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DISCLAIMER: Pet Fly Productions and UPN own everything; I maintain I let the boys have more fun. I promise to clean them up and put them away when they're done.

WARNING: NC-17 for graphic depictions of m/m sex. If you're not at least 18, this is not for you. Note: Boy, there are ideas and then there are *ideas*. This one sort of popped into my head fully formed...I just needed to fill in the details. And man, did I put details...(g) Hope y'all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Feel free to share, but the copyright is mine. As always, comments and the like are warmly welcomed and much appreciated.


by Kim Gasper
Copyright July 1997

"You sure you don't want to come along, Jim? It's no problem, man."

"I'm sure, Chief. Gonna stay home, get some stuff done around here."

"Okay, then. I'm outta here. See ya later."

"Yeah, later," Jim echoed as the door shut behind his roommate.

He turned and sat on the couch, body shaking slightly now that he didn't have to hide his reaction to Blair's closeness. When had this started? When had he suddenly decided that he had to have Blair, or die with the wanting? He hadn't wanted another man in years, so what was with this one? Was it even about the male equation, or, more likely, about Blair himself?

He thought about the dozen times a day lately when he'd caught himself staring at Sandburg: the long, silky curls that framed a face so exquisite angels and devils alike would beg. The body...compact, lean, firm. A well-defined, though not overly muscular, chest with an enticing tangle of hair; two brown nipples, areolas a pinkish-hue, the buds of the nipples a darker color, one with a delicate gold ring pierced through it. Legs to die for; hands so incredibly sensual-looking that Jim had to concentrate on not begging Blair to touch him, on running those fingers across his body...

Then there was the other dozen times a day when he would fix his sights on something only in his mind and picture Sandburg's mouth open and welcoming under his, body swaying along with him in some rhythm only they could hear. He would hear Blair's voice whispering words of love and sex to him...whispering that he was Jim's and no other's...that he would never leave him.


He had to do something about this, get it out of his system. No use calling anyone in his phone book--a woman wasn't going to be able to fill in for this one. No, he needed someone hard, muscular...someone male. Someone he could fuck a couple of times and pretend it was Blair...and maybe get these feelings--at least the physical ones--under control. For a while, anyway.

The Desert Oasis.

A whisper of a memory from days best forgotten. No, he wasn't going there--that was a dangerous place for him to be these days, when he no longer had the cover of Vice to smooth over awkward questions. In those days he could always claim to be working a potential bust, be undercover for something. Cops in Major Crimes didn't usually go undercover in gay nightclubs...and knowledge of his bisexuality--especially if he was discovered there--could be inherently dangerous and damaging to his career.

The Desert Oasis. The allure of cruising for a quick fuck, or possibly hustling for one; no commitment, no strings.

No. This wasn't a good idea.

Neither were the feelings he had for Blair, but he didn't seem to be in control of those, either.

Fuck it. If he was going to be in any condition to face Sandburg in the morning, he was going to have to do something. He needed to relieve the pressure somehow...and jerking himself off no longer seemed to help.

He headed for the stairs.

It took some digging around in the back of his closet before he found the box. He paused, hands poised over it. If he opened this now and put them on...could he do it? Did he really want to do this? Yes. His fingers fumbled with the flaps on the box, and he lifted the items out, questioning once more his sanity.

'Not bad, Ellison.' He stared at the reflection in the mirror, wondering for the hundredth time since he'd had the thought, what the hell he was doing. His eyes rose and fell, traveling over his mirrored form.

The pants were tight. Tighter than they'd been five years ago, which was the last time he'd worn them. Form-fitting denim that hugged his thighs, legs and groin. He was going "commando", for two reasons. One, he wasn't certain he could *fit* underwear under the tight pants; two, he decided he liked the feel of the soft, worn fabric rubbing against his already semi-erect cock and balls, and the added sensation of the seam of the jeans rubbing against the sensitive cleft in his ass.

A black leather vest, hanging open, no shirt. His nipples were already peaked with excitement; the anticipation of the hunt for the evening coursing through him.

