Jim Ellison lifted his bottle and watched a bead of condensation slowly trail down the neck and inch along the edge of the label. He smiled indulgently at his image, reflected in the small drop of water, before he brought the bottle to his lips and took a swig.
Cold and crisp. Barley, malt, yeast, sugar. As perfect as a beer could be.
As perfect as the other four beers he'd had earlier, celebrating the successful conclusion of a highly publicized child pornography case. Simon had invited everyone who had contributed to catching the perps out for a drink or two. Or, in Jim's case, four.
He rested his bottle on his stomach and let his head drop against the back of the couch, feeling more relaxed than he had in the past two weeks. The bad guys were in jail, and even their defense lawyers had blanched when they saw the evidence against them. He felt the corners of his mouth curve up again.
Hell, yes, he deserved those beers. They all had. Especially Sandburg, whose mysterious rapport with children - and don't think there hadn't been jokes about that - had provided them with the break they'd needed to crack the case. Come to think of it, Sandburg had had four beers as well, which was why Simon had insisted that they leave the truck in the parking lot and take a cab home. And now, like Jim, he was working on his fifth, sitting on the other couch, his feet up on the coffee table, his mouth, a perfect O, encircling the neck of the bottle as he drank.
Life was sweet.
Jim waited as Blair swallowed, then he lifted his head and raised his beer in a salute.
"Oh, man..." Blair grinned at him. "She's easy. A five. Intelligent, good-looking, but the boss's assistant. A word of advice: never date the boss's assistant. Too big a risk."
Jim nodded. "Yeah. I hear you." He took another drink, his eyes never leaving Blair's face.
Wrinkling his brow, Blair frowned at his bottle. "Lessee... Ria Coombs."
Jim snorted and Blair's lips twitched.
"Coombs?" Jim said, incredulously. "You've got to be kidding, Chief. She may look like a sex kitten, but she's got the brains of a kitchen sponge. She gets a one because she's breathing, but that's it." Blair laughed, and Jim thought for a moment. "Sam."
"Ouch." Wrinkling his nose, Blair shrugged. "Three. Smart, beautiful and about as deadly as a black widow. I value my skin too much to date her again." He glanced at Jim and then back at his bottle, his lips pressed firmly together, like he was suppressing something.
Jim looked at him warily. Something was up. He lifted his bottle to his lips.
"Right." Blair raised innocent eyes to his and as soon as Jim started to drink, said, "Rafe."
The beer caught in his throat, threatening to spew all over the place, but Jim finally managed to swallow. He leaned forward and coughed, his eyes watering. Rafe?
"You okay, Jim?" Suddenly Blair was sitting next to him, thumping him on the back.
"Yeah," he croaked, waving his hand and gratefully sucking in a lungful of air. "Just went down the wrong pipe." His voice was raspy, and he wiped his damp eyes. Blair stopped hitting him on the back, but was still sitting beside him, eyeing him with concern. Jim blinked and coughed again. Rafe. I'll give him Rafe.
"Oh, an eight," Jim said, clearing his throat and leaning back nonchalantly. "He's smart, damn good-looking, and a lot of fun. I'd date him in a New York minute."
Blair looked startled and Jim hid his grin by taking another drink. Two can play at this game. He raked his eyes over Blair and nodded once. Blair suddenly looked uncomfortable.
Jim had to admit Sandburg did a good job of hiding his surprise, but it was there. He could hear it, see it, and smell it. And it served him right, the sneaky bastard. Cocking his head to one side, he raised his eyebrows and looked at Blair.
"Uhhhh..." A flush crept up Blair's throat and over his cheeks. "Four. Intelligent. Handsome. Completely straight."
Jim nodded and took another drink. His eyes strayed to Blair as he sat there, silent, on the couch. He was staring down at his tightly clasped hands, his one leg jiggling nervously. Jim shifted on the cushion. Something had changed...
Blair took a deep breath and leaned forward, grabbing his beer. "Blair Sandburg," he said quietly, and tilted the bottle up, closing his eyes as he swallowed.
Suddenly conscious of his breathing, of the damp chill of the bottle in his hand, Jim turned his head and looked at the motionless form beside him. Blair's eyes were still closed and his hand grasped the bottle in a death-grip.
