Missing You
Little Sentinel/Stargate break from GRE's, warnings for slash and edible men apply. Not a part of my Unwritten series, just a little smut. Enjoy!
Blair unpacked the last few carvings and hung them on the wall. He still had to unpack all his books, but otherwise everything was back the way it should be, except for his friendship with Jim. Something about getting kicked out of your own home, drowning, and watching your best friend suck face with the woman who killed you sort of put a damper on a friendship. Yeah, Jim had apologized, hauled all his stuff up from the basement, but who was to say he wouldn't fly into a rage again and kick Blair out over some stupid misunderstanding? Hell, he wouldn't even talk about the vision they had shared.
He heard Jim coming down the stairs, and thought he was going to come talk to Blair, but instead Jim walked right past his room and opened the front door. "Can I help you?" Jim asked gruffly.
"Um, I hope so," said a frighteningly familiar voice. "I'm looking for Blair Sandburg; maybe I have the wrong address?"
"Danny?" Blair whispered. He stepped out of his room and saw the living ghost at the front door. "God, Danny!" He ran up and grabbed Daniel, threw his arms around him. "They told me you were dead!"
"I know, I'm sorry," Daniel whispered, kissing his cheek, his hair, breathing in his scent. "I missed you, Blair."
For one crazy second, Blair was kissing Daniel back, resting in that comfortable nook against Daniel's collarbone. Then he abruptly remembered Jim was watching and he pulled away, red-faced. "Sorry. Jim, this is Daniel Jackson, an old friend of mine. Danny, Jim is my roommate. Danny, what are you doing here? What happened?"
"Can I come in?" Daniel asked. His hand was still resting on Blair's arm, and Blair found his own hand on Daniel's waist, trying to reassure himself that Daniel was real. God, how ironic. A couple of weeks ago he had come back from the dead and now here was Daniel, alive and well more than a year after those damn soldiers had come to the warehouse to regretfully inform him as Daniel's official next of kin...
Daniel accepted a cup of tea, breathing in the smell of it, sipping it carefully. "Chrysanthemum. Man, I missed this."
"So tell me, what happened?" Blair asked.
Daniel shook his head with a smile. "Long story, Blair. I wish I could give you the details. Let's just say I've been out on an expedition."
"They told me you were dead, though," Blair pressed. "I mean, the Air Force did. What the hell were you doing working with the Air Force, anyway? Last I heard you were off to give that lecture at--"
"Yeah, well, I got a little sidetracked," said Daniel. "Look, I just got back to the country and found out my apartment was gone; little problem of me not being around to pay the rent and all. I was wondering if you kept any of my stuff, so I can start piecing my life back together."
"Sure," said Blair. "I mean, I don't have much, I lost most of my stuff when the place where I was living sort of blew up, but--"
"Blew up?" Daniel's eyes widened and he checked Blair over. "I noticed you're not breathing so hot; were you hurt? Are you okay?"
Blair opened his mouth, closed it again, acutely aware of Jim's eyes boring into the back of his head. "I'm okay, Danny. Just a little pneumonia."
Daniel nodded, relieved. "That's good. Look, I'm going to be in town for a few days and I was hoping we could catch up. And I have something to talk to you about later; I may have a job offer that's right up your alley. But look, I haven't seen you in ages. How've you been? How's that Burton project you were working on?"
"Wait, just hold on a second," Blair protested. "I thought you were dead; you have to tell me something."
Daniel's fingers curled in Blair's hair. "It's a long story. And like I said, I can't go into details." He glanced back at Jim.
"Oh, don't mind me," said Jim tightly. "Sandburg and I don't keep secrets from each other." He watched Daniel with his arms crossed.
Daniel stared at Jim and slowly removed his hand from Blair's hair. "Yeah, well, I should probably get back to the hotel. Why don't you come by and see me later? I'm staying at the Marriott."
Blair hugged him again and showed him to the door. "God, I can't believe it. I'll come by later tonight; we can catch up."
He watched Daniel disappear down the stairs until Jim closed the door. "What the hell was that about?" Jim asked.
"Danny and I were old friends; I've known him... wow, almost half my life now. He's an archaeologist and anthropologist, he has the most amazing mind... See, we both had what most people would call crackpot theories, and any time I wanted a book or primary source from the library, he had it checked out or reserved, so finally one night I made a commando raid on his dorm room and we sort of hit it off."
"He was researching Sentinels too?" Jim asked, grinding his jaw.
"No, Danny's big thing was ancient civilizations and their technology, how a lot of different cultures suddenly got a massive rush of knowledge around the same time, and then fell into disarray. His theory was that there was some outside source for the information, some other culture, well, aliens, actually..."
"Aliens, Chief?" Jim's tone was withering.
Blair blushed and hurried to say, "Yeah, well, Danny explains it a whole lot better than I do, and you should see some of the primary sources he found. I mean, the guy is brilliant. Whether or not you believe the bit about aliens, the facts are pretty convincing. Anyway, one day these Air Force guys showed up at the warehouse and told me he was dead, that he died serving his country, which was a crock of shit because Danny wouldn't know his country if it bit him in the ass... God, what were their names? Koala? Kawalsky, that was it. Kawalsky and O'Neill. I remember because I was having a complete nervous breakdown, panic attack and everything, and O'Neill talked me through it and said any geek friend of Jackson's was okay by him, told me I should call him if I needed anything, and gave me his home number because he was retiring. Never called him, though. I wonder if I even still have his number?"
"He must be some friend," said Jim tightly, "to list you as his next of kin. Looked like you two were pretty close."
Blair blushed. "Jim..."
"I thought you liked girls, Chief. Or were you just keeping up appearances?"
"See, this is why I didn't tell you. I knew you'd freak out about it," said Blair. "I really do like girls. I just also like guys, sometimes. Mostly just Danny; he and I were together off and on for almost twelve years." He held his hands out in protest. "Don't worry, Jim, I'm not going to come onto you or anything. There's no reason to feel uncomfortable. I was just scared, because you were a cop and ex-military and everything, that you wouldn't want to live together or even be friends if you thought I was gay. And there's sort of never been a good time to bring it up."
"Anything else you're keeping from me, Sandburg?"
Blair shook his head. "Look, Jim, I'm sorry, it's just I've had a lot of friendships with straight guys break off because they were worried I'd start coming onto them or something; so I stopped telling people. It was just never worth it to be out; when you're bi, you get it from both ends -- no pun intended -- the straight people think you're a deviant and the gay community thinks you're betraying them by having any sort of heterosexual leanings. You get shut out everywhere. I'm sorry Jim, after... after what happened, you know I wouldn't keep anything important from you."
Jim rubbed his hand over his mouth. "Yeah, Chief. Sure."
***
Daniel opened the door to Blair and smiled uncertainly at his old lover. Daniel himself had reason to be depressed and exhausted; he'd just been ripped from his home on Abydos, he didn't know if he'd ever see his wife again, but Blair had always been indestructible, unfailingly optimistic, and now he looked... ill. Beaten. Daniel wrapped Blair in another hug and hoped between the two of them that they could find some way back to their old cheer.
"Have you eaten yet?" Blair asked. "We could go grab something. What are you hungry for?"
"Anything that doesn't taste like chicken," Daniel said, smiling at his private joke.
Blair, being Blair, therefore took Daniel to an amazing little deli with outdoor seating, and of course, Blair had chosen it because they served tongue. The roast beef sandwich with mustard was delicious, though. "So come on, Danny, you have to tell me something. I mean, they told me you were dead. That O'Neill guy really hated telling me, I don't think he would have said it as a practical joke."
"Jack told you himself?" Daniel asked, surprised. Jack hadn't said anything about it when he brought Daniel back from Abydos. "What did he say about me?"