A small gold hoop in his left ear complimented the outfit; he'd winced with pain when he shoved the earring through a hole that had closed partially in the ensuing years since he'd last worn one.

Black leather boots--shit stompers, they'd called them at one time--completed the outfit.

He watched himself in the mirror. He looked dangerous, a feral gleam in his eye. The hunger in his body rose up, mirrored there in his reflection, and he turned away, excited and dismayed by turns. The panther was going to prowl tonight...the hunt was on.

It took longer than he remembered to get there. The Desert Oasis sat about fifteen miles outside of town, not far off the interstate. Was it anticipation making the drive seem long? Or the darker feelings, the disgust with himself for doing this? Maybe not disgust so much as dismay. Dismay that he couldn't get his emotions--and his body, he reflected ruefully--under control on his own.

He parked the truck and peeled off the sweatshirt he'd worn for 'cover' against the neighbors seeing him, wondering one more time if this was a good idea. Rather, the small portion of his brain that still felt responsible wondered. The rest of his brain and all of his body were screaming at him to get inside, find someone, do something. Ellison reached for the boots he'd carried out in a paper bag--for the same reason he'd worn the sweatshirt. A couple minutes lacing them up and he was ready. He checked his pocket once more for his driver's license and money, locked the truck and headed for entrance.

A burst of insight had kept him from bringing his wallet or his shield...and especially his gun. *That* wouldn't have been good to even have in the truck. He didn't want anyone to be able to ID him as a cop, if anyone should have to ID him at all.

The closer he got to the building the more nervous and excited he got. His sensitive hearing caught the sounds of music pounding the interior of the club, and he decided it would be a good idea to dampen all the senses that could cause him pain. Vision, hearing and smell were all turned down to the minimum levels possible. The kid at the door eyed him and waved him through--no need to ID a guy who was clearly over 21. He could feel the young man's eyes on his back as he passed by and the hunger rose up in him again.

He stood at the threshold of the bar eyeing the occupants with a predatory smile on his lips. Jesus, it was loud and hot in here. More so than he remembered. All those bodies compacted together, moving together...most of them here with the same purpose in mind that he had: nameless, faceless strangers meeting for something both needed. He shuddered at the burning that was moving through him. Even with his sense of smell turned down some things he could still pick out, and pheromones were flying through the air. The scent of arousal was strong all around him and he shuddered again.

He needed a drink. Preferably a *strong* one.

First target. He spotted him sitting at the edge of the bar--obviously turning down someone from the way he was shaking his head--as he picked his way over there. If he wanted a substitute for Sandburg, this one would fit the bill and then some, from what he could see of the back of the man. Curls that looked soft and silky--though maybe not quite as long as his partner's. The man had a trim, compact body that appeared to have been poured into skin-tight leather pants and a mesh tank-top, that showed off the barest hint of tanned back where it rode up.

"Hey, mind if I --" Shock rocked his system as the man turned his head and he found himself staring into Blair's eyes.

Those blue eyes widened, shock and disbelief darkening them. "Jim? What're you doin' here, man?"

"I could ask you the same thing. I thought you went out with Mitch and June." Jim couldn't keep the growl out of his voice.

His partner shrugged. "We were going to, but June didn't feel good and Mitch didn't want to go without her."

"Sandburg--what the *fuck* are you doing here?"

Blair looked around before swinging those eyes back up at him. "Probably the same thing you're doing here, man. Looking for something. Someone."

"Who?" It was a growl this time.

A quick shake of long curls. "No one in particular--just, y'know, had the urge."

"For men."

Blue eyes stabbed him, fire burning within the sapphire depths. "Yeah--so?"

"Nevermind," Jim muttered. "Want a drink?"

"You picking me up?"

"You want to be picked up?"

Jim watched Sandburg's eyes grow darker as they raked up and down his body. "Depends. You gonna make it worth my while?"