His tongue felt gluey and thick as he opened his mouth. "Oh yeah, I know him," he finally said, his voice shaking. "Smartest guy I ever met. Not conventionally handsome, but I-" His voice cut out and he cleared his throat. "I think he's the most attractive person I know. I've wanted to date him since... Well, since I first saw him. Definitely an eleven."
Blair's eyes fluttered open and he slowly turned to Jim. His expression was solemn, but his eyes blazed with hope.
Jim quickly licked his lips. "Jim Ellison," he managed to croak out.
Cool fingers rested against his throat. Blair met his eyes and nodded. "Yeah, he's a good one," he began, his voice husky. "More intelligent than he lets on, with a body like Adonis." The fingers slid around to the back of Jim's neck and he shivered. "I don't remember when I first realized I wanted him, but I do."
Jim's eyes closed and he could hear his own raspy breathing, loud in the stillness. The fingers rubbed his tight neck muscles, slowly drawing him forward. He could feel Blair's heat before him, like a beacon.
"Jim?" The word was no more than a whisper. "Open your eyes and look at me."
He obeyed. Blair's face was an inch from his, and Jim could see the tiny incipient crow's feet at the corners of his eyes, the thin sheen of sweat over his upper lip, the blunt-tipped stubble sprinkled over his jaw. And his eyes, dark, needy, commanding...
"You're a twelve, man, at least." Blair's breath, rich with the scent of barley and yeast, spread over his skin and he inhaled sharply, savoring it.
His eyes closed again and he waited, feeling the heat increase, and then lips were pressed to his and he opened his mouth, welcoming the questing tongue. A cold spot blossomed on his back, but he concentrated on the heat before him, on touching as much of that strong body as possible.
Then the mouth, tongue, and heat were gone, and the forgotten bottle clasped in his nerveless fingers was removed. He made a noise of loss deep in his chest.
"Oh, man," came an astonished murmur. "Look at me, Jim."
It was hard to open his eyes, but he did as he was asked, blinking in the dim light coming from the kitchen.
"Blair," he whispered, reaching out to touch the face looking at him with such tenderness. His fingers were captured and kissed, then pulled down to the hottest place of all.
"Feel that?" Blair asked quietly, pressing his hand against soft denim and the hardness underneath. He nodded, kneading gently. "That's what you do to me," Blair continued with a groan, "what you've always done to me."
He fumbled as he tried to unfasten Blair's jeans, and then his fingers were stilled. "No..."
Turning startled eyes to his partner's, he froze in panic. What had he done?
"Not yet, Jim," Blair amended, drawing Jim's hands up to his lips and nuzzling them briefly. "I want to see you. I want you to show me what you like..."
Jim shivered as his hands were kissed. He watched, mesmerized, as those hands - Blair's hands - slowly unbuttoned his shirt, pulling it open and then smoothing over his chest to the waistband of his trousers.
"Show me what pleases you, Jim," he murmured, unfastening Jim's trousers. He urged Jim to raise his hips and carefully pushed both trousers and boxers past Jim's bobbing erection and down to his knees. "Show me how to make love to you..." he said as he dropped to his knees, quickly untying Jim's boots and pulling them off. Drawing Jim's clothes down his legs and over his feet, Blair tossed them onto the other couch. "Let me watch you..." he breathed, his hands skimming lightly over Jim's quivering thighs.
Jim nodded, mute, aching with the need to do as Blair asked. He slid lower on the seat, raising his legs and resting his feet on the coffee table. With a small, needy groan, Blair scrambled up and sat on the table between Jim's feet. He gently stroked the insides of Jim's thighs, then grabbed his hips, pulling him forward until his ass was half-way off the couch.
Reaching blindly for a cushion, Jim found one and shoved it under his back. He slid his hands down his chest, not believing that he was here, doing this, so open, so exposed and vulnerable... His heart sang with joy.
He stared at Blair, who sat quietly, hands resting on Jim's knees. "Do it," Blair whispered. "Show me what to do."
Scarcely breathing, Jim skimmed his hands over his chest, brushing his nipples once, twice, before sliding his fingers down his belly. He encircled his cock and squeezed gently, then stroked up the length, rubbing his thumb over the damp tip, shivering as Blair's eyes darkened.