"Not much, just that you died saving him and his men, which didn't make any sense; if he and that Kawalsky guy were any indication, they didn't need anyone to help save them. Come on, Danny, you're as bad as me. Quit sidetracking and answer the question. Where were you?"
Daniel winced. "That's sort of what I wanted to talk to you about, Blair. See, it's a classified project, and they're opening it up again. They're looking for archaeologists and anthropologists, really adaptable scientists who can speak a ton of languages and don't have a problem traveling a lot. And I put your name first on the list. You got your doctorate, right? You were about to put that puppy to bed; I remember you writing your conclusion that because modern society doesn't allow people to spend any significant time in isolation; Sentinels no longer develop their full potential."
Blair stared at his sandwich and took a small bite before answering. "No, I don't have my doctorate yet."
"Blair! Why?"
"It's kind of a long story, Danny."
"Hey, that's my line," Daniel joked. "Come on, you know you can trust me." Blair just looked at him pointedly. "Okay, okay. The shortest explanation: I've been living out in the desert with an indigenous tribe in what turned out to be a classified and strategic location. The military found them and decided they had to get rid of them, so Jack and I hid them and Jack faked my death so I could stay with them and keep them safe. But they were attacked a few weeks ago by the local government, and my wife... they took my wife. I may never see her again."
"Your wife? You got married?"
Daniel nodded, his throat growing tight. "Her name was -- is -- Sha're. That's why I'm back with the project, so I can find her again and rescue her."
"I'm so sorry, Danny. What's she like?" Blair asked.
Daniel smiled at him shakily, grateful for Blair's use of the present tense. "She's... I can't think of one thing that would sum her up. She's got a healthy sense of the ridiculous. She keeps me from having too high an opinion of myself. She makes this amazing flat bread. Her mother died when she was young, so she's spent most of her life looking after her father and little brother, and believe me, her brother is a handful." He shook off the weight of memory. "Sooo, why the delay? You should have gotten your doctorate by now; I mean, come on, you should have published your diss five years ago. I told you, if by some miracle you do find a Sentinel, you can always publish an updated thesis."
Blair was completely hunched over his sandwich, and when he spoke it was so softly that Daniel had to strain to hear him. "I did find a Sentinel. But I don't think I'm ever going to get that doctorate."
"What? Why?"
"I figured, you know, just follow him around for a month or two, get the data I needed, change the names, and we're done. But it's taken over my life now. He needs me to guide him, to show him how to use his senses, and it's the most important work I've ever dreamed of doing. There are people who are only alive because we helped them. And that's why I can't publish. He couldn't do his job if he was being hounded by the government or the paparazzi. And if I had my doctorate, there'd be no reason for me to stay a part of his life. Anyway, it doesn't matter now. I think it's all falling apart. I'll probably have to leave and chuck the research, go back to my original thesis, much as it makes my skin crawl to have to lie about everything I've been pouring my life into."
"What happened?"
"I betrayed him; he's never going to trust me again. And he... it's just starting to cost too much. I don't think I can keep this up."
Daniel's jaw tightened as he looked Blair over. He could guess who the mysterious subject was, after his cold reception at the loft. But he knew from more than a decade of experience that castigating Jim would only make Blair defend him. So instead, he said gently, "What makes you think you betrayed him?"
Blair gave a sharp bark of broken laughter. "Oh man, if only you knew. Let's just say I put my work before our friendship and leave it at that."
"Blair, you did the same thing to me for twelve years, just like I did it to you. We were always staying up to four in the morning working on our computers or at the library, or going off to Marrakech and just leaving a vague note for each other. Just because not everyone is hardwired that way doesn't make you a bad person."
"It's not the same!" said Blair. "Trust me!" He took a few bites of his sandwich. "Besides, I don't think we are hardwired that way, Danny. I think we were just trying to justify the way we were raised, make what Naomi and Nick did to us seem okay."
"Or maybe," said Daniel, touching Blair's hand, "maybe the fact that that way of living helped us survive our childhoods and took us on a ton of adventures means it's a perfectly good way to live. Maybe the fact that it started out being defensive doesn't mean that it's wrong."
"It's not the same." Blair hunched his shoulders. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to put all this on you. Look, Jim's going to be at work tomorrow; do you want to come by after my class and we can sort through your stuff?"
"Sounds good to me," said Daniel, wishing his old lover would cut himself some slack. Blair looked like he badly needed a hug, but Daniel could see he wasn't ready to let things out, would probably make a joke and shrug him off if Daniel tried to help.
"Look, man," said Blair, meeting his eyes again, "I just wanted to say I'm glad you're back. And I know you'll find your wife. You never let anything stop you when you want something that badly."
"Thanks, Blair." Daniel kissed his cheek.
***
Jim winced as he levered himself into bed. It was just rotten luck, catching his leg on that chain link fence while chasing that perp. No, it was more than bad luck; he'd been distracted thinking about Blair's 'friend' when he should have been paying attention to the chase. At least Jim had managed to convince the ER staff that he was allergic to tetanus shots this time; they'd finally relented and just stitched him up, given him standard antibiotics and let Simon drive him home. He'd just have to pick up the truck tomorrow.
And here, stuck at home and hurting, there was no away to avoid thinking about it. Sandburg, gay? No, not gay, bi, but the point was not just that Sandburg liked men, but that he'd been with one for more than a decade, far longer than Jim had managed to make things work with Caro. And of course he'd go for someone like Daniel; the first thing he'd thought of when describing Daniel was how brilliant he was. Of course Sandburg would want someone who he could bounce ideas off of, instead of a dumb cop who grunted in the appropriate pauses but didn't really have a clue what Blair was talking about. And of course he'd go after someone who looked like that, long hair, flannel shirts, a rumpled academic with surprising strength underneath. Jim understood that attraction too well.
Jim's first and only homosexual encounter had been a pretty nasty hazing when he was a young recruit, barely eighteen and still a virgin in every sense of the word. It had pretty much shattered the idle fantasies he'd had as a teenager; how could anyone want a man to hurt them like that? It had taken forever for Caro to convince him that he wasn't going to hurt her, and she was a woman, she was engineered to be on the receiving end. Not that he thought Sandburg would ever, could ever, hurt him, but he was terrified of hurting Sandburg, someone he knew from personal experience he could put through a wall, someone he couldn't live without anymore.
But Sandburg had been utterly comfortable with this Daniel guy; clearly Jim was missing something about this whole taking-it-up-the-back-staircase thing. Maybe it didn't have to be a violation. But that didn't matter, because Sandburg was taken now.
He suddenly heard Sandburg's voice outside the apartment and was about to call out to him when he heard Daniel's voice as well. Sandburg would probably laugh it off as some primal imperative, but Jim had a real problem letting his rival know he was here and he was injured.
"God, you live here?" Daniel asked. "It's smaller than our old dorm room. How long have you been here?"
"Since just after you, you know, after they told me you were dead."
"And you haven't unpacked? That's not like you; usually you unpack the next day so everything feels like home again."
"I sort of moved out and moved back in. I just haven't felt like unpacking yet; I'm a little tired. Hang on, I've just got to take a pill." Jim heard water running in the sink and the sounds of swallowing.
"Are you sure you're okay?"
"It's nothing, Daniel. I told you, I have pneumonia. Here, let's check these boxes."
"I just never thought I'd see you taking prescription meds. You must really feel awful. How did you get pneumonia, anyway? I thought the echinacea was supposed to keep that sort of thing from happening."
Jim held his breath.
"I sort of died a couple of weeks ago. It's not a big deal."
"What? You're joking, right? Blair? Blair, what do you mean, you sort of died?"
There was a rustle of cardboard, the sound of sweaters being unwrapped from around pottery shards. "It's not important."
"Blair!"
"Well, it's not. Look, it's not like it was permanent, or I'm maimed or anything. It made me realize a lot of important stuff about my life. It was just a really intense wakeup call that happened a little too late. No, these are mine; let's check the next box... oh wait, hold on. Cuneiform. Two codices and a contract to buy horses."