Jim's heart stopped briefly and he stared in shock at the man next to him. Was Blair coming on to him? He moved a little closer as a test. Sandburg's body swayed toward his. He moved closer still, invading Blair's personal space now. Wide smokey-blue eyes stared up at him, dilated, bright--inviting. What the hell?

To hide his confusion Jim gestured the bartender over to them and ordered them each a shot of whiskey with beer chasers. He turned back to Blair, considering.

"You come here often?"

He could see the question startled his friend. Blair took a minute to consider, then answered, "Nah, just once in a while when the mood strikes." He shrugged. "I don't usually plan it, it just happens. How 'bout you? I never figured on seeing you in a place like this."

"I used to come when I was--when I worked Vice. Haven't been by since I got out of that." He winced as the music started pounding again and dialed his hearing down one more notch. He didn't have much further he could take it...

Blair watched him. "This is killing you, isn't it?"

"It's not too bad--I have everything turned down."


The younger man's eyes lingered on him and Jim felt the hunger beginning to burn out of control now. As if he sensed Jim's feelings, Sandburg suddenly moved closer to him, heat from his body searing Ellison's skin. Jim looked at his roommate and saw the glint of gold peeking out at him through the mesh shirt. Something about that nipple ring made him want to throw Blair to the ground and fuck him senseless right there.

"You're playing with fire, Sandburg." His voice was a raw growl.

"Maybe I like getting burned."

The words were low, but they echoed around inside Jim's head as if the younger man had screamed them. He moved a little closer to Blair, turning his body, mouth opening to--

"That's thirteen bucks," the bartender said as she set the drinks in front of them. Ellison pulled back, watching for a moment as Blair fumbled in his pocket for some money. He waved him off.

"Forget it. They're on me."

"Thanks, man."

"Here, keep the change," Ellison handed her some bills which she accepted with a smile.

He picked up his glass and tossed it off in one shot. Blair sipped his for a moment before doing the same.

"Whew! Love that burn, don't you?"

"Yeah--great." Another burn, this one white-hot and determined, was moving through him and he shifted his body a fraction closer, his arm now brushing against his Guide's.

The impact of that barest of touches--a mere whisper of skin-against-skin--was enough to send the blood pounding through his system. 'All points alert', his mind seemed to scream as the largest portion of the blood began collecting in his cock.

Primal drums started at that moment, pulsing in time with the dual throb in his head and his groin. Was that music? More people seemed to be on the dance floor now than had been earlier and it was alive with bodies moving, thrusting and gyrating in time to the music and each other. The lighting over the dance area seemed to be dimmer now, only a large strobe light casting garish reflections across the writhing mass gathered there.

"Jim?" A hesitant voice, a soft touch on his hand. "You okay, man? Jim?"

"I'm here, Chief." He paused, noting the hand hadn't been removed. He carefully turned his over and curled his fingers around it. "Wanna dance?" His voice sounded raw even to his own ears.

Sandburg stared at him for a moment and Jim tried to read the expression in those eyes. "Sure. Lead the way, man."

Closer to the dance floor some of his courage deserted him. What if he fucked this up? He couldn't afford to lose Blair's friendship--not over something he could probably live without.

'It's just sex,' his brain tried to tell him. His heart shushed his brain, denying that. 'No, there's a lot more to it then that. There are feelings involved here, emotions. Other things we want, we need. His body spoke up then, screaming loudly, 'Worry about all that later! We want it now--we need it now!'

And the hunger surged up again, stronger than ever.



"How 'bout we stand right here for a few minutes, get used to the music?" Ellison gestured to the fringe area they were in. "Watch some of the other guys. I haven't danced like this in years."

"Sure, man. Fine by me."

They stood side-by-side, touching yet not. Jim turned his sense of smell back up and nearly staggered backward at the rush that hit him. His partner smelled of arousal--deep, musky, salty. A rich, dark smell, redolent with pheromones and a hint of something else, though he couldn't identify it and dared not risk turning the sense up any further. The scent rushed through him, centering in his groin and his cock throbbed uncomfortably in the tight confines of the worn denim.