"You like that?" Blair asked softly. When Jim nodded wordlessly, he licked his lips and leaned forward. "Show me more."
Jim continued stroking his cock, slowly, slowly, from root to tip, as his other hand pinched his nipples. He groaned and let his eyes close as the pleasure shimmered through him.
"Open your eyes, Jim," Blair ordered.
So he forced his eyes open and drank in the sight of Blair, eyes wide, lips wet, staring at him hotly. The sight made him bold. He sped up his strokes a little, his fingers growing damp from his leaking cock. Pinching his nipples one last time, he shifted his hips, enjoying Blair's small gasp of lust, and stuck his finger in his mouth.
"Oh, my god," Blair murmured, his eyes growing darker. Jim inhaled the rich scent of his arousal, adding fuel to the fire burning in his gut.
Jim felt his face grow warm as he pulled his wet finger from between his lips. He was really going to do this...
Jim's hand moved down his body, under his leg, to tease between the sweaty cheeks, knowing that every ounce of Blair's attention was on that finger. Blair moaned when Jim brushed his tightly clenched hole, and Jim's cock twitched at the sound.
"Must see..." Blair barely whispered as he reached out, his fingers gently spreading Jim's cheeks. With a shiver, Jim slowly pushed his finger inside, biting his lip at the familiar sensations of pressure and fullness. But this was different from all the times he had done this alone in his bed. This time Blair was watching him, touching him... A hiss escaped as he pushed his finger in further, echoed when Blair quickly sucked in a breath.
Flames licked at his cock, his balls, his ass. Blair's fingers burned him, Blair's eyes devoured him. He was as transparent as glass, as clear as crystal, vibrating under those fingers, those eyes.
"Now, Jim," Blair said, raising his eyes to meet Jim's, "come now."
Jim stroked his cock once, twice, pulled his finger out slightly and rammed it back in. His thighs quivered, his balls drew up and, with a strangled cry of "Blair!" he came.
Warmth pooled on his belly, covered his hand and cock and he closed his eyes. His boneless body hummed and rang, his chest heaved as he panted, trying to draw in breath.
"Beautiful, man, just beautiful." The hands on his ass slid up between his thighs, and a gentle kiss was placed on his balls. The hands moved further, fingers twining with his, sliding through the wetness that coated his hand and cock. Another kiss was placed on the tip of his softening cock, and fingers swirled through the come spreading slowly across his belly.
He shifted and began to pull his finger out, but Blair quickly whispered "No..." Jim opened his eyes and looked at him questioningly. "Wait," Blair said, lifting his hand from Jim's stomach. "Let me..."
A wet finger slid down his ass cheek and Jim gasped. Blair was going to... Oh, god. It brushed against his stretched hole and wiggled insistently, tickling his finger still lodged inside. He moaned as the finger pressed against him, shuddering as it breached his muscle and slid inside. He could feel it both inside him and along his own finger, and his cock twitched at the dual sensation.
Then the finger moved, going deeper and deeper until he could feel knuckles pressing against his hole. Jim gasped and writhed with pleasure. It was better, so much better than when he was alone.
"Please," he managed to croak, "please fuck me."
A tongue flicked over one nipple and then the other, and he shouted in surprise.
"Yeah." Blair's voice was rough. "I'm gonna go so deep inside you that you'll never get me out."
His eyes fluttered shut and he tightened his ass. "Yes..."
Warm lips covered his for a moment before drawing away. "How about using a bed?"
He nodded, his eyes still closed. "Upstairs..."
"Okay." The finger slipped from his ass. He shivered and let his own finger slide out. Strong hands urged his legs down and he groaned as he rose, feeling bereft until Blair pressed himself against him. "Open your eyes, Jim. I don't want to you trip."
He nodded and did as he was told. Blair was grinning at him and he smiled shyly in return. He wanted... He knew what he wanted, but how could he ask for it? He didn't have the nerve to say the words. Reaching around, he clasped Blair's hand and pulled it slowly down to his ass.
"Please..." he whispered, pressing it against his cheek.
Blair's smile faded and his eyes grew wide. "Yeah," he said, nodding slowly, his voice shaky. "Yeah."
Jim slid his hand around the back of Blair's neck and pulled him close as those fingers slid along the crease. When Blair pushed his finger back into his tender hole, Jim shivered and dropped a kiss on Blair's forehead.
