J/B Sniplet for laurie_ky's bday (PG)
happy birthday to laurie_ky! (janedavitt slipped the word. :)
Laundry Day
Jim waited until Sandburg had gone out on an errand before making his move.
He felt a little underhanded sneaking around grabbing Blair's stuff from his drawers-a bunch of clean boxers, a pile of socks, and a stack of soft, ragged flannel shirts and jeans-but, hey, it was justified. They'd been fucking for two weeks now, but not sleeping together, and Jim was done with trying to be subtle about it. Hell, subtle was never his strong suit, anyway.
By the time he'd tucked everything into the spaces he'd made in his own bureau, sneaky had given way to a quiet dread in the pit of his stomach. Blair would come home and freak out. Blair would tell him the blow-jobs were all very well and good, but he needed his own space. He was a fucking free spirit, after all.
Jim didn't have any right to tie him down, to push his conservative, uptight ways on him and try to box him in, try to hold onto something that wasn't anything real or permanent, after all.
Giving in to panic, Jim had already plucked Blair's stuff back out of his drawers and was heading downstairs with his arms full when the door to the loft ground open, startling him into dropping everything in a flurry of cotton. Jim ducked his head, heat spreading from his chest and straight up to his ears.
Blair walked over and stared up at him and the pile of clothing littering the stairs.
"So, uh, Jim. Something going on I should know about?"
Jim ran a hand over the back of his neck. "I suppose you won't let me get away with saying it's laundry day."
"Not likely," Blair said, "seeing as we just did it all yesterday." He bent down and picked up a pair of boxers that had slithered down to the bottom step. "Boxer fetish?"
Jim snorted and looked away.
"This is all mine." Blair started picking up the clothing, starting from the bottom, and Jim did the same from the top. They met halfway with their arms full.
"I, uh-I was going to give you some room in my dresser. So you didn't have to run down for a change all the time. Then I thought, well, you might be pissed about me touching your stuff. And, anyway-" Words just dried up on him, and Jim waited for the inevitable explosion.
"That's a pretty good idea," Blair said slowly. "If it's okay-I mean, it's your space, and I know how sentinels are about their territory-"
"Oh, c'mon. That's not-with you, it's not-"
"-unless you want me in your space."
Jim looked down at the tell-tale evidence in his arms, then back into Blair's blue eyes.
"Oh," Blair said.
"Yeah."
"Well, uh, good, then."
"Great."
Jim turned quickly, trying to hide the grin he could feel spreading across his face. He heard Blair stepping up behind him, and then Blair tackled him onto to the bed, forcing him to let go of three pairs of jeans, a handful of socks, and two shirts. A pair of boxers landed on his head, probably from Blair's pile.
Jim rolled over and grabbed Blair's hand to pull him down into his arms. Blair smiled at him and said, "You're going to have to refold all this stuff."
"Okay," Jim said with what he knew was a dopey grin.
"And I want the whole top drawer."
"You got it."
"And I get the right side of the bed-"
"Not a chance, Sparky." Jim turned Blair over onto his back and kissed him. "We get the middle."
He could tell from Blair's smile that they had a deal.
......................
2008.10.02
Laundry Day
Jim waited until Sandburg had gone out on an errand before making his move.
He felt a little underhanded sneaking around grabbing Blair's stuff from his drawers-a bunch of clean boxers, a pile of socks, and a stack of soft, ragged flannel shirts and jeans-but, hey, it was justified. They'd been fucking for two weeks now, but not sleeping together, and Jim was done with trying to be subtle about it. Hell, subtle was never his strong suit, anyway.
By the time he'd tucked everything into the spaces he'd made in his own bureau, sneaky had given way to a quiet dread in the pit of his stomach. Blair would come home and freak out. Blair would tell him the blow-jobs were all very well and good, but he needed his own space. He was a fucking free spirit, after all.
Jim didn't have any right to tie him down, to push his conservative, uptight ways on him and try to box him in, try to hold onto something that wasn't anything real or permanent, after all.
Giving in to panic, Jim had already plucked Blair's stuff back out of his drawers and was heading downstairs with his arms full when the door to the loft ground open, startling him into dropping everything in a flurry of cotton. Jim ducked his head, heat spreading from his chest and straight up to his ears.
Blair walked over and stared up at him and the pile of clothing littering the stairs.
"So, uh, Jim. Something going on I should know about?"
Jim ran a hand over the back of his neck. "I suppose you won't let me get away with saying it's laundry day."
"Not likely," Blair said, "seeing as we just did it all yesterday." He bent down and picked up a pair of boxers that had slithered down to the bottom step. "Boxer fetish?"
Jim snorted and looked away.
"This is all mine." Blair started picking up the clothing, starting from the bottom, and Jim did the same from the top. They met halfway with their arms full.
"I, uh-I was going to give you some room in my dresser. So you didn't have to run down for a change all the time. Then I thought, well, you might be pissed about me touching your stuff. And, anyway-" Words just dried up on him, and Jim waited for the inevitable explosion.
"That's a pretty good idea," Blair said slowly. "If it's okay-I mean, it's your space, and I know how sentinels are about their territory-"
"Oh, c'mon. That's not-with you, it's not-"
"-unless you want me in your space."
Jim looked down at the tell-tale evidence in his arms, then back into Blair's blue eyes.
"Oh," Blair said.
"Yeah."
"Well, uh, good, then."
"Great."
Jim turned quickly, trying to hide the grin he could feel spreading across his face. He heard Blair stepping up behind him, and then Blair tackled him onto to the bed, forcing him to let go of three pairs of jeans, a handful of socks, and two shirts. A pair of boxers landed on his head, probably from Blair's pile.
Jim rolled over and grabbed Blair's hand to pull him down into his arms. Blair smiled at him and said, "You're going to have to refold all this stuff."
"Okay," Jim said with what he knew was a dopey grin.
"And I want the whole top drawer."
"You got it."
"And I get the right side of the bed-"
"Not a chance, Sparky." Jim turned Blair over onto his back and kissed him. "We get the middle."
He could tell from Blair's smile that they had a deal.
......................
2008.10.02