"Oh, brother," said Jim Ellison.

Blair glanced over at him from his task of slicing up tomatoes. "What?" he asked.

Jim rolled his eyes and threw a large brown envelope down on the counter.

"What?" Blair persisted. He glanced at the envelope. It didn’t look like a bill. Some kind of threat? Blackmail? Blair looked back up at Jim, whose face had closed up into nothing as the bigger man shook his head and moved around the kitchen island.

"It’s nothing," Jim said.

Right, thought Blair. Curious now, he looked over at the envelope and tried, "What?" one more time.

He was already wiping his hands on a handy towel when Jim said, "It’s from my father."

"Oh," said Blair, pulling back. Personal, then. "Nothing wrong, is it?"

"No," Jim sighed tiredly. "It’s a voucher for two airline tickets to Paris."

"What?" Blair exclaimed. He paused in his culinary efforts.

"For Valentine’s Day," Jim said dryly. "Dear James, just a little something for you and a special friend. Courtesy of your dear old dad."

"Wow!" said Blair. "And here I thought candy was nice."

"Well, it’s stupid," Jim declared, glaring at the discarded envelope. He shook his head again, speechless in his irritation.

"You are going, right?" Blair asked.

Jim raised an incredulous face. "Right, Sandburg," he said, voice dripping with irony. "I’m just going to call him up and say, oh, thanks, dad, I think I’ll just pop on over this weekend and stroll along the Champs-Elysees. Of course I’m not going!"

"Why not?" asked Blair, round-eyed. "It’s free tickets, man. I mean, I do understand why you might not want to take them," he added, trying to drop into sympathetic mode. That didn’t last long, however. "You have to admit," he said, giving a little laugh, "that flying to Paris would be a major blast, man. Free tickets, wow. Can I look?"

Jim gave a nod of assent, and watched Blair wipe his hands and gingerly pick up the small brown envelope. "For you and a special friend," the younger man read. He gave Jim a nudge-nudge eyebrow-raised look. "First class! Oh, man." He shook his head, curly hair flipping in the draft the movement created. "Too bad, really," he sighed.

"Yeah," Jim grunted.

The week passed, and Jim and Blair sat on a stakeout in one of the worst parts of Cascade. It had been raining all day, and neither of their moods was exactly at high tide.

"Do you think there are actually places in the world where it doesn’t rain?" Blair asked, staring gloomily at their lovely broken-down warehouse setting.

"Tahiti," said Jim.

"Tahiti," breathed Blair, closing his eyes. "Blue seas, warm sun. White sand, tanned bathing beauties in floral sarongs."

"Drinks with umbrellas," said Jim.

"Free drinks with umbrellas."

"No cell phones."

"No perps," Blair said. Then he added, "Free tickets to Paris."

"Paris is not Tahiti," Jim pointed out.

"No, but it’s Paris," Blair replied.

There was a silence.

"I know it sounds crazy," Blair said with a half-laugh, "but I think you should go, man. I mean, why not, right?"

"There’s still the matter of a hotel room," said Jim.

"It’s paid for," Blair replied. "I looked in the envelope, remember?"

"Oh yeah." Jim stared moodily out the window.

"You could take somebody," Blair suggested helpfully.

"Oh? Like who, you?" Jim asked dryly.

"Sure!" the student said, giggling. "Hey, can’t I be your special friend?"

"I think this is his way of encouraging romance," Jim said in an ironic tone.

"Well, seriously," said Blair. "Don’t you know anyone? I mean, I would hate to pass up a free ticket to Paris if it were me."

"Simon would have a cow."

"Tough," said Blair unsympathetically. "You have vacation, right?"

Jim pursed his lips, looked away.

Blair shrugged. "I’d go if I were you," he said, looking back down at the book he’d brought along. It was something big and dull and dry. Nothing like a free trip to Paris.

That night, Jim lay in his bed and actually thought about Paris. He had never been there. He had been a lot of places, but Paris was not one of them. Once, a long time ago, he had wanted to go there. Had thought about walking down the Champs-Elysees, visiting the Eiffel Tower, even watching the sidewalk artists or slipping in to see the Mona Lisa. He wasn’t quite as uncultured as Sandburg thought.

A weekend in Paris. He pictured the hotel – big, luxurious, anonymous. He pictured the woman he was hoteling with. Also anonymous. Maybe someone tall, with strapping thighs and long dark hair. Shit. He had just pictured Lila.

Turning over, he tried to think of other women he could possibly meet up with over there. So many he had known were dead, or gone. Carolyn. He could see her face now if he called her up and said, "Hey, Caro, dad just sent me some free tickets to Paris, and I wondered if you had a free weekend over Valentine’s?" She’d say, "Right. Who are you and what have you done with Jim Ellison?"

He thought of Elaine, that officer he had worked with on the poaching case. That hadn't worked out. They had had a rainy camping weekend, only two days, but certainly long enough to realize that they just weren’t going to make it as an item.

Beverly Sanchez. She was nice, smart, attractive, and he liked her. But asking her to go away with him to Paris for the weekend could be opening up a whole can of worms. No doubt he would be expected to continue things when they got back, and he just wasn’t sure that he was ready for that.

Maybe he could meet someone over there, he mused. He wondered exactly how that might happen. It seemed to be easy for him to meet women. Women sticking around, well, that was a whole other story.

Then he got a mental snapshot of he and Sandburg walking through Paris, the younger man weaving and bouncing with excitement as they checked out all that the City of Lights had to offer. Oh god, he thought, groaning as he turned over. Paris with Sandburg. Not exactly what he had in mind. But then he thought, wouldn’t it be funny to see William Ellison’s face when he heard about that?

The next morning, he inquired casually about Sandburg’s Valentine’s plans.

"I don’t know," said Blair thoughtfully. "Just hanging around, I guess."

"No date?" Jim asked, amazed.

Blair shrugged. "I’ve not had time to date anybody, man!" But he didn’t sound very convincing. Jim wondered what was going on there. He leaned back and regarded his younger roommate.

"You wanna go camping that weekend?" he asked.

"Camping? Sure. It will be really cold, though."

"It’ll put hair on your chest," Jim said.

Blair laughed and said, "I think I’ve got plenty of that, thank you." He looked at Jim. Camping in February? Then he thought…Valentine’s weekend. Something was going on here, something Jim did not want to talk about. Thinking Jim was lonely, thinking that Jim’s father’s little ticket thing had something to do with Jim’s sudden need to get away, Blair said, "Sure. Hell, we can take lots of sleeping bags, right?"

"You sure?" asked Jim, and his relief was palatable. Sandburg was entranced at the change in his face.

"Sure," Blair repeated.

"Won’t be interrupting plans, right? Because I don’t want you coming up at the last minute and saying, sorry, Ellison, but I’ve got a date." Jim glowered at Blair, and Blair raised his eyebrows.

"I promise, man," Blair said.

Jim was in a very relaxed mood that whole week, and on the Thursday evening before Valentine’s, he bustled into the loft and said, "Sandburg. I think I’ve changed my mind about the camping trip."

"What?" Blair asked, looking up from his packing. "Man, I cannot believe this! I put all my plans on hold for you, and I already took off tomorrow and everything!"

He would have continued, but Jim could contain his little ruse no longer. A smile bursting across his face, he said, "How does Paris sound instead?"

Blair stared at him, his eyes going wide. "No way, man."

Jim nodded, supremely pleased.

"No way!"

"Yep."

Blair stopped, cocked his head. "You didn’t plan this all along, did you?" and Jim’s grin deepened.

"You…!" Blair was smiling. "Alright, buddy! When do we leave? And man, I’ve got to re-pack now. Can’t hit Paris with the grungy stuff I was planning to take out into the woods. Man!" And it was an excited anthropologist who began chucking stuff out of his bags and onto the floor and bed.

Jim just smiled as he went to do the same.

"I cannot believe we are doing this," Blair said for the fourteenth time as they boarded the plane at Cascade International Airport. "Good thing I had an up-to-date passport, huh?"

"You don’t think I checked about all that?" Jim asked dryly. "I know where you keep it."

"You are such a sneak, man," Blair accused happily. On the plane, he quickly switched into Guide mode, though, making sure Jim didn’t have too much alcohol, that his senses were properly taken care of, etc. Jim just smiled and bore it with a patient air of resignation.

When they landed, Blair became a veritable firecracker of enthusiasm. All the way to the hotel, Jim sat quietly, very amused at his partner’s loquacious, and never-ending, soliloquy on the City de Amour. Good idea to bring him, Jim congratulated himself. Sure, it might not be the low-key romance fest he had imagined, but who else could have appreciated this trip better than his partner?

Jim was not surprised to find the hotel extremely luxurious, and Blair’s eyes widened at the well-appointed, expansive suite.

"Man, oh man!" Blair said, pulling back the curtains to reveal a devastating view of the city below. "This is going to be absolutely amazing at night, man."

There was only one king-sized bed, and Jim said dryly, "Don’t think dear old dad was expecting me and you."

Blair shrugged, excitement undaunted, and said, "We’ve got a whole other room, man. Bet that sofa sleeps quite well, thanks." And then he saw the bathroom. "Holy shit," Blair exclaimed, stepping into the marble haven. "How much do you think your dad shelled out for this place?"

"Trust me, no expense would be spared if he thought he might get some upscale daughter-in-law in the process."

"Man, he is going to be so happy when he finds out you brought me," laughed Blair, admiring the huge sunken tub. "You could get three or four people in here, man." Looking up, he wiggled his eyebrows. "Maybe we should go out to meet and greet the locals."

"Hhm." For some reason, that idea didn’t interest Jim as much as it had that night in his bedroom when he had planned all this. He was having a fine time with Blair.

"Well, where to?" Blair asked, eager to begin this new vacation.

"I don’t know about you, but I’ve got to shower and unpack first," said the ever-organized Ellison.

Blair said, "Shower, right. Seems a shame to shower, though, with this kind of tub around."

"Have you seen the shower, Sandburg?" Jim asked, and Blair looked into another part of the room to see a large marble enclosure with a clear glass front.

"Oh, man! You could get a whole crowd of people in here, too."

"Yeah, well don’t get any ideas," Jim said mock-threateningly. "I get it all to myself first, Sandburg."

"What? You don’t want to shower together?" Blair asked, and the moment following that glib comment could have been awkward.

Thankfully, however, Jim just laughed and said, "Not tonight, Romeo."

Whew, thought Blair. Good thing he knew you were kidding. But despite himself, he got a brief flash of just what Jim would look like in that big, clear, shower, all naked and buff, the water from the gold spigot flowing down over those hard, defined muscles, the taut abdomen, the…

Shit. Blair turned away quickly. "Off to unpack, man!" he said, and wheeled back into the main bedroom.

