Gossip

Blair Sandburg slipped out from behind his desk, fishing in his pockets for vending machine change. Nope, the precinct's break room didn't exactly feature the healthiest of food products, but it had been a long day, and he had to have a caffeine break, even if it was in the form of chocolate.

He had stopped at the water fountain to wet his whistle when he overheard the conversation from the next room down the hall.

"Yeah, what is their deal, anyway?" someone was asking, "I mean, Ellison's a real cop, right?"

And Blair stopped right where he was.

"Oh yeah. Top of the line," replied the other person, and Blair recognized it as H. Oh god. He got that sinking feeling one acquires when one realizes there’s a possibility of overhearing oneself get trashed by someone considered, at the time at least, a friend.

"We consider Sandburg a cop, too," said H, and Blair sighed in relief. Thanks, H, he thought, relaxing a bit.

"Yeah, but that's the odd thing," continued the other voice. "I mean, from what I've seen of Jim Ellison, he doesn't seem the type to hang around with that Sandburg guy. And wasn't Ellison always a lone gunner?"

"Sometimes you have to run alone until you find the right partner," said H casually. "Sandburg's a brain. Their arrest record is off the scale, man."

Blair couldn't help but smile to himself.

"Well, I didn't know the deal. Downstairs, everybody's been saying that Ellison's a little soft on the kid, if you know what I mean."

"No, I don't," said H, apparently standing up since Blair could hear the scrape of chair legs on floor. "I think Ellison's pretty hard on everybody, but that's just his style."

Outside, Blair's heart was pounding as he tried to decide where to go so he wouldn't be spotted.

"No hard feelings," said the other voice. "Just some gossip, that's all. I hadn't been sayin' nothing," he added.

I'll bet, thought Blair dryly.

"I figured ol' Jim Ellison wouldn't leap the fence. Especially for a boy toy like that."

There was a silence as Blair's heart stuck in his throat. A boy toy. Oh great. Was that what people thought of him? Sure, he was offbeat, especially in this world, but a boy toy? A little sex thing for Jim to play with? Oh my god. Oh my god.

"Listen," said H. His tone sounded off-hand, but his words didn't. "Sandburg's one of us up here. You can tell all your buddies downstairs if they've got something to say about him or Ellison, they can come up here and say it to our faces."

The other voice gave a half-laugh. "Yeah, right. Just kidding, H, okay? You're still my man."

He's your man, and I'm the boy-toy, thought Blair dryly as he quickly skidded around the corner and stayed there a moment, heart pounding.

"Hey Chief, what's going on?" Jim had walked up right on him.

Blair jumped, turning hastily to his partner. "Nothing," he said, clearly lying.

Jim gave him a doubtful look and just shook his head. "Hiding out from a spurned lover?" he asked dryly.

"Uh, ha ha," said Blair, almost laughing at the irony of that. "Nah. Just hanging out, man."

"Whatever," said Jim. "Listen, I've got this report I'm working on. The Ganz case? Think you could spare me a few moments to look over it?" Which was Jim's way of saying, "Will you help me with it?"

"Sure," said Blair, and Jim put a big hand on the wall beside Blair's head and leaned right over him to show the student the file.

Funny how Blair had never before noticed how close Jim stood to him sometimes. To make matters worse, H and his companion, a fairly new guy from arson, swept around the corner at that moment.

"Ellison!" said H. "How's my man?" And Jim gave him a high-five without even taking his right arm away from the wall. Blair just stood there with a dumb half-smile on his face, feeling like Jim's little boy toy. He could sense the other man's smiling eyes rake right over him.

Blair pursed his lips, looked down at the floor, and as the other two walked off, Jim glanced over at him. He was about to say, "Something wrong?" when his over-tuned senses heard the arson guy say, "I'm not saying I'm doubting you, my man, but that is one cozy looking team, if you ask me."

And H's reply: "I thought we had been over that, Drew," his voice holding a warning that even the other man got.

Jim glanced at Blair. It was doubtful the kid had heard the conversation, and at any rate, Blair had looked uncomfortable before the two had had that exchange. He wondered if that guy, Drew, had somehow been bothering Blair. "What's up with you?" Jim asked, his icy eyes missing nothing.

"Nothing," said Blair, quickly looking back at the report.

That night, Blair was very quiet, picking at his food with that faraway look he wore right before saying "Jim" and starting into some long, obviously well-thought over topic.

"Jim," he said, and Jim waited. Blair cocked his head, waved his fork around. "Does it bother you that people say things about us at the station?"

"Nope," said Jim, taking in another mouthful of noodles. So that was it. Maybe Blair had heard what that guy Drew had said. But again Jim remembered that Blair had been acting funny before that little incident.

"Did you know that people talked about us at the station?" Blair pursued.

"You ever worked anywhere where people didn't talk about other people, Chief?" Jim asked laconically.

"No," Blair admitted. The halls of academia were certainly not exempt from such goings-on. There was a silence before Blair said, "So it doesn't bother you?"

"No, but apparently it bothers you," Jim replied.

Blair looked disturbed by this bit of news. "Well, it doesn't bother me-"

"What did you hear, Sandburg, that bothers you so much?"

Oh boy. Blair didn't want to go there. Well, you brought it up, he said to himself. He stared at his plate while he speared a piece of garlic bread. "Just some junk," he finally said.

Jim grunted and got up to take his plate to the sink. "Don't let it get to you, Chief. Was it the hair? The earrings?"

"No, and I thought everyone would be used to those by now, Jim," Blair said, a bit side-tracked. "Are you saying people still have a problem with that? I mean I've been there for three fucking years, man."

"Some people will always be jerks, Chief. Not to mention horribly out of style." He raised his eyebrows dramatically.

"Besides, I don't even wear those earrings anymore," Blair frowned.

Jim glanced over at him. "You didn't stop wearing those because of what someone said at the station, did you, Sandburg?"

"No. It's...." complicated, Blair thought.

"So what did you hear?" asked Jim, crossing his arms across his chest. "Not the earrings, not the hair, let me guess." His voice was very dry. "That you're humping me nightly?"

Blair stared at him, mouth open.

"Oh, come on, Chief," Jim said, shaking his head and turning to find some dishwashing soap. "People are going to say what they want to, and you can't let it get to you."

"People are saying that I'm humping you nightly?" Blair asked, trying to level his voice.

"That wasn't it either?" Jim asked, and Blair came over to help with the clean-up.

"Yes, it was," the latter admitted. "Something like that."

"And you just now heard that rumor? Where have you been?" But Jim's words were kind. He had known that had been going around from almost the first day Blair had stepped foot into the department. He had hoped the kid wouldn't hear it, though. Blair could be so charmingly naïve sometimes, enthusiastically optimistic about human nature. True, he wasn't so much anymore, but still….

"I heard I was your boy toy," Blair confided dryly, and Jim gave a short bark of laughter.

"Well, alright," said Jim, popping Blair on the rear end with the dishtowel.

Blair shot him a withering look. "Laugh it up, big boy," he replied.

"Sounds like you're the big boy to me." Jim was still laughing, and Blair couldn't find a proper come-back so he just went for honesty.

"That doesn’t bother you?" he asked, a bit surprised at Jim's reaction to the whole conversation.

"Why should it?" Jim shrugged. "They're a bunch of assholes. Besides, they're just jealous." And he shot Blair a wicked grin, which Blair did not know how to take.

"Oh, right." Then, "Oh, you mean jealous of you."

"I meant jealous because you're such a catch and you're all mine," said Jim.

"Sometimes you can be the King of Annoying," Blair replied. "I'm serious here!" He snatched an innocent plate and rubbed it nearly to death.

"I am, too," said Jim.

"Yeah." Blair kidnapped another hapless plate.

Jim glanced over at him and said, "You don’t think you're a catch, Chief?"

"I think I'm okay. I guess some women could do worse. But since I've never been a boy toy before, I have no scale with which to compare that," he said smartly.

"Well, if it's any consolation, Sandburg, you'd be the only boy toy I'd ever want."

"Jim. I'm not a boy toy. I know this is all hilarious to you, but it was a bit disconcerting to me to have to hear all that." He plopped down another plate.

"Why?" asked Jim.

"Because man, it's the station. We work there. I mean, people we know have to hear that crap."

"Blair, if the people who really know us hear that, they won't believe it."

"But what if they do?" Blair insisted. "I mean, what if H and Simon and Rafe and all of them really do think that? They're cool, nineties kind of people. They might not care. For all we know, the whole damn station might just assume that we are together, man."

Jim looked at him with pursed lips. "So?" he shrugged.

Blair stared at him. "That doesn’t bother you?" he finally asked.

"No, why should it? And why does it bother you? I thought you were Mr. Go with the Flow Sandburg here. So what if people think we're slipping between the sheets together, huh? Who cares?"

"Jim, man, don't say that," Blair said, putting one hand on his stomach and mock-shuddering. After all, that surely went along with Jim's obviously kidding words.

Jim raised an eyebrow, and after a moment, Blair looked back up and saw it.

"Hey, no offense," he said quickly, "but come on, Jim, you and me? I mean…." He broke off more uneasily than he had started and began to study Jim's stoic face. The bigger man had re-crossed his arms across his chest and looked like he was waiting for something. "I mean," Blair started again, and then he started thinking, oh god, Jim, just have me on again, why don’t you? He could almost hear the belly laughs which were sure to follow this little episode. "Ha ha, very funny, man," Blair said sardonically.

"I'm not laughing, Chief," said Jim.

Blair stopped laughing, too. "Geez, Jim, I'm sorry," he said automatically. "I was just kidding, I didn't mean anything by it. C'mon, Jim, you're just kidding me here, right?"

And he felt a terrible feeling slither into his stomach as Jim, eyes cool, merely re-hung the dishtowel and said, "It's late, Chief. I think I'm going to turn in."

"Jim?" Blair asked, following him to the door of the bathroom. "You're just kidding, right? Jesus, Jim, I didn't mean anything by it. I knew you were just having me on. Jim? Jim?"

"It's okay, Sandburg," said Jim, and he sounded very, very tired. "Not much of a boost for my ego here, but I'll live through it."

"Jim? You are kidding, right? Tell me you're kidding." Sandburg had dropped into the beginning range of the pleading zone.

Jim stopped, looked down at his worried roommate. "Blair, I love you. You love me. Okay, yeah, I've thought about slipping into the sheets with you before. Frankly, I'm surprised you haven't. Guess you weren't quite the sex machine I thought." And with that, Jim walked into the bathroom and shut the door behind him.

Shit, thought Blair. It was just about the only thing he could think. What had just happened here? Could Jim have been serious? He heard the voice again. Blair, I love you. You love me. Well, yeah, that was true. I mean, that's no state secret, Blair thought to himself. They were best friends, partners. Family. Hell, Blair had practically given up his whole life to come and live and take care of Jim. (And who was he kidding here, Jim did a lot of the taking care of, too).

