teeny, tiny, small little piece of him warmed at the possessiveness. Of course, that didn't mean he was going to get his Sentinel get away with handcuffing him and shoving him in the truck every time Blair did something he didn't like. If he let Jim get away with that, he was going to spend a whole lot of time handcuffed… and bondage was not nearly as much fun out of the bedroom as in it.
"I can't believe you," Jim finally spat out as the elevator rose.
"Worked," Blair answered softly with an awkward shrug. The elevator doors opened, and Blair followed as Jim led him down the hall. When Jim trapped him between the wall and his own body to unlock the door, Blair felt the stirrings of suspicion. Jim's focused on the key, his hand gripping the metal tightly as he jammed it at the lock twice before getting it in.
"Jim?" Blair leaned toward his Sentinel, but Jim turned his eyes away as he pushed the door open.
"In," Jim ordered tersely. Blair slipped into the loft and shrugged his shoulders to make the jacket slide to the floor. Then he watched as Jim locked the door before stalking over to the windows where he closed each blind and checked every lock. Sighing, Blair toed off his sneakers, kicking them under the coffee table before he sat on the couch and pulled his feet under him.
Jim gave him a sharp look at the movement, and now Blair could see black eyes ringed in blue as Jim scented the air. A movement caught Blair's eye, and he looked down to see Jim slowly rubbing his right wrist, his hand twisting first one way and then the other.
"Jim, are you hurt?" Blair asked, noticing for the first time the trail of slimy mud down one knee. Without even answering, Jim did a circuit through the bathroom and kitchen, and Blair leaned back, rolling his eyes at the thought of a bad guy hiding in with the color-coded Tupperware.
"You know, you could thank me for getting us both out of there," Blair shouted as Jim went to subdue the evil dust bunnies on the second floor. If they were going to have a fight, he wanted to have it and get it over with; however, his cranky sentinel didn't even bother answering.
Blair closed his eyes and tilted his head back on the couch. "She was a girl looking for her father. She wasn't actually any threat. If you'd done your cop thing with her, you would have been stuck fighting your way past their guards. I took a risk, yes, but it was the best move we could have made. No way would I have done anything like that if Carasco or some random thug had walked in the greenhouse." Blair stopped and gasped as hot breath flowed over his neck.
Opening his eyes, he found Jim leaning over him, black eyes staring down while Jim rested his hands on the back of the couch on either side of Blair's head.
"Man, I was just doing the right thing," Blair said as Jim's eyes moved down his body. Then hands took over, fingers running through his hair, down his face and around his neck. Clumsy hands pulled at the buttons of his shirt, unfastening some and ripping others before hot hands ran along his chest, rubbing over tender, peaked nipples and reaching around to caress his back.
"Oh fuck," Blair breathed as Jim touched every bit of him. The rational part of Blair's brain pointed out that his sentinel only wanted to make sure the guide was whole and safe; however that half of his brain went on strike as Jim's hands moved down, fumbling with his jeans.
"Uncuff me and I'll help," Blair promised, his cock starting to ache with the pressure. Jim ignored him. Finally his jeans were off, and sentinel hands mapped the rest of him. Gasping with need as fingers ghosted over curves and skimmed across his skin leaving tingling trails, Blair arched up into Jim's touch. But for every movement he made, Jim matched him so that he teased without ever giving enough contact for Blair to do more than writhe in need.
"You're killing me here," Blair finally gasped, and that seemed to shake Jim out of his silence.
"You could have been killed," Jim growled, and now hands settled at Blair's hips, holding him so tightly that Blair couldn't thrust up.
"I took a risk," Blair admitted, and now he could watch as the dark iris of Jim's eye widened. "But it was the best way out of the situation," he hurried to add.
"You could have been killed," Jim accused him again, standing up. Again, the left hand started rubbing the opposing wrist, and Blair watched the gesture. Jim's wrist wasn't injured, but he had a pretty good idea why it bothered him. Sentinels had remarkably good sensory memories, able to relive a moment so that they felt and saw and smelled everything.