Later, Jim came out of the bathroom clad in one of the hotel’s plush robes, and he tossed the other one to Blair with a superior grin. "Here, have some class," he said, and Blair laughed.

"You got it, man," Blair said. "This trip is going to be first-class all the way."

Just like their seats on the plane on the way over, Jim thought. Blair had been all over himself over that, even though at some point he had felt the need to go on about elitist power structures like first class airplane seats.

"If you destroy this bathroom," Jim said, sticking his head in while Blair fiddled with the shower, "you’re the one tipping the housekeeping staff."

"Nah, I’d never destroy this bathroom," said Blair primly. "I’d never make poor working-class people clean up after myself."

"Oh, and what am I?" Jim asked, mock-offended, before closing the door and stepping back into the room.

They finished getting ready, and left the hotel on foot with the maps Blair had collected along the way. "Too bad we don’t speak French," he lamented.

"I thought you might," said Jim.

"Well, I know a few phrases," Blair grinned.

"Yeah, and I can just imagine just what those might be."

"Well, hey? How else are we going to pick up a couple of beautiful, sophisticated French women?"

"Chief, I’m here to tell you right now that I don’t plan to spend my hard-earned vacation extricating you from some kind of romantic coup gone bad, okay?"

"You are no fun, man."

"Yeah, well, Paris jails won’t be either. Or the wrong end of the gun of some jealous husband."

"France doesn’t have the kind of hand-gun violence that we suffer from," Blair informed him piously, "and c’mon, Jim. This is the City of Love. People overlook little things like that."

Jim snorted. "My experience, Chief? Human nature is human nature, no matter where you are."

"Can we at least go to the Moulin Rouge? I mean, my god, we’re two single men in Paris."

"I could go to a strip club at home, Sandburg. And believe me, I’ve had enough of those to last a lifetime."

"The Moulin Rouge is different, man, it’s practically a tourist requirement."

"Forget it."

"You are such a cop," Blair whined.

"Guilty as charged."

They strolled along the streets, shamelessly munching on French pastries. Their time schedules were all screwed up. Blair had slept on the plane – Jim hadn’t, and he was getting pretty tired. It was heading toward late evening in Paris, and Jim was thinking of a nap, then a late supper. Or an early supper, and bed.

"Can we go to the Louvre tomorrow?" Blair asked, and Jim nodded, mouth full of buttery croissant. That was something he did want to see.

"I can’t believe we are here!" Blair said again happily, smacking Jim on the arm. I’m going to be black and blue tomorrow, the bigger man thought woefully. He put a firm hand on Blair’s elbow when the student looked like he might veer off to follow a particularly striking French woman who passed them on the street.

"Down boy," Jim said. "I mean it. You’re not helping further American stereotypes here."

"That almost sounds like something I would say," said Blair, impressed.

"Now that’s a wake-up call," Jim said.

"Ha, ha."

"Supper first or bed?" Jim asked, and Blair raised an eyebrow.

"Hope you use better lines than that on dates, man."

"Hey if it works…"

"Are you really heading for bed so early? We’re in Paris, Jim! I don’t know about you, but I can forego a few hours of sleep for a chance to take in the City of Lights at night."

"A while ago it was the City of Love," Jim remarked.

"Hey, that’s the great thing about Paris. It can be anything you want."

"Sandburg in Paris," Jim said, shaking his head, and Blair grinned, very, very happy.

They continued their stroll around the city, and Jim stopped trying to keep up with his intrepid traveling companion. Blair had procured a local newspaper, charmed a bilingual mademoiselle into translating it for them, and now he and Jim were wandering in and out of Parisian clubs and art shows, each one more strange and bizarre than the last.

"Sandburg," Jim finally said. "Haven’t we had enough of the high life? I want to go back to the hotel."

Sandburg smiled patiently at his latest French acquaintance. "We have to go," he said, with an internationally dazzling smile. "Mais oui," he said at her protest, and with sad looks, the two parted and Blair followed Jim back to the hotel.

"I should have just sent you here," groused Jim. "No doubt you would have found someone who would have taken the plane trip back."

"Hey, I was just kidding back there, you know," said Blair, with another playful fist to Jim’s abused bicep. "I want to be here with you, man. Nobody else." And the look he sent up Jim’s way warmed the bigger man’s heart.

"Sure," Jim said gruffly.

"Well, okay, maybe some sexy French brain surgeon would be okay, but hey, I’m stuck with you, so why not make the best of it?"

"Why not, indeed?" asked Jim, and at that moment caught the eye of a very attractive French woman who was glancing over his way. In a moment, his original ideas regarding a trip to Paris flooded back over him. A shadowy hotel room. A sexy woman with eyes that held the secrets to the known world. Hard, hot sex.

He cleared his throat. Instead, he had gotten a quizzical little observer who apparently not only knew all of the French culture’s anthropological quirks, but was planning on sharing them all right at this moment.

Then he had a sudden picture of Blair in that shadowy hotel room. Face looming over his, serious, eyes burning, silky hair hanging down. Blair, naked and hot, suddenly quiet and shy as Jim finally got under a few of those layers of obfuscation the younger man always wore like a suit of protection.

Jim said little on their way back to the hotel.

"I am kinda tired," Blair admitted.

"Chief, this bed is big enough for the two of us," said Jim. "No sense in coming to Paris and having to sleep on a sofa. Especially in a place like this."

Blair flicked an unsure glance his way. "You sure? I wouldn’t be invading your space? Because I don’t want to put you out, man."

"Suit yourself," said Jim, trying to be his most non-committal.

Blair hesitated. The bed was huge. But sleeping in a bed with Jim. Coming to Paris and sleeping in a bed with Jim. "Your dad would freak," he said suddenly, grinning.

"Yeah," said Jim, looking up at Blair with a wouldn’t that be great look.

"Okay," said Blair. "What the hell, right? We’ve slept closer camping."

"Just don’t roll over into my space," Jim warned.

"Heaven forbid, tough guy."

It was a bit strange, Jim thought, settling into a bed like this and having Blair slide in beside him. Really strange. At the last minute, he thought, maybe I should nix this idea. Take my own self out to that couch. But at Blair’s nervous look, he just turned over and went to sleep. So what if they were doing this? He had never been one to care much what others thought.

The bed was really big, and Jim and Blair did not bump into each other.

The next morning, Jim splurged and ordered room service. After all, it wasn’t like he had paid for anything else. He showered and relaxed over his newspaper and coffee, sugary Parisian delights for himself, more healthy fare for Sandburg.

"Room service!" said Blair, delighted. He took a quick shower, then settled himself across from Jim, both in their fluffy hotel robes. "I hate to say this," he admitted, buttering something that had definitely started out on Jim’s plate, "but I could get used to this, you know?"

"How quickly the people fall," observed Jim with a smirk.

"I know, I know, it’s terrible. Naomi would freak out."

"Why do I get the feeling that Naomi has probably seen some four star hotels in her time, Chief?"

Blair pondered this for a moment. "Hey, what’s up for today?" he asked.

"The Louvre?" Jim suggested.

"Oh, yeah. Totally cool."

That little trip took up most of the day, and it was incredibly enjoyable, Jim thought. For his part, Blair was amazed at how much Jim actually knew about art as well as French history.

"What? You think all police officers are dolts? Even Army Rangers can read," Jim said dryly.

"Man, I never said anything like that," Blair retorted, out-done by such a thought. "I just didn’t know it was one of your interests, you know?"

"Believe it or not, even this sentinel has some secrets hidden from the great Blair Sandburg," said Jim.

Blair blinked, studied him for a moment. "You know, of course, that now I will just be doubly dedicated to finding those out."

"Oh brother," sighed Jim.

Blair insisted they pick up some kind of tacky Parisian souvenir for Simon, "you know, a plastic Eiffel Tower or something," and when he admired a very well-done book about the art of the Louvre, Jim bought it.

"No, man, don’t," Blair said. "We can get that at Amazon or some place for much less."

"I thought you supported small booksellers," Jim replied, "and besides, we wouldn’t have bought it in Paris if we did that."

"Oh. Good point," said Blair. When he was looking away at the counter, Jim slipped in another replica of the Eiffel Tower, but this time a very nice rendition. Just a little souvenir to remember the trip by. Then they were off to the tower itself, Blair wavering a bit when they actually got to the part where they would ascend to the top.

"Oh man," Blair said, trying not to glance downwards. "This is really high up here."

Jim put a reassuring hand on his guide’s arm. "Don’t look down," he suggested.

Blair made a face, moved back from the edge. He then launched into a history of the tower itself, and when they got back down to the ground, Blair said, "Now, what’s the evening plans? Wish we could go out and eat some really good French food."

"I think that can be arranged," said Jim, and they headed back to the hotel.

In their room, Blair laid out his best clothes.

"Uh, what makes you think we’re going somewhere that you need a suit, Lothario?" Jim asked in a sardonic tone.

"Don’t tell me we came all the way over here to eat at Burger King," came the reply.

"Oh? And who’s paying for this little culinary excursion, huh, Chief?"

Blair looked right up at Jim and batted his eyelashes unmercifully.

"You are disgusting," said Jim, unable to hide a grin.

"Totally without shame, you handsome hunk of man," Blair returned. "Does that get me a free meal?"

And again, Jim had a sudden vision of that shadowy room, Blair silhouetted against the night lights of Paris. His concentration as he moved across Jim, as Jim moved up inside of him…oh my god.

He looked up at Blair, and their eyes met.

"What? We are going out, right?" asked the student.

"Yes," said Jim, quickly looking back down. Last Tango in Paris, he thought. Last Sandburg in Paris. Last vestiges of our friendship in Paris. That thought quickly brought him around.

While Blair showered, Jim talked quietly with the concierge and procured some last minute reservations at a place that would be sure to delight his easily pleased roommate.

"Sandburg!" he said, knocking on the bathroom door. "Hurry up in there! We’ve got reservations in forty-five minutes!" There was no answer, so Jim pushed the door and it opened.

"Sandburg!" he called again, then stuck his head around the door. The shower was on full blast, and the person inside was singing a passable medley of old French folk songs. The person inside was also completely visible behind the clear sheet of clean glass. Even the faint echoes of steam on the doors were not that concealing for a sentinel. And said sentinel’s heart skipped a beat.

Blair was facing away from him, giving Jim a perfect view of the younger man’s sturdy, hairy thighs and firm, round ass. Jim stopped, frozen, seeing just enough to have that picture stamped indelibly on his mind forever.

Then he walked right forward and knocked softly on the shower door as he opened it.

"Shit!" Blair shouted and jumped, automatically turning around. Jim did not take his eyes off Blair’s face, immediately ready to reach in and catch the younger man in case his surprise took him off balance.