Then he thought of the other thing. The other thing that had flopped out of Jim's mouth as if in slow motion, Yeah, I've thought about slipping into the sheets with you before. Since when? Since fucking when? Blair suddenly wanted to bang down the door to the bathroom, to fucking demand that Jim tell him everything about this…thing…this thing that Blair had never even had a clue about.

Oh, please, came the little voice in his head. Oh puhleeeeze. Never had a clue about. Never wondered why you and Jim came to be so close? Never wondered why the two of you couldn't keep your hands off each other, couldn't step one foot out of each other's space? Come on, Blair Sandburg. Give me a fucking break here.

I am heterosexual, OKAY? Blair screamed to his other self. Straight. Not narrow, no, but definitely straight. Sure, I talk big, embrace other's rights to be gay, but c'mon here. I just recently found out that I could get women into bed. Think I'd give up on them so quickly? I've barely started here!

"Jim?" Blair asked, while his subconscious argued.

No answer.

"Jim? You okay in there?"

After a while, the door opened and Jim shot him a very long-suffering glance. "Drop it, Sandburg," he said.

"No," said Blair, his hands winding excitedly into the air. "Drop this? I don't think so, man. This is like way major on our relationship scale here."

"According to you, we don't have a relationship," Jim said dryly, starting up the stairs to the loft.

Blair followed on his heels, not even pausing from his words to notice what he was doing. "Oh come on, Jim," he said, skipping up the last two steps and shadowing Jim as the bigger man started turning down the bed. Blair couldn't remember the last time he had made his own bed.

"Sandburg, it's late here," said Jim. "Give a guy a chance, huh?" Sandburg stopped for a moment, and Jim turned to face him. "It's okay," he said. "I was just kidding, anyway."

"You were," said Blair flatly.

"Yes," said Jim. "Happy now?"

"You're lying," Blair accused, rousing an angry index finger for a journey to the middle of Jim's sternum.

Jim spread his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Jesus, Sandburg, first you insist that I'm yanking your chain, and now you're saying I'm lying when I agree that I was."

"You were?" Blair asked, rather uncertainly.

For a long moment they faced each other. A long moment during which Jim debated upon telling Blair the truth or not. He didn’t know if it'd matter now or not, but at least this evening had solved one problem for him. He finally had his answer to a question that had been in the back of his head for a very long time. The answer to whether or not Blair could be as interested in him, Jim, as Jim was in Blair.

That answer, obviously, was no.

"Yep," said Jim, turning around. "Go to bed, Sandburg. I like my boy toys rested." And with that, he turned off the light and slid underneath his covers. Nothing had changed, really. So his heart had been frozen and cracked to pieces. He had never really expected anything less.

Blair eventually skidded back downstairs, puzzled and a bit upset. This was so fucking weird, all of it. I mean, the whole boy toy thing really threw me, he thought. And I was sure it would bother Jim, though I don't know why I was. I should have known better. Jim has never cared what people think of him. And if anyone was secure in their masculinity, it would be Jim Ellison.

What about you, Blair? a little voice whispered. How secure are you? He wandered back into his room, picked listlessly at a few papers while he ran over that question in his mind.

Gay. To Blair, that could still conjure up terribly outdated images of sissy boys and mincing walks, even though intellectually he knew better and was ashamed for even thinking it. And he knew better because he had been the butt of such remarks more than once in his life. With his slight build and pretty features he had heard the whole gamut of that little subject. It hadn't really bothered him at first. At first, even, he had talked back, taken up for the gay lifestyle, informed his tormentors that although he wasn't that way inclined, he sure didn't take being called such as an insult. That approach had shut up some of the more verbally inclined bullies, not so other ones. Naomi had been frank about such things, had never instilled any kind of prejudices inside of him, had worked for the just the opposite effect, in fact.

Still, he had never been into guys. Sure, he could tell when one was attractive, or at least what he considered attractive, like Jim, for instance. Anybody with eyes could see that Jim had the face and form of a god, and he felt perfectly secure in admitting that. But he had always liked women, had nearly fallen over dead the first time one kissed him. It had been one long train ride after that. No, he had never really found any he had thought of actually ending up with, but he was young, right? He sat and mulled that over for a bit. A steady girlfriend.

Lying back on the bed, Blair crossed his hands behind his head and thought about what kind of woman it would take to make him give up the single lifestyle. Someone he could trust, that was for sure. Someone loyal, faithful. Someone he was friends with, could hang out with. Even Blair knew that while having good sex was great, being able to just hang out together was important, too. Someone who wouldn't let you down in hard times. A flash of Jim's face whizzed through his mind. Jim holding him when he was hurt, that "You all right?" he always asked when something rough was going down. The way Jim was always ready to throw his body over his own, put his hand out over him at sudden stops to make sure Blair didn't go flying out through the windshield. Now there was a friend, well, much more than a friend, really. His best friend, the biggest part of his life. His home. Where would be the room for a steady girl in there?

Looking around, Blair realized that this was the longest he had ever stayed in one place. Okay, he had thought about that before, but now he looked at it with different eyes. Different eyes because now this was his home, and if he ever did get into a serious relationship, that would eventually mean leaving here. Leaving Jim. Biting his lower lip, he wondered how that would be, exactly. They would live separately, of course. Blair doubted he could find a woman that would want to live with both him and Jim, well, maybe he would, but she might not be interested in the monogamous relationship he would be, he thought dryly. Okay, he and Jim would live apart. They could still work together, right? He refused to think about a separation there - his mind was just too tired to process it at this point. Would they still eat dinner together each evening? No. Camp on the weekends? Unlikely. Although doubtless they would still be friends, even close ones, things would never be the same as they were now.

Flipping over, Blair thought about that some more. What had Jim said tonight? That he was surprised Blair had never thought of them together in that way. Although Jim had meant that in another way, hell, Blair had to admit that it made sense, at least in a generic way. Jim was a sentinel, Blair was his shaman. They needed each other. Needed each other on a deep, daily level. What if Jim zoned in the middle of the night? What if Jim zoned during sex? Now that was a thought. Blair had to giggle as he imagined Jim's panicked spouse calling him in the middle of the night, going…well, Blair, we were just in the middle of having sex, and Jim just blanked out on me! He stopped laughing. It wasn't funny. Jim could get hurt somehow.

"Looks like we're stuck with each other," he sighed, turning over yet again and trying not to analyze that little thought. After a long while, he finally drifted off to sleep.

The next morning Blair said nothing about the night before, but Jim could feel his eyes trailing him everywhere. "Don't worry," Jim finally said, half-irritable, half-amused. "I'm not going to jump you before I get my morning coffee."

"Jim," chided Blair. "Like, that is so unfair, man. Did I say anything? I'm not kidding myself that you have any, uhm, less than platonic feelings for me here. Or more than platonic, I guess I should say."

"The first one's probably more right," Jim said dryly, and Blair made a face at him.

At the station, though, the discussions of the previous day came roaring back when Blair saw H wandering in with a fresh doughnut.

"I'm thinking about cutting my hair," Blair said for no reason.

"Oh, Sandy, don’t!" said Conner, who was sitting within earshot.

"No? You don’t think?" Blair smiled, happy to fish for compliments.

"No, it looks good that way. Don’t you think so, Jim?" asked the Australian guilelessly, and Jim looked up and said, "I think it's ravishing, Sandburg."

Blair shot him dagger looks.

Conner watched the whole exchange, saying nothing.

That evening, as they walked to the elevator, Jim said casually, "Well? What's for dinner? Your turn to cook, right?"

"Yeah," said Blair, turning to smile at the officers getting off the elevator on their floor. That had sounded very domestic. A lot of things they said did. Blair marveled that he had never realized all this before. No wonder people thought they were sleeping together.

H and Rafe hurried to catch the elevator before the doors closed, and amidst some easy small talk, Rafe said, "So what are you two up to tonight?"

"Who says we always have to be doing something?" Blair said, trying for a light laugh and a kidding tone. "I may have a date, you know."

"Yeah, yeah," said H teasingly. "We know you're all talk and no do, Sandburg."

"You guys might be surprised," said Jim cryptically, and Blair tried not to shoot him an indignant glance.

"Right," said Rafe, kidding around good-naturedly.

When they all went their respective ways in the parking garage, Blair popped Jim lightly on the arm and said, "Man! What did that mean?"

"What? Your masculinity feeling a little threatened here, Chief?"

"My masculinity is not feeling threatened here," hissed Blair, jerking open the truck door and remembering to keep his voice down. "You're just yanking my chain because of my reaction last night."

Jim put the car into gear and headed out, an amused look in his cool blue eyes. It wasn't as bad as he had thought, living with this new knowledge. In a way, the numbness was pleasant. Familiar. "I just never knew you had such a problem with people thinking we hung out together outside of the job," he said, studying the traffic with his usual stoic face.

"Jim! I don't," said Blair. His hands wove intricate circles before him.

"People do know we live together, Chief," Jim said mildly. "Unless you're thinking you should fix that, too."

Now Blair stared at him, the hurt and disbelief apparent in his round blue eyes. "I can't believe you said that," he finally said.

Jim shrugged, a cool, unconcerned movement. "I wouldn't want to cramp your style, Sandburg," he replied. "You've got to admit that it would cut down on all those rumors at work."

"Jim, I've lived with you for three years now. That place is my home," Blair said simply.

"Even if people think you're boffing the owner? Maybe we shouldn't tell them that you don't even pay rent," and Blair was surprised at the undertones in Jim's voice. He's angry, thought Blair. No…make that hurt. Hurt. Why would…he thinks I'm ashamed of him, Blair thought. And God, what are you doing here, Sandburg? You're acting like you're so afraid of a little gossip that you would throw away the best thing you ever had over a few small-minded freaks down at the precinct!

"I'm sorry, Jim," he said frankly, his voice deep and rich. "You're right. I've totally overreacted to this whole thing. It just…scared me, that's all."

"Scared you," Jim repeated.

"Yeah," said the student. "It's just…." He took a deep breath. "I've had a few unpleasant incidents in my past over this kind of thing."

Jim froze for a second, brow creased. "Blair, you don't…." He stopped, realizing that this was none of his business.

"No, no, I wasn't abused or anything like that," Blair said hurriedly. "No, thank all the gods and goddesses. But you know, I was kinda small, and always the new kid, so I got the bad end of the stick sometimes."

"I hope you're not meaning literally," Jim said.

"Sometimes, but nothing that bad," Blair said. "It's just that the words fag or gay or queer have a more loaded meaning for me than I'd like to admit."

"Sandburg, I'm not gay," Jim said.

"Well, no, I didn't think you were," Blair said instantly.

There was a silence. When they got to the loft, Blair shot Jim a smile that was meant to be appeasing, and followed him up the stairs and inside. After the door was shut and locked, Blair said, "I'm really sorry, okay? I really overreacted."

"No problem." Jim was already waving it away. "What's for dinner?"