"I'm safe, and I'm right here," Blair said as he leaned forward, frustrated that the handcuffs kept him from reaching out to Jim.
"Damn it," Jim snarled as he turned away and charged back to the kitchen. Blair watched as he yanked open the refrigerator hard enough to make a take out menu flutter to the floor as the magnet holding it fell. He grabbed a cold beer and then slammed the refrigerator, leaning on it so that Blair could only see his back.
"Man, I'm the guide. You gotta talk to me here," Blair tried. Jim turned on him with such a fierce expression, that Blair instantly shut up.
"You're not a cop, Junior. You're not a cop or a soldier and you have no business pulling shit like that. On the job, I am in charge, and I recall telling you to stay behind me."
Blair took a deep breath as he gathered his arguments; of course, naked and handcuffed wasn't really a good starting point for a serious conversation.
"If some thug had walked in, I would have been totally behind you, probably cowering and praying to at least a dozen gods, but it wasn't some thug," Blair explained calmly. It didn't impress Jim.
"You think you can look at a person and tell if they're dangerous or not? Chief, you have some growing up to do."
"Don't even start that crap. I understand the big, bad world, and that doesn't mean I'm going to flinch away from danger. What kind of a guide would I be if I didn't actually back you up?"
"I don't need your back up," Jim snapped before taking a long drink of beer. For a second, Blair felt as though he'd been kicked in the guts, his stomach tightening until he didn't know if he wanted to cry or be sick. If he'd had a chance, he would have walked out the door, and as he glared at Jim, he could see the smug expression on the man's face slowly turn to guilt. Jim's eyes darted away to the closed balcony door and then to the silent television.
"I'm your guide, and that means I back you up whether you need me or not," Blair finally answered quietly.
"Fuck." Jim leaned against the counter and looked as though he had aged ten years in a single moment. "Chief…" Jim stopped.
"Man, I can imagine that you're feeling overwhelmed and stressed and more than a little cranky right now, but I'm your guide, and that means I am going to follow you into the field."
"I don't want you in the field," Jim snapped back.
"Oh man, you take the cake. You think I don't feel the same way?" Blair finally exploded. "Don't you think I worry every time you go off by yourself and leave me wondering if you'll have a zone or a spike or just get shot in the fucking back like that cop a couple of years ago? Do you really think you have some sort of fucking monopoly on being completely freaked out?"
"It's my job," Jim said as he stepped closer, his voice low.
"It's my job too; I'm the guide."
"It's not—"
"Don't fucking go there. Remember Ms. Cassidy, the rape victim that I reassured by pulling out the sentinel card? Remember how pissed you were because you didn't want her looking at you like you were some sort of Superman? You were right! You were right to slam me into that wall… you were right to call me on that hero worship thing. You aren't Superman; you're just a damn good cop with sentinel senses. So, you need to stop thinking you're Superman and that you can do this shit alone." Blair didn't realize he had stood up, but he found himself chest to chest with Jim, his jeans still bunched around one ankle and his shirt hanging from his handcuffed wrists.
"You are not a cop," Jim repeated, the muscle in his jaw bulging in frustration.
"But I'm a guide," Blair countered. "I'm a cold guide," he pointed out as he eyed the air conditioning vent that sent chilly slivers of air across his bare chest. Jim went over to the chair and grabbed the blanket draped over the back before coming back and sliding it over Blair's shoulders. Then a strong arm guided him back to the couch, sitting him down.
"Chief, there are some things you can't do," Jim started, and Blair leaned back and looked over at Jim who sat next to him.
"Because it reminds you too much of Rob?" Blair guessed as he glanced down at Jim's uninjured wrist. Jim narrowed his eyes.
"What?"
"Your wrist," Blair nodded toward Jim's hand.
"You lost me somewhere, Chief. You want to lay down a trail of breadcrumbs?"
