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Keep on Truckin'

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Keep on Truckin’

by Sugar and Spice

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Author's disclaimer: Not intended to infringe on Pet Fly, UPN, or anybody else.
Original characters belong to the authors. This story contains m/m sex--if you're not 18 or don't like men loving each other, please step off the bus at this time. Thank you.

//My life is a really bad sitcom// Blair reflected as he watched the wipers struggle to keep up with the snow that threatened to obliterate his view of the world outside the windshield of their rig. Turning to glare at the silently brooding man in the passenger seat, he amused himself with thoughts of revenge until Jim looked over at him.

"Tell me again why I'm here, Jim?" He winced slightly at the petulant tone of his own voice, but he'd spent too many hours cooped up in too little space, and he was ready to bounce off the doors with the biggest case of cabin fever he'd every experienced.

"Because you can drive the truck."

The frustration in Jims normally fluid tones brought a malicious smile to the anthropologists face, and his reply dripped sarcastic acid.

"We're not driving, Jim. We're sitting on the side of the road in a fucking snow storm."

Jim snorted angrily as he jerked around to face his partner. "What? I'm supposed to predict the weather now?!"

Blair quirked an eyebrow at the detective, his smile suddenly smug as he turned back to watch the blinding white curtain close in around them. Sighing heavily with remorse for his unfair treatment of his best friend, the grad student dug through the bag he'd tossed into the sleeper earlier and pulled out a bottle of water, handing it to his partner as a silent peace offering before taking one for himself.

Unappeased, Jim jabbed angrily at the buttons on his cell phone, then grunted in surprise as the connection actually went through. Hed been trying for a couple of hours to reach Simon to tell him it looked like they were stuck for the night. After a brief conversation that consisted mostly of yes sirs and muttered curses, he disconnected the call and downed half his bottle of water in several long swallows.

Huddling into his coat, struggling to keep his eyes away from the torturous sight of Jims strong neck arched so invitingly, Blair shivered, drawing the detectives attention back to him. Glancing anxiously toward the sleeper then out the truck window at the icy sheets swirling around them, he shivered again..

The sound of Jims voice boomed in the small space, and he jumped nervously as the Sentinel asked suspiciously, "What's going through that hyperactive head of yours, Chief?"

Stumbling over his words, he muttered as he waved vaguely toward the back of the truck, "Uh, well, I - I'm just wondering how we're both gonna, you know, fit in that sleeper."

"Maybe one of us could sleep in the seats?" The fiercely thoughtful expression on Jims face almost triggered an attack of giggles, until Blair realized Jim would probably insist on sitting up front in the cold. No way was he going to let the Sentinel sacrifice himself like that. Besides, the sleeper probably wouldn't be any warmer without their combined body heat.

"And freeze? I don't think so, man. You dont know how cold it can get in one of these babies when it's sitting still in cold weather."

"Can't we just turn the heater on?" Jim nodded towards the console.

"We could, but it wouldn't do any good. See, Jim, unless a diesel is moving down the road, it's just not gonna get warm enough to generate much heat. And the longer we sit still, the colder it's gonna get."


"Yeah, damn."

Jim studied the sleeper, then both of them, watching as his partner rubbed his hands together in an effort to stimulate enough circulation to warm already chilly fingers. Nodding to himself, he ordered gruffly, "Climb in, Sandburg."

"Huh?" Blair's head whipped around to stare at Jim quizzically.

"You get in first. That way, I'll be on the outside."

Although the idea of being snuggled into the small space with Jim was doing wonderful, terrible things to Blair's lower body, he pushed his libido away long enough to ask, "Why do you get the outside?"

An exasperated sigh combined with a 'duh' look punctuated Jim's less than patient explanation. "Sandburg, who's the Blessed Protector here? If I'm on the outside, anyone trying to get in has to go through me first."

"Oh, right. Good plan, Jim."

Slightly embarrassed and more than a little aroused, Blair climbed between the seats and flattened himself as close to the back of the sleeper as he could. Jim followed him in, turning on his side so that he was facing the cab and placed his gun within easy reach on the gear box. Settling gingerly, they each tried to give the other some semblance of space, maintaining a careful few inches between them. A long, frustrating day and the roaring wind soon combined to lull them to sleep.

Jim snapped awake, senses instantly alert. He was cool, but not uncomfortably so. The wind was still whistling around the truck, layering its burden of heavy, wet snow over the windows so the interior of the cab was lit by an eerie pinkish glow of the lights from outside. Working through each one carefully, he stretched his senses to find what had startled him out of sleep. With a guilty shock, he realized one of his hands was buried in Blair's hair, the long silky strands twining around his fingers, holding him captive. The younger man was curled warmly against his side, one limp arm draped across the detective's chest while a sturdy leg burrowed between Jim's.