Blair fixed some stir-fry, and as they moved about the kitchen together in their everyday gastronomical dance, Blair thought, I wish we were together. It would make things so fucking easy.

So over dinner, he said, "Jim," and Jim looked up.

"I've been thinking," Blair said, twisting his fork in his hand.

"This sounds dangerous," Jim said.

Blair smiled, said, "I'm sorry I had such a bad reaction last night to what you said."

"Sandburg," said Jim, immediately sounding annoyed, "I said to forget it."

"No," said Blair, laying down that fork, "Hear me out, okay?" And as Jim knew there was no way to stop that from happening, he didn't try.

"Last night," Blair said, "when you said you were surprised that I had never thought about the two of us…you know…" he made what he thought was an appropriate hand gesture, "well, I wasn't quite truthful in my reply."

"Not Mr. Obfuscation," Jim said dryly, wiping his lips with his napkin. This might be interesting to hear after all.

"Yes, believe it or not," said Blair, relieved that Jim wasn't making it more difficult than it already was.

"So?" Jim asked.

"So…you're right. I guess I had thought about it."

"Ah," said Jim, eating his dinner as if he had this conversation every night at this time.

"I mean…have you?"

"I think I said I had last night."

"Yeah," said Blair, leaning back in his chair. He had lost all interest in dinner other than as a place to play in with his fork. There was a silence during which Blair mentally implored Jim to say something more. When he didn't, Blair said, "So…can I ask what you've thought?"

Jim raised his eyebrows in surprise. "What? You want details?"

"There are details?" Blair leaned forward, elbows on the table. He was getting curious now. He felt a sheet of nerves wrap around his spine, swaddle it.

"Blair, where are we going with this?" Jim asked, getting up to take his plate to the sink. Blair scooted back from the table, watched him.

"I'm just curious, that's all," the student said, shrugging.

"Curious," said Jim. He glanced back at him over his shoulder. "You finished? Bring that plate over here."

Blair was indeed finished. His stomach was jumping like a fair ride, and those noodles didn’t have a ticket.. He got up, walked over to Jim and automatically fell into their post-dinner cleaning ritual.

"So?" Blair asked, his eyes flicking up at his roommate.

Jim gave a sigh that was also a sound of amused disbelief. "I don't know, Sandburg, why don't you tell me what you've thought?"

"I asked you first," said Blair, his face flushing despite himself.

"Well," said Jim, unable to resist giving Blair just what he asked for. After all, what could be worse, right? He had already seen Blair flinch from that thought. "Sometimes I think about you naked in the shower."

Blair stared at him, unable to believe that those words had come out of Jim's mouth. "Oh," he said, trying to sound cool about it.

"Your legs are spread," said Jim, his voice deepening, his words softening. "I'm behind you, rubbing the soap all over your body."

"Jesus," breathed Blair, needing desperately to twitch as things began jumping happily between his legs. The picture Jim's words conjured hung brilliantly in his mind. As hung as Blair and Jim were in the picture.

Jim gave him a crooked smile, and for a brief moment, Blair wondered if Jim was pulling his leg.

"You're serious?" he asked breathlessly.

Jim shrugged. "Sometimes I pretend I'm a black panther and you're a wolf and I'm chasing you in the jungle," he said, and this time Blair caught the lights in his eyes for what they were.

"That was so fucking mean!" he said, throwing down the dishtowel. "You know I could have written for days about that!"

"Are you going to write about this?" Jim asked, and all his earlier amusement immediately vanished.

"No!" said Blair, frowning. "Right. Like my professors would want to read about this. Well, actually they might, but…."

Jim turned back to the task at hand, and Blair was afraid he had lost him.

"What else?" Blair prompted softly.

"Why are you asking?" Jim said, and again Blair realized that the mood was gone.

"I want to know," he said.

"Why?"

"Because," was his lame reason as he tried to come up with something scholarly.

"Because it's for your research," Jim said, quickly finishing up the washing. "Well, here's a tip, professor. I'm not nursing any kind of long lost lust for you or anything, okay?"

"I've thought about you, too," Blair said, cutting him off while he still could.

Jim stopped instantly and Blair rushed in to press his advantage.

"I've lain in my bed at night and touched myself," he made himself admit. He could feel his cheeks heat. "And thought about what it would be like if you came down those stairs. Walked into my room, watched me."

Jim was staring at the floor, motionless.

"And then you'd say my name," said Blair, flaming with embarrassment now. "Blair, you'd say. And I'd look at you, and" god, I sound like a Harlequin Romance, Blair thought.

"And what?" Jim whispered. He cleared his throat, and for some reason that sound increased the buzz vibrating in Blair's crotch.

"And you'd walk over to me," Blair managed. "I'd reach up my hand." He tried to sound more business-like. More manly, he thought dryly. Yeah, that's important now. "And take yours. Your hand," he hastily clarified, glancing quickly at Jim, and he thought he saw a line of amusement scrawl across Jim's face.

"Nothing else, huh?" Jim couldn't resist.

"Jim," said Blair, "you're spoiling the mood here."

"Sorry," said Jim. "Go on."

Blair sighed very deeply. Tried to still his hammering heartbeat. "And…well, you'd get into bed with me…" his voice trailed off.

"And put my arms around you, and feel the heat of your naked body against mine?" Jim suggested, and he was smiling now. Smiling with very reddened cheeks. "Geez, Sandburg, we should write romance novels for a living."

"Hey, if it pays…." Blair said. There was a small silence.

"So why did you lie?" Jim finally asked.

"Huh? Oh, last night." Blair ran his tongue over his dry lips and Jim opened his own mouth in response without even realizing it. "Well, I was shocked, man!" He patted an absent hand through his unruly curls. "Plus I thought you were just jerking my chain."

Jim let that remark fly, it was just too easy. "Blair," he said, "those people at the station…they're just a bunch of assholes."

"I know," said Blair. "I know. And I don't care what they say." He was getting his second wind. "So what if they talk, right? I mean, who cares? Plus I've been living here for three years, man."

"Yes," said Jim. "Frankly, I'm surprised you're just now hearing the rumors, Sandburg."

Blair glanced up at him. "Have they been bad?"

Jim cocked his head, shrugged. "Well, we've been warming the sheets since day one, but other than that, not too bad. Most of them are even grateful that you've managed to keep this dreadful old ogre in line."

Blair laughed. "Right. Well they should pay me, then."

There was a comfortable silence, and Jim said, "Wanna catch a movie?" and they moved over to the sofa and flicked around until they found something to watch. Blair picked up some schoolwork and sat down at the other end of the sofa, the camaraderie nice and relaxed.

But Blair was horny.

He tried not to think about it, but despite everything else, it was still there. And the worst part was that it wasn't just a physical condition, he was mentally horny. Which meant all his intellectual curiosity about him and Jim and all the things Jim had thought about them were mixing all up together with his dick. Altogether a nearly impossible condition for Blair to compete against. So he began doing something about it.

Selecting a book, he stretched out on the sofa with his back against the armrest, his feet just touching Jim's outer thigh. Jim glanced up, but Blair pretended to be totally innocent.

What the hell are you doing, man? came the predictable inner voice. Just last night you were fighting off regurgitation at this very thought.

Was not.

Do you know what you're doing? This isn't an experiment here. This is Jim. This is your best fucking friend. Talk about a possible screw-up.

Blair thought about a time he had done some camp counseling as a teenager, about this girl named Denise he had had a thing for. One night after a counselor's meeting, they had curled up under a pavilion, and his hand had ended up rubbing the inside thighs of her jeans. Over and over he had stroked, she totally not protesting, and the horrible thing was that another counselor sitting across the dark pavilion was watching them. And he knew it. And although he knew he should stop, knew what it looked like, he just couldn't for some reason. He had thought about that night many times, totally embarrassed to be caught in such behavior. To be so needy that he was doing it in front of another person. And although Denise apparently hadn't minded, he could still imagine what that other counselor must have thought of him. No doubt that story had been told far and wide around the campfire set. And yet here he was again, seemingly unable to stop an action that definitely might need to be re-thought later. All because of his gonads.

Jim spared his feet a brief glance, face expressionless, and Blair spread his legs, started wriggling down until he was almost lying completely flat on the sofa. Even he could see the swollen mound of pale blue denim at his crotch. His feet were permanently glued to Jim's thigh now, and yep…now they were resting innocently in his lap.

If you can read body language, Blair thought.... He read for a moment more, then waited for a commercial and said as seductively as he could, "Have you ever thought of doing me on the sofa, man?"

Jim looked right at him and said, "Do you want me to "do" you right now, Sandburg?" And his tone erased the teasing grin right off Blair's face.

"Did I say something wrong?" Blair asked, tensing.

Jim threw Blair's feet off his lap with a plop, turned off the TV, and stood up. "I don't "do" anybody, Sandburg," he said firmly.

"Jim, man, I'm sorry," Blair said, immediately sitting up. "I wasn't trying to be crude."

"You have a funny idea of what's crude and what isn't," growled Jim, heading for the bathroom.

"Jim, dammit, wait!"

"You think this is funny, Sandburg?" Jim asked, turning on him as Blair hurried after him. "You think this is some kind of interesting little experiment? I hope to god you never go after other guys like that. Someone like you could really get burnt playing with fire like that."

"I don't go after guys, period," Blair said, getting in Jim's face. "You're the one who was waxing rhapsodic about spreading my legs in the shower, man. I was just curious, that's all."

"Curious? Curious about what, Blair? Whether or not I wanted to fuck you on the floor?" Furious, Jim turned and marched straight for the bathroom.

Blair flopped against the wall, defeated. Boy, had he fucked up. He should have known not to take that route with Jim - he had known from day one that that kind of talk didn't impress his cop roommate. It wasn't Blair's preferred manner of speaking, either, but there was a time and place for everything, and he had hoped that had been both. Obviously, he had been horribly, horribly wrong.

"Jim," he said through the door. "I'm really sorry." Déjà vu, thought Blair. Wasn't I doing this last night? "I wasn't trying to jerk you around. Or be crude." He ran his hands through his hair as if to coax the thoughts out of his brain.

The door opened, and Jim said, "What do you want from me, Sandburg?"

Blair blinked.

"You want to sleep with me? It doesn't work like that, Chief. I don’t do one night stands."

Well, you sure as hell as done them before, Blair thought, but he knew what Jim meant. He meant that he didn't want to do one night stands.

When Blair didn't seem to have a ready answer, Jim raised an eyebrow and turned and went upstairs.

"Good night, Sandburg," he said, and after a while, thoughts swirling, Blair went to bed.

Jim was gone when Blair got up the next morning, and Blair was both sorry and glad. Sorry because he hoped he hadn't seriously fucked anything up, and glad because he really didn't know what to say to him anymore.

That afternoon at the station, Blair walked in on the balls of his feet, mentally prepared for just about anything. Not for Jim's business as usual greeting, though. It was like nothing had ever been said.