"Your wrist, you keep rubbing it, but it isn't hurt. You're remembering Rob, aren't you?" Blair asked. He could see the sudden tension in Jim's shoulders.
"This is about you and your inability to follow orders."
"Yeah, and it's about you and your over-protective streak."
"It's instinctive."
"Man, do you even listen when I talk to those USSP creeps? Guides have instincts too, and mine say to protect you and stay close to you," Blair snapped back. Jim had stopped himself from rubbing his wrist, but now he scratched at his stubbly beard.
"I can't lose you," he finally admitted, and Blair's chest tightened at the fear in his voice.
"Oh man, I can't lose you either; that's why I did that. I wouldn't put myself in danger if I had a choice. Not only am I really not into dying, but if I were in trouble, I trust you to come blasting in like the charge of the light brigade."
"I would," Jim said, and fingers found Blair's body again, this time moving more slowly as they crept across his thigh.
"Most of the light brigade died. It was a massacre, which makes it less than poetic in my book," Blair shivered as the fingers moved to the inside of his thigh and ran trails through his fine hairs.
"I'd still charge in," Jim said, and his hand moved to grip Blair's thigh as his other hand found Blair's hair. Blair squirmed as Jim kissed him, claiming his mouth fiercely as the hand on his thigh tightened. Giving up on talking, Blair focused on returning the kiss.
Eventually Jim pulled away, his eyes dark again, but this time with lust. "Shit," he cursed softly, and Blair thought for a minute that Jim was fumbling with his pants, but then the man pulled out a handcuff key. "I'm so sorry," he said as he reached under the blanket. Blair twisted himself to keep his hands out of reach.
"Leave them."
"But—" Jim stopped, truly looking at him, and Blair could feel himself blush. Of course, Jim's sense could probably pick up a lot more… like how turned on he was with Jim looking rough and dangerous and how much he liked being cuffed. Jim smiled seductively, and the hand exploring Blair's back pushed him forward, off the couch.
"Upstairs," Jim ordered, and Blair kicked his jeans off his foot before heading for the stairs. The blanket slipped off him halfway up, and Jim didn't even stop for to pick it up as he followed, his hands lingering on Blair's body: touching a hip, cupping his ass, brushing by an arm.
By the time Blair stood beside the bed, his cock stood hard and aching. Jim brought out the keys again, and Blair opened his mouth to protest.
"I won't hurt you, so let me make a few adjustments," Jim silenced him, and then a hand on his arm turned him toward the bed. He waited silently as Jim unlocked one wrist and pulled the shirt away. But rather than unlock the second wrist, Jim guided him onto the bed, settling him on his back before pushing his hands through the rail and locking the handcuffs again.
Blair squirmed as Jim turned away, slowly stripping his own clothes as he wandered the room.
"Oh man," Blair breathed as Jim stood in the light from the skylight, his muscles defined in shadow as he rummaged in the dresser. Jim turned and smiled, and even with the rough beard and earring, Blair could see tenderness in Jim that made him trust the man.
"See something you like, Sandburg?" he asked as he prowled closer to the bed. Blair swallowed.
Jim reached the bed and ran a finger up the bottom of Blair's foot. The warmth crawled up Blair's leg, leaving a phantom heat behind as he jerked. Jim's hand closed over his ankle, pressing it to the bed in warning before Jim took the other ankle and pushed Blair's legs apart.
"Oh fuck," Blair muttered as he watched the predator smiling down at him with a deadly charm that made his balls tighten. Oh yeah, he might not have been gay before Jim, but Blair had to admit that he couldn't ever think of going back to a woman after being the center of Jim's attention. It was like petting a tiger knowing that he could rip you apart and the only reason he didn't was because he liked you. Jim rested his weight on Blair's spread ankles.
"Got a problem there, Chief?" he asked with a wicked smile, one that promised practical jokes and inappropriate touching. Blair groaned.
