It couldn't get much better than this. Cool morning air, sweet with the scent of spring flowers and tangy with pine, sun warm on his face, the soft chuckle of water over a shallow, stony stream. Jim drew in a deep breath, held it for a moment, and let it out in a long sigh of satisfaction. He twitched the rod just a fraction, tempting the salmon - five pounds if it was an ounce - to nibble at the fly that Simon had promised no fish could possibly resist.
This one was resisting, but only enough to make the game interesting. Jim smiled, flicked the rod delicately, and watched as the fish edged closer; then its jaws closed around the fly with a snap. Beautiful! Jim flicked the rod again, dragging the hook up into the roof of the salmon's mouth and lifting it out of the water in a shining arc of water drops. He could see the prismatic effect of the sun refracting in the droplets, but resisted the lure of his senses. He had a fish to land.
He turned his head to locate Sandburg, somewhere behind him with that damn Cree fishing spear... and nearly dropped the rod, fish and all, into the pool where he stood, knee deep. Jim's jaw sagged as all thoughts of calling for his partner's help in netting the salmon fled.
Leaning forward, poised above a shallow pool with his bare toes clinging to a couple of river stones, and his arm raised, Blair hadn't even noticed Jim's movement. His eyes were riveted to the salmon that was swimming in a leisurely way towards the tip of his fishing spear. Every muscle in his naked body was taut with anticipation and Jim thought that this, surely, must be the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen.
Automatically, Jim's sight zeroed in on the younger man. He could have zoned on any one of a dozen things, from the glint of light on the tumble of curls around Blair's down turned face to the easy glide of muscle under the fine skin of his buttocks as he shifted his weight minutely.
The tableau was shattered a moment later when the fish finally came within Blair's range. His arm tensed, drew back slightly, then flashed down. With a triumphant yell, Blair brought his arm up, twisting his wrist and angling the spear so he wouldn't lose the fish he'd impaled.
"Jim!" Blair grinned broadly. "Get the net, man!"
Acting on autopilot, Jim managed to toss his rod onto the grassy bank a few feet away and crossed to the other side of the stream, pulling the net from his utility belt. Years of military and police training had taught Jim to deal with one thing at a time. First, net the fish. He accomplished that and dropped the dying fish into a small, shallow pool, still tangled in the net.
Completely unselfconscious, Blair met Jim's eyes, his own gleaming with silent laughter. Water droplets were scattered everywhere, sparkling among the tangled curls, the dark whorls of hair on his chest, and clinging to his cheeks and eyelashes. As Jim hesitated, his heart almost literally in his mouth, Blair's pink tongue came out and scooped up more droplets from his lips.
With a helpless growl, Jim launched himself at the younger man, almost lifting him from his feet as he pushed Blair back against one of the large boulders that created a rocky boundary on this side of the stream. They stared each other in the eye, chests heaving, silently fighting for domination. Then Jim growled again and lunged forward. His lips clutched hungrily at Blair's and his tongue deflected Blair's attack to infiltrate his partner's mouth.
Blair laughed, sending little gusts of Blair-scented air into Jim's mouth. His hands, normally so capable and expressive, fumbled and tore at the buttons of Jim's shirt. Jim broke away, gasping for breath.
"Oh, man. You really have the advantage of me here." With a final wrench the shirt gave way, buttons flying. Strong fingers tugged at Jim's nipples.
"Yeah?" He pushed up against Blair, lifting him with ruthless hands planted firmly on his lover's hips, and trapped him between the rock and an increasingly hard place. Blair promptly wrapped his legs around Jim's hips. "Whose fault is that, Gypsy Rose Lee?"
"I just wanted..." Blair groaned as Jim sucked, then bit one dusky nipple, "ohhhh... wanted to experience... you know... what it would have been like. In the old days."
"I'm no anthropologist, but," Jim smirked, "somehow, I doubt the Cree went fishing naked."
"Well, not naked, exactly..." Blair laughed breathlessly, deep in his throat. The sound vibrated through Jim's body, heading straight to his groin. "Oh, god... fuck me, Jim."