"Stakeout," Jim said after a while. "Tonight down at the docks. Can you make it?"

"Sure," said Blair, rubbing his palms together, glad to be helpful.

When they got there they relieved none other than Blair's old pal from arson, Drew. Things got even better when Jim spent an inordinate time discussing the previous shift with Drew's partner, Captain Martin, leaving Blair alone with Mr. Rumor Mill. The sidelong glances started in about two seconds.

"Sandburg, is it?" Drew asked. He was a tall, slender man with very short hair.

"Yep," said Sandburg.

"We hear a lot about you and Ellison down in arson," Drew said. "Sounds like you guys are some kind of super team."

"No, just regular guys," Blair said heartily. What in the hell could be taking Jim so long?

Another glance. "You a cop?"

He knows damn well I'm not, thought Blair. Instead, he said smoothly, "I'm an observer to the force. I help out major crimes when they need me."

"I thought you were Ellison's partner."

"Well, I do work with him mainly, but I work with the other folks in major crimes as well." Blair shot him another matter-of-fact smile and glanced outside. "Anything happen tonight?"

Drew hesitated. He felt compelled to push the matter, but he knew it really wasn't any of his business. He was just getting ready to reply when Jim walked back over and looked at Blair. "Ready, Chief?"

"Ready," said Blair, and giving a small half-wave to Drew, followed Jim back to the truck.

As the others left, Jim heard Drew say, "He's an odd one." Jim ignored it, but it drove home a stark realization to him. It might be okay with him, but this partnership was putting Blair at the mercy of some very negative publicity.

Gee Jim, you think so? Just realizing that after three years?

Sometime later, he said, "Sandburg, you know I've been thinking about what you said."

"Oh?" Blair blinked his eyes in curiosity.

"About gossip at the station. Maybe you're right. Maybe it's not fair for you to have to be the subject of that all the time."

"Oh, no," said Blair, knowing immediately where this was going. "Oh, no, you don't, Jim Ellison. You're not using something like this to break off our partnership-"

"Blair, I'm not trying to break off our partnership, I'm just-"

"-I make that decision, Jim," Blair said firmly, whacking the air with his hands. "I made that decision a long time ago."

"You didn't know about the gossip until two days ago," Jim pointed out dryly.

"Jim, you know you don't give a flying fuck about that gossip," Blair said.

"I happen to give a flying fuck about you, though, okay, Chief?" Jim said, and that shut Blair up.

"You should work for Hallmark," the student finally said. "You could design cards for their flying fuck division."

Jim smiled despite himself, and Blair smiled at the sight of it.

"Jesus, Jim," he said. "What the hell are we doing?"

"Last time I checked, we were on a stakeout, Sandburg."

"You know what I mean."

Jim played ignorant.

"Okay, I admit it," said Blair with more hand air cutting. "I'm curious as hell over what you've been thinking about."

"About?" Jim prompted.

"You know. And when," Blair added.

"Can you get any more cryptic over there, Sandburg?" Jim asked, putting the subject off. He peered out at the warehouse.

"Jim, please forgive me if I'm verging on the crude here, but you know, it's not everyday that I hear that someone wants to…have me in the shower." He carefully avoided the word "do." But what else could he use? He sure couldn't use fuck, that was way too scary, and making love…well, that was way too presuming.

"Don't think you're so special there," said Jim, rubbing his hands together against the cold. "For all you know I could be thinking of anybody and everybody in there. Brown, Rafe, hell, all of major crimes."

"The shower stall's a little small for that," Blair said dryly. "And besides, I have it on good authority that you're not gay."

"Well, what about that, huh?" Jim asked unexpectedly.

Blair said, "What?"

"Just what I said. I know I'm not gay. You're not either."

"And?"

"And? You know a lot of gay men who think about straight sex in their shower, Chief?"

"Oh." Blair suddenly got his point. And was again shocked when he realized that Jim really had been trying to puzzle this out. Enough to get the nerve up enough to mention it to him, Blair.

"Just because you, we, have thoughts along that vein doesn’t mean we're gay," Blair said in his best lecture tone, and Jim rolled his eyes.

"I know that, Freud," he said.

"Well, what are you asking?"

"Nothing," said Jim. "Is it cold in here to you? I thought you'd be freezing by now."

I'm having an inner warmth, Blair thought dryly. Aloud he said, "Yeah, it is cold."

"Damn," said Jim, throwing open the car door. "He just left. Call for back-up, Chief, and hang on."

It was another wild ride, Blair getting thrown all over the place, and they ended up at the LaMer Motel, a one story affair that had seen much better days. The suspect in question met a dark-haired woman on a motorcycle and they eased themselves on in to a room.

"It's not the meet," Jim said to the radio, and that left he and Blair sitting in a motel parking lot, drinking hot chocolate.

"Wonder who the woman is?" Blair speculated.

"Girlfriend, cousin, who knows?" shrugged Jim. "It's not Danny Urbano, that's for damn sure."

"Maybe he's wearing a wig," Blair suggested.

Jim shot him a "that's too dumb for words" look.

In a few moments, Simon was instructing Jim to check into the room next door and blatantly listen in with his "special hearing." Not in so many words, of course. That would have been an invasion of privacy.

"I'll get the key," Jim sighed, taking the truck keys and leaving Blair there. Or I could just go with him, Blair thought inanely. Pop up with my big tough Sentinel and say, hey…you gotta room with a queen? For a queen, his mind added, and he giggled rather nervously. Don’t fall apart here, Sandburg, he told himself sternly. Just because you and Jim have been skirting the suggestion of the two of you doing the nasty has nothing to do with the fact that you're getting ready to check in with him to a seedy motel.

"Number eight, honeymoon suite," Jim said, tossing him a key.

"You're kidding," said Blair, and realized he wasn't when they opened the door.

"Nice carpet," said Jim. "You could spill a whole plate of strawberry jello and never even know it."

"Red shag," said Blair, looking down at his feet. "I didn't even know they made that anymore."

For a fifties-built place like that, the room was fairly large. Almost a suite, but that didn't really help anything. The carpet was red, the walls were white, and the bed was heart-shaped.

"Oh my god," said Blair, laughing helplessly.

"Ssh," said Jim, standing near the other wall and trying to zero in on the sounds in the other room.

"Anything?" Blair asked after a while.

"Well, I don't think it's Danny Urbano in a wig," Jim replied. "Unless he and Danny are much closer than just plain ol' business associates."

"Romantic assignation then?" Blair asked.

"Something like that." Jim took off his coat and turned up the heat. "They even have a fridge," he said. "I'm impressed. Too bad we don't have any food."

"I guess they think that people on their honeymoon don't want to have to leave the room for any reason," Blair said matter-of-factly.

"Yeah," said Jim, and Blair was suddenly mindful that Jim had already had one of those. A honeymoon, that was.

Jim turned on the TV, the sound low, and Blair got out some schoolwork. Guess nothing had really changed between them after all. Jim sure didn't look moved at the thought of them sharing a hotel room. Not even one with a heart-shaped bed.

"This is funky," Blair said, jumping up and down on the big thing. "Hey, it's a waterbed. Oh my god." He chuckled delightedly.

"Careful there, Chief," Jim said. "I don't think you want to lie down on that bedspread."

"Don’t worry," Blair said, but sometime later he was curled up on it, fast asleep. Jim had been watching the TV with no sound, some program about Navy Seals, and keeping an ear out on the other room. Jesus, they were insatiable in there, bouncing and creaking right against the wall, their moans and indecipherable words of love just too decipherable for Jim's sensitive ears.

"Come already," he mumbled. How old was Escondo Devito, anyway? Somebody had been taking their vitamins.

Jim glanced over at Sandburg and saw the latter moving gently on the waterbed, the motion rocking him further into sleep. The student's head was cradled on his hands, but Jim still hated the thought of Blair's face anywhere near that nasty coverlet. Taking his jacket, he laid it down under Blair's head, gently moving him about until this was accomplished.

"Jim," said Blair, swallowing noisily. He looked up, blinked.

"Told you not to lay on that thing," Jim said, but he couldn't stay gruff with Blair when he looked like this. So innocent, trusting. All of fifteen-years-old. That thought was enough to send Jim back to his side of the room.

"God, baby," said Escondo Devito's female companion. "You are so big baby, so manana."

So tomorrow? Jim thought. That didn't make much sense. He watched a Navy Seal wrestle a crocodile on the former's way to a drug dealer's house in Florida. All in a day's work, ma'am.

Behind him, Blair got up and went to the bathroom. "Oh, man," he said.

Jim looked over. He knew what Blair was talking about - he had checked the bathroom out when he first came in. Throwback as this place might be to the days of Elvis love, they had actually splurged and put in a respectable size whirlpool. Just regular though, not heart-shaped.

"Oh man," said Blair again. "You know, I used to know this girl named Jenny Forster, and she had this big ol' hot tub on her deck, and we used to…." He stopped when his eyes met Jim's. "Sorry," he said.

"What the hell for?" Jim asked, wishing he had something to drink. "I'm not your boyfriend, Sandburg."

"Yeah, well, everyone thinks you are, so I'm getting kinda used to the idea of that," said Blair, and then couldn't believe he had said that.

Jim shot him a glance.

"Well, fuck, Jim," said Blair defensively. "I really don’t know what's going on with us anymore. First of all, you say you've been thinking about us slipping between the sheets and-"

"I was just kidding, Sandburg."

"No, you weren't," said Blair. "C'mon Jim. You know you weren't. And I wasn't lying when I said I had thought about it, too."

"Oh yeah, the long drawn out Harlequin scene, I remember that," said Jim, and Blair flushed, hurt.

"Well, at least mine had a bit more mystery to it than just getting leaned over in the shower and fucked up the ass!" said the harried grad student.

Jim raised an eyebrow. "I never said one thing about fucking you up the ass, Sandburg."

"Oh please." Blair stopped. This was getting out of hand. "I'm sorry, Jim," he said quietly.

Jim turned away, sucked in the tight muscles of his cheeks, then nodded.

"Look, man," said Blair, his words softer, "I don't want to screw this up, you know? I mean, Jim, you and I have been friends for a long time now. You're my best friend. Hell, I've practically built my whole world around you, man. I'm here for the long haul. I don’t want to...."

Jim was watching him, listening. "Don’t want to what?" he asked.

"I don’t want to do anything that might mess things up for us."

"Blair," said Jim, "nothing's getting messed up."

"Now you see, that is so like you," Blair said. "I see this as a possible real problem, and you don’t want to talk about it."

Another sucking-in of the cheeks. "It's one in the morning," Jim said. "It's late, we're both tired, and I've got the King of the V drug humping his brains out in the next room. I hear what you're saying, Sandburg. It's just that I'm tired, okay?"

Blair looked at him for a moment, then nodded. "You think we'll be here much longer?"

"Well, Valentino there isn't showing much signs of stopping," Jim said.