"Jesus Christ, man!" Blair said, his breathing coming down a bit. "You scared the hell out of me. What? And in case you haven’t noticed, I’m naked in here, pal."

Oh, I noticed all right, thought Jim, but he frowned and said, "I’ve been calling your name, Edith. We’ve got reservations in forty-five minutes. Less than that, now."

Blair’s hands had automatically jerked down to cover his groin area, and he raised his eyebrows, making an okay you can leave now expression at Jim.

Who, unable to help himself, reached around and patted Blair on his bare ass.

"It’s nothing I haven’t seen before, Sandburg," he said, and with another look at the startled Blair, turned and walked from the bathroom.

Blair stood there for a moment in the gigantic shower stall, perplexed. That had been unexpected. Jim, patting his bare rear? Whatever.

When Blair finally reappeared in the bigger room, Jim was ready, all decked out in a nice suit with a white suit and blue tie which really highlighted his eyes.

"Wow," said Blair, still a bit nonplussed over the butt-patting incident, but quickly getting back into their regular groove. "Look at you."

"You’re not so bad yourself," said Jim, taking note of Blair’s own jacket and tie get-up.

"Ladies beware," said Blair, and they set off in a taxi for the restaurant.

"Jesus, Jim," Blair whispered after the large menus were opened and set in front of them. "Did you see the prices here?"

"My treat," said Jim, reading over the choices. It was all in French, of course.

Blair raised his eyebrows. "Can you understand anything here?"

Jim smiled, showing very white teeth. Wow, he’s really handsome, Blair thought. He felt kind of scruffy beside him.

"Not a thing," Jim said. "Do you see any soup du jour?"

"How about French fries?"

"French’s mustard?"

"Croissants?"

They almost started snickering, and the taciturn waiter eventually got tired of their ignorance and helped them with their choices.

"What the hell did I just order?" Blair whispered, leaning over.

"Duck l’Orange," said Jim, who wasn’t quite as ignorant as he had been pretending.

"Ah. Well, I trust you, then." There was a pause as Blair looked discreetly around the restaurant. "At least we’re not the only men here without women."

"Maybe we should have called an escort service so you could have been happy," Jim said rather grouchily.

Blair made a face. "I’m just kidding," he said, after studying Jim for a moment. "I really am having a good time, man. No kidding. I can’t tell you what a great trip this is."

And again Jim saw Blair’s face half-lidded, mouth slack as he moved slowly on Jim’s cock in their shadowy bed. Oh yes, the fantasy was growing by leaps and bounds. There were details now, especially after seeing that fantastically round ass in the shower. Not to mention touching it, Jim thought, going back to that little moment of insanity.

"You okay?" Blair was asking.

"Yeah," said Jim, pretending to glance around at the other diners.

"I can’t believe I’m really here," said Blair, but that was no surprise. He had been saying it all day.

"Believe it," Jim replied laconically.

"I really appreciate you bringing me," Blair said, very sincere, and their eyes met.

That’s okay, Jim thought. You can just fuck me when we get back to the room. And then had to look away, he felt so terrible about it. I mean, what am I thinking here? He pondered. Having sex with Blair? Since when did you get the undeniable urge to slip inside another man?

It’s not just another man, came another voice in his head (great, thought Jim, now there are two voices in my head), it’s Blair. Blair, with the expressive hands and incredible enthusiasm and silky brown curls and round, firm ass. Blair, with the heart of gold and the eyes of clearest blue and a mouth that continually looked like it had just been making out somewhere in the back of a car. Blair, who helps you out of a zone with his calm, caring hands and quiet voice. Blair, who shadows you around, helps you even when he’s half-asleep from too much studying and not enough time in his schedule, Blair, who cooks your breakfast just the way you want it. Blair…okay, okay, enough, he told himself. Blair. Blair Sandburg, my other half, my best friend, my….

Jim paused in his thoughts. The waiter had brought wine, and Blair was glancing at him.

"Sure you’re okay?" Blair asked, trying to sound light about it.

"Yeah, yeah," said Jim. But he had to make a conscious effort to stop his hands from shaking when he poured both him and Sandburg a glass of wine. You’re thinking of seducing your best friend here, Ellison. That’s a new low, even for you.

But it wouldn’t be just sex, came the other side.

Well, what the hell would it be then?

Blair was laughing over something, and when he leaned over to share, Jim couldn’t help but notice how good the young man smelled. Fresh, clean, but even more than that, Blair-like. And he absolutely shone in the candlelight – his eyes, his hair, his smile. He was transfixing.

I’m thinking a man is transfixing. Jim quickly downed his goblet of wine.

"Whoa there, big man," Blair said in a low voice. "I can’t carry you home, you know."

Jim looked over at him in the dimness and said, "Why did you come to Paris, Sandburg?"

"What? Well, you asked me, right?" Blair replied, confused for a moment.

"Yeah, but I was just wondering why you came. I mean, what did you want to do when you got here?"

"Oh, I don’t know. Just what we did, I guess," Blair said, thinking about it. "The Louvre, the Champs-Elysees, you know. Why? What did you want to do?"

"I don’t know," said Jim, his voice also low. "I think at first I wanted to come here for Valentine’s."

"For Valentine’s," Blair repeated blankly.

"Yeah," said Jim. Some excellent bread had arrived, and both the men set about to take advantage of the famous French bakery skills.

"What are you saying? If you had wanted to bring a woman here, man, then you could have, you know. I hope…you really wanted me to come along, didn’t you?" Blair was frowning now.

"Of course," said Jim. "I wouldn’t have asked you if I didn’t."

Blair thought about this for a while. "Did you ask anyone else?" he said. "If you don’t mind me asking." What he meant was, was I the second choice?

"Nope," said Jim. "You were my first choice."

Blair looked pleased as he digested this. "Cool," he said. Their food arrived, and eating was quite an adventure as they tried to figure out what everything was. They ate off each other’s plates, trading tastes, and they even sprang for dessert.

"How much was it?" Blair asked, when the bill arrived, but Jim just shook his head and wouldn’t tell him. "Oh man, c’mon," the student wheedled.

Again, Jim said, "No," very firmly. "My treat, Chief. Next time we come here, you can pay."

"Deal," said Blair, grinning.

They walked back to the hotel, feeling very stuffed, and it was a relaxed stroll. They stopped many times along the way, visiting spots Blair deemed interesting; stood and looked at the Eiffel Tower at night.

"I can’t believe I’m here," Blair said once more.

Jim grinned, pleased his little surprise had been such a glowing success. He told himself that he needed to send his dad a thank you note. Blair loved Paris, he imagined himself saying, and he grinned even more broadly at that.

They sauntered on, walking very closely together, arms and elbows constantly touching. A sidewalk artist worked their route, and stopping, Blair said, "We have to have our picture done, man."

"Oh, Sandburg," Jim started to protest, but Blair insisted, and the eager artist sketched them quite thoroughly. Blair laughed out loud when he saw the finished product – the man had completely captured Jim’s square, solemn visage, and Blair’s rowdy hair and excitement lit eyes.

"This is great, this is great," said Blair, dancing around. "We’re going to frame this, man, and put it up."

"Okay," said Jim, happy, and he put his hand on Blair’s back and steered his favorite student through the evening crowds of Paris.

"You know it’s early," said Blair, when they got back to the hotel.

"I tell you what," Jim said. "We’ll hang around the room for a bit, and if you want to go back out, we will."

"Really?" Blair asked, unable to believe Jim’s acquiescing mood.

"Maybe," Jim said.

Both took off their shoes and ties, sighing, and then Jim walked into the bathroom and eyed that big tub. Everything was shadowy. Shadowy, he thought, thinking yet again of how incredibly intense it would be to fuck Blair.

James Ellison, came that voice. You don’t fuck anybody. But he wanted to. He wanted to fuck Blair. Like a man in a dream, he reached down and turned on the tub.

In a moment, Blair called, "Jim? You taking a bath?"

"Yep."

Blair appeared at the edge of the doorway. "Really?"

"Yep," said Jim, beginning to unbutton his shirt. He hoped Blair stayed around. He knew he had an okay body, and he didn’t have a problem showing it off.

"I didn’t know you usually took baths," Blair said.

Jim unbuttoned his cuffs and pulled off his shirt before beginning with his belt. "Hey, why not take advantage of everything tonight," he said. Like you, he thought. Like us. His earlier thoughts about Blair moving on top of him were fast becoming an obsession. He could feel his desire splinter into sparkles in his stomach, felt it grind its way down into his gut, out into his groin. I want you, he thought. Come over here, Sandburg, and let me show you why Paris is called the City of Love. Jim quickly dropped his pants, stepped out of them, pulling his socks off as he went.

"Well," said Blair, blinking. "I’ll just be in here."

"It’s a Jacuzzi," said Jim blandly. "There’s room for two."

And as Blair stood watching, frozen in the doorway, Jim turned around and pulled off his boxers, stepping out of them, too, then he straightened and slowly, deliberately, stepped into the bubbling tub. Made sure Blair got an uninterrupted look at the slim, hard lines of his legs and hips.

"What?" asked Jim innocently, sinking under the water and turning around.

"Uh, later, I think," said Blair.

"Oh, don’t be such a scaredy-ass," Jim groused. "It’s just me."

"Well, I know," Blair said with an uncertain laugh, "but I don’t usually sit around naked with men, Jim."

"You afraid?" Jim asked. In the shadows his eyes were glinting, almost feral. Blair felt his heart begin to beat a bit faster.

"No," he said loudly. Then, "Why should I be afraid?"

"You shouldn’t," said Jim softening his tone. "I hope you’re never afraid of me, Sandburg."

"I’m not," said Blair. Slowly he began to move toward the large tub. "I just…"

Jim said nothing, looked up at him, the bubbles moving against his smooth pecs and carved shoulders. He looked like some kind of statue, thought Blair. A Roman sculpture come to life.

"Take your clothes off," said Jim.

"Why?" asked Blair, suddenly very unsure of a great many things.

Jim just shrugged and said, "Okay, ruin your good jacket, then." He looked back over at him, and Blair’s eyes caught his as well. The younger man began unbuttoning his shirt.

Jim closed his eyes and leaned back, head resting against the cool marble ledge of the tub. When he opened them again, Blair was still unbuttoning. Making a decision, possibly the worst one of his life, Jim stood, rising from the churning bubbles like Neptune himself, the water falling off him in sheets, then trickles. He sloshed to the side of the tub where Blair was standing. Jim was completely naked, and his half-hard manhood rose from a trim belly and clutch of wiry brown hair.

"Jim," squeaked Blair, his fingers tumbling to a stop.