"Thanks. So what did you realize?" Daniel asked. "Oh hey! The jackal and the hound! I loved this game."
"That's why I kept it when I thought you'd..." Blair's voice cracked, "God, Danny, I lost you."
A moist sound made Jim's blood boil: lips on yielding lips. "Shh, Blair."
"What about Sha're? I mean, you're married, man, we can't--"
A gasp, almost a sob. "I've spent the last two months going crazy, not knowing if there's anything left, if I'll ever get her back, please Blair, just let me come home for a little while."
"Mmm." More wet sounds, lips on skin now, and the scent of arousal. "No, Danny, I can't. Jim..."
Jim's heart leapt.
"Jim has a rule, no sex in the loft."
Jim's eyes squeezed shut. That was the only reason to say no, just the damn house rules?
"He's not here. He won't know."
"Jim will know... ah! Danny, don't do this to me."
Jim heard the edge of pain in Blair's voice and automatically grabbed the gun by his bedside.
"Mph, Danny, oh God, I'll just change the sheets." Jim clenched the gun, shaking, as he heard the rustle of clothing, the crackle of buttons hitting the floor, shoes clattering against cardboard.
"Hsss, oh God, ngh, Blair..." Soft slurping sounds, gentle kisses, a contented hum from a filled throat. "Oagh! Blair, please, wait, I need you inside me."
The soft hiss of a mylar wrapper tearing. A groan ripped from Daniel's throat. "Harder, please Blair, please, just--"
"Easy, Danny," Oh God, he was using the Guide voice. That was somehow worse than all of it; Blair was using his Guide voice on this Daniel guy and Daniel wasn't even obeying, just kept begging Blair to do it harder. But Blair kept stroking deep in and out, claiming Daniel, giving him what he needed instead of what he was begging for, and the whole time he kept murmuring in Guide tones, words that made Jim drop his gun and fumble with his zipper, desperate to obey. "That's it, just like that. Let me take care of you. I've got you. Can you feel me filling you?" Daniel sobbed with pure need, and Blair chuckled. "Mm, right there, that feels good, doesn't it? Oh God, I missed this. You have no idea how beautiful you look, your whole body stretching for my cock. Shh, I've got you, I've got you, wait for me a moment, oh God, you're so tight," the sounds of wet flesh were more frantic now, and the Guide was on the razor edge. "Agh! God! Ahhh!" The cries echoed from three throats, one muffled by Jim's pillow.
But the worst part of it, for Jim, was that coming didn't seem to be the end of it for the two men downstairs. Blair didn't jump right up to kick Danny out and change the sheets. Instead, Jim heard soft kisses interspersed with gentle conversation about how much they missed each other and throaty chuckles about old pranks they had pulled and professors whose classes they remembered.
Finally Blair sighed and said, "Danny, I hate to do this, but I really do have to clean up before Jim gets back."
"You think he'll know or care if your bed is a little messy?"
"He'll know. He'll care. He'll have a fit."
*He* listened with clenched fists and jaw as Danny sighed, pulled on his clothes, and kissed Blair goodbye. "I'll see you back at the hotel?"
"Count on it. Love you."
"Love you too."
Blair's first step was to strip the sheets and race down to the basement with his laundry. Jim took that as his cue to pull himself together and limp downstairs to the table, sitting down just as Blair opened the door. He took some pleasure in the way his narrowed eyes and flaring nostrils made Blair's heart pound, made the police observer put his keys in the basket as slowly and carefully as a perp reaching for ID.
"Next step was the shower, am I right, Chief?" Jim growled. "Gotta get rid of all the evidence so the primitive Sentinel doesn't find out his territory's been fucking violated, is that it?"
"Jim, man, calm down--"
"What part of 'no sex' don't you understand? You know the rules, Chief, I don't want to see it, I don't want to hear it, and I sure as hell don't want to smell it!"
Blair waited without speaking until Jim was through, then crossed the room and shut the bathroom door with a soft click. A moment later Jim heard the squeak of the faucet and the soft hush of the shower.
Jim stood too quickly and hissed at the stabbing pain, but marched over to the bathroom and flung the door open. Inside, Blair jumped backwards, snatching for a towel. "Jim! What are you doing, man?"
Jim yanked the towel away and grabbed his Guide's hips firmly with both hands. He had to know. He began at the top, cataloguing the scent of the interloper, tracing it to Blair's swollen lips and the darkening marks at his throat. The armpits, blessedly, still smelled almost completely and pungently of Blair, and Jim rested at one for a moment, taking comfort in the warm, moist scent, and felt the shiver from Blair as his tongue darted out to taste. Blair's nipples were dark and hard, the one with the nipple ring still swollen and pink from being sucked and played with. Jim could smell and taste the path Danny had kissed down Blair's belly, noted almost absently the hitch Blair's breathing had developed, the cock that rose to meet him despite its earlier exercise. And Jim smelled a hint of latex and the flat smell of lube, sharp semen, even traces of Danny's sweat and saliva in the creases of Blair's thighs, but...
"No blood."
God, he was dialed up so high that he could *hear* Blair blink. "No, of course not," said Blair.
"You didn't hurt each other?" Jim asked, just to make sure.
"I would never hurt Danny, Jim. And he would never hurt me either," he added.
Jim just knelt there on the bathmat, resting his forehead against Blair's groin, because it seemed like the thing to do when everything he knew had just been turned upside down. "How?"
"*How?*"
Jim suddenly turned beet-red and pulled away from Blair. "Forget I said anything, Sandburg. Let's just pretend this whole afternoon never happened."
Blair grabbed his arm, his other hand smacking the door to keep Jim from opening it. "Wait a second, Jim -- no! I said hold on, this is important." Blair moved around Jim and planted his whole body in front of the door. "I'm still recovering from the last time we had a communications breakdown, so I think I can safely say that your shutting me out whenever we have trouble talking is not a good plan."
Jim flinched; it wasn't like Sandburg to play dirty like that, but it did the job. Jim backed down, clenching and unclenching his jaw, and tried to put what he was feeling into words Sandburg could understand, words he wouldn't dissect and run circles around.
"I don't want him touching you. You're mine," said Jim.
"Oh-kay..." said Blair.
"Just okay?"
"Well, obviously this is a Sent--"
"Why does everything have to be a Sentinel thing?" Jim demanded. "Look, this is stupid. You want to be with him? Fine. Go. Get out."
"oh."
"'Oh?' What 'oh?'"
Blair reached around him and turned the shower off, made Jim sit down on the toilet, and knelt in front of him to look him in the eye. "It's not a Sentinel thing. It's a Jim thing."
Jim tried to get up, but Blair just yanked the backs of his knees and parked him right back down again. He should never have given Sandburg those self-defense lessons. "Okay," said Blair, "So you're afraid I'm going to leave you, like everyone else in your life has." He paused. "Is that why you've been so pissy since Alex killed me? Because you lost me?"
"That's crazy," Jim snarled.
"Man, and here I thought you hated me, that you just felt too guilty to kick me out when I was still sick--" Something must have shown on Jim's face, because Blair's tension eased even further, and a warm smile tugged the corner of his mouth. "Jim, relax, it's just separation anxiety. Everyone gets it. It's normal."
"Sandburg, nothing about you is normal."
Blair chuckled. "Okay, we'll come back to that. Jim, why did you think there would be blood if Danny and I had sex?"
Jim tried to look away, but Blair leaned into his field of vision again.
"Jim? Did something happen?" He waited. "Did you talk to someone about it?" Jim just stared him down. "Of course you didn't. Do you want to talk to me about it?" Finally Blair sighed. "Okay, let's table that one, too. Jim? If you didn't have to worry about hurting me, would you want me?"