"You asked if I'd make it worth your while. I will."

"Yeah?" Even in the murkiness of the room he could see the interest sparked in Sandburg's eyes; felt more than heard the sudden shift in heartbeat and breathing.

"Yeah." Ellison's voice was rough with need. "C'mere, babe."

Blair moved over in front of him, eyes luminous in the dark room. Jim shook his head faintly and turned him, shifting the younger man so that they stood back to chest. Jim brought his arms around his waist, pulling him flush against his larger body and they stood there, bodies pressing together in the crush of the crowd.

"You feel good," Jim whispered, licking his partner's ear before sucking the lobe into his mouth. Sandburg shivered in his arms.

"You do too," the smaller man whispered back. Jim smiled against Blair's ear when his partner reached back with his hands to grasp his hips, anchoring them together even more.

They held that position for a while, bodies touching, pressing, swaying gently to the pulsating beat of the music, entranced by the dancers moving around on the dance area in front of them. Bodies touching, grasping, pounding against one another; to both men watching it was like watching a raw, passionate love scene being played out in front of them.

The music changed then, the beat becoming more insistent, demanding more of them. Jim felt the subtle shift in Sandburg's body as the smaller man began pushing back against him, rocking his asscheeks into Jim's pelvis. Ellison groaned as the blood throbbing through his body spiked in temperature. His hands shifted of their own accord, rising, moving up Blair's body; fingers stroking and teasing, feeling the heated flesh beneath the cloth, searching all points.

One set of fingers found the nub with the ring piercing it and he tugged gently through the mesh, eliciting a groan from his partner. The other set of fingers roamed restlessly, touching as much as he could manage. And still their hips undulated, setting a gentle bump and grind rhythm.

Jim lost himself in the pleasures of sensation, the pleasures of touching Blair like this. The physical ache, the hunger that had threatened for so long, was looming large now, obscuring everything. It increased ten-fold when a slender hand--smaller than his, far more sensual--grasped one of his hands and drew it down to the bulge beneath tight leather.

"Do you know what you're doing?" Ellison whispered hoarsely in his partner's ear.

"I hope so," Sandburg whispered back, twisting his head around.

Jim took one look at the pouting lips, the flushed face, the bright, dilated eyes and felt the hunger consume him. There were no more doubts, no insecurities, no world outside of the here and now and the desires in him that had to be appeased. He lowered his head and the world as he knew it exploded.

The mouth under his was hot and demanding, yet acquiescing. Jim moaned into that mouth, stroked his tongue across the hot wet velvet that was Blair's tongue. Tastes exploded in his mouth, coming and going, overwhelming but not enough. He staggered slightly under the magnitude of sensory input, then turned Blair completely into his embrace and claimed what was his by right.

Hot. Wet. Dark. Light. Wind and rain, salt and sweet. His Guide tasted of all those things. Heat stroked across his lips and he realized that Blair had run his tongue across them. Ellison opened his mouth further, forcing Blair to reciprocate, sucked on the younger man's tongue before breaking away from that lush place.

"Are you sure?" he managed, nuzzling along the soft neck.

"Are you?" Sandburg shot back, voice trembling.

"Never been so sure of anything in my life," Jim responded, running his hands down Blair's sides. He reached the curve of the younger man's ass and ran his hands over it, caressing through the leather. Blair moaned when Jim cupped his ass, drawing him closer against the big man.

"I want to touch you..."

Jim drew one of his hands from those luscious asscheeks and grasped Blair's hand in it. He dragged it down to his chest, guiding, holding it firm over his sweaty skin. "Then touch me, baby. Touch all you want." He leaned down to claim Blair's mouth again, fire leaping within him when Sandburg's fingers began pinching and rolling his nipples He moaned against the mouth that he'd captured--that held him captive?--and arched into the touch, hand once against seeking out the firm ass he'd been cradling, fingers tracing the cleft restlessly.