"You think I could take a bath?"

Jim stared at him. "A bath?"

"Yeah man, in that hot tub. I mean, it's not like a bath bath, it's like a Jacuzzi. You know, good for the muscles and all."

"Sandburg, I wouldn't get in that tub with a ten foot pole. There is no telling-"

"I'll rinse it out, okay?" Blair said, trying to appease, and sometime later the whole process seemed to be underway, as Jim heard Blair step splashingly into the water.

"Man, I wish I had some clean clothes," he said, his voice easily heard by Jim over the churning of the hot tub jets.

"I'll send the chauffeur home to fetch you some," Jim said in a louder tone, and Blair said, "Thank you, Uncle Jed."

After a while, Jim heard nothing from the bathroom. Adam and Eve were still trying to populate the planet in the next room. There was no way any drug deal was going off tonight. The man would be too tired to hold a gun. "Chief?" Jim called, and he rose, hitched up his pants, and moved toward the bathroom door. "You okay in there?" The door was wide open, but Jim didn't step inside. Don't even go there, Jimbo, he told himself sternly. He was still proud of himself for handling all this as well as he had.

"I just about dozed off," said Blair, splashing.

Jim said, "Be careful there, Chief."

"Jim?" Blair asked after a while. He had left the door open so he hadn't had to turn the bathroom light on. A hot tub couldn't be too overly or clinically lit. It was just wrong somehow.

"Why are you in the dark?" Jim asked, his thoughts running along that same subject.

"You can come in if you want," said Blair as matter-of-factly as he could. "Our pals still going to town?"

"Oh yeah," said Jim, stepping inside. He could easily make out the gray form of Blair lounging beneath the churning waters. His eyes adjusted quickly. Blair looked strangely vulnerable, his bare collarbones sticking up out of the white water. The ends of his hair were wet and hung in wisps across his shoulders.

Come on in, Blair thought inanely. The water is fine.

"I think they must be hustling some kind of virility drug, as strong as they're going," Jim said.

"Must be the atmosphere," Blair said, grinning.

"Must be. I still can't believe you're in that thing," Jim said. "Do you know how many strange people have stayed in this room?"

"You know, I bet you're loads of fun at parties."

"And what if the guys came in early? What would you say about being naked in the bathtub?"

"I thought you didn't care about such things," Blair pointed out blithely. "Besides, how else would I be in a bathtub? Clothed?"

"What if Romeo over there decides to make a quick exit?" Jim asked. He made a face as he put down the toilet lid, and against his better judgement, sat down on it.

"Then I'll streak naked out to the truck," Blair said.

"Sometimes there is just no reasoning with you, Sandburg," Jim sighed.

Unthinkingly, Blair said, "Yeah, and that's why you love me."

There was a very long, awkward silence.

"Just kidding, of course," Blair said rather quickly.

"I do love you," Jim said, in the most ironic voice ever. "You think I didn’t? Think I'd just let any pipsqueak live in my loft?"

"Well," said Blair, swallowing. "I'm sure my charms would be hard to resist." God, he couldn't think of a thing to say that was clever and light-hearted. Love. Now there was a word way too scary to contemplate.

Jim snorted and started to get back up to leave.

"You don't have to go," said Blair.

"Well, as much as I'd like to stay in here and chat…." Jim began dryly.

There's a shower here, Blair thought suddenly, and he had a sudden picture of himself naked and spread legged, hands bracing himself on the cool tiles of the wall. "Do you want to get in?" Blair asked. "I mean, I can get out, of course," he said, fumbling underneath Jim's unfathomable gaze. "I could listen for the bad guys, and..."

"Sandburg, how the hell could you listen-" Jim's phone rang, and he hastened to get it. "It was Simon," Jim said when he returned. "Get your clothes on, Lady Godiva, stakeout's over. Seems like lover boy wasn't our man after all. They caught some other guy with Urbano about a half hour ago."

"Okay," said Blair. "Can you give me a minute? It's been a long time since I've been in a hot tub, man. And besides, we paid for the room for the whole night, right?"

Jim stared at him. "You want to spend the night in this place, Chief? C'mon, I'm not sleeping on those sheets."

"Jim. Fuck." Blair splashed irritably.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Sandburg?"

"I don't know," said Blair. "It's just, you tell me these things, about you wanting this, and you thinking this, and then all of a sudden there's this thing between us, and…."

It's going to happen, thought Jim, suddenly, clearly. It is going to happen. He could feel the sudden rise of temperature in the room, felt his own body, tired as it was, respond immediately. Maybe he could slip next door and get some of whatever Escondo Devito was using. Like he would need it with a wet, naked Blair in the room.

Jim, hoping to god he wasn't making the biggest mistake of his life here, began taking off his shirt.

Blair stared at him, shocked into silence.

Unbuttoning the front and the buttons on the cuffs (of course he would, Blair thought, I just jerk mine over my wrists), Jim carefully removed his shirt and looked around for a safe place to put it. Not finding one up to the Ellison standards, he walked back into the other room and laid his shirt on his jacket with the rest of his clothes…his tee-shirt, his khakis, his socks, his boxers. Blair wanted some hot-tubbing, well, Blair was going to get some hot-tubbing.

When he walked back into the bathroom stark naked, Blair's mouth was already open. Jim was in a shadow to him, but it was still light enough to see quite clearly the ridges of those abs, the strong, straight length of his…oh my god.

Jesus Christ. Jesus fucking Christ.

"Scoot over," said Jim grumpily and Blair did so, sloshing his way over, eyes as wide as the Mississippi. Jim added some extra minutes on the timer and sat down against the side of the tub, catty-cornered from Blair. He stretched his long legs out and they tangled over Sandburg's, who quickly moved his.

"What's wrong?" Jim asked. "I thought you wanted me to get in."

"Oh god," said Blair, starting to laugh out of sheer panic. "Man."

"What's wrong?" Jim asked again, a smiled playing across his lips. This was actually kind of fun, seeing Sandburg squirm in this way. Mr. Big Talker.

"Nothing" said Blair. "It's just well, I never thought I'd see the two of us in a tub together."

"I thought you had a good imagination, Sandburg," Jim remarked, looking down at the foam licking the top of his biceps.

"I do," said Blair. He watched that foam, too. What in the hell is happening here? he wondered. Jim was in the hot tub with him. Big cop roommate Jim was naked. With him. In the hot tub.

"Do you want me to get out?" Jim asked, and his voice was very serious.

"No," said Blair. "I don't think I do."

"Okay." That was a start, Jim supposed.

"You really don’t have a problem with this," said Blair.

"A problem with what, Sandburg?" Jim asked calmly.

"With this." Blair's hands came out of the water with a sploosh to emphasis his point.

"Well, sitting in this thing without the benefit of disinfectant wouldn't be my first choice of things, no," said Jim irritatingly.

Okay. Time to stop being a shrinking violet, Blair told himself. He tentatively moved his legs back so that they bumped into Jim's. "About that shower," Blair said cautiously, and Jim automatically looked up at the shower head which loomed above them in the dark.

"Not that shower," Blair said, figuring Jim would know what he meant.

Oh, that again. "Yes?" Jim was very calm, and his eyes looked different. Half-lidded. Blair had seen that look before, only it hadn't been bestowed upon him, at least not very often. Usually that look had been reserved for people like Laura, Lila. Even Carolyn. Despite the warmth of the water, he shivered.

"You okay, Sandburg?" this new Jim asked solicitously.

"Yes," said Blair. You shouldn't feel nervous, he told himself. This is just Jim. This is just Jim.

"You were asking?" Jim said,

"Asking? Oh yeah. The shower. Like…is that something you think about a lot?"

"I don't know," said Jim honestly, shrugging. "I think of different things."

"And different people, right?" Blair asked.

"Not usually, no," Jim replied.

Blair pondered this for a moment. "You mean…just usually the same people over and over?"

"Usually just one," Jim said. He could feel his pulse began to race. He was really stepping out on a limb here.

"One," Blair repeated.

"Usually just you," said Jim, laying it all out.

"Really?" Blair asked. "Usually you just think about me?"

Jim shrugged like it was no big deal. "What can I say? You're an irritating little shit, Sandburg."

"Apparently," said Blair, giving a half-laugh.

"Does that scare you?" Jim asked after a while.

"No," said Blair. He felt the comforting bubbles bump up against his ribs. He felt the sold warmth of Jim's ankle against his own. "Oh, you mean being an irritating little shit?" he smiled.

Jim said nothing, instead leaning his head back and closing his eyes, giving Blair a very good view of the strong column of his neck. He had very good skin. The water clung to it like tiny drops of gelatin, life-like in their tiny shaking movements.

"Can you tell me what you think about?" Blair asked. His voice was husky, and he cleared it.

"I think about a lot of things," Jim said honestly. "I think about you sleeping in my bed."

"Really? Wow, I thought I'd get kicked out for certain if I tried that."

"You've thought about sleeping in my bed?" Jim asked, raising up his head and looking at Blair.

"Well, yeah, I've wondered what you'd do if I came upstairs during the night and just got in with you," Blair said.

"You should have tried it," Jim smiled.

"Right. Like I wanted to be slapped to kingdom come."

"Blair, I would never hit you." Jim's face changed immediately.

"I know," said Blair. "I was just kidding."

"I'd rather you not kid about that," came Jim's stern reply.

"Okay. I was just meaning that I didn’t know how you'd take that," Blair added.

Jesus, thought Jim. I've terrified the kid so much that he was afraid I would hurt him if he got into my bed. He must think I'm one mean ass son of a gun.

"Blair, I know I'm not always the most approachable guy, but I do hope you know that I'd never do something like that."

"I know," said Blair again, getting insistent and a bit irritated.

"So," said Jim, after a while. "What have you thought?"

Blair sighed, leaned his head back against the wet tile at the edge of the tub. "Well, I've told you about my Harlequin urges," he said dryly, and Jim smiled. He hoped Blair knew he was kidding about that. He had actually really liked hearing Blair describe that little incident. The thought of standing in that doorway watching Blair touch himself was really, really hot.

"Tell me again," said Jim.

"No way," Blair laughed

"No, seriously. I'll listen this time."

"Right."

"Come on," said Jim, and his smile was so loopy that Blair gave in.

"Okay," the younger man said. "Well, you know most of it. You come downstairs, you watch me jack off, then you get into bed with me."

"Elegantly put," Jim snorted. "And they say romance is dead."

"Hey, I'm doing the best I can here, okay, man? I'm a little out of my element."

"Tell me what you and that co-ed did in that hot tub," said Jim.

"Jim, you know I never kiss and tell," said Blair.

"Right."

"I don't! I'm a gentleman."

There was a silence before Jim said, "Are you dating anybody now?"

"You," said Blair dryly. At Jim's look, he said, "Well, that is where this is going, right? C'mon, Jim, we both know the score here. You're a Sentinel; I'm your Shaman. What other kind of relationships are we going to find, man? We're stuck with each other."