Jim shuddered and pulled away to keep Blair from seeing his reaction, but it was too late. "It doesn't matter, Sandburg. I'm not going to do anything to hurt you ever again."
"I see," said Blair. "Jim? Can I kiss you?"
Jim shook his head vigorously. "I'll hurt you. If I start I won't be able to stop and then I'll hurt you."
Blair pounded his head lightly on Jim's knees. "Man, you have no idea how badly you're hurting me now, watching you like this and not being able to convince you to trust me. Looks like we have to just plow through the hurdle before we can take the scenic route, but you owe me a kiss, man. You owe me a few dozen of them once we get through this. Can you hold on for two seconds while I go--" Blair broke off when Jim gripped Blair's hands tight enough to cut off the circulation. "Okay, that's a no." Blair started calculating in his head. "Jim, I hate to ask, man, but you didn't sleep with Alex, did you?"
"No!"
"Then unless there's something you haven't told me about your last physical, you're clean. And I've always played safe." He twisted his hands gently until Jim let go, then unzipped Jim's pants and scooted them down to his ankles. Jim just clenched his eyes shut and gripped the seat, afraid to move, afraid he'd hurt his Guide. "Blair--"
"Jim, I want you to listen to me; this is important. Don't say 'stop' or 'don't' unless you mean it, because I will. Whatever happened to you, the last thing I want to do is perpetuate it. But if you'll let me, I can show you it doesn't have to be like that. Can I see you?"
Jim hesitated, then nodded fractionally.
"Thank you." Blair pulled off Jim's shirt and pants and sat down straddling Jim's lap. He ran his hands over Jim's chest and Jim shivered. "Man, you're absolutely beautiful. Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?"
Jim shook his head, clenching the seat, afraid to look, afraid to touch, God, he was going to lose all self-control, and Blair wasn't strong enough to fight him off. The weight on his lap shifted to the right, and Jim heard a clicking sound and the sudden scent of Blair's shower gel. "See, you do it gently," said Blair, and the weight in his lap shifted, started rocking on his thighs. "You have to stretch the person first, open them up a little. One finger, then two. It feels good, nothing too cataclysmic, just the way your muscles feel good when you stretch them in the gym. You want to help me?"
Jim shook his head, feeling his cock begin to swell and lift, encouraged by Blair's words and the steady, unafraid thump of Blair's heart.
"There's a sweet spot inside there that makes you go absolutely crazy. I can reach it with my fingers, but I'm not touching it, big guy, I'm saving that for later. Whenever I remember this, I want to remember you hitting that sweet spot, making me feel so good. Think of it like a treasure hunt. Or a test, except there's no way this one's going in my notes. Mmm, feels good, Jim, I'm riding three fingers now, and you can't smell a drop of blood, can you?" He could hear the husky edge of Blair's voice as he said, "I think we're up to the audience participation part of the show, Jim."
Jim waited, his whole body clenched, but when Blair stopped moving, he realized Blair wasn't going to do this without his consent. He managed to nod, barely, and then gasped as he felt a cool plop of shower gel on his overheated cock. He groaned and sighed a little as Blair slicked him up, jacking him slowly, leisurely, before rising up and pushing down on Jim's cock.
Jim bit his lip to keep from screaming, it was so good, so unimaginably tight despite the stretching, and Blair was riding him, rocking back and forth until he gasped and said, "Oh yeah, right there, Jim, can you feel it? That's the sweet spot, it feels, oh God, man, Jim, please, please, I can't do it hard enough, I need you to take me over the edge, please Jim, please," and then Blair sobbed in relief as Jim's whole body jackknifed up despite the bolt of pain in his leg and shoved him against the bathroom wall, and Jim grunted and thrust harder and harder, trying to push himself deeper inside that perfect tightness that cradled him and begged him, and then Blair was whispering "Thank you, thank you, love you, Jim," and the tight passage spasmed all around Jim and he thrust once more, desperately. Blair's body milked him and he groaned and offered every drop of moisture to his Guide's precious body.
Blair's arms and legs came up and curled around him, and Blair just sort of sighed into Jim's neck and went limp, his body still quaking with aftershocks that tingled along Jim's nerve endings.
Jim's trembling good leg finally gave out, sending them both none-too-gently to the floor, where the linoleum cooled their sweat. No pain, no fear, just two bodies limp with sweet pleasure on the cool floor, and this time, when Blair leaned over and kissed him softly, Jim didn't pull away. He kissed him back.
***
Jim growled as he heard Daniel climbing the stairs, and spared a glance upwards at his -- no, their -- bed, where he'd tucked poor, worn-out Blair in for a well-deserved nap, and opened the door before his rival could knock. "If you're here to talk to Sandburg, he's not--"
"Actually, I was hoping to talk to you, Jim," said Daniel.
Jim's jaw tightened. "What do you want?"
"I want to offer Blair a job, but he won't accept. Because of you. I want you to let him go, Jim. He can't just stay here, tagging along after you, watching all these chances pass him by. It's killing him."
Jim flinched but, remembering the snippet he'd overheard, countered with, "What about your wife? Do you just expect Sandburg to be your fling on the side? You think that's what's best for him?"
"Sha're is... gone. But I'm not talking about being Blair's lover again, much as I'd like that. I'm talking about him finally getting his doctorate. He and I both started college at sixteen, he's as smart and driven as I am. Do you know how long it takes an ordinary full-time student to get a doctorate? Six, maybe seven years. So why is Blair still here, at Rainier, twelve years later?" His gaze drilled into Jim. "We both know what you are. He's protecting you. But he doesn't have to sacrifice his whole life to do it. Let him go. Let him be who he needs to be."
A few soft thuds and creaks upstairs interrupted them, and Blair came down, sleepy and rumpled, to peer past Jim at the partially open door. "Danny? What's going on?"
"Daniel was just saying I should do the right thing by you and let you go," said Jim quietly. He turned to look at Blair, careful to keep his voice calm and his face expressionless. He was not going to beg. He was *not*. "It's up to you, Chief. You wanna go, I won't stop you."
"No, of course you won't," Blair muttered, frowning at him. "Where have I heard that before? Danny? Can I talk to you for a minute?" As he passed Jim, he muttered, "Don't listen in."
Jim ignored him, dialing up as the two men walked outside. This was the most important decision of his life, and even if he didn't get a vote, he'd be damned if he cut himself out of the loop.
Blair waited until they were out of the building before asking, "What the hell are you doing, Danny? I told you, I'm happy where I am."
"Happy? Blair, your career is going nowhere. You could be doing important work, saving the world, not just spinning your wheels here in Cascade."
"I am doing important work, Danny. Maybe I don't have my doctorate, and maybe I'm not out saving the world doing whatever it is you're doing, but I'm saving lives right here."
"Blair, you can always come back. Cascade will be waiting for you. Jim, if you still want him, will be here when you get back. I'm just asking you to put yourself first for once. Take yourself seriously for a change, and then maybe he will, too."
"Some things don't wait for you, Danny. That's what I'm trying to tell you; that's what I figured out. Home doesn't just wait for you to come back to it. You have to create it, and stay with it, keep it alive. I've got a home here, with Jim. I never had that before. And for better or worse, I can't just abandon that. I'm sorry, Danny. I can't."
There was a soft sound of lips meeting lips, and Danny whispered, "Damn it. You don't have to do this."
"Yes I do, Danny."
"There's nothing I could say to make you see how much you're losing?"
"I know what I'm losing. But I also know what I've gained. It's worth it, man. I just hope you figure it out for yourself someday."
One heartbeat faded into the distance. The other drew closer, and Blair frowned as he let himself into the apartment and caught Jim with his head cocked in his usual listening pose. "Damn it, Jim, I told you that was private."
Jim ducked his head. "Sorry," he said. Then, lower, rougher, "Did you mean it?"