With a blinding flash of awareness, accompanied by the incredible sensation of Blair's jean-covered leg slowly rubbing against his, Jim realized that he was very turned on by his very male roommate. Inadvertently tightening shaky fingers around the gossamer mass in his hand, the detective held his breath as he waited to see what his partner would do. After a momentary hesitation, Blair slowly inched his leg up until his knee nestled into Jim's aching groin, the expanding bundle between his legs branding the Sentinel's hip with its sweltering heat..

A gentle press against the detective's filling cock told the grad student that there was probably very little danger he'd be thrown out of the truck if he continued the stealthy seduction. Tightening his arm around Jim's motionless chest, Blair gently nuzzled the warm, satiny neck he'd been admiring earlier.

"Blair?" His name puffed explosively into his hair as he pressed a little harder against the swelling mass.

/Damn, I hope he's awake./ Jim went from breathless to hyperventilating in zero seconds flat as Blair's knee teased him fully erect.

"Yeah?" The tentative reply was husky with sleep and something else that sent a thrill spidering across Jim's nerves.

/Please oh please oh please don't be mad./ Blair froze as he waited for Jim's next words.

"Are you awake?" The shaky tremor in Jim's voice rattled the younger man, and he quivered slightly as the tension built.

/Please don't let him be thinking of someone else./ Jim held his breath, sure he was either dreaming or insane.

"Yeah." Hardly a whisper, but more than a breath, he admitted to his part in what they were about to do.

/This is it./ Another gentle nudge into the bulging hardness between Jim's legs reassured Blair that he wasn't dreaming.

"Oh." Accepting that reality had finally caught up with his fantasies, the detective wasn't sure what to say or do.

/This is it./ Then the knee sliding over the growing protrusion straining inside his jeans drove a low groan rumbling up from the depths of Jim's chest.

Reaching for the light switch, Blair whispered, "Turn down your vision."

Closing his eyes as he flipped the switch, Blair slowly opened them and tilted his head back, trying to read Jim's face in the dim light. The Sentinel adjusted his sight so that Blair's face was clearly defined, his heart lurching when he saw the worry and fear, then relaxing as he realized they were surrounded by love.

Cradling Blair's head carefully in both hands, Jim pulled his Guide up his body until their mouths were less than a breath apart. Starving for the man in his arms, the Sentinel paused long enough to dial up his sense of smell, inhaling deeply the hint of herbal shampoo, the clean scent of deodorant, and the undeniable musk of arousal. Even as his brain processed the scents, his body screamed for him to taste the full, lush lips that waited so tantalizingly close.

Closing the distance, Jim pressed his mouth to Blair's, then ran the tip of his tongue over the firm cushion, tickling the lips playfully, almost grinning when they opened with a soft sigh. As Blair's tongue brushed against his and the exotic taste almost overwhelmed him, Jim moaned, his fingers grabbing convulsively at the thick curls. Holding his partner's head still, the detective gently explored the wet heat of Blair's luscious mouth. His most vivid fantasies of the younger man had never come close to the reality lying warm and heavy in his arms.

Spiced honeymead, hot and sweet, couldn't compare with the intoxicating taste filling Jim's mouth. Searching for more of the enticing flavor, he swept his tongue over pearly smooth teeth, around ridged gums, stroked the inside of softly yielding lips, and played with the rough velvet of Blair's tongue.

A groan vibrated between them as Jim shifted Blair's body so that their cocks brushed together once, then again, the heat building between as the hard ridges met and matched, aligning perfectly. The detective unwound his fingers from the coiling strands and slid both hands down to cup rounded ass cheeks, squeezing them gently as he thrust upward. Blair immediately responded, undulating against him slowly in a sinuous rhythm that whipped the flames higher until they were burning out of control.

Wrenching free of the kiss, the younger man stared down into the Sentinel's eyes, searching the electric blue depths for a moment. His own eyes widening at what he found there, Blair drew a deep, shuddering breath before lowering his mouth to claim Jim's in a soft exploration that soon became a plundering raid.

As passion blistered between them, Blair thrust frantically against his partner, grunting with the strong lunges. Lifting his head to pant harshly, the grad student jerked in surprise when a wet tongue licked along his throat and a hot mouth sucked voraciously against the soft skin. Fire skittered across his nerves until it coalesced in his groin, erupting in an explosive orgasm that gathered from all parts of his body to burst free in a gout of hot, silky cream, filling his jeans and soothing the rough rub of denim against sensitive skin.

"J...jjjii...iiimmmm." Moaning his partner and lover's name softly, Blair collapsed onto the heaving chest below him. He was vaguely aware of hearing his own name whispered fiercely as a final hard thrust from Jim spread wet heat to join the moist stickiness in his groin.

A tender kiss brushed against his head and the sound of his name whispered through the quiet hiss of falling snow, a prayer murmured softly and with infinite love, following him down into the gentle folds of sleep.

As he held the relaxed body tightly to his, Jim Ellison's heart fluttered wildly while he replayed the memories of the last half hour. In the sleeper of a tractor-trailer, in a blinding snowstorm, in the middle of nowhere, he had just made love with his partner and friend, Blair Sandburg.