"Let me," said Jim, and he abruptly finished jerking Blair’s buttons and, apparently all determined business, started pulling the shirt off. Blair’s heart was thumping like a frightened animal's.

"I can do it," said Blair, but Jim’s fingers were at his belt buckle now, and Blair’s own coordination had suddenly flown south for the winter. All he could do was watch as Jim reached for the fasteners on his trousers, then his zipper. Blair recovered in time to help push the pants downward and step out of them.

"Jim," he said, caught in this unreal shadowy world. "Can I ask a question here?"

"No," said Jim, and his thumbs hooked on the cotton edge of Blair’s boxers. "You asked me why I came to Paris, Sandburg. Well, I came for this."

Blair’s eyes widened into dark orbs of astonishment. "Came for this? Came for this? I mean, this?" And he looked down at Jim’s hands inside the elastic of his boxers.

Jim looked him straight in the eye. "Yes," he said.

"Shit," said Blair. "Oh, shit."

Jim said nothing, just watched as a boxer-clad Blair pulled away and began pacing around the well-appointed bathroom. Quite suddenly, Blair was mad.

"I can’t believe this," he said. "I cannot fucking believe this. You asked me to come here so you could get some? I mean, you’re joking, right?"

"I wouldn’t say ’get some,’" Jim replied stiffly.

"Oh? Well, what would you say, then?" Blair demanded. "Jesus, Jim, why didn’t you just say so? Why didn’t you just say, hey, Sandburg, I couldn’t find a female date for this weekend, so I thought I’d see if you would do? Huh?"

"It’s not like that," Jim said, folding his arms across that impressive chest. He didn’t turn around, however. He was still most disturbingly naked.

"Then what the hell is it about, man? Because I’m here to tell you, buddy, that I am starting to feel most royally used here."

"I would never use you," said Jim.

"No? Well, then what would you say this is?" Blair said, his expression half upset, half confused. He couldn’t believe this was happening.

"I’ve always wanted to come to Paris," said Jim. His voice was quiet and very flat. If it was the truth Sandburg wanted, then it was the truth that Blair would get. "When I got the tickets, I thought about how nice it would be to have a weekend away. Me and some faceless woman, some tall, worldly woman with long hair and killer legs. So sue me, I was shallow."

"No, I can understand that part," Blair said.

"But I don’t know any women," Jim said honestly. "Lila’s dead. Laura’s gone. Carolyn has moved on."

"Beverly Sanchez," suggested Blair.

"Too many complications when I return," Jim said.

"Oh," said Blair after a moment. "I get it. You wanted this to be an affair type thing. The Last Tango in Paris thing, the shadowy weekend in a shadowy hotel."

Jim shrugged. That wasn’t really it, but he didn’t know how to explain it.

"So you think I’m just a substitution?" Blair asked, faintly aghast.

"No," Jim sighed, "I don’t."

A pause. "Okay," said Blair. "A less than satisfactory substitution, then," he said. "But Jim, man, you could have met someone here if faceless sex was all you wanted." For some reason, he was beginning to feel a bit hurt here. Faceless sex? That was all that Jim wanted from him? All he thought he was good for?

"No," said Jim, but he was answering his questions, not his thoughts. "I didn’t particularly want faceless sex, Sandburg. I would have liked for it to be the hot start of something, not the ending. But I don’t think it could have worked for me and Beverly Sanchez."

Blair tired to piece this bit of information together with the other tidbits he already had floating about in his mind.

"So you’re saying that you really wanted this weekend to be special, but you didn’t have anyone for it to be special with?" he finally asked.

"Something like that," Jim admitted. He was getting cold, but he didn’t sit back down in the tub.

"Get back in the water," said Blair, as if he were reading Jim’s mind. "I can’t exactly concentrate when you’re standing there naked like that.

Jim bit back a smile, but reached over and got a towel and wrapped it around his waist. "That better?" he asked.

"Somewhat," Blair retorted. Then he said, "So, what do I have to do with all of this? I mean, I do have something to do with it, right?"

Here goes, thought Jim. But the room was still shadowy, and he still wanted Blair very much. Wanted him more than ever, in fact, and it wasn’t just for the physical things, either. Never had been, he realized now.

"At first I thought about meeting a woman here," Jim said. "Then I thought about meeting you."

Blair’s knees felt so weak he wondered if he should sit down.

"I thought about what it would be like to be in a room just like this," Jim said, his voice hushed, yet full as honey as it dripped along the quiet room. Outside, the sounds of Paris at night were very far away. "And then I just started seeing you there, instead of that faceless woman. Your face, your hair." He shrugged. "The way you would look when I finally got past those layers you’re always hiding behind. The way your skin would feel. Cool, or warm…smooth, maybe not. I kept seeing these images, you know. What your voice would sound like when I slid inside of you."

Oh my god. Blair felt dizzy, weak. The blood was quickly rushing from his head down to his groin. Man, the images Jim was conjuring! Sliding into his body? Excuse me? Blair felt his butt tighten at the mere thought. And then he felt the excitement slither right down his spine.

"I have to admit, I want to make love to you, Sandburg," Jim said. "Maybe I’m fucking up big time here, but there you are. I want to fuck you. I want to make you come like you’ve never come in your life. I want to take you into that bed in there and suck you so hard that you can’t think of anything else but all the pleasure that you’re feeling. And I want you to fuck me until I can’t even walk straight."

Blair’s mouth was completely agape, his blood was racing, he was practically panting. His body heat was off the scale. And his cock…oh god, what was happening there.

Jim stepped quietly out of the tub and extended a hand. "May I?" he asked softly.

Blair stared at him, shocked beyond speech. Jim wanted to make love to him. Jim, apparently, wanted to blow him harder than Mt. Vesuvius. And suddenly, Blair was feeling very, very horny. And experimental. He had never done things like that with a man before, but he was curious by nature and he sure as hell didn’t have a problem with gayness in general. And certainly no problem with Jim in general. There was just one problem.

"What happens to us?" he whispered, his throat dry.

"Whatever you what," was the reply.

"No," said Blair, "I mean, I don’t know if I can do that and then just go back and pretend that never happened. I just have to be up-front about that here."

"That’s okay," said Jim softly.

"What? What’s okay?"

Jim hesitated. "Whatever you want."

"Whatever I want? What…."

Jim reached out and touched Blair’s face. Ran a big thumb across his cheekbones. It left a trail of heat behind.

"Ah," said Blair.

"I can make you feel so good, Sandburg," Jim whispered, and Blair closed his eyes and said, "Do it, then. Do me, Jim."

Desire ripped through Jim as he leaned over and began propelling the helpless student out into the big bedroom. His eyes never leaving Jim's, Blair fell over onto the covers, waited, his cock swelling between his legs with an ache he hadn’t felt in a very long time.

"Those need to go," Jim growled, and he pulled at the waist of Blair’s boxers while Blair lay back and wriggled out of them. When he was completely naked underneath Jim’s hot, roaming eyes, he lay there panting, ribcage moving in and out.

"You are so sexy," Jim said, and that was the one sentence Blair would have bet he would never have heard come from his roommate’s mouth.

"Oh yeah," said Blair, closing his eyes and arching his back as Jim pushed Blair’s legs apart and leaned over to drag his tongue across the younger man’s bare belly.

"You taste so fucking good," said Jim as if he were talking to himself, and he slid his palm up between Blair’s thighs, stroking the taut skin there.

"Jesus," Blair said, wiggling and opening his legs even wider. And then Jim leaned right down and started licking Blair’s drooling cock.

"Shit! Oh, god!" Blair was moaning, jerking, as Jim just kept on going, relentless, stroking Blair, sucking him, taking him hard and without mercy.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," said Blair, and he was completely without dignity as he moaned and thrust, his hands coming down and sliding over Jim’s short hair as he twisted and turned underneath that mouth.

Jim still didn’t stop, kept on like a sentinel version of the terminator, licking and twisting with mouth and strong fingers until Blair was beyond words, yelping like an animal, digging his flailing heels into the hapless sheets and saying, "My god, my god. Jim! I’m cominnnggggg!" And Jim clamped down harder, milking with his mouth until Blair’s hot liquid squirted right up into the roof of his mouth and down into his throat. It was unexpected, it was bitter, and Jim nearly gagged, but that was only from reflex, and certainly not from lack of desire. He wanted to suck Blair until the end of time. Until that man had no juice left at all. And then he still didn’t want to stop.

"Oh yeah, baby," Jim was saying, carefully licking Blair’s sensitized organ, cleaning him up with his tongue, lapping like the panther he had suddenly seemed to turn into. Blair was beyond words, beyond simple brain function, lying back collapsed into the tormented sheets.

"Jesus God," he managed.

But Jim wasn’t done. He had the whole night ahead of him, and he was planning to take full advantage of every moment of it.

"Take it easy, baby," he said, sliding up and pushing Blair’s sweaty curls off his forehead. "Because I’ve just started to please you tonight."

"Oh god," said Blair, feeling like he had suddenly pushed open the very best door in the funhouse. A forbidden house of sexual mirrors. Then he realized that Jim probably hadn’t come.

"What do you want me to do?" Blair whispered, extending an arm down toward Jim’s flat belly. Yep, there was Jim’s cock, all swollen and impressive and looking open for business.

"What do you want to do?" Jim asked, eyes darkening. He remembered the thought of Blair sitting on his lap, filled with Jim’s hard cock.

"You tell me," said Blair. He had like no experience in this section of the sexual arena. He felt as young and naïve as a boy on his first date.

"You wanna touch me?" Jim whispered.

Blair swallowed and nodded. "Okay," he said, and he shifted so that he was at Jim’s side, looking down at Jim’s naked body, beautiful in the gray light. Tentatively, he reached out and touched Jim’s flat stomach; was gratified to feel it twitch underneath him. Jim wants this, Blair thought. He’s waiting for me to pleasure him, and there was a hint of power in that thought that shored Blair’s self-confidence up quite a bit.

"How’s this?" Blair asked in a hushed tone, as he slid the flat of his hand down toward Jim’s cock. Felt the wiry hair at the base. Flicked a finger up the swollen side, fascinated to see how Jim reacted to his touch. Couldn’t believe Jim was just lying there spread out underneath his ministrations, waiting. Blair traced an exploratory finger around the head, the slit. He was almost dizzy with excitement. "Am I the first man to touch you here?" he whispered.

Jim said, "Yes," in a hoarse voice which made Blair’s own groin jerk again.

Then Blair wrapped his strong fingers around Jim’s hard cock and began to stroke.

"Ah," Jim moaned, leaning back and closing his eyes.

"Yeah," said Blair, transfixed at the sight, rubbing faster and faster. Jim was starting to jerk now, obviously close to that beautiful edge of climax and Blair renewed his efforts with enthusiasm, finding a rhythm that seemed to be a good one.