Arms slid around his waist and Blair planted a soft kiss on his throat. "I meant every word. You're home to me, man. I'm not going anywhere."
End.
Blair unpacked the last few carvings and hung them on the wall. He still had to unpack all his books, but otherwise everything was back the way it should be, except for his friendship with Jim. Something about getting kicked out of your own home, drowning, and watching your best friend suck face with the woman who killed you sort of put a damper on a friendship. Yeah, Jim had apologized, hauled all his stuff up from the basement, but who was to say he wouldn't fly into a rage again and kick Blair out over some stupid misunderstanding? Hell, he wouldn't even talk about the vision they had shared.
He heard Jim coming down the stairs, and thought he was going to come talk to Blair, but instead Jim walked right past his room and opened the front door. "Can I help you?" Jim asked gruffly.
"Um, I hope so," said a frighteningly familiar voice. "I'm looking for Blair Sandburg; maybe I have the wrong address?"
"Danny?" Blair whispered. He stepped out of his room and saw the living ghost at the front door. "God, Danny!" He ran up and grabbed Daniel, threw his arms around him. "They told me you were dead!"
"I know, I'm sorry," Daniel whispered, kissing his cheek, his hair, breathing in his scent. "I missed you, Blair."
For one crazy second, Blair was kissing Daniel back, resting in that comfortable nook against Daniel's collarbone. Then he abruptly remembered Jim was watching and he pulled away, red-faced. "Sorry. Jim, this is Daniel Jackson, an old friend of mine. Danny, Jim is my roommate. Danny, what are you doing here? What happened?"
"Can I come in?" Daniel asked. His hand was still resting on Blair's arm, and Blair found his own hand on Daniel's waist, trying to reassure himself that Daniel was real. God, how ironic. A couple of weeks ago he had come back from the dead and now here was Daniel, alive and well more than a year after those damn soldiers had come to the warehouse to regretfully inform him as Daniel's official next of kin...
Daniel accepted a cup of tea, breathing in the smell of it, sipping it carefully. "Chrysanthemum. Man, I missed this."
"So tell me, what happened?" Blair asked.
Daniel shook his head with a smile. "Long story, Blair. I wish I could give you the details. Let's just say I've been out on an expedition."
"They told me you were dead, though," Blair pressed. "I mean, the Air Force did. What the hell were you doing working with the Air Force, anyway? Last I heard you were off to give that lecture at--"
"Yeah, well, I got a little sidetracked," said Daniel. "Look, I just got back to the country and found out my apartment was gone; little problem of me not being around to pay the rent and all. I was wondering if you kept any of my stuff, so I can start piecing my life back together."
"Sure," said Blair. "I mean, I don't have much, I lost most of my stuff when the place where I was living sort of blew up, but--"
"Blew up?" Daniel's eyes widened and he checked Blair over. "I noticed you're not breathing so hot; were you hurt? Are you okay?"
Blair opened his mouth, closed it again, acutely aware of Jim's eyes boring into the back of his head. "I'm okay, Danny. Just a little pneumonia."
Daniel nodded, relieved. "That's good. Look, I'm going to be in town for a few days and I was hoping we could catch up. And I have something to talk to you about later; I may have a job offer that's right up your alley. But look, I haven't seen you in ages. How've you been? How's that Burton project you were working on?"
"Wait, just hold on a second," Blair protested. "I thought you were dead; you have to tell me something."
Daniel's fingers curled in Blair's hair. "It's a long story. And like I said, I can't go into details." He glanced back at Jim.
"Oh, don't mind me," said Jim tightly. "Sandburg and I don't keep secrets from each other." He watched Daniel with his arms crossed.
Daniel stared at Jim and slowly removed his hand from Blair's hair. "Yeah, well, I should probably get back to the hotel. Why don't you come by and see me later? I'm staying at the Marriott."
Blair hugged him again and showed him to the door. "God, I can't believe it. I'll come by later tonight; we can catch up."
He watched Daniel disappear down the stairs until Jim closed the door. "What the hell was that about?" Jim asked.
"Danny and I were old friends; I've known him... wow, almost half my life now. He's an archaeologist and anthropologist, he has the most amazing mind... See, we both had what most people would call crackpot theories, and any time I wanted a book or primary source from the library, he had it checked out or reserved, so finally one night I made a commando raid on his dorm room and we sort of hit it off."
"He was researching Sentinels too?" Jim asked, grinding his jaw.
"No, Danny's big thing was ancient civilizations and their technology, how a lot of different cultures suddenly got a massive rush of knowledge around the same time, and then fell into disarray. His theory was that there was some outside source for the information, some other culture, well, aliens, actually..."
"Aliens, Chief?" Jim's tone was withering.
Blair blushed and hurried to say, "Yeah, well, Danny explains it a whole lot better than I do, and you should see some of the primary sources he found. I mean, the guy is brilliant. Whether or not you believe the bit about aliens, the facts are pretty convincing. Anyway, one day these Air Force guys showed up at the warehouse and told me he was dead, that he died serving his country, which was a crock of shit because Danny wouldn't know his country if it bit him in the ass... God, what were their names? Koala? Kawalsky, that was it. Kawalsky and O'Neill. I remember because I was having a complete nervous breakdown, panic attack and everything, and O'Neill talked me through it and said any geek friend of Jackson's was okay by him, told me I should call him if I needed anything, and gave me his home number because he was retiring. Never called him, though. I wonder if I even still have his number?"
"He must be some friend," said Jim tightly, "to list you as his next of kin. Looked like you two were pretty close."
Blair blushed. "Jim..."
"I thought you liked girls, Chief. Or were you just keeping up appearances?"
"See, this is why I didn't tell you. I knew you'd freak out about it," said Blair. "I really do like girls. I just also like guys, sometimes. Mostly just Danny; he and I were together off and on for almost twelve years." He held his hands out in protest. "Don't worry, Jim, I'm not going to come onto you or anything. There's no reason to feel uncomfortable. I was just scared, because you were a cop and ex-military and everything, that you wouldn't want to live together or even be friends if you thought I was gay. And there's sort of never been a good time to bring it up."
"Anything else you're keeping from me, Sandburg?"
Blair shook his head. "Look, Jim, I'm sorry, it's just I've had a lot of friendships with straight guys break off because they were worried I'd start coming onto them or something; so I stopped telling people. It was just never worth it to be out; when you're bi, you get it from both ends -- no pun intended -- the straight people think you're a deviant and the gay community thinks you're betraying them by having any sort of heterosexual leanings. You get shut out everywhere. I'm sorry Jim, after... after what happened, you know I wouldn't keep anything important from you."
Jim rubbed his hand over his mouth. "Yeah, Chief. Sure."
***
Daniel opened the door to Blair and smiled uncertainly at his old lover. Daniel himself had reason to be depressed and exhausted; he'd just been ripped from his home on Abydos, he didn't know if he'd ever see his wife again, but Blair had always been indestructible, unfailingly optimistic, and now he looked... ill. Beaten. Daniel wrapped Blair in another hug and hoped between the two of them that they could find some way back to their old cheer.
"Have you eaten yet?" Blair asked. "We could go grab something. What are you hungry for?"
"Anything that doesn't taste like chicken," Daniel said, smiling at his private joke.
Blair, being Blair, therefore took Daniel to an amazing little deli with outdoor seating, and of course, Blair had chosen it because they served tongue. The roast beef sandwich with mustard was delicious, though. "So come on, Danny, you have to tell me something. I mean, they told me you were dead. That O'Neill guy really hated telling me, I don't think he would have said it as a practical joke."
"Jack told you himself?" Daniel asked, surprised. Jack hadn't said anything about it when he brought Daniel back from Abydos. "What did he say about me?"
"Not much, just that you died saving him and his men, which didn't make any sense; if he and that Kawalsky guy were any indication, they didn't need anyone to help save them. Come on, Danny, you're as bad as me. Quit sidetracking and answer the question. Where were you?"