A tiny voice, somewhere in the far reaches of his brain, spoke out wondering what the hell he was doing, making out with his partner on the edge of a dance floor in a public place. The rest of his brain--hell, the rest of *him*--screamed for it to shut up. Then one of Blair's hands worked its way down the waistband of his jeans to run gentle fingers along the firm curve of his ass--and all form of coherent thought vanished as pure, primal instinct took over.

Ellison tightened his hands on Blair's ass and pulled him hard against his body. There was a wall behind them--they were near the back of the club on the far side of the dance floor. He opened his eyes to sight it, never removing his mouth from Blair's, and half-carried, half-dragged the younger man to, pinning him against it with his weight. He released Blair's mouth, dragging his tongue across stubble-rough cheeks and then down, licking a trail from the swollen lips to the nipples he could see through the mesh shirt.

Jim heard a groan above him as he latched on to one through the shirt and tugged gently with his teeth. He worried at it for a moment, sucking and biting, enticing gasps of pain and pleasure from his partner. When it was swollen and throbbing with heat he switched to the other nipple, tonguing carefully, tasting the metallic bite of gold against the sweeter taste of Sandburg. Hands cradled his head, clutching on to him, holding him close to the tempting flesh. He turned his head and nipped at those hands, swirling his tongue suggestively over the thumb. Blue met blue as he did so, both sets of eyes dark and hot.

Sandburg's eyes widened and darkened further when Jim continued downward, sliding to his knees before him. Jim rubbed his cheek against the hard throbbing length concealed behind hot leather, felt it pulse against his skin. His own cock, swollen and achingly hard in his jeans, throbbed in response. He nuzzled for a moment longer, smelling the unmistakable scent of semen, breathing in the heat and arousal of his partner. His tongue darted out and ran up the bulging leather and he heard Blair's growl of lust.

Ellison surged to his feet and grabbed two handfuls of hair, yanking Blair's head back, tilting it up. He took the younger man's mouth in a voracious, sucking kiss, drawing Blair's tongue as far into his own mouth as he could. He felt Sandburg's knee thrust between his legs, bringing them closer still, hungry hands scrabbling at his waist to release the top button. He shifted so he could rub his aching dick hard against the smaller man's body, moving against the hand that was reaching to pet him.

Blair tore his mouth away, gasping. "Jim! Oh, god, Jim..."

"What, baby?" he panted, trying to draw air into lungs that seemed to have forgotten how to work.

"It's so good, good..."

"Yeah," he growled before delving back into the dark sweetness of Sandburg's mouth. He plunged his tongue in and out, fucking the younger man's mouth rapidly, hands wandering at will. Blair's hands were busy kneading and squeezing his ass, rubbing against the seam that was tormenting his cleft, and he pushed his ass back against those hands, seeking their touch.

He was ready to take him right here, right now.

Reluctantly Ellison dragged his mouth away from his partner's, observing the swollen lips, heaving chest, hearing the pounding heartbeat. He leaned in to nuzzle at Blair's ear, rimming the outer edge before whispering, "I have to have you, Blair. I want to bury my cock inside you and fuck you 'til you scream."

A raspy voice moaned, "God, yes."


A hesitant nod. "Are you sure? Jim, this is--"

"I won't make it home, Sandburg. I need you, now. It's dark up there--no one'll care, anyone up there's doing the same thing." Jim drew Blair's hand down to his raging hard-on. "I want you, baby. Gotta have you."

"Yes...." Blair breathed. "Let's go."

They skirted the outer edge of the dance floor to the spiral staircase that led to the 'observation' area above. Aroused as they were the trip up the stairs was awkward and painful, but they both knew what they getting when they got there. Blair followed Jim and twice trailed his fingers up and down the seam of Ellison's jeans where it defined the crack of his butt. Jim threw a look over his shoulder the second time, eyes smoldering with barely banked heat and growled, "Tease."

The wanton look on Blair's face only fueled the fire now raging out of control.