"Oh yeah," Jim bleated, and Blair worked harder until he could feel Jim swell underneath his fingers and the big man bucked and shouted as Blair triumphantly milked all of Jim’s creamy essence right out of his cock.

"Oh yeah," Blair repeated, staring at the sticky liquid all over his fingers. He watched Jim for a moment, entranced, before he moved over and got some tissue off the bedside table. Carefully and gently, he cleaned Jim up. "How was that?" Blair asked, sliding up next to his new lover.

"Mmm," said Jim, wrapping an arm around him, and Blair laid his head on Jim’s bare chest, feeling the strong heartbeat thump right into his ear.

"Good?"

"Yeah," Jim breathed. He patted Blair’s back between his shoulder blades. Then Jim said, "Can you go again?"

"Maybe," said Blair.

Jim pushed him back a little, looked up at him. "Will you come inside of me?" he asked, and Blair felt his heart blip in excitement, surprise, and something else.

"Okay," he said shyly.

"I’ve got condoms," Jim said, rolling off the bed and Blair just sat there and watched Jim, naked, unzip a side pocket of his bag and pull out the necessary accouterments. No lube though, thought Jim with a frown. I didn’t exactly think I’d be needing it. Then he remembered the lotion in the bathroom. "Be right back," he said, and soon he was, handing Blair the little travel sized bottle of expensive Parisian hand care.

Blair stared at it for a moment, then said, "Oh."

"This okay?" Jim asked, just to be sure.

"What the hell, right?" Blair said, giving a shaky half-laugh, and Jim rolled over on his stomach, then got up on his hands and knees. Oh shit, thought Blair. Oh shit. "Jim," he said uneasily, "I have, like, never done anything like this before."

"Neither have I," said Jim.

"You sure you want to?"

"Oh yeah," said Jim. Then he looked around at Blair, eyes worried. "Are you okay with it?"

"God, I don’t know here," said Blair, looking totally bewildered, and Jim hesitated a moment before sitting up and back on his heels.

"Look, Sandburg, I don’t want to do anything you don’t want to," said Jim.

"No, I will," said Blair.

I don’t want to be a mercy fuck, Jim almost said, but he didn’t. Because the bad part was, he didn’t really care. Instead, he reached down between Blair’s legs and started stroking the younger man’s half-hard cock. "We’ll do whatever you want to do," he said, and Blair gasped, eyes wide. "Don’t you think it would be hot to be inside of me?" he whispered, and Blair swallowed, completely blown away by this unexpected side of Jim.

Literally, he thought dryly. "Lean down," said Blair, and Jim did, the heat lighting his eyes as he moved back over to all fours. Back in the game now, Blair started rubbing Jim’s smooth back, then moved his hands across the tight globes of Jim’s firm ass. What a body. He hoped Jim liked his just as much. Without thinking, he leaned over and planted a kiss on Jim’s behind. God, I cannot believe I am doing this, he thought, but it was too late, he was plodding along, he was in the zone. He kissed Jim’s skin again, started moving his hands around Jim’s belly, the inside of his thighs. Despite himself, he felt his own excitement growing, felt himself get harder, starting to relish the feel of the smooth taut skin of Jim’s posterior regions. "Oh yeah," Blair said, reaching around to cradle the weighted hanging sac of Jim’s balls. "You like that, baby?" he breathed, and Jim nodded his head, his breathing heavy and labored. He moved his knees even farther apart, spreading himself open to Blair, and Blair stopped for a moment to unscrew the bottle cap of the lotion.

"Oh yeah," Blair repeated, pouring the lotion out into his shaking hands. He rubbed it briskly in his palms to try and warm it up, a lesson he had learned from Naomi’s various massage therapists. Then he took his lubed finger and began stroking down the crack of Jim’s ass.

Jim jerked, and Blair said, "Okay?"

"Oh yeah," said Jim, and Blair pondered how quickly two grown men’s conversation could disintegrate to "oh yeahs" when they were getting ready to fuck each other into kingdom come.

"I don’t want to hurt you," Blair said, worried now.

Jim just spread himself open a little more and said, "Go ahead. It’ll be great."

Gently, Blair ran the finger down to that tiny hole below Jim’s ass. His asshole, Blair thought inanely. I’m getting ready to stick my finger into my roommate and best friend’s asshole. His whole body throbbed – his temples, his dick, even his fingers themselves as gently, he pushed against the very tight opening. "Okay?" he asked.

Jim nodded, but Blair could hear the intake of his breathing. That wasn’t good. Because the rest of him was a hell of a whole lot bigger than that tiny little finger. "You tell me if it hurts," he instructed firmly, and Jim nodded as Blair moved the finger up inside a bit more.

"More," breathed Jim, so Blair did so, trying to gently stretch him.

"More fingers," said Jim, and swallowing, Blair tried that. God, that was tight. How in the world was he ever going to be able to put himself into Jim? But he persisted, and Jim groaned, "more, more." It really does stretch, Blair told himself, and then he moved a finger farther in and hit a tiny little something that sent Jim into absolute paroxysms of moaning. His ass clamped down on Blair’s finger and Blair stopped, wondering if he should pull out. But Jim was bucking and saying, "yes, yes," so taking that as a good sign, Blair stayed right where he was.

"You," Jim was saying. "Put yourself inside of me," and now Blair felt excitement absolutely grip him, Iron Maiden style.

"Uh-huh," he said, all hot and bothered, and gently removing his fingers, he opened up the condom wrapper with shaking fingers. Even though it was lubricated, he lathered it up with lotion for good measure and pressed himself against Jim’s opening. "I don’t know, Jim," he was saying, when the resistance was still great, but Jim rammed himself backward and Blair slid in with an excruciating pop.

"Augh!" Jim cried, and Blair froze, frightened.

"Are you okay?" he asked worriedly, afraid to move. Which was a bit hard, since the head of his cock was now buried in Jim’s incredibly wonderful tunnel.

"Yeah, wait a minute, let me adjust," Jim gasped, hanging his head, fingers white against the bedspread, and Blair started getting worried.

"Jim-"

"No, more," gritted Jim, and again he surged backward onto Blair’s waiting cock.

"Oh god," Blair said, unable to help himself at the sensation. "Oh god." He was trembling, and so was Jim underneath him. "Jim? You okay?"

"Fuck me," Jim managed. "Fuck me, Blair," and he started moving backward again, bathing Blair’s cock in an absolute wash of pleasure.

"Oh," Blair was moaning, but he kept enough presence of mind to start a satisfying rhythm, or perhaps that just happened on its own, because the next thing he knew Jim was ramming back against him and he was responding in kind. They were going at it fast and furious now, his body shaking as Jim’s ass contacted with his groin over and over and over again.

"Oh yeah," said Jim, "oh yeah, oh yeah," and Blair was panting and almost out of control now as he felt his cock simply explode in Jim’s tight passage.

"Oh my god!" Blair cried out, quickly having left the veneer of civilized man behind, "oh god, oh god, oh god. Oh shit, mercy, yeah!" and he collapsed on the glistening broad back of his partner.

"Stroke me," said Jim, almost there himself, and Blair rallied himself again, reaching around and jerking at Jim until a moment later, Jim was puffing like a steam engine and spurting off in Blair’s hands.

"Man," said Blair, gently pulling himself out of Jim’s body. Out of instinct, he looked down at the condom, but all looked well. You can’t get him pregnant, dope, he thought to himself. And then he thought, what about blood? Did I hurt him? Quickly he looked down at Jim, remembering that initial push as the head of Blair’s cock had cleared the first hurdle. But no, all looked well. "You okay?" Blair asked immediately, looking around where Jim had slowly collapsed onto the bed.

"Sore, but great," came the reply.

"I’m sorry," Blair said, hand on Jim’s back as he lay down beside him.

"It’s okay," said Jim, reaching a hand out for Blair. "It was great."

"Really?" Blair felt pleased. "Your first time, right?"

"Oh yeah." Jim’s hand came up and touched Sandburg’s face, gently pushing the sweaty strands of his hair out of the way. "Glad it was with you, Chief."

And for some reason, that touched Blair even more than all the sex had.

"Yeah, me, too," he said, moving up against Jim. They hadn’t really cuddled or anything. Blair wasn’t sure where the boundaries were.

"Come here," said Jim, clearing that little mystery right up, and Blair did so happily, moving into the arm that Jim used to pull him closer. Blair could still feel his own heart scudding in his chest.

"I could get used to this," said Jim, and Blair thought about that for a moment. He felt like he was on the threshold of a whole new world. One he had never really thought about, and one he had certainly never seriously considered.

"It wouldn’t be that bad, would it?" Blair breathed. No women, Blair thought. No more smooth skin, full breasts, wet openings. Well, Jim had some of that. Sure, he had loved touching women, but Jim…touching Jim had been a whole different ballgame. He had never had sex like that. Never made love like that. "That was great," he added.

Jim seemed to recover, rolled over and put his arms lightly around Blair. He put his hand on Blair’s face, caressed the wide bones and full features. When he moved his thumb over Blair’s lower lip, Blair was very still. They had never been this close, even though they had just had sex. They had certainly never kissed. And then…kissing Jim. The thought was so hot and so intimate that Blair felt his heart squeeze together in sweet anticipation. Jim’s lips against his, his tongue in his mouth, oh god….

"You know, Blair," Jim was saying softly, stroking Blair’s cheek and hair, "if you ever want someone to…be inside of you in that way, I hope you would consider me."

"Who else would I consider, man?" Blair said, giving a nervous half-laugh. Is he going to kiss me? Then, I’ve just been inside of Jim, Blair thought, some of his shock subsiding a bit. I was inside of him. Inside. I love him, Blair thought. Oh god. Oh absolute fucking hell. Jim had said nothing about love. And Jim giving up the women he dated for a skinny little hairy anthropologist? Not bloody likely.

"I’m glad you came along," Jim was saying. "This…this was right. I…that woman thing…that was just…this is right," he said, and he clasped the side of Blair’s face in his hands and moved even closer. "I hope you think so, too," he admitted softly.

"I do," choked out Blair, and then Jim had closed his eyes and was kissing him, softly, firmly, on the mouth. "Oh," Blair moaned, closing his eyes, too, and melting into Jim’s embrace. God, that man could kiss. And it was so right, so great… Blair felt his heart absolutely swelter with overpowering emotion as Jim opened the kiss, pressed between Blair’s full, parted lips with his tongue, tasting his love for the first real time.

"Love you, Chief," Jim whispered. He couldn’t help it. Hell, if he went out, he would go out with a bang.

"Man, I love you, too," Blair replied fervently, wrapping his arms around Jim’s neck and kissing him hard, feverishly.