"Sandburg, I was stuck with you while I was seeing Lila. And Laura, and Veronica. Didn't mean you were my boyfriend. You were stuck with me during Molly and Maya and god knows who else. I don't recall you considering me your boyfriend, either."

"But those are all in the past now, aren't they, Jim?" Blair said calmly. He was amazed how much they were saying here in this shadowy room between worlds. Maybe they should buy a hot tub for the loft. They'd get much more said.

"For me, yes. But how about you?"

"Wait a minute here, Jim. Back up. What do you mean, for you?" Blair asked.

A shrug of finely cut shoulders. He is really beautiful, Blair thought. Not to mention strong, and loyal, and responsible. Male or not, I could do much, much worse, in so many ways.

"I mean that I'm pretty tired of that game, Chief."

"Are you saying that you're not planning to date anybody else?"

Jim hesitated. They were so close, what should he do? Risk it all? "I'm saying I'm not looking for anybody," he said.

"May I ask why?"

"You may, but I think you've got some questions to answer first."

"Okay," said Blair slowly. "Like what?"

"Like where you think this is going."

Blair took a very deep breath. He could feel Jim's skin against his leg like a brand. "I'm not sure," he said honestly, "but we're in a hot tub together, and I think that says something."

"People in Scandinavia do it all the time," Jim said reasonably.

"I hate to point this out to you, Jim, but we're not in Scandinavia."

"So why do you think we're in the hot tub, Darwin?" Jim asked, and Blair thought he would explode with impatience.

"I don't know! You're the one who got in with me."

"You want me to leave?"

Blair let out a huffing breath. "No."

Jim sat back. "Okay, Sandburg," he said. "You always say I never open up."

"You don't," said Blair.

"You want me to say this or not?"

"Okay, okay. Yes. I do." And Blair did. Very much.

"You're right. I have wondered where this was all going." Jim took a wet hand and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

Blair had to stop himself from reaching over and touching him. "You okay?" he asked.

"Yes," said Jim, getting back to the conversation at hand. "I'm not completely stupid. I had some ideas in the back of my head, but nothing I wanted to really consider. I'm not a big believer in fate, Chief. I like to think I control my own destiny."

"I know, but-"

"Hang on, Yogi, just let me finish," Jim said, and Blair shut up. "I've done some shitty things to you, Sandburg. Sometimes I did them to push you away."

"I figured that," said Blair, and Jim shot him a look. "Was it because you were afraid we depended on each other too much?" Blair asked.

"Maybe."

"I can understand that. I mean, I don't have a problem with that. I know I depend on you, man, but you…wow, that would be hard for you."

Jim nodded, didn't even challenge Blair on it. "Then I allowed myself to think a few things," Jim continued. He couldn't believe he was saying all of this. It was like he had swallowed some kind of truth serum. Or had suddenly received some kind of desperate inner knowledge that made him realize that this was really it. He was here, Sandburg was there. Start swimming toward him, Ellison. "Nothing serious," he said. "I knew you were a ladies man and I knew that one day you would really like one of those co-eds and decide to do your own thing. And that was only fair. I don’t expect you not to do that, Sandburg."

"So you decided to try to cut me out."

Jim shrugged. "Do you blame me?"

"No," said Blair. "I know you've been hurt before."

Jim looked uncomfortable at that, but didn’t say anything.

"So now you're giving into the inevitable?" Blair asked.

"I can't ask you to stay with me," Jim said simply.

"I'm an adult, Jim," said Blair. "I'm old enough to make my own choices."

"I just want to make sure you know I'd never ask you."

"I do know that," Blair said dryly. "God, do I know that."

"So," said Jim. "Here we are."

"Yes," said Blair, looking at their watery location. His skin was getting very prune-like, but he didn’t particularly care. "Not exactly a Hallmark card, but strange enough," he added.

Jim laughed, and Blair was transfixed at the way the sudden emotion transformed his face.

"You ever made love in a hot tub, Jim?" Blair asked, his stomach suddenly grinding with excitement.

"Sandburg," began Jim, obviously about to go into defensive mood.

Blair just laughed uncertainly. "I'm not saying we hit the sheets here, Jim."

Jim was silent. He wasn't sure he was going to protest against that if they did.

"This is a very big step," said Blair very seriously.

"Too big?" Jim asked, his stomach suddenly contacting in nerves.

"I don't think so," said Blair, testing the words. "It's not like I don't love you, Jim, I do. It's just that…before two days ago I hadn't even seriously considered this option."

"Hhm," said Jim.

"I guess I was just living the life of the blissfully ignorant. Even though," Blair admitted with a sly smile, "I've had some great dreams about you, man."

"This isn't just about sex, Sandburg," Jim growled.

"You're the one spreading my asscheeks in the shower," Blair couldn't help but say, and he enjoyed the flush on Jim's face.

"I'm sorry I told you that," Jim grumbled.

"I'm not," said Blair. "I have to admit it threw me at first. Just the thought of me starring in somebody's fantasies like that…."

"Went to your head, huh?" Jim asked dryly.

Blair laughed and said, "Yeah, maybe a little."

"Well, don't. I never said you were any good."

"Hey, I'm the best," said Blair.

Jim’s eyes caught his, and they held across the small expanse of the hot tub.

"Do you want to kiss me?" Blair whispered, licking his lips.

Jim hesitated. He had never thought about it being like this, so clinical, so rehearsed. But god, that mouth. He nearly zoned just thinking about it. Not to mention looking across at it now, as Blair sat naked in that water.

"That might not be such a great idea," said Jim.

"Why not?" Blair frowned.

Jim grimaced, looked away. "Because…."

"Because you're afraid things might get out of hand?" As always, Blair was reading his mind.

"Maybe," he admitted. "I don't want to pressure you, Chief."

"I'm the one offering," said Blair.

"I don’t want to be a one night stand, either," Jim said gravely. "This isn't just a romp in the hay here, Sandburg. This is pretty serious."

"Jim, if you don't think I think the idea of us making love isn't serious, then you seriously don't know me, pal." It was Blair's turn to be honest. "When I think of you touching me, man…." He shivered, and it was all Jim could do not to reach over and take him in his arms. "It's…you're touching me everywhere, man, and not just my outer parts. Do you know what I mean? You're in here, Jim," and he put his hand over his heart in the splashing water.

"I know," Jim said huskily.

"Oh fuck," said Blair, and moving, he scooted over, throwing his legs over Jim's and wrapping his arms around Jim's bare neck.

Jim heard both their breaths hitch as he wrapped his arms around Blair's bare waist under the water.

"Kiss me, Jim," Blair whispered, pulling his face against Jim's, and dying and heading for heaven, Jim did just that, his open mouth moving across Sandburg's full lips.

"Jesus, Jim," moaned Blair as their mouths met, wet, Jim's sucking on his lower lip. He could not believe the absolute blast of excitement that blazed a path down his spine. "Kiss me," he murmured again, and Jim kissed him harder now, closing his eyes and groaning as their mouths opened and he felt Blair's tongue touch his own. Blair held him tighter, one hand moving to the back of Jim's head as their heart rates climbed all over the place. From his position in the water, Blair could feel Jim's erection swell against his leg. Blair was so excited he thought he might faint.

I'll never get enough of this, Jim thought, pressing Blair as close to him as he could possibly manage, kissing him harder and harder, sucking his taste right from his lush mouth. I never want to stop, never.

They kissed for so long that the hot tub stilled around them. Only then did Blair pull away, so hard with desire that he thought he might faint. "Sure we can't get on that bed?" Blair whispered.

"Let' stake this home, Chief," Jim said, and still holding onto Blair, he pulled them both up, his arms never leaving him.

"Sorry," said Blair, embarrassed, looking down at his attention-seeking erection.

Jim chuckled and said, "You're in good company. And don’t be sorry." He got them towels, and Blair held onto Jim's wet arm as he stepped out of the tub.

"You know, this didn't turn out to be such a bad place after all," Blair said, feeling almost dizzy as he wrapped the towel around his waist. "Our first kiss," he said lightly, trying not to be too sentimental, but failing miserably.

"Yes," said Jim. He looked at him with the softest eyes Blair had ever seen on Jim. This must have been what Laura had seen. What Veronica had seen. What he was lucky enough to be seeing now. "Get dressed," Jim said, "so we can go home." And he leaned over and gave Blair a quick kiss, which Blair returned.

Feeling so shaky he could barely stand, Blair pulled on his clothes as Jim went into the other room and dressed into his.

"You sure you don't want to try this nice bed?" Blair said jokingly to Jim as they both fastened their pants.

"You'd be the only person to tempt me into it," Jim said, and Blair thought that was a pretty nice thing to say.

They finished dressing, made their way to the door. Once there, Jim turned around to look at the room, and Blair had to stop himself from bumping right into him. Which wouldn't be so bad, he considered.

"Didn't turn out to be such a bad room, did it, Chief?" Jim said, repeating Blair’s earlier words, and Blair looked up at him, face soft.

"Nope," he said.

With one final look around, they left, closing the door behind them.

On the way home, they said little, Jim turning the heater up and exchanging a few smiles with his suddenly silent roommate. Blair was rarely at a loss for words, but this situation was rather beyond him. He and Jim were sitting in the truck, as always. Only just a few moments before, they had been sitting naked together in a hot tub, making out like there was no tomorrow. At the memory, Blair shivered.

"Cold?" Jim asked kindly.

"No," said Blair, shooting him a grateful smile.

In return, Jim reached over and patted his thigh briefly. Then they drove him, both smiling and lost in their own thoughts.

Once in the loft, though, Blair felt himself slipping away from what had just happened. After all, they were home now, back to their old roles of Jim the cop and Blair the student. Not Jim and Blair the lovers. Blair gave Jim an uneasy smile as he moved to put his stuff down back in his room.

Jim stopped, hesitated. This night had been much, much more than he had ever anticipated. If they never touched again, he could take it. It might leave him with no more than a memory, but what a memory. He could live on that for ages. "Blair," he said quietly, his soft tones floating through the loft. "You know you can stay upstairs if you want to."

Blair nodded, not looking at him, and when Jim disappeared into the bathroom, Blair sat down hard on his bed as if the air had been knocked right out of him. He had kissed Jim. They had finally taken the plunge. He closed his eyes, and he was back in that gray bathroom, practically sitting in Jim's lap, his arms wrapped around the wet expanse of Jim's skin as they pushed together, their lips hungrily tasting the other…and it felt great. His groin stirred again, and he let out a deep breath as he tilted his head back and thought.

Upstairs. He, Blair Sandburg, upstairs in a man's bed. And not only in a man's bed, but most likely, in said man's bed forever.

Forever.

Flashes of female faces and skin jumped into his mind - Molly with her sweet smile and her welcoming, curvy body, Maya with that broken accent and unconscious innocence, Sam with her unpredictable moods and teasing flash of white teeth. No more of that. No more of any of that.