A few people were leaning against the railing watching the dancers, but a quick check with sentinel hearing and vision revealed very few people actually *in* the darkened room.

Room wasn't even quite right--not totally. It was a large enough area, but had been broken down into a several dozen little "rooms"; each one was like a tiny alcove divided from the next by a sectional-like couch that curved around in a "C"-shape, with a tiny table in front of it, for drinks. Most people didn't come up here to drink.

Jim steered them toward an alcove in the far corner of the room, turning as he touched the couch, pulling Blair back into his arms. Their lips met and fused, tongues tangling in hunger, desperate for the taste of each other.

Ellison tugged on Blair's arms and the younger man raised up to encircle Jim's neck, exposing a large patch of bare midriff as his shirt rose up. The bigger man slid his hands up under it, stroking the smooth skin and firm muscle, feeling the ripples and twitches his touch generated. Blair's hands got busy working on the buttons of Jim's jeans, rubbing the straining cock that was outlined against the worn fabric. Jim groaned against Blair's mouth as those incredible fingers delved in and freed his cock, warm skin on his heated flesh, cool air rushing against him. A thumb smoothed over the tip, probing at the tiny fissure, spreading the pre-cum that had already leaked out.

"Yeah, touch me like that....just like that, Blair..."

"Like me touching you?" Blair whispered against Jim's chest, nuzzling into hard nipples.

"God, yes...ohhh..." The fingers stroked, caressed, cajoled, drawing breathy gasps and moans from Ellison. He felt Blair smile against his chest. "Keep touching...don't stop, baby...don't stop...oh, shit..."

"Let it go, Jim..." Blair pushed Jim's pants down his legs, reaching to cup the balls hanging there, rolling them in his hand, squeezing.

"No..." Ellison pushed himself back from Blair and shoved the younger man gently onto the couch. "I want to taste you...drink you. Then I want to fuck you until you can't see straight."

"Oh," came a faint voice below him.

Jim dropped to his knees in front of Blair and began undoing the buttons on his pants, fingers fumbling in his haste to bare Sandburg's cock to his hungry eyes. The leather pants were drawn down, bunched around Blair's ankles, and Jim leaned in to take his first taste of Blair, licking gently across the swollen crown, reveling in Blair's gasp. Flavors and scents exploded across his tastebuds.

Hot. His Guide tasted of heat. Heat, salt, sweat and a slightly bitter flavor; a delicious combination that piggybacked with the other scents and tastes he'd discovered tonight; the total package of Sandburg. He pulled back, enough to give him a little maneuvering room, then he sucked the head of Blair's cock into his mouth, running his tongue all across the top of it.

"Ohmigod....Jim...Ji-i-immm..." Hands clutched at his head, fingers scrambling for purchase.

He ignored everything but his driving need for this and plunged a little further down on the hot, engorged shaft. The reaction was electric: Blair groaned low in his throat and shoved upward against him, forcing the rest of himself into Jim's mouth. The older man grunted and swallowed, taking it all in.

He sucked Blair voraciously, like a starving man, needing to taste him. Bitter pre-cum was flowing copiously from Sandburg's cock and Jim drank eagerly, taking every drop. He could feel the striations in the skin under his tongue; felt and heard the thundering pulse racing through the hard shaft, tasted the salt of the skin itself. Veins rolled beneath his lips as his slid them frantically up and down, working the erection. Blair moaned above him, hands caressing at his head.

Jim reached below the hard dick and grasped Blair's balls, rolling them in his hand, timing the rhythm with his downward motions. He could feel the gradual tightening of the sensitive pouch, felt the blood rushing faster and harder toward the organ as other fluids began to move along different paths. He let go of the straining penis, moving backward from it, a low cry from his partner hanging in the air.

"Jim...?" Blair's voice sounded shaky, breathless.