Daniel winced. "That's sort of what I wanted to talk to you about, Blair. See, it's a classified project, and they're opening it up again. They're looking for archaeologists and anthropologists, really adaptable scientists who can speak a ton of languages and don't have a problem traveling a lot. And I put your name first on the list. You got your doctorate, right? You were about to put that puppy to bed; I remember you writing your conclusion that because modern society doesn't allow people to spend any significant time in isolation; Sentinels no longer develop their full potential."
Blair stared at his sandwich and took a small bite before answering. "No, I don't have my doctorate yet."
"Blair! Why?"
"It's kind of a long story, Danny."
"Hey, that's my line," Daniel joked. "Come on, you know you can trust me." Blair just looked at him pointedly. "Okay, okay. The shortest explanation: I've been living out in the desert with an indigenous tribe in what turned out to be a classified and strategic location. The military found them and decided they had to get rid of them, so Jack and I hid them and Jack faked my death so I could stay with them and keep them safe. But they were attacked a few weeks ago by the local government, and my wife... they took my wife. I may never see her again."
"Your wife? You got married?"
Daniel nodded, his throat growing tight. "Her name was -- is -- Sha're. That's why I'm back with the project, so I can find her again and rescue her."
"I'm so sorry, Danny. What's she like?" Blair asked.
Daniel smiled at him shakily, grateful for Blair's use of the present tense. "She's... I can't think of one thing that would sum her up. She's got a healthy sense of the ridiculous. She keeps me from having too high an opinion of myself. She makes this amazing flat bread. Her mother died when she was young, so she's spent most of her life looking after her father and little brother, and believe me, her brother is a handful." He shook off the weight of memory. "Sooo, why the delay? You should have gotten your doctorate by now; I mean, come on, you should have published your diss five years ago. I told you, if by some miracle you do find a Sentinel, you can always publish an updated thesis."
Blair was completely hunched over his sandwich, and when he spoke it was so softly that Daniel had to strain to hear him. "I did find a Sentinel. But I don't think I'm ever going to get that doctorate."
"What? Why?"
"I figured, you know, just follow him around for a month or two, get the data I needed, change the names, and we're done. But it's taken over my life now. He needs me to guide him, to show him how to use his senses, and it's the most important work I've ever dreamed of doing. There are people who are only alive because we helped them. And that's why I can't publish. He couldn't do his job if he was being hounded by the government or the paparazzi. And if I had my doctorate, there'd be no reason for me to stay a part of his life. Anyway, it doesn't matter now. I think it's all falling apart. I'll probably have to leave and chuck the research, go back to my original thesis, much as it makes my skin crawl to have to lie about everything I've been pouring my life into."
"What happened?"
"I betrayed him; he's never going to trust me again. And he... it's just starting to cost too much. I don't think I can keep this up."
Daniel's jaw tightened as he looked Blair over. He could guess who the mysterious subject was, after his cold reception at the loft. But he knew from more than a decade of experience that castigating Jim would only make Blair defend him. So instead, he said gently, "What makes you think you betrayed him?"
Blair gave a sharp bark of broken laughter. "Oh man, if only you knew. Let's just say I put my work before our friendship and leave it at that."
"Blair, you did the same thing to me for twelve years, just like I did it to you. We were always staying up to four in the morning working on our computers or at the library, or going off to Marrakech and just leaving a vague note for each other. Just because not everyone is hardwired that way doesn't make you a bad person."
"It's not the same!" said Blair. "Trust me!" He took a few bites of his sandwich. "Besides, I don't think we are hardwired that way, Danny. I think we were just trying to justify the way we were raised, make what Naomi and Nick did to us seem okay."
"Or maybe," said Daniel, touching Blair's hand, "maybe the fact that that way of living helped us survive our childhoods and took us on a ton of adventures means it's a perfectly good way to live. Maybe the fact that it started out being defensive doesn't mean that it's wrong."
"It's not the same." Blair hunched his shoulders. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to put all this on you. Look, Jim's going to be at work tomorrow; do you want to come by after my class and we can sort through your stuff?"
"Sounds good to me," said Daniel, wishing his old lover would cut himself some slack. Blair looked like he badly needed a hug, but Daniel could see he wasn't ready to let things out, would probably make a joke and shrug him off if Daniel tried to help.
"Look, man," said Blair, meeting his eyes again, "I just wanted to say I'm glad you're back. And I know you'll find your wife. You never let anything stop you when you want something that badly."
"Thanks, Blair." Daniel kissed his cheek.
***
Jim winced as he levered himself into bed. It was just rotten luck, catching his leg on that chain link fence while chasing that perp. No, it was more than bad luck; he'd been distracted thinking about Blair's 'friend' when he should have been paying attention to the chase. At least Jim had managed to convince the ER staff that he was allergic to tetanus shots this time; they'd finally relented and just stitched him up, given him standard antibiotics and let Simon drive him home. He'd just have to pick up the truck tomorrow.
And here, stuck at home and hurting, there was no away to avoid thinking about it. Sandburg, gay? No, not gay, bi, but the point was not just that Sandburg liked men, but that he'd been with one for more than a decade, far longer than Jim had managed to make things work with Caro. And of course he'd go for someone like Daniel; the first thing he'd thought of when describing Daniel was how brilliant he was. Of course Sandburg would want someone who he could bounce ideas off of, instead of a dumb cop who grunted in the appropriate pauses but didn't really have a clue what Blair was talking about. And of course he'd go after someone who looked like that, long hair, flannel shirts, a rumpled academic with surprising strength underneath. Jim understood that attraction too well.
Jim's first and only homosexual encounter had been a pretty nasty hazing when he was a young recruit, barely eighteen and still a virgin in every sense of the word. It had pretty much shattered the idle fantasies he'd had as a teenager; how could anyone want a man to hurt them like that? It had taken forever for Caro to convince him that he wasn't going to hurt her, and she was a woman, she was engineered to be on the receiving end. Not that he thought Sandburg would ever, could ever, hurt him, but he was terrified of hurting Sandburg, someone he knew from personal experience he could put through a wall, someone he couldn't live without anymore.
But Sandburg had been utterly comfortable with this Daniel guy; clearly Jim was missing something about this whole taking-it-up-the-back-staircase thing. Maybe it didn't have to be a violation. But that didn't matter, because Sandburg was taken now.
He suddenly heard Sandburg's voice outside the apartment and was about to call out to him when he heard Daniel's voice as well. Sandburg would probably laugh it off as some primal imperative, but Jim had a real problem letting his rival know he was here and he was injured.
"God, you live here?" Daniel asked. "It's smaller than our old dorm room. How long have you been here?"
"Since just after you, you know, after they told me you were dead."
"And you haven't unpacked? That's not like you; usually you unpack the next day so everything feels like home again."
"I sort of moved out and moved back in. I just haven't felt like unpacking yet; I'm a little tired. Hang on, I've just got to take a pill." Jim heard water running in the sink and the sounds of swallowing.
"Are you sure you're okay?"
"It's nothing, Daniel. I told you, I have pneumonia. Here, let's check these boxes."
"I just never thought I'd see you taking prescription meds. You must really feel awful. How did you get pneumonia, anyway? I thought the echinacea was supposed to keep that sort of thing from happening."
Jim held his breath.
"I sort of died a couple of weeks ago. It's not a big deal."
"What? You're joking, right? Blair? Blair, what do you mean, you sort of died?"
There was a rustle of cardboard, the sound of sweaters being unwrapped from around pottery shards. "It's not important."
"Blair!"
"Well, it's not. Look, it's not like it was permanent, or I'm maimed or anything. It made me realize a lot of important stuff about my life. It was just a really intense wakeup call that happened a little too late. No, these are mine; let's check the next box... oh wait, hold on. Cuneiform. Two codices and a contract to buy horses."