The little voice in his head said, "So what? You don’t date Molly anymore. Maya's gone for good, and you and Sam have long been over. You want to pass up something like you could have with Jim for relationships like that?

Jim left the bathroom and padded up the stairs, his heart pounding despite his best efforts. He didn't say anything to Blair, thought he had said quite enough. Blair knew where he stood; now, it was up to his younger partner to make the final decisions.

Blair took his time in the bathroom, looked down at his still hard cock, touched it gently, remembering how Jim's had looked in comparison. Thought of that hard cock upstairs waiting for him. Attached to Jim. Attached to hard-bodied, sleek, focused, determined Jim. Jim, who apparently loved him and was ready to give everything up for him.

It was that final thought that un-did him, and with a set of his chin, Blair pulled on boxers and a tee-shirt and walked steadily up the stairs, his heart booming with every step. When he stood at the top, suddenly uncertain, he saw that Jim was already in bed, scooted way over, covers pulled back on the side nearest Blair in an obvious gesture which said, this is your space. Jim was setting his clock. He looked over at Blair and said, "Too weird for you, Chief?"

"No," Blair denied rather loudly, slipping into the bed and pulling the heavy comforter up and over him.

There was another silence as Blair became very aware of the endless gulf of space between them.

"Good night, Chief," Jim said quietly, and Blair thought, this is it? I'm in his bed, and he's just saying good night and turning over? But that was indeed what it looked like, and after a long silence, Blair found himself relaxing and doing exactly the same thing.

Beside him, Jim thought. Oh yeah.

In the morning, Blair woke up on his side facing the stairs, and he realized immediately that he wasn't alone. No, he could feel the comforting warmth of Jim's body spooned right up behind him, and one of Jim's big hairy arms was thrown lightly around his waist.

Jim could feel the ka-boom of Blair's heart.

"Morning," he said rather gruffly, tightening his grip on Blair's belly.

"Morning," Blair said. His own hand lay lightly over Jim's arm.

"What's your schedule for today?" Jim asked, his voice almost normal. The morning was almost normal.

"Nothing," Blair said. "Just some schoolwork. You?"

"I thought I'd maybe run by the station, but I need to re-grout the tile around the shower at one point." His thumb rubbed across Blair's belly absently and it was all Blair could do not to shiver underneath his hands.

"That sounds manly," Blair managed.

"Sounds like a pain in the ass," Jim said, removing his arm from Blair and starting to pull away. He was startled when Blair latched onto the arm with his hand and pulled him back down into spoon position.

Okay, thought Jim. I can go with this.

"You gotta go right now?" Blair asked, and his hand stroked the hair on Jim's arm absently. It's a man's arm, Blair thought. Then…it's Jim's arm. That made him feel a lot better.

"No," said Jim, his voice deepening in timbre.

Blair continued to rub Jim's arm for a while before suddenly shifting and turning in his arms to face him.

"Hi," he said, feeling way out of his league.

"Hello," said Jim, amused. Blair had thrown his arms around his neck and their faces were very close. Jim wrapped his arms around Blair's back, rubbed his cotton-covered skin absently.

"You having regrets?" Blair asked.

Jim resisted the urge to be a smart-ass and simply said, "No," still amused.

"You realize that doing this will justify everything everyone has ever said about us," Blair mused with raised eyebrows.

"Do I look like a man who cares?" Jim inquired.

"No," said Blair, feeling the weight of Jim's gaze upon his mouth. Parting his lips, he leaned over and lightly kissed Jim.

Jim kissed him back, his hands restless on Blair's back. It was a brief kiss, but Blair didn't pull away far. "I guess I need to brush my teeth, huh?" he asked. "Morning breath must be hell for a sentinel."

"Not yours," said Jim, before leaning over and crushing Blair's mouth against his.

"Not my morning breath or not my sentinel?" Blair breathed against Jim's lips, and Jim said, "Both" before returning to the task at hand, which was kissing Blair until he couldn't see straight.

"Ah," Blair moaned into his mouth, and Jim ran a hand down the younger man's back, fumbling with the bottom of his tee-shirt until his hand slipped up inside, eagerly caressing the smooth skin.

"You taste so fucking good," Jim allowed, and that little admission shot fire through Blair like no woman's touch had ever done before.

"So do you," said Blair, and it was true. He had cared for Jim for a long time, admired him, loved him, but now he knew for sure how much deeper it was than all of that. It was so deep that he hadn't previously imagined such a depth. In for the count now, Blair rolled over on top of Jim, wrapping his hands around the back of Jim's skull and pulling his head as close to his as he could manage as their tongues dueled endlessly in their mouths. Below him, he could feel Jim's cock pushing hard against his thigh.

Groaning, Jim ran a hand all the way down Blair's back and underneath his boxers, cupping a firm bare cheek.

This slowed Blair down a bit. Jim felt it, of course, and immediately gave Blair's bare buttocks a reassuring pat before sliding his hand back up and out of the shorts.

"No," said Blair, stopping the kisses and pulling back to take a breath. "That's okay. It's just…I'm still kinda new at all this, Jim."

"That's okay," said Jim, trying to cuddle Blair against him. "There's no rush, baby."

"Baby," Blair mused, breaking out in a laughing smile.

Jim shrugged. "Okay, Chief. Sandburg. Darwin. Whatever."

Baby. Of course he should have known that Jim would say something like that. That man had never met a person he hadn't nicknamed. No doubt his bed partners got to hear all kinds of endearments.

"That’s okay, darling," Blair smiled wickedly, and Jim popped him lightly on the rear, chuckling, before moving Blair back over to his side of the bed.

"Breakfast time, I think," Jim said, with much more calm than he felt. Blair had no idea how this was killing him, being so cool and nonchalant about everything, when in reality, he just wanted to pull Blair down to him and hold onto him until the end of time. Or thereabouts.

Jim could feel Blair's eyes on him as he stood uneasily, waited for Jim before they started down the stairs together. He's so apprehensive, Jim thought, wishing he could do something to alleviate some of Sandburg's fears. Was he doing the right thing by pushing this? Did Sandburg really want this?

"Bathroom," said Blair, as if he needed to announce that. Shutting the door behind him, he closed his eyes and took a very long, deep, silent breath. Oh god. Oh god. Moving to the mirror, he looked at himself deeply, studiously, as if trying to locate signs of change. His lips were swollen from all that kissing, he thought, running his fingers lightly across them. His body was hard and hammering for attention. He was desperate to alleviate some of the unneeded pressure, but should he? What did Jim really have in mind for the day? Not that Jim couldn't get him right back into this state, but still....

When Blair came out, still unfulfilled, Jim had rounded up most of the necessities for breakfast. Squeezing Blair's arm as he passed him, Jim headed for the bathroom as Blair finished up things in the kitchen.

My god, thought Jim, nearly groaning out loud as he released his throbbing cock from his boxers. In the shower, all he could think of was Blair's mouth, Blair's tongue, the feel of Blair's cool skin underneath his hands…and Blair spread-legged before him in the shower, of course. As long as he lived, he wouldn't forget that little image.

"Breakfast is ready," Blair announced, and they sat down and ate, just like any other leisurely Saturday morning.

Then Jim said, "Blair, if you're not okay with this, it's not too late to back out."

"Jim," Blair replied, giving a half-laugh, "I think it was too late the first time I laid eyes on you, man." He raised a sardonic eyebrow.

"Yeah," said Jim happily, digging into his eggs. That was a good enough answer for him.

They cleaned up the dishes, and everything had changed. They had always touched, picked, cut up, but now Blair knew where things could go when Jim's big hands fondled his shirt sleeve, ghosted across his hips as he slid past him to put up a plate. We are not going to get a fucking thing done today, Blair thought happily.

When the dishes were done, Jim stood behind him and wrapped his arms around Blair's waist. He didn’t know whose pulse was louder, Blair’s or his own.

"Uhm," said Blair, closing his eyes and leaning back against Jim's chest, "this is nice."

"You said it, Chief," said Jim, heart-felt, and for a moment they just stood there, rocking together.

"So," Blair finally said. "To the hardware store, I guess?"

But something uncertain in his tone made Jim keep embracing him and saying, "I'm in no hurry. You in a hurry, Chief?" And to punctuate that remark, Jim moved his face against the back of Blair's hair until he got a good purchase on Blair's ear with his lips. Nibbling, he began sucking the soft earlobe while Blair's chest began moving in and out quite a bit faster.

"Jim," he breathed, "I gotta tell you, man, I have this thing about my ears," and Jim smiled in triumph and moved his tongue teasingly around the shell of Blair's ear until the younger man was panting like a freight train.

When Jim stopped for breath, Blair slid around in his arms and sought his lips eagerly, mouth open, tongue wet and searching.

"Not that I don't really like kissing you, Sandburg," Jim whispered against Blair's lips after a while, "but I'm sorta getting this build up kind of thing you know?" And he moved his mouth across Blair's prickly jawline to his neck, where he sucked long and hard on a particularly tasty spot.

"You wanna see me all spread out naked in the shower?" Blair asked. "Is that what you're asking here, Jim?" and Jim gave out something akin to a growl as he propelled Blair over to the sofa.

Clutching onto Jim for dear life, Blair nipped at Jim harder and more frantically, his hands running down Jim's back and across the back of his sweatpants, which made Jim say, "I take it you're in agreement here, Sandburg?"

"I think we are definitely on the same plane, man," said Blair, and Jim half-carried Blair around and laid him down on the couch, moving back to pull at Blair's clothes. The tee shirt ruched up over Blair's furry belly and chest, and Jim bent over and began tasting all of Blair's body.

"Oh man, oh man," said Blair, hands moving crazily across Jim's neck and head as Jim licked his way up the cushy hair to latch onto a succulent little nipple. Blair's cries turned to "Oh god, oh god," as he grasped, thrusting his hips up into the air.

"Those have got to come off, Sandburg," Jim growled, and Blair obligingly lifted his hips to let Jim pull his sweatpants down and off. He wore nothing underneath them, and Jim looked up at him with hot, knowing eyes.

"Someone was prepared," Jim said, turning his eyes back to feast on the sight that was Sandburg, the strong thighs, the straight, wide cock that rose glistening from its nest of curly dark hair.

"Waiting for you, buddy," Blair managed. "Only for you."

Jim reached for Blair's cock, then looked up at him. Blair, mouth open and swollen, his blue eyes dark and glazed with passion, could only breath heavily as Jim said, "Last chance, Sandburg. You know what this means to me."

"It means the same thing to me, too, Jim," said Blair, and his rich voice was deep and sure.

"Then hang on, buddy," Jim said, and leaning over, he took Blair's cock in his strong hand and licked it like a lollipop.

"Oh, god, Jim," said Blair, bucking. Grinning satisfactorily, Jim set upon the task before him, concentrating on giving Blair the time of his life as he moved up and down on the student, literally salivating over the texture and scent of his new lover.