"Hang on, baby..." Jim reached for Blair, shifting him so his legs lay over his shoulders. He buried his face in the fold between Blair's thigh and groin, inhaling the scent deeply before turning to place a kiss on the inside of the leg. A line of kisses was drawn from Blair's thigh to his cock, then down to his balls. Jim shifted him again, sliding his hands under Blair's hips, cradling his ass. He spread the younger man apart with his thumbs and licked from his balls back to the top of his cleft, pausing to swirl his tongue over the puckered rosebud that beckoned there.

"Please, Jim...god, don't tease..." The hands were clutching at his head again. He drew back slightly, listening to be sure they were still relatively alone, then returned to his task. He swirled his tongue round and round the hole, pressing the tip against the tiny pucker. One hand reached up to close around Blair's straining cock, pumping him briskly in time to the tiny thrusts he made with his tongue. Blair moaned incoherently, arching into his hand, pressing against his tongue.

"Ji-iii-i-immm...I'm gonna...I'm co--...Oh. My. Goooo--mmphh!!" Blair's body arched upward, straining and spasming as thick, milky cream shot from him. His cry was cut off abruptly as he stuffed his shirt into his mouth.

Jim caught the warm fluid in his hand, lubing a finger with it. He pressed the digit against Blair's hole--already somewhat loosened and lubricated--and pushed forward. His Guide's body relaxed around him and the finger eased into the tight passage. He thrust easily with the one and withdrew to add another.

"Mmm--oh, yeah...oh, man..." Blair moved against the fingers, pressing downward.

"You like that, don't you? Like my fingers up your ass, baby?" Jim growled the words low, leaning in to nip at Blair's thighs as he continued to fuck the fingers in and out.

"Oh yeah...give 'em to me...I love it...Oh..." Blair's breathless chant was cut off when Jim withdrew both fingers suddenly, shifting so that Blair's legs fell from his shoulders.

He stood in front of his Guide, erection straining forward, blindly seeking. "Take my pants off," he whispered hoarsely. Blair reached up and ran a finger across the trembling, weeping cock then pushed the tight denim over Jim's hips. The big man sat down on the couch next to him. "Straddle my legs," he commanded in a rough voice.

Blair scrambled to his feet, pushing his pants off his feet. One leg swung over Jim's, then he was straddling his friend, his own cock hardening again in response to the nearness of Jim's.

"Oh, god!" The cry had a surprised ring to it.

Jim smiled as he buried his face in Sandburg's neck. His fingers were slowly working the rest of Blair's cum into the tight passage, twisting and spreading, loosening the ring of muscle there.

"Am I making you hot again, Blair? Do you want me? Want me to fuck your tight little ass until you come screaming?"

"Jesus, yes! Oh, god, yes, I want you to fuck me...stick your dick up me and give it to me!"

The words were exchanged in heated whispers, breathed against hot skin. Blair fucked himself on Jim's fingers, his own fingers playing with the bigger man's hard, tight nipples. A particularly vicious twist and Jim groaned, his cock twitching.

"Enough. I want to come inside you--not on you. C'mere." Jim leaned back against the couch and spat into his hand. He spread the saliva onto his cock, mixing it with the pre-cum that was already coating the head. He grasped Blair's ass, spreading the cheeks wide as he helped the younger man shift forward, raising slightly.

"Ohhhh....fuck, man..." Blair breathed out as he impaled himself slowly on Jim's engorged cock.

"Christ, Blair..." Jim swallowed heavily as he was engulfed by the hottest, tightest passage he'd ever been in. He could feel himself throbbing inside of Blair, felt the smaller man's body throbbing around *him*. It was incredible--the rush of blood through the thin walls of skin caressed and massaged him, Blair's pulse felt like staccato beats pounding along his sensitive cock, the heat of his Guide's body seemed to sear him, branding him. "You're mine. All mine," he whispered hoarsely as he inclined his head to claim Blair's mouth with his. Arms came up around his neck as his--lover--settled his weight more comfortably, rocking to take the rest of his penis in.

"Yours...yes. But *you're* *mine*, Jim."

They rocked together gently for a long moment, lips and tongues searching, tasting, reassuring. Then the hunger that had engulfed both of them began to rise again and movements became more urgent, more frantic.