"Thanks. So what did you realize?" Daniel asked. "Oh hey! The jackal and the hound! I loved this game."
"That's why I kept it when I thought you'd..." Blair's voice cracked, "God, Danny, I lost you."
A moist sound made Jim's blood boil: lips on yielding lips. "Shh, Blair."
"What about Sha're? I mean, you're married, man, we can't--"
A gasp, almost a sob. "I've spent the last two months going crazy, not knowing if there's anything left, if I'll ever get her back, please Blair, just let me come home for a little while."
"Mmm." More wet sounds, lips on skin now, and the scent of arousal. "No, Danny, I can't. Jim..."
Jim's heart leapt.
"Jim has a rule, no sex in the loft."
Jim's eyes squeezed shut. That was the only reason to say no, just the damn house rules?
"He's not here. He won't know."
"Jim will know... ah! Danny, don't do this to me."
Jim heard the edge of pain in Blair's voice and automatically grabbed the gun by his bedside.
"Mph, Danny, oh God, I'll just change the sheets." Jim clenched the gun, shaking, as he heard the rustle of clothing, the crackle of buttons hitting the floor, shoes clattering against cardboard.
"Hsss, oh God, ngh, Blair..." Soft slurping sounds, gentle kisses, a contented hum from a filled throat. "Oagh! Blair, please, wait, I need you inside me."
The soft hiss of a mylar wrapper tearing. A groan ripped from Daniel's throat. "Harder, please Blair, please, just--"
"Easy, Danny," Oh God, he was using the Guide voice. That was somehow worse than all of it; Blair was using his Guide voice on this Daniel guy and Daniel wasn't even obeying, just kept begging Blair to do it harder. But Blair kept stroking deep in and out, claiming Daniel, giving him what he needed instead of what he was begging for, and the whole time he kept murmuring in Guide tones, words that made Jim drop his gun and fumble with his zipper, desperate to obey. "That's it, just like that. Let me take care of you. I've got you. Can you feel me filling you?" Daniel sobbed with pure need, and Blair chuckled. "Mm, right there, that feels good, doesn't it? Oh God, I missed this. You have no idea how beautiful you look, your whole body stretching for my cock. Shh, I've got you, I've got you, wait for me a moment, oh God, you're so tight," the sounds of wet flesh were more frantic now, and the Guide was on the razor edge. "Agh! God! Ahhh!" The cries echoed from three throats, one muffled by Jim's pillow.
But the worst part of it, for Jim, was that coming didn't seem to be the end of it for the two men downstairs. Blair didn't jump right up to kick Danny out and change the sheets. Instead, Jim heard soft kisses interspersed with gentle conversation about how much they missed each other and throaty chuckles about old pranks they had pulled and professors whose classes they remembered.
Finally Blair sighed and said, "Danny, I hate to do this, but I really do have to clean up before Jim gets back."
"You think he'll know or care if your bed is a little messy?"
"He'll know. He'll care. He'll have a fit."
*He* listened with clenched fists and jaw as Danny sighed, pulled on his clothes, and kissed Blair goodbye. "I'll see you back at the hotel?"
"Count on it. Love you."
"Love you too."
Blair's first step was to strip the sheets and race down to the basement with his laundry. Jim took that as his cue to pull himself together and limp downstairs to the table, sitting down just as Blair opened the door. He took some pleasure in the way his narrowed eyes and flaring nostrils made Blair's heart pound, made the police observer put his keys in the basket as slowly and carefully as a perp reaching for ID.
"Next step was the shower, am I right, Chief?" Jim growled. "Gotta get rid of all the evidence so the primitive Sentinel doesn't find out his territory's been fucking violated, is that it?"
"Jim, man, calm down--"
"What part of 'no sex' don't you understand? You know the rules, Chief, I don't want to see it, I don't want to hear it, and I sure as hell don't want to smell it!"
Blair waited without speaking until Jim was through, then crossed the room and shut the bathroom door with a soft click. A moment later Jim heard the squeak of the faucet and the soft hush of the shower.
Jim stood too quickly and hissed at the stabbing pain, but marched over to the bathroom and flung the door open. Inside, Blair jumped backwards, snatching for a towel. "Jim! What are you doing, man?"
Jim yanked the towel away and grabbed his Guide's hips firmly with both hands. He had to know. He began at the top, cataloguing the scent of the interloper, tracing it to Blair's swollen lips and the darkening marks at his throat. The armpits, blessedly, still smelled almost completely and pungently of Blair, and Jim rested at one for a moment, taking comfort in the warm, moist scent, and felt the shiver from Blair as his tongue darted out to taste. Blair's nipples were dark and hard, the one with the nipple ring still swollen and pink from being sucked and played with. Jim could smell and taste the path Danny had kissed down Blair's belly, noted almost absently the hitch Blair's breathing had developed, the cock that rose to meet him despite its earlier exercise. And Jim smelled a hint of latex and the flat smell of lube, sharp semen, even traces of Danny's sweat and saliva in the creases of Blair's thighs, but...
"No blood."
God, he was dialed up so high that he could *hear* Blair blink. "No, of course not," said Blair.
"You didn't hurt each other?" Jim asked, just to make sure.
"I would never hurt Danny, Jim. And he would never hurt me either," he added.
Jim just knelt there on the bathmat, resting his forehead against Blair's groin, because it seemed like the thing to do when everything he knew had just been turned upside down. "How?"
"*How?*"
Jim suddenly turned beet-red and pulled away from Blair. "Forget I said anything, Sandburg. Let's just pretend this whole afternoon never happened."
Blair grabbed his arm, his other hand smacking the door to keep Jim from opening it. "Wait a second, Jim -- no! I said hold on, this is important." Blair moved around Jim and planted his whole body in front of the door. "I'm still recovering from the last time we had a communications breakdown, so I think I can safely say that your shutting me out whenever we have trouble talking is not a good plan."
Jim flinched; it wasn't like Sandburg to play dirty like that, but it did the job. Jim backed down, clenching and unclenching his jaw, and tried to put what he was feeling into words Sandburg could understand, words he wouldn't dissect and run circles around.
"I don't want him touching you. You're mine," said Jim.
"Oh-kay..." said Blair.
"Just okay?"
"Well, obviously this is a Sent--"
"Why does everything have to be a Sentinel thing?" Jim demanded. "Look, this is stupid. You want to be with him? Fine. Go. Get out."
"oh."
"'Oh?' What 'oh?'"
Blair reached around him and turned the shower off, made Jim sit down on the toilet, and knelt in front of him to look him in the eye. "It's not a Sentinel thing. It's a Jim thing."
Jim tried to get up, but Blair just yanked the backs of his knees and parked him right back down again. He should never have given Sandburg those self-defense lessons. "Okay," said Blair, "So you're afraid I'm going to leave you, like everyone else in your life has." He paused. "Is that why you've been so pissy since Alex killed me? Because you lost me?"
"That's crazy," Jim snarled.
"Man, and here I thought you hated me, that you just felt too guilty to kick me out when I was still sick--" Something must have shown on Jim's face, because Blair's tension eased even further, and a warm smile tugged the corner of his mouth. "Jim, relax, it's just separation anxiety. Everyone gets it. It's normal."
"Sandburg, nothing about you is normal."
Blair chuckled. "Okay, we'll come back to that. Jim, why did you think there would be blood if Danny and I had sex?"
Jim tried to look away, but Blair leaned into his field of vision again.
"Jim? Did something happen?" He waited. "Did you talk to someone about it?" Jim just stared him down. "Of course you didn't. Do you want to talk to me about it?" Finally Blair sighed. "Okay, let's table that one, too. Jim? If you didn't have to worry about hurting me, would you want me?"
Jim shuddered and pulled away to keep Blair from seeing his reaction, but it was too late. "It doesn't matter, Sandburg. I'm not going to do anything to hurt you ever again."