And it had been love, not sex --- at least not just sex. Jim was very sure of that. The light in Blair's luminous blue eyes came straight from the younger man's heart. There was passion and lust certainly, but the detective was very sure of his feelings for the cherished bundle snuggled warmly in his arms and was equally sure they were returned fully.

Jim had admitted to himself the truth of his feelings for Blair months ago. He loved the younger man with a depth of emotion that astonished and surprised him. At a time when he'd given up on having anything more than the fleeting passion of an occasional one-night stand, he'd suddenly been given a gift more precious than life.

He'd caught a few longing glances from his partner and sensed Blair's physical reactions to his presence. That, added to the sound of his name whispered hotly in dreams or at the height of self-induced orgasm when Blair thought his partner sound asleep, convinced him that the grad student was attracted to him as well. The time just never seemed right to bring up the subject.

Now, here he was, his arms full of love and his pants full of the sticky results of that love. All in all, Jim couldn't recall being happier in his entire life, and laughter rumbled through him softly. Just when he thought he'd have to wake his partner to get them cleaned up, Blair stirred, lifting his head, a soft, sleepy smile softening his mouth into an irresistible invitation. The Sentinel slid one hand around the back of the sweaty neck under the warm mass of curls and pulled him into a breath-stealing kiss. When he released the swollen mouth, another blinding smile rewarded his passion.

"Mmm, so it wasn't just another wet dream." The husky voice sent a thrill washing through Jim's body to pool in his still throbbing groin.

Humping his renewed erection gently against the soft bulk of Blair's genitals, Jim chuckled. "Wet, yes; dream, not a chance."

Blair gasped as his cock twitched in response to Jim's sensuous seduction, beginning to fill and lengthen again. Kissing the detective fiercely, he thrust downward, grimacing slightly at the clammy residue of his earlier climax. Before he could suggest a cleanup, someone banged on the passenger door of the truck.

Two pairs of startled eyes met, and Jim raised an eyebrow. "Expecting company, Chief?"

Blair snorted. "Not hardly, man."

Tugging his shirt down in an attempt to hide the wet stain at his crotch, Blair crawled off his lover and clambered into the passenger seat. Cautiously lowering the window, surprised to find the weather calm, Blair peered curiously down into a young face coated with too much makeup in an attempt to disguise more years experience than the body had lived. A practiced smile stretched the mouth wide, but stopped short of emotionless eyes.

"Hey, handsome, want some company?"

Uncharacteristically at a loss for words, Blair turned toward the sleeper, his eyes huge in the snow-reflected light. "Hey, Jim, want some company?"

"Sandburg, get your ass back in this sleeper."

Jim's growled words were more sympathetic than they might have seemed, his heart aching at the bewildered pain shining from the ocean blue depths. As much as he hated to see his young partner hurt, the detective hoped Blair never lost the wide-eyed innocence that left him vulnerable at times like this. That, and the seemingly inexhaustible energy, were the two most precious sources of hope in his sometimes dark and dangerous world.

Leaning out the window, Blair watched as resigned acceptance wiped the smile from the young woman's mouth and smoothed another layer of hopelessness across her sad eyes.

"Guess that's a no, huh?"

"'fraid so." Blair's timid smile apologized for her failure and offered what comfort he could. As she turned to leave, Blair called her back. "Hey, wait a minute."

The anthropologist dug a twenty from his pocket and held it out the window. "Here, take this."

"I don't do threesomes." Her face was suddenly hard, and she stared at him with suspicious eyes, sidling away into the night.

Blair blushed furiously and rushed to reassure her. "No, no, I don't want anything. Look, I just don't want you to get into trouble or anything, okay?"

Still not trusting, she edged close enough to grab the money and, mumbling a hurried thanks, tucked it in her jacket. Watching the small, forlorn figure slip silently through the snowy gloom toward the next truck, Blair shook his head sadly, then closed the window. Sighing, he crawled back into the sleeper and stretched out on top of his lover. They were silent for a few moments, resting in the comforting embrace of each other, Jim's solid presence a consolation in a world that was suddenly a little less joyous.

"Snow's stopped." Blair's tiny whisper barely stirred the air in the truck.

"Maybe we can make it to the bathroom." Jim was quietly contemplative, holding his lover close while he rubbed soothing circles over the tense muscles of Blair's back.

A disbelieving snort chuffed against his neck, then Blair raised his head and wide blue eyes stared incredulously down into Jim's. "Get out in this cold?! Wearing damp --- no, wait, make that wet clothes?! I don't think so."

Seeing an opportunity to take Blair's mind off the young prostitute, Jim stroked talented fingers along the sensitive crevice of the younger man's ass, gently kneading the firm flesh through tight denim.

"I'll make it worth your while."

Jim's sultry words lit a flashfire of arousal, and passion's winds fanned the flames into a raging inferno as Blair grinned hotly at the detective.


The tone was teasing, but the question held more than just a request for a guarantee of physical pleasure.


The solemn answer satisfied any questions remaining in either of their hearts.