"Oh man, don't torture the guide here," he begged.
"Oh, the guide smells like he enjoys torture, and he certainly has earned some," Jim added dryly after a second. Then he started crawling onto the bed, his body weaving as if to some silent music, and Blair lost the ability to speak. He could only stare.
"Well, that's one way to shut you up," Jim commented as he settled his weight down onto Blair, their cocks nestled together between their bodies as Jim reached down and kissed Blair. Eagerly opening his mouth, Blair groaned as Jim slowly arched his back making tiny thrusts that made their cocks brush each other. Blair dug his heels into the mattress and tried to hump up into that glorious warmth, but Jim hooked his ankle with his foot, pushing it back down and trapping Blair flat on his back, all without breaking the kiss.
Only when Blair quieted, his body and mouth accepting Jim's attention did Jim pull back.
"Just lay back and enjoy, Junior," Jim chuckled as he moved his mouth to Blair's neck, still making those tiny thrusts that rubbed Blair in all the right ways. Fisting his hands, Blair twisted and rolled his hips and struggled to thrust up just enough to end the maddeningly slow motion that teased and tortured without letting him come. Unfortunately, Jim's bulk held him down, and when Jim opened his legs, he forced Blair to open even more so that Blair lost his leverage.
Working slowly, Jim tasted and nipped his way from Blair's ear down to his nipple, sliding down Blair's sweaty body, and Blair could only gasp for air as the sucking on his nipple melted all thought. By the time Jim stopped and sat up, Blair could only blink owlishly as he tried to form words from his unhappy whines.
"Shh," Jim shushed him, and Blair panted as he tried to gather his scattered thoughts. He hadn't yet managed to rediscover speech before something cool brushed the head of his cock and then trailed down toward his hole. Throwing his legs open even more, Blair made a strangled sound as a finger circled before wiggling inside.
The added pressure from a finger rubbing against his prostate pushed Blair past pleasure to the point of frustrated pain, and he gasped. Sealing his eyes closed, he clenched his fists.
"Hold on, Chief," Jim offered, and Blair could hear the change in tone. Before he could figure out the meaning of the words, something hot and wet slipped over his cock. The sucking threw him over into a moment of rapture where all that existed was one rush of release after another as his body jerked against the handcuffs and the warm hands pressing down on his legs.
Blair felt his body jerk to completion with a detachment that reminded him of floating in the warm pond out back of the farmhouse where Ethan had taught him to ride a horse as a child. The mattress tilted, and Blair laid splayed open, too tired to even bring his legs together.
"Chief, you okay?" A hand brushed away damp curls that stuck to his skin.
"Holy fuck," Blair managed to say, and really, he thought that might just be literal. Jim chuckled.
"Not bad for an old man, huh?" Jim asked, and Blair struggled to get one sleepy eye open. He found Jim standing next to the bed lazily stroking a thick erection of his own.
"Cassanova should take lessons," Blair agreed as he watched Jim roll his head back, making the front of his neck arch out as he stroked a little faster. Eyeing the erection, Blair considered the possibility that his anal-retentive roommate was about to make a sizable mess. Then again, he was handcuffed to the bed, so he could only lie and watch with appreciation as Jim stroked faster, small grunts coming now. Then Jim started, an arc of white splattering across Blair's stomach before the next spasms sent semen onto the bed.
Jim finished and then fell forward, his hands braced on the side of the bed as he caught his breath. Blair looked down and watched as Jim used his thumb to rub the white into his skin.
"Man, you *are* feeling territorial," Blair said as he watched the fluids disappear.
"You're imagining things, Sandburg," Jim said as he sat on the edge of the bed.
"Uh-huh." Blair didn't even bother to fake his belief.
"So I need to go and do some paperwork," Jim commented as he retrieved the key from the side table and reached over to unlock the cuffs. "Do you want me to drop you at the university?"