"I see," said Blair. "Jim? Can I kiss you?"
Jim shook his head vigorously. "I'll hurt you. If I start I won't be able to stop and then I'll hurt you."
Blair pounded his head lightly on Jim's knees. "Man, you have no idea how badly you're hurting me now, watching you like this and not being able to convince you to trust me. Looks like we have to just plow through the hurdle before we can take the scenic route, but you owe me a kiss, man. You owe me a few dozen of them once we get through this. Can you hold on for two seconds while I go--" Blair broke off when Jim gripped Blair's hands tight enough to cut off the circulation. "Okay, that's a no." Blair started calculating in his head. "Jim, I hate to ask, man, but you didn't sleep with Alex, did you?"
"No!"
"Then unless there's something you haven't told me about your last physical, you're clean. And I've always played safe." He twisted his hands gently until Jim let go, then unzipped Jim's pants and scooted them down to his ankles. Jim just clenched his eyes shut and gripped the seat, afraid to move, afraid he'd hurt his Guide. "Blair--"
"Jim, I want you to listen to me; this is important. Don't say 'stop' or 'don't' unless you mean it, because I will. Whatever happened to you, the last thing I want to do is perpetuate it. But if you'll let me, I can show you it doesn't have to be like that. Can I see you?"
Jim hesitated, then nodded fractionally.
"Thank you." Blair pulled off Jim's shirt and pants and sat down straddling Jim's lap. He ran his hands over Jim's chest and Jim shivered. "Man, you're absolutely beautiful. Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?"
Jim shook his head, clenching the seat, afraid to look, afraid to touch, God, he was going to lose all self-control, and Blair wasn't strong enough to fight him off. The weight on his lap shifted to the right, and Jim heard a clicking sound and the sudden scent of Blair's shower gel. "See, you do it gently," said Blair, and the weight in his lap shifted, started rocking on his thighs. "You have to stretch the person first, open them up a little. One finger, then two. It feels good, nothing too cataclysmic, just the way your muscles feel good when you stretch them in the gym. You want to help me?"
Jim shook his head, feeling his cock begin to swell and lift, encouraged by Blair's words and the steady, unafraid thump of Blair's heart.
"There's a sweet spot inside there that makes you go absolutely crazy. I can reach it with my fingers, but I'm not touching it, big guy, I'm saving that for later. Whenever I remember this, I want to remember you hitting that sweet spot, making me feel so good. Think of it like a treasure hunt. Or a test, except there's no way this one's going in my notes. Mmm, feels good, Jim, I'm riding three fingers now, and you can't smell a drop of blood, can you?" He could hear the husky edge of Blair's voice as he said, "I think we're up to the audience participation part of the show, Jim."
Jim waited, his whole body clenched, but when Blair stopped moving, he realized Blair wasn't going to do this without his consent. He managed to nod, barely, and then gasped as he felt a cool plop of shower gel on his overheated cock. He groaned and sighed a little as Blair slicked him up, jacking him slowly, leisurely, before rising up and pushing down on Jim's cock.
Jim bit his lip to keep from screaming, it was so good, so unimaginably tight despite the stretching, and Blair was riding him, rocking back and forth until he gasped and said, "Oh yeah, right there, Jim, can you feel it? That's the sweet spot, it feels, oh God, man, Jim, please, please, I can't do it hard enough, I need you to take me over the edge, please Jim, please," and then Blair sobbed in relief as Jim's whole body jackknifed up despite the bolt of pain in his leg and shoved him against the bathroom wall, and Jim grunted and thrust harder and harder, trying to push himself deeper inside that perfect tightness that cradled him and begged him, and then Blair was whispering "Thank you, thank you, love you, Jim," and the tight passage spasmed all around Jim and he thrust once more, desperately. Blair's body milked him and he groaned and offered every drop of moisture to his Guide's precious body.
Blair's arms and legs came up and curled around him, and Blair just sort of sighed into Jim's neck and went limp, his body still quaking with aftershocks that tingled along Jim's nerve endings.
Jim's trembling good leg finally gave out, sending them both none-too-gently to the floor, where the linoleum cooled their sweat. No pain, no fear, just two bodies limp with sweet pleasure on the cool floor, and this time, when Blair leaned over and kissed him softly, Jim didn't pull away. He kissed him back.
***
Jim growled as he heard Daniel climbing the stairs, and spared a glance upwards at his -- no, their -- bed, where he'd tucked poor, worn-out Blair in for a well-deserved nap, and opened the door before his rival could knock. "If you're here to talk to Sandburg, he's not--"
"Actually, I was hoping to talk to you, Jim," said Daniel.
Jim's jaw tightened. "What do you want?"
"I want to offer Blair a job, but he won't accept. Because of you. I want you to let him go, Jim. He can't just stay here, tagging along after you, watching all these chances pass him by. It's killing him."
Jim flinched but, remembering the snippet he'd overheard, countered with, "What about your wife? Do you just expect Sandburg to be your fling on the side? You think that's what's best for him?"
"Sha're is... gone. But I'm not talking about being Blair's lover again, much as I'd like that. I'm talking about him finally getting his doctorate. He and I both started college at sixteen, he's as smart and driven as I am. Do you know how long it takes an ordinary full-time student to get a doctorate? Six, maybe seven years. So why is Blair still here, at Rainier, twelve years later?" His gaze drilled into Jim. "We both know what you are. He's protecting you. But he doesn't have to sacrifice his whole life to do it. Let him go. Let him be who he needs to be."
A few soft thuds and creaks upstairs interrupted them, and Blair came down, sleepy and rumpled, to peer past Jim at the partially open door. "Danny? What's going on?"
"Daniel was just saying I should do the right thing by you and let you go," said Jim quietly. He turned to look at Blair, careful to keep his voice calm and his face expressionless. He was not going to beg. He was *not*. "It's up to you, Chief. You wanna go, I won't stop you."
"No, of course you won't," Blair muttered, frowning at him. "Where have I heard that before? Danny? Can I talk to you for a minute?" As he passed Jim, he muttered, "Don't listen in."
Jim ignored him, dialing up as the two men walked outside. This was the most important decision of his life, and even if he didn't get a vote, he'd be damned if he cut himself out of the loop.
Blair waited until they were out of the building before asking, "What the hell are you doing, Danny? I told you, I'm happy where I am."
"Happy? Blair, your career is going nowhere. You could be doing important work, saving the world, not just spinning your wheels here in Cascade."
"I am doing important work, Danny. Maybe I don't have my doctorate, and maybe I'm not out saving the world doing whatever it is you're doing, but I'm saving lives right here."
"Blair, you can always come back. Cascade will be waiting for you. Jim, if you still want him, will be here when you get back. I'm just asking you to put yourself first for once. Take yourself seriously for a change, and then maybe he will, too."
"Some things don't wait for you, Danny. That's what I'm trying to tell you; that's what I figured out. Home doesn't just wait for you to come back to it. You have to create it, and stay with it, keep it alive. I've got a home here, with Jim. I never had that before. And for better or worse, I can't just abandon that. I'm sorry, Danny. I can't."
There was a soft sound of lips meeting lips, and Danny whispered, "Damn it. You don't have to do this."
"Yes I do, Danny."
"There's nothing I could say to make you see how much you're losing?"
"I know what I'm losing. But I also know what I've gained. It's worth it, man. I just hope you figure it out for yourself someday."
One heartbeat faded into the distance. The other drew closer, and Blair frowned as he let himself into the apartment and caught Jim with his head cocked in his usual listening pose. "Damn it, Jim, I told you that was private."
Jim ducked his head. "Sorry," he said. Then, lower, rougher, "Did you mean it?"
Arms slid around his waist and Blair planted a soft kiss on his throat. "I meant every word. You're home to me, man. I'm not going anywhere."
End.