"Oh yeah," Blair was moaning, his voice this sexy little whine, and it just made Jim hotter as his hand helped his mouth carry the smaller man to the edge of a cliff he would have sworn was the highest he had ever visited.

"Jim!" cried Blair, thrusting so high he was almost dislocating his back, but Jim knew the end was near now, felt Blair swell in his mouth even as the cop tried to hang onto his writhing roommate. "Yeah, yeah, yeah," Blair was crying, "Oh, YEAH!" and he came in a blaze of glory, his hot liquid spurting into Jim’s eager mouth with the force of Old Faithful. Jim had never done the swallowing routine before, and that was different, but it was Blair, dammit, so he made himself savor every drop of it as it slid down his throat with a satisfying ease.

"You didn’t have to swallow," Blair managed to say when Jim looked up to smugly regard the results of his handiwork.

In response, Jim just stuck out his tongue and licked the remains of Blair off of his own lower lip.

Blair hummed at the sight, looking both ravished and ravishing. "Well, James Ellison," he said, reaching out a limp hand to flick a finger over Jim’s cheekbone.

"What, Chief?" Jim asked, still triumphant as he slid a rather possessive hand around Blair’s waist.

"Now it’s your turn."

Jim’s smile deepened, and Blair could have sworn a flutter of shyness danced across his face. "I’m fine," he said in a very husky voice. He took Blair’s hand, squeezed it.

"Well!" said Blair, recovering enough to be astonished, "Now who’s looking like the Hallmark card?"

"I’ll show you Hallmark," said Jim. Sitting up quickly, he pushed Blair back down on the sofa and moved right on top of him. Kissing him deeply, heatedly, he thrust against Blair’s bare thigh so that the younger man could feel just what indeed was waiting there for him.

"Oh, ho!" said Blair against his mouth, pushing back, and Jim grunted and began the dance. "This what you want, Ellison?" he asked.

When Jim murmured, "Yep," Blair slid his hand down between them and went for the sweatpants. He could feel the firm flatness of Jim’s belly as he slid his hand inside and searched for the long, firm column of flesh he knew was waiting within.

Jim groaned when the goal was located.

"Wow," Blair whispered, his words hot against Jim’s skin, and he tried for a handhold and a stroke.

To his extreme gratification, Jim jerked in a most reassuring manner.

"Like that, baby?" Blair asked with some satisfaction, and Jim’s moans of pleasure were enough as Blair shifted around enough to start stroking for real.

"Yeah," Jim said, throwing his head back, and the scientist in Blair reared its head long enough to think, fascinating how even the most alpha of animals are so needy and vulnerable in this moment. Soon, however, he was out of the observation game and back in the real one.

"C’mon baby," he said, finding that he loved saying this, even though not nearly as much as watching Jim thrust blindly against his hand and leg, desperate for release. It came soon, too, as the cries on Jim’s lips intensified, and when he started shouting out, "Blair!" Blair nearly came again just for the principle of the thing.

It was wild, seeing Jim like he was afterwards, all breathless and spent, and Blair took advantage of that for some downright cuddling. Gently he cleaned Jim up with his pair of discarded sweatpants, and Jim managed, "Those better not be mine, Sandburg."

"Heaven forbid," said Blair, his lips twitching, and Jim looked up and their eyes met.

"Love you," Blair said quietly, quite serious, and Jim nodded. God, what a world they had just stepped into. He hoped that they could handle it.

You’ve been handling it for the past three years, he thought.

As though on cue, the phone rang, and Jim sat up, his hand on Blair’s side, and when he hung up, he said, "Simon," although Blair had already figured that out.

"Into the office later this afternoon," said Jim.

"Guess the honeymoon’s over, huh?"

"Yeah," said Jim, his face sliding into an unexpected smile, the kind that lights up the room like an incandescent bulb.

"Yeah, well you owe me," Blair said, sitting up and trying to pull himself together. This was a bit hard to do when one was only wearing a tee-shirt. "I thought sure I’d get Paris or at least Katmandu." He tried to pull his shirt down over his groin, and Jim suddenly found that very, very fetching.

"Katmandu?" Jim asked. "Sandburg, I don’t plan on letting you out of the loft for a week," and his ears turned pink, that was so embarrassing to say.

"Oh, really?" Blair grinned, delighted. "And how are you going to stop me, big guy?" and Jim just chuckled, looking even more discomfited. Blair watched him for a moment, hands still pooled loosely in his groin, and said, "Guess I shouldn’t have said that, huh? I mean, about the honeymoon. I wasn’t trying to jump the gun or anything here."

Jim wrinkled his brow, looked confused.

"About us," said Blair, clarifying. "I mean…"

"Oh," said Jim. The frown deepened. "Sandburg, I thought we got that cleared up last night, the serious thing."

"Okay," said Blair, nodding, "because this is like, "it" for me, you know. You okay with that?"

"I thought that was what we were doing here," said Jim, surprised, and Blair’s face split into relief.

"Good," he said, breathing out a long rush of air. "Now, Jim, man, are you going to hand me my pants there?"

"The ones you cleaned up with?"

"Well, hell, in case you haven’t noticed, I’ve got nothing else to put on here, big guy."

"So?" asked Jim, raising one eyebrow.

Now Blair felt himself be the one to flush. "You are bad," the younger man said, turning over and crumpling into the sofa, trying to scrunch up his bare ass but only succeeding in sticking it out and making it more visible than ever.

Jim was fascinated. Immediately he began touching the curve of Blair’s bare skin there, studying the soft texture, the firm roundness.

"Jim," said Blair rather breathlessly.

Jim said nothing, just shifted until he had a better angle. Lying down beside the student, he leaned sideways on one elbow and began studying Blair’s bottom.

"Something going on back there that I should know about?" Blair asked, feeling a bit exposed.

"Just marking my territory," Jim replied.

Blair’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline. "I cannot believe you just said that," but Jim was laughing as he traced a finger down the crack of Blair’s ass. There was a moment of silence, and Blair said, "Jim."

"What?"

"I’ve never done anything like this before."

"Ah," said Jim.

"Have you?"

Jim’s blue eyes fixed upon his like lasers. "What do you think?"

"I don’t know," Blair said, shrugging defensively. "I mean, it’s not something you usually share at cocktail parties. Well, depends on the parties, I guess," he added.

Jim just shook his head and rolled his eyes. "You’re the first, Chief," he said.

Blair nodded. "You, too," and for some reason those simple, trusting words touched Jim.

"If you think there’s gossip now, Chief…." His voice trailed off and he went back to caressing Blair’s backside studiously.

"We telling anybody?" Blair looked very serious.

Jim thought about this; his jaw worked. Looking over at Blair, he said, "I don’t know, Chief."

Blair nodded. "I understand, believe me," he said. "Look at your job. Even at the university…people can be funny." His face scrunched up despite himself. "Especially us," he added humorously.

"Laugh it up," said Jim, patting Blair’s butt. "Guess we oughta do some more talking about that later, but now we gotta go. Station."

Blair groaned, turned over, yanking his tee-shirt down toward his groin.

Jim stood, shaking his head. "Nothing I haven’t seen before, Chief," he reminded Blair in a soft voice.

"I know, but…." said Blair as Jim reached out and pulled him to his feet. Wrapping their arms around each other, they stood there for a while in the circle of each other’s arms. "Uhm," said Blair, with one last squeeze, and Jim leaned down and kissed him lightly on the mouth. That was probably a mistake, he thought, using all his willpower to pull away from those lush lips. He would never get to work again on time if he didn’t start working on control now.

They dressed and headed for the door, both used to this well-known groove. In the truck, they shared a couple of looks so goofy that Hallmark would have sued, and by the time they plowed their way into the station, only inches apart as usual, both were absolutely glowing.

"Okay, what are you two up to?" Simon glowered when they entered his office.

"Nothing," said Jim, which made him extremely suspect.

"It better not have anything to do with work, or that male exotic dancer that came in here this morning looking for Drew down in arson."

Blair’s mouth dropped as he and Jim exchanged quick glances. "What?" Blair asked, immediately starting to laugh. Drew, huh? Oh, wasn’t that the just desserts. "I hate I missed that," he said.

"At least we’ve got a little dignity up here," said Simon, getting back to work assignments.

Jim said, "C’mon Sir, you know better than that."

That evening after wrapping things up, Blair and Jim got their coats and eaded toward the elevator. Blair's heart was absolutely thumping, wondering what would happen at the loft when they got home. When they stepped inside the elevator, however, they both had a pleasant surprise...Lt. Faison Drew.

They nodded, then Blair turned and looked at Jim. Their eyes locked, and mischief met mischief.

"Hey Jim," Blair said. "You know what I heard today? That some guy down in Arson had a male stripper come in for his birthday."

"You don’t say?" said Jim, crossing his arms across his chest and looking very disturbed at this piece of news. "A male stripper? Now, I heard it was an old boyfriend."

"I heard it might have been a current boyfriend."

"The good thing about gossip, Chief, is how easy it is to spread it around." And they both turned and looked right at Faison Drew.

"Hey, it wasn’t my idea!" said the flustered detective. "Somebody did that as a prank, man! I sure wouldn’t have called in a male stripper for myself!"

"No need to apologize, man," said Blair. "We understand. People will just say anything about you, you know? Especially if you’re not around to defend yourself."

Drew had no choice but to look totally abashed. "Oh, man," he said.

"Trust me," said Blair. "We know how you feel. What was it I heard the other day, Jim? That we were "cozy?"

"I think it was that you were my boy toy, Chief."

"Oh yeah, boy toy. That was it." And they looked at Drew again.

"Look, I’m sorry, I really, really am. Believe me, I’ve been paid back in kind today, okay, guys?" He looked most anxious for those elevator doors to open. Jim and Blair said nothing, just smiled at him as he hastily fell out the door and ran down the hallway, glad to get away. When the doors closed behind him, both Blair and Jim started laughing.

"Hi five, man," said Blair, and they went through that little ritual before getting out at their own destination, the garage.

There was a moment of silence as they got fastened into the truck. Then Blair said, "You know, Jim. Maybe we were kind of hard on him."

Jim shot him a quizzical glance.

"I mean, after all, it’s not just gossip now. It’s truth."

Jim made a contemplative face. "Good point. Maybe we should go back and apologize." They looked at each other.

"Nah," they both said.

"C’mon my little boy toy," Jim said, pulling out into the evening traffic, "time to go home."

"That’s big boy toy to you."

"Oh really? Well, I can’t really deny that," said Jim, and Blair widened his eyes and giggled a bit deliriously. Then he sobered a bit.

"A stripper," Blair mused. "Talk about what goes around comes around."

"Yep," said Jim. He turned the truck toward home. "Of course," he added, "a phone call helps," and as Blair turned to stare at him, Jim just chuckled and took his boy toy home.

The End