Blair opened his eyes, looking at Jim sharply before getting control of his body with a few deep breaths. "Nah, I've got all my handouts photocopied, so I think I may take an afternoon to recover." To prove his point, Blair remained laid out on the bed, his legs splayed and his arms resting on the pillow over his head. Jim cocked his head and looked at him.
"No work at the station, Junior?"
"I got ahead with the semester starting, and don't even think about trying to bribe me into writing your reports," Blair laughed.
"I was considering blackmail," Jim answered as he got up, planting a slap on Blair's knee.
"Bully," Blair said as he let his eyes fall closed, even if sleep was the farthest thing from his mind. "So, when will you be back?"
"Not sure. Why?" Jim asked as he pulled clean clothes out of the dresser. Blair cracked an eye open.
"Thought I might have Charlie over," Blair answered as casually as he could. Jim stopped, a blue shirt hanging from his hand.
"If he brings drugs over here, I will personally wring his neck and then hide his body where no one will ever find it," Jim answered in a tone that probably would have sent Rafe running. Blair just rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, yeah," Blair answered as he closed his eyes again.
"And I'll murder him just as quick if you still look like that when he shows up," Jim added darkly as his bare feet padded down the stairs. Blair didn't answer as he lay on the bed and planned ways to use his free afternoon to untangle the mess that had become his life before his sentinel found out and actually did murder someone.
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Date: 2006-06-11 05:38 am (UTC)XXXOOO
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Date: 2006-06-11 09:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-06-11 06:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-06-11 09:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-06-11 09:16 pm (UTC)Having seen the bloopers, though, I don't think Richard Burgi wonders why we slash them! *g* =>}
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Date: 2006-06-11 09:17 pm (UTC)Blair sweetie... forget them... all I care about is *you*. Are *you* okay?
Gotta wonder how much tape that man ruined with such lovliness.
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Date: 2006-06-11 09:21 pm (UTC)Garett must've gone NUTS around him. LMAO! =>}
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Date: 2006-06-11 08:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-06-11 09:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-06-12 02:07 am (UTC)I was in the mood for a change of icons, again, lol. You may snag if you like. Made a new Xander one too. Didn't do much to the picture mainly cropped and enhanced a little. You've gotta take a look at
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Date: 2006-06-11 08:26 am (UTC)Deleted and reposted because I can't spell, even when I preview!
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Date: 2006-06-11 09:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-06-11 08:43 am (UTC)I like how you mixed up the interpersonal fight with the sex... you showed that even though the bodies were willing, the minds had some serious issues to work out. Oh, and marvelous job with the sense-memory thing and Jim's wrist. It made perfect sense that Blair would see the movement and figure out Jim's state of mind. Very logical and very well thought out.
And what can I say? Jim marking Blair? Jim hauling Blair off to their bed like a caveperson? Oh so wonderful. *G* I'm up at 3:40 am reading this, and I'll be having very nice dreams, just like Luna. Now then, I can't remember... has Naomi actually shown up yet, or was that just in your mini-story? It seems just about time for her to put an interfering oar in the waters...
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Date: 2006-06-11 09:14 pm (UTC)And no Naomi yet. I"m starting to wonder if she's going to show up in this story. I often write dozens of scenes and snippets and then less than half end up in the actual fic, so it wouldn't be unusual for a snippet from the universe to sort of disappear.
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Date: 2006-06-11 12:02 pm (UTC)Nooooo... I don't think so! That was lush thank you... a little light porn to help the weekend along... ::smiles::
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Date: 2006-06-11 09:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-06-11 09:16 pm (UTC)And yeah, my guys are not particulary flowery or honey/sweety/babe, but they do love each other even if Jim's big "morning after" conversation after their first night was "you shed like a cocker spaniel"
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Date: 2006-06-11 07:29 pm (UTC)I love how Blair seems to not only understand but to accept the primitive in Jim. Wonderful as always, I'll look forward to more when you can and thank you for updating.
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Date: 2006-06-11 09:19 pm (UTC)