The Sentinel: Jim Ellison/Blair Sandburg, Sanctuary R rated
Title: 3 a.m.
Fandom: The Sentinel
Characters/Pairing: Jim Ellison/Blair Sandburg
Prompt: #13 Sanctuary
Rating: R. Smutty type artistic things
Word Count: 710
Summary: Jim wakes in the dark and can't resist the seduction of the man in his arms.
It was dark outside the window. No lights. No moon. Even the sounds of the homes and people around them were muted to a dull sound like snow on the television. Two o'clock. Maybe closer to three. It was an hour when Jim Ellison should have been sleeping. Instead he was cherishing it; reveling in the quiet and the peace as much as he did the body in his arms.
In the shadows Blair looked so small, all smooth skin and tight muscles. Perfection in miniature. Jim wondered if he'd taken shit for that, for being shorter than most of the boys. He'd bet money that was where Blair's light hearted sense of humour came from. It wasn't about his mother's hippy ways, or the zen of the meditation he did - at least when he remembered. It was about knowing that if you weren't big enough to take on the bullies and the jocks then you needed to be able to distract them somehow. Blair's method showed in the lines around his mouth, the beginning of skin deep marks at the corner of his eyes. Even asleep he looked like he was smiling, at peace and content.
Wasn't that what he was though? Most of the time when Blair was awake he was hyper, a wound up puppy high on sugar. In bed - Or anywhere when the two them were alone and pants had been made less than necessary for what they wanted - he was kinetic.
Jim felt his cock stir just thinking about how Blair could be when it was just the two of them, naked and sweaty and moaning. Blair called Jim insatiable because he was often dragging Blair into the closet at the back of the station, but it was Blair that drove Jim to it. The heat of Blair's mouth, always so widly hot even against Jim's own high senses and low grade temp. Dexterous hands with just enough callous to be rough despite Blair's tender touch.
Rolling his hips, Jim ground his hardening cock against Blair's hip, moaning softly at the sensation of springy hairs against oversensitive flesh. Nuzzling past still damp curls, Jim kissed at the curve of Blair's shoulder as his hand slid along his guide's chest. A few years before and Jim would have likely hit anyone that would have suggested that he'd end up not just bedding but in a long term relationship with a guy, especially once like Blair. Someone that was Jim's polar opposite. No, not opposites. Blair wouldn't want it called that. Opposites meant opposed to one another.
"Balance." Jim whispered the word against Blair's skin, not realizing how loudly he said it until his partner moved.
"Jimmmmm?" Murmuring his name, Blair rolled into Jim and snuggled close. Short, powerful legs tangled with Jim's. The motion ground them together and Jim's moan rumbled over the soft hum of Blair's voice. "Jim?" This time his voice was much clearer.
"Didn't mean to wake you, Chief." He went still, kindly not pushing for more after the hours before. He could still feel the curve of Blair's wrists against his hands, the sharp lines of the bones in his ankles as Jim held his legs up and back. "Go back to sleep."
Talented hands wriggled between their bodies, numble fingers curling around Jim's cock. "Mmmm, no,' Blair said with a playful grin, canting his head back to look up at Jim. In the dark his face was a mixture of shadows and light. It was how Jim felt he went through the world. Or had until Blair had made sure he couldn't keep straying to the shadows.
"You need your sleep,' Jim argued half-heartedly. It was an arguement that faded as Blair wriggled down the bed, sliding down the length of Jim's form. "Uhmmm, Chief..."
"Yeah, Jim?" The words were breathed over Jim's length a moment before his lips wrapped around the head. Suddenly Jim's world was all heat and pleasure and the sound of Blair's heart racing.
"Don't stop,' he whispered, as much plea as command.
It wasn't a plea he needed to make more than once. Sleep could come later, much later. There were a lot of things more important than sleep. Like one another.
Fandom: The Sentinel
Characters/Pairing: Jim Ellison/Blair Sandburg
Prompt: #13 Sanctuary
Rating: R. Smutty type artistic things
Word Count: 710
Summary: Jim wakes in the dark and can't resist the seduction of the man in his arms.
It was dark outside the window. No lights. No moon. Even the sounds of the homes and people around them were muted to a dull sound like snow on the television. Two o'clock. Maybe closer to three. It was an hour when Jim Ellison should have been sleeping. Instead he was cherishing it; reveling in the quiet and the peace as much as he did the body in his arms.
In the shadows Blair looked so small, all smooth skin and tight muscles. Perfection in miniature. Jim wondered if he'd taken shit for that, for being shorter than most of the boys. He'd bet money that was where Blair's light hearted sense of humour came from. It wasn't about his mother's hippy ways, or the zen of the meditation he did - at least when he remembered. It was about knowing that if you weren't big enough to take on the bullies and the jocks then you needed to be able to distract them somehow. Blair's method showed in the lines around his mouth, the beginning of skin deep marks at the corner of his eyes. Even asleep he looked like he was smiling, at peace and content.
Wasn't that what he was though? Most of the time when Blair was awake he was hyper, a wound up puppy high on sugar. In bed - Or anywhere when the two them were alone and pants had been made less than necessary for what they wanted - he was kinetic.
Jim felt his cock stir just thinking about how Blair could be when it was just the two of them, naked and sweaty and moaning. Blair called Jim insatiable because he was often dragging Blair into the closet at the back of the station, but it was Blair that drove Jim to it. The heat of Blair's mouth, always so widly hot even against Jim's own high senses and low grade temp. Dexterous hands with just enough callous to be rough despite Blair's tender touch.
Rolling his hips, Jim ground his hardening cock against Blair's hip, moaning softly at the sensation of springy hairs against oversensitive flesh. Nuzzling past still damp curls, Jim kissed at the curve of Blair's shoulder as his hand slid along his guide's chest. A few years before and Jim would have likely hit anyone that would have suggested that he'd end up not just bedding but in a long term relationship with a guy, especially once like Blair. Someone that was Jim's polar opposite. No, not opposites. Blair wouldn't want it called that. Opposites meant opposed to one another.
"Balance." Jim whispered the word against Blair's skin, not realizing how loudly he said it until his partner moved.
"Jimmmmm?" Murmuring his name, Blair rolled into Jim and snuggled close. Short, powerful legs tangled with Jim's. The motion ground them together and Jim's moan rumbled over the soft hum of Blair's voice. "Jim?" This time his voice was much clearer.
"Didn't mean to wake you, Chief." He went still, kindly not pushing for more after the hours before. He could still feel the curve of Blair's wrists against his hands, the sharp lines of the bones in his ankles as Jim held his legs up and back. "Go back to sleep."
Talented hands wriggled between their bodies, numble fingers curling around Jim's cock. "Mmmm, no,' Blair said with a playful grin, canting his head back to look up at Jim. In the dark his face was a mixture of shadows and light. It was how Jim felt he went through the world. Or had until Blair had made sure he couldn't keep straying to the shadows.
"You need your sleep,' Jim argued half-heartedly. It was an arguement that faded as Blair wriggled down the bed, sliding down the length of Jim's form. "Uhmmm, Chief..."
"Yeah, Jim?" The words were breathed over Jim's length a moment before his lips wrapped around the head. Suddenly Jim's world was all heat and pleasure and the sound of Blair's heart racing.
"Don't stop,' he whispered, as much plea as command.
It wasn't a plea he needed to make more than once. Sleep could come later, much later. There were a lot of things more important than sleep. Like one another.