"Uhm," Jim groaned, and he was already hot again, his body absolutely burning at the insistent, possessive liplock the younger man had upon him. The kiss was growing wilder now, heart-stopping, breath-taking.

Blair rolled on top of Jim, naked, straddled him as he continued to kiss him with fiery, lasciviously open-mouthed lips. He sucked Jim’s lower lip, his tongue, flicked his own tongue in a tantalizing pattern all over Jim’s teeth and palate. He couldn’t open his mouth wide enough, couldn’t crawl inside Jim’s wet heat far enough.

"Man, I am never going to stop kissing you," Blair announced breathlessly against Jim’s mouth.

"That’s fine with me."

They kissed for an incredibly long time, probably the most Blair had ever kissed any one person at any one time, and then Blair collapsed, absolutely worn out, flopping down on Jim’s bare and sweat sticky chest.

"Still want to go out?" Jim asked with a grin, bringing a possessive hand up to gently pat Blair’s bare buttocks.

"Hell, no," mumbled Blair against his chest.

"Me, neither, Chief," said Jim. "Me, neither." He began to stroke Blair’s bare backside.

"Uhm," said Blair.

"Feel good?" Jim murmured.

"Oh yeah," said Blair.

"Good," said Jim, rolling the boneless student off of him and turning to look down at him. "Because I’m going to absolutely wear you out."

"You already have!" Blair protested weakly.

"You ain’t seen nothing yet," said Jim, moving his hands and lips down Blair’s relaxed body.

"Oh," said Blair, jerking when Jim’s lips latched onto a tight brown nipple and began to suck greedily. "Oh!"

"See?" said Jim. "I said I was going to eat you alive."

"I don’t think you said that," said Blair, "but don’t let me interrupt. Even though, Jim, I’m not sure I can…."

"Hey, you just lie back and relax here, buddy," Jim said, pulling the pillow over to cushion Blair’s head. "Let daddy Jim take care of you."

"Daddy Jim!" Blair started giggling. "Oh, god. Oh, fuck," he added, as "daddy" Jim started licking his navel. "I’m telling you that I absolutely cannot.…" Jim was licking his cock now, teasing him unmercifully with an insistent rough tongue.

"That’s okay," said Jim between licks. "You just enjoy." He spent a lot of time there, sniffing and licking and categorizing every new sight and smell and taste. Then he spread the uncomplaining student’s legs apart and began sniffing a bit deeper in.

"Uhm," said Blair. Then he felt the wet heat of Jim’s tongue in a very intimate spot. "Whoa," he said. "What you doing down there, man?"

"Tasting you," came the muffled reply. Blair’s legs were spread father apart, and Blair just gave up and opened them as widely as he could. Between them, Jim was nearly zoning on the sight and smell of this part of his new lover.

"Oh!" Blair said, jerking. Yowsa, that felt good. "Jim?" he asked, his muscles contracting immediately.

"Relax, baby," Jim said, blowing on the tight hole. "You like this?" And he licked again, gently pushing his tongue on inside.

"Jim, whoa," said Blair, bucking. He was awake again. "Oh mercy."

"Oh yeah," said Jim happily, tonguing again, and again. He knew his goal, didn’t know if he could find it.

"God," said Blair. He was twisting and turning now, helplessly impaled on Jim’s wriggling tongue while Jim held his legs and buttocks firmly open.

Jim pushed farther in. He wanted inside. He wanted inside bad.

"Fuck!" Blair jumped as if jolted by a lightning bolt. "Merciful…fuck!" He had gone way beyond the bounds of coherent language. His cock was already hardening again.

Jim tried to say something, but only succeeded in vibrating his tongue inside Blair’s body. This did little to help Blair’s current incoherent state.

"Oh yeah, oh yeah," Blair said, giving a shaky giggle. "I don’t know what the hell you’re doing down there, man, but don’t let me stop you," and Jim plunged further in. He was in as far as he could go now, his nose buried in the fold of Blair’s bottom, his tongue pushing and straining to hit just the right area.

Jim has his tongue up my ass, Blair thought incoherently. And it feels fucking incredible.

After a while, Jim had to pull out to breathe. He panted up at Blair, eyes glazed with pure lust. "I want inside you, baby," he growled, and Blair said, "Okay, do it."

Scrambling up, Jim pushed Blair’s spread legs up and over his shoulders. I’ve got no dignity left, thought Blair helplessly. I really should be more worried about that.

Stroking himself to readiness, Jim grabbed another condom and that little bottle of lotion. "Hang on," he told Blair. He didn’t come as often as he used to, but he sure as hell wasn’t having any trouble today. Quickly he was hard enough to press against Blair’s wet hole. "Relax," he said again, stretching Blair with a finger that slid in fairly easily. Another push, and Blair gasped. More gentle pushing, and Blair began to look worried.

"We’ll stop," said Jim immediately, and Blair said, "Hell no! Just be careful, that’s all."

Jim leaned down and placed a reverent kiss on Blair’s furry belly. "I don’t ever want to hurt you, Chief," he said.

"I know," said Blair reaching down and blindly patting the side of Jim’s face. Jim kissed the patting palm, then went back to the task at hand. He took his time, listening to Blair’s heartbeat, knowing the younger man was desperately trying to relax. When Blair pushed against him again, Jim could tell the barrier was easier.

"Go ahead," Blair panted, moving firmly against him. The head of Jim’s penis was rather sensitive after their last activity and they both gasped as Jim pushed his way past the initial barrier.

"Augh!" said Blair, bucking, and then because the bucking made it worse, immediately stopped moving.

Jim stroked every part of him he could reach, worried.

"Jesus," said Blair, squenching his eyes shut. "Oh well, there’s always a first time, right?" he gritted out, trying to concentrate on something other than the burning pain in his rectum. "I’m not bleeding, am I?" he asked.

"Shit," said Jim, trying to pull out, but Blair stopped him with insistent fingers in his hair.

"No, don’t stop," Blair wheezed out. "It’ll be okay. It’s stopping." It wasn’t, not quite, but Blair said, "move," and when Jim didn’t, he did, pushing more of Jim’s hard cock up inside his tight passage. "Oh," Blair said. "Yeah," and pushed some more.

Jim was groaning now, too, and in a moment, the burning subsided enough for Blair to feel something else. Something powerful and exciting. Jim! Jim was inside of him! As a sudden surge of pure excitement raced throughout him, he bucked again and Jim quickly went for the magic button.

"Shit!" said Blair, arching his back. Magic button found. "Yeah! Oh man, Jim, fuck me, oh yeah!" and those words were enough to galvanize the shaking Ellison back into action, moving gently at first, and then, when he saw Blair meant what he said, a bit more boldly.

"Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me," Blair chanted, jamming himself down on Jim’s cock and Jim groaned and moved back, beginning the ride, breathless from the sight of Blair’s face alone.

"Yeah, yeah," came their words and the hard rhythm, until Blair was chanting a sing-song ahhhhhh! And Jim, heart pounding and emotion scalding his eyes, plowed one last time into Blair and came with a blazing release.

"Yeah!" Blair shrieked, and came at the same time, his ass muscles clamping down on Jim with an incredible pressure of heat and lust.

"Baby," said Jim, bucking in a land of burning pleasure, almost forgetting not to flop down on the prone man underneath him. Instead, he gently folded, holding his weight so that Blair wouldn’t be squashed.

"Fuck," said Blair.

"I think we just did." Gently, Jim moved on trembling knees, sliding out as carefully as possible from Blair’s tight anus. When he did, he checked quickly for possible damage. Blair was reddened in that area, but there were no tears or blood. Thank god! Nearly dizzy from release and relief, Jim got rid of the condom, then moved back up to take his lover in his arms.

"Jim," Blair mumbled, exhausted, flopping a limp arm across his body.

"Ssh," said Jim to his love, "Ssh. Sleep, baby. I’m right here." And he gently pushed Blair’s hair back from his face. Kissing him sweetly on the forehead, he settled down for sleep with Blair.

Before dawn, Jim got up and looked out over the city of Paris, already awake; or perhaps it had never gone to sleep. Outside, everything was the same; the smell of freshly baked croissants, the sound of different heartbeats, different language; no doubt even the Arc de Triomphe still stood over endless Parisian traffic.

Inside, however, all had changed.

Walking over to a small shopping bag cast heedlessly on the floor, Jim rummaged around and found the little metal statue he had purchased of the Eiffel Tower. Sure, it was touristy, but hell, he was a tourist.

Blair awakened sleepily, looked over in the gray morning light to see Jim sitting naked beside the bed, holding a small version of the Eiffel Tower.

"What the hell are you planning to do with that?" Blair asked half-seriously, and Jim laughed.

"What do you want me to do with it?" Jim countered teasingly.

Blair said, "Thank god I know you for the white bread man you are. No, seriously, that’s not Simon’s, is it?"

"No." Jim moved over to the bed and kissed Blair gently on the lips. It was a move of tenderness and trust, and it surprised Blair. Apparently this was his weekend for surprises. "I bought this yesterday. Sort of a reminder of our trip together. I didn’t realize then what a powerful reminder it would be."

There was a small silence before Blair said, "Will this change anything when we get back to Cascade?"

Jim’s heart blipped. "I’d like it to," he said carefully.

"Me, too," said Blair, relieved, looking up at Jim’s soft face. He reached out and squeezed one of Jim’s hands.

Putting down the statue, Jim turned and took Blair in his arms. "Come here," he said, and when they had settled back down underneath the covers, Jim said, "Kiss me," and Blair did, his lips swollen against Jim’s own. "Kiss me again, baby," Jim said mock-lecherously, and Blair did so, moving against him, mouth wide as Jim plundered him with his wet searching tongue. "I’m never going to get tired of that," Jim said.

Blair said, "I probably should have made you brush your teeth first, since I know where that tongue’s been."

Jim laughed. "Hey, we’re clean people," he said.

"Still." Blair drew back, but at Jim’s amused face, gave in and started kissing again. "I guess if you can stand it, I can."

"Blair," said Jim, suddenly serious, "you know I never want to you to do anything you’re not comfortable with."

"Don’t worry," said Blair making a face, "I won’t."

"Good," and pinning Blair to the bed, Jim moved on top of him and ran a delirious hand down the student’s naked body. "Oh yeah," he said, when he got to Blair’s swelling cock.

"You’re going to wear me out," Blair accused.

"That’s my goal," said Jim happily, grabbing Blair’s ass and squeezing firmly. Blair closed his eyes and stretched wantonly, happily flexing every part of himself under Jim’s frankly appreciative gaze.

"You trying to give me a stroke here, Sandburg?"

"I’m trying to get one," Blair said suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Oh, I see. Like this, maybe?" asked Jim as he casually fisted his hand around Blair’s cock and stroked upward slowly.