Breathing hard, Blair pressed his other hand against his groin and kissed Jim's jaw. "Hurry..."
It was awkward walking up the stairs with Blair's finger up his ass, but Jim relished the pressure, the feel of Blair plastered to his side, the fact that he was practically naked while Blair was still fully clothed. His cock hung heavily before him, swaying as they moved.
"Elbows and knees," Blair breathed as they crossed to the bed.
"Wait." Jim scrabbled under the pillow and handed Blair a small tube, then knelt, leaning forward on his elbows, burying his face in the comforter. Soon, soon...
He heard Blair's rasping breaths, the sound of his zipper opening and rustling cloth, then the snap of the tube's lid.
"Almost there, Jim." A kiss was planted on the base of his spine. "It's gonna be cold..."
He hissed as cool gel was smeared on his hole, and the finger slid out. "Do it, do it," he pleaded, wiggling his hips impatiently.
Hands held his ass, spreading his cheeks gently. He grunted as Blair pressed against him, almost screaming with the pleasure as his muscles relaxed and Blair entered.
"Oh, my god..." There was awe in Blair's voice. His fingers gripped Jim's hips tightly, holding him still as he sank inside. "Oh, Jim..." Kisses were peppered over his back, and Jim clenched his ass encouragingly.
"Hurry, Chief." He snaked his hand beneath himself and grabbed his cock, pumping it quickly.
"Aw, fuck!" Blair suddenly plunged deep inside, thrusting forward almost brutally, and Jim braced himself as well as he could. He could feel Blair's balls slapping against his ass, feel the hard length pounding into him. Frantically working his cock, he could hear Blair's heart speed up as he neared completion. With a groan, he pushed back hard and tightened his ass muscles.
Blair grunted and pounded into him twice more, then thrust deep and shouted as he came. Jim felt the heat spread inside his gut and gasped as his own orgasm slammed through his body, his hips jerking as he spilled fat drops over the comforter.
With a groan, Blair collapsed on his back. Jim slid flat, gasping for air, Blair's cock still buried deep inside. He was squashed, but it felt good, so damn good to have Blair weighing him down.
They panted together for a few minutes, then Blair grunted and tried to move.
"Don't," Jim rasped. "Stay."
"Can't." Blair's limp cock slid from his body and with a mighty groan he heaved himself onto the bed. "I was crushing you."
"Don't care," mumbled Jim, rolling to his side. Blair sprawled beside him, hair haloing his head, jeans pushed down below his hips, looking desirable, debauched and extremely satisfied.
Blair turned and ran a finger along Jim's jaw. "You'd care if I got glued there when things started to dry out."
"Thanks for that extremely appealing image, Chief."
"Welcome." He pulled up his shirt and scratched his belly, then kicked off his shoes and shucked his jeans. Blair opened his arms and looked at Jim expectantly. "Well, come on. You look like you could use a cuddle right now."
"I... Uh." Jim felt warmth creeping up his throat and over his cheeks. "I'm used to being the cuddler, not the cuddlee."
With a snort, Blair spread his arms wider. "Jim, who gives a shit? I've just had the best sex of my life with the man of my dreams, and I feel like cuddling. So get your incredible, edible ass over here and cuddle, dammit."
Jim slid over and wrapped his arms around Blair's waist, sighing when Blair's arms came around his back, pulling him close. They were silent for a few minutes.
Shifting to move a little closer, Jim murmured, "Man of your dreams, Chief?"
"You heard me, Jim." Blair sounded sleepy and content.
"Hey, listen." Blair clasped Jim's chin and tilted his face up so their eyes met. "You are the man of my dreams, Jim. I mean it. I love you, and not in some half-assed, fraternal, non-sexual way. I love you, in a mature, rip-your-clothes-off-and-fuck-you-senseless, through-thick-and-thin, til-death-do-us-part way." Blair stuck out his jaw and looked belligerent. "You got that?"
"Yeah, I got that." Jim smiled. "Love you, too, Chief. And not in a brotherly way, either."
"Good." There was a pause. "I was wrong about you being a twelve, Jim."
"Yeah. You're off the chart, man. Totally off the chart."
"So are you, Blair." Jim nuzzled against Blair's chest. "So are you."