Blair tore his mouth from Jim's, panting, rocking his body backward. Jim shifted so that he had a better anchored position, and cupped Blair's ass more firmly in his hands, spreading the cheeks. His partner steadied himself with hands on his shoulders and began moving over him, sliding up and down the heated shaft piercing his flesh.

Jim groaned when Blair flexed his sphincter muscles, thrusting up into that moist, welcoming heat. He leaned forward and bit Blair gently on the neck, sucking on the pulse point. His lover moaned low in his throat and Jim did again, biting a little harder this time. Blair's answer was to flex his muscles again.

"Baby, you're killing, you feel so good...tight, hot...I'm fucking you, Blair...I'm inside you, fucking your ass."

"I know...god, I know...I can feel you throbbing inside me...oh, man...OH! Oh, yeah...again, Jim...again...ohhhhh...yeah....yeah, right there...ohhhHH!"

Jim angled his penetration and pushed the tip of his cock against Blair's prostate. The shivers and shudders that racked the younger man were echoed through his own body when Blair tightened around him.

Their movements became faster, harder. Jim slammed up into Blair; Blair rocked down hard on Jim. It became a battle of sorts, players changing sides, working for the same team. Jim sought Blair's mouth in a ravenous kiss, thrusting his tongue into the younger man's mouth like he was thrusting with his cock. Blair reached between them to stroke his own newly engorged organ; Jim brushed his hand away and did it himself, pumping faster and faster to match the frantic pace their bodies were following. He watched Blair's face, the changing, restless expressions and whispered encouragingly, "That's it, baby...cum for me...I want to see you cum...there you go..."

Blair convulsed, his body stiffening and contracting as he shot his cream onto Jim's chest. The older man thrust hard into the willing body, holding his thrust as Blair's body tightened around him, muscles clenching, milking his orgasm. He shuddered for long moments, shaking from the intensity as Blair flexed and contracted around him, over and over.

Then it was done, and they sat there, Jim still buried deep within Sandburg, both men panting and shaking from the intensity of the sensations--and the emotions.

Jim rested with his head back against the couch, Blair lying against his chest. Warm, moist air moved across his ultrasensitive skin and he arched slightly into it. He brought a hand up to tangle into those incredible curls, reflecting for a moment that they were indeed as soft as they looked.

"Blair?" No response. "Chief?"

"Yeah." The utter contentedness in his Guide's voice surprised him and he forgot for a minute what he wanted to ask. "What, Jim?"

"You okay?"

"If I were any more okay I'd be dead." The voice was muffled against his chest. Jim gripped a handful of hair and pulled the head back gently, staring at him.

"You sure?"

"I'm fine, man. Better than fine. Fucking fantastic."

Jim relaxed, releasing his hold on the curls. "Yeah, me too."

They sat there, stroking each other softly, for several minutes. Then Blair sighed and raised himself off Jim's chest. "We should get dressed, Jim. This really is a public place."

Jim smiled at his--lover?--at Sandburg. "Yeah, it is, isn't it?" If anyone had told him an hour ago that he'd go to the club, discover his roommate within, then proceed to have incredible, hard-core sex with said roommate, he'd have called them a liar then busted them for illegal drug use. Yet here he was, phased not one little bit, sitting half naked and totally satiated on a couch in the observation lounge, an equally naked and satiated Blair on his lap. Reality really was stranger than fiction.



Jim hesitated. He knew what he wanted to say, just not how to say it. "Let's get dressed."


For several minutes there was only the rustle of cloth, buttons and zippers as they found their pants and pulled them on, then rearranged themselves as best they could. At last, seated side-by-side on the couch, they stared at each other, eyes dark mirrors to the souls within. Finally Jim spoke, needing to break the silence.

"I...This isn't just sex for me, Chief. I have...there's a lot more involved here than that." He pulled his gaze up to meet Blair's eyes. The younger man was regarding him steadily.

"For me too, Jim. For me too."

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