"Yeah!" said Blair, twisting. He was feeling remarkably uninhibited around Jim. So comfortable. It was just right, all of it. Like he had finally come home. Feeling a spasm of overwhelming sentiment, he grabbed Jim’s shoulders and declared, "You better never leave me, Ellison."

"The way you follow me around? I’d never be able to lose you." But Jim’s soft blue eyes said what his words did not.

"That’s right, Joe Friday, and you better not forget it, either," Blair said smartly. "Now," he said, nodding his head down toward his straining erection. "Weren’t you doing something?"

"Oh yeah," said Jim, looking perplexed. "What was I doing again?"

"Asshole," Blair laughed, taking Jim’s hand himself and placing it right around his pulsing cock.

"Asshole?" Jim leaned down and nuzzled into Blair’s ear. "Did you say asshole?" and he moved his other hand down around Blair’s behind.

"No," said Blair, laughing and trying to get free. "I’m too sore there, man. Geez! I’ll be walking funny all day as it is. Aren’t you sore?"

"Not sore enough," declared Jim. "We may have to work on that."

"I’ll work on anything you want to," Blair smiled.

"Oh yeah? Then work on this, Sandburg," said Jim, and he leaned over and took a big lick of Blair’s weeping cock.

"Oh baby, you got it man, right there. Oh yeah!"

Blair loves those words, Jim thought dryly, before he got to the business at hand. Which was sucking Sandburg’s tonsils out through his cock, of course. In the shadowy grayness of the room, Jim almost felt like he was having an out-of-body experience; that just for a moment he was watching himself pleasure Sandburg, watching Blair’s eyelashes resting on his cheeks, watching the younger man thrust once, twice, three times. And then Jim was back inside himself, feeling the head of Blair’s slick cock swell inside his mouth as Blair started clutching everything available and shouting, "Jiimmm!"

Blair’s verbal exuberance was much appealing, Jim decided.

After Blair made it back to the land of the living, his first words were, "When my ass gets back to normal, I’m going to fuck you every morning, big guy. I mean, you’ll be fucking me, too, that’s why my ass would need to be back to normal, of course."

Jim just shook his head and caressed Blair’s face. "You’re one of a kind, Sandburg," he said.

"Yeah, and don’t you forget it." Blair looked worried for a moment. "When we get back, you’re sure you won’t be searching out the company of the fairer sex?"

"Chief, they don’t get much fairer than you," Jim said, kissing him on the temple.

Blair looked up at him, very pleased. "Are you going to consider me unmanly if I say something sentimental here?" he asked.

Jim cast a dry look down at Blair’s impressive manhood. "No problem in mistaking you for anything other than a man," he replied.

"Good, because I know you’re not much on sentiment, man, but I gotta say…" and Blair’s face sobered, looked very young and unsure, "you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Jim."

"I should have brought you to Paris sooner," Jim said, pulling Blair to him for good old-fashioned cuddle. And then the cop turned sentimental, making very un-Ellison-like cooing sounds and cradling his new lover’s head in his big hands. Much like the Golden episode, he thought, only this was much, much better. Mainly because Blair wasn’t hurt. The other good part was, of course, that Blair was completely prepared to cuddle back.

They stayed that way for some time, Blair blatantly hanging on, when he remembered something. "Jim," he said. "You haven’t come, man."

"Sometimes this is enough, Sandburg," Jim replied quite truthfully.

"Bullshit," said the anthropologist, and flipped so that he lay half beside Jim on the bed. Running his hand down Jim’s magnificent chest and stomach, he began rubbing comfortable circles further and further down. "I want to taste you," he said, suddenly shy.

Jim cleared his throat and said, "Okay."

Giving him a reassuring look, Blair leaned down, and taking Jim’s hardening cock in his hand, he guided it into his wet, eager mouth.

Jim had to watch for a moment, but that spoke of very premature ejaculation; the sight of Sandburg sucking on his cock was just too much visual stimulation, thank you. So he closed his eyes, stupidly giddy from the knowledge that Blair had never had his mouth like that on a man before.

Jim was right; Blair hadn’t, so he kept one eye constantly on Jim’s face, monitoring his progress. What to do? He was really getting into it, which made him wonder…had he ever wanted to do that before? Could it be that he had had impulses that he had never realized? That was a bit disconcerting. But the first of Jim’s groans blew those thoughts away as a blaze of power shot through him. He was making Jim moan. He was doing this. Encouraged, he began stroking all the places he liked be stroked. It had to be almost the same for Jim, right? Apparently he was doing okay, because Jim was groaning, and then, to Blair’s interested surprise, began telling him what he liked.

Hastily complying, Blair soon had Jim moaning his head off, and then he felt the head of Jim’s cock begin to swell within his mouth. He knew what that meant! Well? To swallow or not? Quick, quick, you better decide, Sandburg, he told himself as Jim began to jerk underneath him and say, "Blair! I’m coming! Oh god, I’m going to come, Blair!" And it was the "Blair" that did it…he loved to hear Jim say his name, and just for that, he locked lips and held on, easily withstanding the bitter onslaught that followed. (Maybe I can work this into some kind of training program, he thought, amused. That’s right Jim, you call me Blair instead of Sandburg, and I’ll suck your guts out). But just as he was congratulating himself on his anti-gag performance he felt his throat seize up and hastily pulled away, turning his head so that Jim couldn’t see the horrible effort he was making not to throw up.

"Okay?" Jim asked (of course he had noticed). "Here, Sandburg, spit it out into this Kleenex," and that was not the way Blair wanted his first attempt at orally pleasing Jim to go. But he accepted the tissue hastily and turned and spit it all up, wrapping up the mess and flopping his head down on Jim’s stomach.

"I’m so, so sorry," he started to moan, but Jim was just chuckling. Or was when he finally finished recovering from Blair’s rather spectacular effort, swallower or not.

"God. It’s just that I haven’t gotten anything on my stomach-" Blair was trying desperately to explain, but Jim just pulled him to him and patted, amused.

"I’ve heard it’s an acquired taste," he said dryly.

"I’ve tasted it before," said Blair, "my own of course," he said hastily at Jim’s raised eyebrows. "But it just…"

"Takes you by surprise? I know," he said, and Blair made a wry face.

"You handled mine okay," he said half-miserably.

Jim said, "I was in rut, what can I say?"

Blair laughed. "Well, I’m still in rut," he said. "So what’s my excuse? Don’t worry," he added, "practice makes perfect, and I am nothing if not a dedicated student."

Jim kissed him for his sheer will of effort.

"It was perfect, Chief," he said.

Blair smiled and snuggled up to him. "I hope so," he said.

"It was," said Jim. "Almost too much for this old man," and Blair just shook his head at this blatant attempt to cheer him up. Still, Jim did seem genuinely satisfied.

"Breakfast time," said Jim, with another light smack to Blair's butt.

He’s obsessed with that, Blair thought, very pleased. Kissing Jim again, he moved off the bed and made a point to show off his bare bottom every single way possible as he stretched and looked for his clothes. Jim was watching his every move, and it made Blair positively incorrigible. Throwing back a teasing glance at his Sentinel, he bent over slowly to pick up the clothes he had tossed away the night before.

"You keep that up and you’re coming back to bed, sore bottom or not," growled Jim.

Blair just laughed delightedly and ran back over and jumped up and down on the mattress. "And just think," he said, leaning down to tease Jim’s mouth with a tantalizing tongue, "it’s all yours, big man."

"It better be," Jim said, grabbing him and rolling him underneath him.

"Whoa, cave-man!" Blair giggled. "You’re not going to drag me back to Cascade by the hair, are you?"

"And what would you do if I did?"

"You might be surprised," said the not to be outdone Sandburg. "I know a few moves of my own, macho man." And with that announcement, he flipped Jim over on his back and sat atop him, triumphant.

"I have to say that not many of my dates have ever done that," Jim said dryly. "Well, a few of them have."

Blair smiled, relaxed on top of him. "Those days are over," he said sternly. "The only Jim flipping going on from now on is going to be by me. Got that?" And he poked a warning finger in Jim’s chest.

"Aye, Aye, Chief," said Jim, eyes soft. "Aye, aye."

They lay there together, side by side, hands entwined for some time, talking softly of nothing. When Blair mentioned room service, Jim could not deny him (and that’s going to be the start of a long trend, Jim feared), so in a moment a happy Sandburg was picking out just the perfect breakfast for him and his new lover.

Blair started to head for the shower while they waited, but Jim vetoed that (I’m washing you today, he declared, and Blair widened his eyes and said okay, then!) and when the food arrived, Jim brought it over to the bed and they ate there, hedonistic to the core. It was quite a sight, seeing a naked Jim Ellison (he had shucked the robe he had had on when the waiter came) feeding him croissants, Blair thought, and soon the act of breakfasting became a very lascivious one, Blair ending up covered with butter and jam and Jim laughing his head off at the sight of it.

"I’ve never been used as a butter dish before," said Blair. "Oh, gross! This is sticky, man."

"Let me get that," said Jim. Leaning over, he licked a long swipe of his tongue over Blair’s chest, where quite a mess was brewing indeed. Blair’s face was even better, his full lips smeared with grease and grape jelly. Jim even suggested some other interesting ways to deal with food, and Blair just shook his head, amazed at this new Jim Ellison he was discovering.

"You are strange," Blair announced, fascinated.

"Just horny," said Jim, pushing Blair back into the sheets.

"The housekeeping staff is going to freak when they see these sheets, man."

Regardless, Jim pushed Blair face down into the white sheets, and proceeded to tongue fuck him into the next dimension. Bucking into the sheets, Blair came into the big hand that Jim had slipped underneath to cradle him, and the student was so far gone that when he finally turned his head for air, he looked like some kind of movie extra, panting and covered from face to cock with purple and red and yellow food coloring.

Jim burst into laughter. "Hey, you would fit right in in Peru," he said.

"Very funny, man." Then he said rather shyly, "You really like doing that, don’t you?"

"Doing what? Covering you with grape jelly? Well, let’s just say that I’m not planning to mess up our kitchen like this."

"No," said Blair. "You know. Kiss me…there."

"Oh," said Jim. "Are you asking me if I have a thing for your ass, Sandburg? Yeah, I guess I do. It’s pretty sexy," and he looked liked he was going to go for it again, so Blair quickly moved out of reach with a smile.

Jim got serious. "I hope you know it’s not your ass I’m after," he said. "I mean, it’s great, don’t get me wrong, Chief," and he allowed a brief smile. "But what I want is all in here, Blair," and he poked Blair gently in the chest. "All. Got that? Because if I just wanted ass I’d go for Taggart."

Blair said, "Jim!" and threw a pillow at him.

"C’mon jungle boy, let’s get going," Jim said, holding out a hand. "We’ve got to check out sometime," and he followed Blair to the shower, where they both got in the big enclosure.

"Uhm," said Blair, after Jim set the settings and leaned down to pull him against him for a deep, moving kiss.

"I can’t believe it was just yesterday that I first saw you in here," Jim said.

"Yeah, what was that about, huh? You weren’t…I mean…."

"It was on the up and up, Chief," Jim said. "But I do have to admit that when I saw you standing there, well, it did heat up the old pulse a bit."

"What if I didn’t look like this?" Blair said, looking up at him with sudden trepidation in those blue eyes. "I mean, I won’t, not forever."

"And you think I will? I’ll be hitting that hill before you will, Chief."

"But I don’t care about that," said Blair. "I’d love you if you were doddering around in a wheel chair."

"And you think I wouldn’t? Let’s see, I’ve bandaged your ribs, I’ve held the bowl while you puked your guts out, I helped you with that suppository-"

"God, that was embarrassing," Blair flinched. "I actually thought about that when we were in bed together."

Jim just chuckled and pulled the younger man tighter to him. "Don’t worry, Chief," he said fondly, patting Blair’s dampening hair. "I don’t care if you turn into a barrel-chested old man, you’ll still be the same old annoying Sandburg to me."

"Gee, that makes me feel so much better somehow."

"I mean it," said Jim, taking Blair’s face in his hand. "Yeah, you’re fairly easy on the eyes," he said dryly, "but it takes a lot more than that to make it in the life I live, Chief, and you’ve shown you can take that time and time again. It’ll just be good to know that we’ll have each other to patch up the wounds and tend the scars."

"Yeah," said Blair, eyes soft. "You said it, man." And they kissed, briefly, before Jim got the soap.

"Now" he said, with a gleam in his eye. "Bathtime."

Blair had shared a shower or two in his life, but never had he been this thoroughly washed. Jim didn’t let him do anything but stand there with spread legs as the bigger man easily soaped him up one side and down the other. When Jim stood in front of him, washing his cock, Blair thought he would pass out, it was so intimate…and so hot.

"If I had known it was going to be like that…." he gulped, and Jim shot him a smile which went straight to his groin.

"Get the feeling we’re going to be wasting a lot more water?" he asked.

"Damn straight, man," said Blair rather shakily.

Then Jim bent him over and washed him everywhere, his finger gently rimming Blair’s throbbing hole.

"I feel like an invalid," Blair tired to joke, but it was incredibly sexy. "Jim," he finally said, unable to help himself, "if you want to… you know…."

"Aren’t you too sore?" Jim asked, but even Blair could hear the hopefulness in his voice.

"I don’t know, "said Blair.

Regretfully, Jim patted him and moved away. "Not today," he said. "But tomorrow I’m going to bend you over and fuck you senseless."

"Fuck, Jim!" said Blair. "You’re getting awfully butch here, aren’t you?"

"Hey, I got no problem with you inside me, either, Chief. It goes both ways here."

"Well, okay," said Blair. Then he smiled that patented Sandburg flash. "How about right now, then, huh?" and he gave a wicked little bounce on his toes. "You too sore, too?"

Jim paused. "Why not try and see?" he said thoughtfully, and chuckling, he hurried out into the bedroom and got the condoms. "Glad I had these along," he said.

"I’m sure the French have drugstores," Blair said, hardening just at the thought of what he was about to do. ‘Think we can manage in here?" he asked. "You’re a bit taller than me."

"I’ll bend over," said Jim, wagging his eyebrows.

"Jesus, James," said Blair excitedly. "Damn, you’re tearing me up here."

Jim turned around and kissed him, hard, his tongue snaking into Blair’s mouth. They moved through the spewing shower head and pushed hard against the tiles, Blair backing Jim up against the cool wall. They kissed for a very long time, rubbing their hard erections into each other.

"Better hurry, Sandburg," Jim warned.

"You don’t have to tell me." With another look at Jim, Blair turned him around with his hands on the bigger man’s shoulders and Jim braced himself against the wall, spreading his legs as if he were being patted down for weapons. Hey, a neat game to play sometime, Blair thought, wondering if Jim would be up for that and mentally filing it away just in case he was.

"You okay?" Blair asked, moving his hand between the crack of Jim’s ass. Man, what an ass! Blair loved the way the toned muscles rippled as the legs spread wider.

"Keep going," Jim instructed, and Blair took the shower gel and slid his finger inside Jim’s cheeks. Jim groaned at first, but immediately began moving back on Blair’s finger.

"You don’t have to be a tough guy, you know," said Blair. "We got plenty of time for this."

Jim just growled and said, "More."

So Blair gave him more, another finger, and by this time his own cock was wanting some of the action. He found the small nub he was looking for, and Jim almost fell flat against the tiles, groaning.

"Sandburg!" he yelled.

"Ready, baby?" Blair asked. "Are you ready for me, big guy? Because I’ve got to tell you, I’m sure as hell am ready for you." And with that he as gently as possible moved past Jim’s stretched muscles.

There was a long moment where everybody held their breath, then Jim shoved back and said, "Oh yeah!"

Blair was panting like a freight train by this time and he started moving harder, Jim nearly knocking him off balance when he roared back to get just the same effect. They quickly found their own groove, however, and soon they were moving to beat the band, shoving against each other in their brand of lovemaking. Holding on to Jim with one hand, Blair wrapped the other one against Jim’s mighty cock and began frantically stroking.

Roaring like a bull moose, Jim threw his head back and started to spurt. Moved by that sight, Blair came, too, shooting right into Jim, helped even farther along when Jim’s clenching muscles locked onto Blair’s exploding cock.

"Man!" Blair said, trembling as he pulled out, and he sank right down to the floor of the huge shower.

Jim joined him, legs spread as he leaned back against the tile, mouth slack, eyes staring.

"You okay?" Blair asked with a half-laugh.

Jim grunted and said, "Okay, it’s official. We’re not leaving here."

"I hear that," said Blair.

But after that they had to get serious, had to dress and start packing.

"I like you in blue," said Jim off-handedly, as Blair buttoned up his blue silk shirt. "I ever tell you that?"

"No, Jim, I don’t believe you did," said Blair in his rich, deep tone. "But thank you just the same."

"Anytime," said Jim amiably. He stood and looked at the sheets for a moment. They weren’t too bad, but he felt a bit bad about that.

"I’m sure they’ve seen worse," said Blair, following his eyes.

"I know, but still…"

"Look at this way. They’ll put it on your dad’s bill," said Blair.

"Good point," said Jim, and left them. He did leave the housekeeping staff a very nice tip, though.

As they headed out, Blair said, "Man, I hate to leave this place. We gotta come back sometime, you know?"

"I doubt they’ll let us back in after seeing those sheets," said Jim.

"I’m serious. I mean, it’s been really unreal, man."

Jim glanced at him. "You saying the loft isn’t romantic, Sandburg?"

Blair half-lowered his eyes and sent him a sizzling grin. "Oh, I don’t know about that. We’ll see, won’t we?"

"I hope so," grinned Jim. Smiling like newlyweds the regretfully left that hotel room and headed for the airport.

"Room 2057, " said Blair. "I don’t want to forget that number."

Jim smiled.

In the taxi on the way to the airport, Blair glanced at Jim, who was looking out the window. Satisfied that the driver’s eyes were on the road, he reached over and patted Jim’s hand.

Turning in surprise, Jim squeezed his hand back.

Reassured, Blair looked straight ahead.

The flight left on time, and on the plane, everything seemed just like normal. They were friends, they were buddies, they exchanged all kinds of words and comments, but when Blair fell asleep, Jim just sat and watched him with a very soft smile on his face. And thought about all that had happened over the past two days.

When the plane finally touched down in Cascade, Jim got down their carry-ons and they headed for baggage check, then home. They were both very tired.

"Home again, home again," Blair said, when they pulled up to the loft.

"Yeah," said Jim.

Blair glanced at him nervously. He was having a bit of an anxiety attack. What if everything they had shared was going to be left behind in Paris? He just didn’t think he could take that.

They stepped inside the door, and Jim said, "Might as well just take your bags on upstairs, Chief."

Blair stood and blinked for a moment.

"Unless that’s a problem," Jim said, brows narrowing.

"No problem," said Blair quickly. "No problem at all." Grinning happily, he made two trips – taking up all their stuff while Jim opened the mail and checked for messages.

Then Jim called up, "Want some tea?"

"No grape jelly?" Blair said down from the edge of the iron railing above, and Jim laughed.

"Nope, fresh out," he said. "Here I am inviting you to share my clean sheets, Chief, and already you want to make a mess."

"Hey, don’t tell me there’s a no mess in bed rule," said Blair, and Jim walked up the stairs to find Blair opening up his suitcase. Moving over to him, he put his hands on his shoulders and squeezed.

"Depends on what kind of mess you’ve got in mind," he said quietly, arching a brow, and Blair felt himself blush. He couldn’t believe it! After all they had done this weekend.

"I’ll make some room in these drawers for your stuff," Jim said.

"Oh, that’s okay. My stuff can go just anywhere."

"Not up here, it can’t," Jim said sternly, and Blair laughed. Then Jim reached down and unzipped the side pocket of his travel bag. Out came the small Eiffel Tower statue. Both he and Blair just looked at it for a moment.

"That thing needs a place of honor," said Blair softly.

"I agree," said Jim, and their eyes met.

"Welcome home," said Blair.

Jim set their tower down on the table beside the bed. "Welcome home, Chief," he replied.

"Somehow Cascade, the City of Terrorism, doesn’t sound as good as Paris, the City of Lights," said Blair, and Jim just shook his head.

"You got it wrong, Chief. Cascade isn’t the City of Terrorism, it’s the City of Love."

"Oh, it is, is it? Have a name change while we were gone?"

"Uh-huh," said Jim, leaning over and pulling Blair into his arms. "It just became that."

"When?" demanded his dubious companion as Jim neared his lips to his.

"The moment you stepped foot in its city limits," said Jim.

And as their mouths melded together, Blair said "That was pretty good, Jim."

"Thanks," said the sentinel. "Make you horny?"

"I’m as hard as the Arc de Triomphe," Blair said between kisses.

"Good," said Jim, pulling Blair down to the bed, "because I’m as hard as the Eiffel Tower, and you know what that means."

"I don’t think the Eiffel Tower has ever been inside the Arc de Triomphe."

"Anything’s possible in Paris, Sandburg," said Jim.

And lying down with his new lover, Blair said, "But we’re in Cascade."

"I hate quibblers," Jim said.

But in this case, at least, he was lying.

The end.