There was nothing in this world he'd rather do, but their surroundings gave him pause. The bank on this side was steep enough that there was nowhere to lie down. He had no intention of letting Blair go long enough to cross back to the other side of the stream, and scramble up to where there was a small, mostly level patch in the shade of the trees.
Blair smiled at him seductively and Jim cast all his hesitations aside. They were well and truly in the Sandburg Zone, and damned if it wasn't a pretty good place to be.
He crowded Blair up against the boulder, reaching between their bodies to wrench open the front of his jeans. A tiny part of his mind shouted its gratitude that he was wearing chaps-style leggings, rather than the chest high waders Simon preferred. His cock throbbed demandingly as Jim freed it from the cloth's stranglehold with a little moan of relief. It leapt up to press against Blair's equally hard cock.
"Yeah..." they both breathed the word in almost perfect unison and Blair grinned, then arched his neck forward to capture Jim's mouth again. Quick. Hard. Hungry. His hips undulated in the cradle of Jim's supporting hands, rubbing their cocks haphazardly together. "Want you. Want you in me, man."
With Jim's hands supporting his butt, and the boulder at his back, Blair was able to release one hand to wrap around both their cocks. The other arm remained where he'd flung it, around Jim's neck for balance and support. It was a damned awkward position they were in, and the amount of friction they were able to generate wasn't anywhere near enough to get off on. Felt good, though.
Leaning into his lover, Jim breathed in the familiar musky scent of arousal, overlaid, prosaically enough, with a faint whiff of wood smoke from last night's campfire and just a hint of fish. "You got any idea what we can use for lube?"
He knew he was in trouble when Blair's eyelids lowered demurely over molten blue eyes. A tiny smile flickered at the corners of his lover's full lips, and Blair risked his precarious position to dig two fingers into one of the utility pockets on Jim's vest and extract a small tube. He'd obviously stashed it there earlier, since Jim certainly hadn't. "Voila!"
They must both be out of their minds. Blair had nothing but the boulder at his back and Jim's hands to keep him from a serious tumble, but he went to work, lubing up Jim's cock and his own with delirious abandon. Jim simply concentrated on breathing, and not letting his lover fall.
It took a bit of concentration and some determined wriggling on Blair's part, but somehow they managed it. Jim's cock pressed snugly up against the opening of his lover's body and for the space of a couple of heartbeats they allowed the anticipation to build, before Blair - he was always the impatient one - rocked his hips downward, taking Jim's cock into his body.
A fulsome groan escaped Blair's parted lips and was echoed by a bass rumble deep in Jim's chest. As many times as they'd done this, every time felt like the first time. Nothing ever prepared him for the sense of connection he experienced when he was inside Blair, or Blair was inside him. Only that incredible moment when their spirit animals had merged had ever eclipsed this feeling.
He whispered Blair's name, shuddering, and allowed his head to fall forward onto Blair's chest. Blair's hand, now back on the nape of his neck, felt like benediction and absolution combined. Soft words teased his hearing, but Jim didn't try to understand them. The loving tone told him everything he needed to hear.
"Jim?" Blair's voice was shaking. "I need... oh god..."
The desperate whisper broke through Jim's distraction and he responded instinctively to the need in his lover's voice. Their bodies moved slowly together and his cock slid deeper into Blair's heat.
"Mmn..." Blair' head rolled back, exposing the sharp point of his Adam's apple. He was watching Jim's face from beneath heavy eyelids, and Jim was sure he saw a calculating gleam in the sliver of blue. "Oh, yeahhhh...."
Again, Blair arched his back, tightening his legs at the same time, so that the angle between their bodies increased; not coincidentally, Jim was sure, making it easier for him to thrust. One square, capable hand moved lazily over Blair's cock, two fingers and a thumb, squeezing and stroking, stroking and squeezing. Lust sizzled through Jim's veins, encouraged by the soft, sensual moans escaping from Blair's throat.
He moved his hands a little higher, holding firmly to Blair's hips and spread his feet wider, trying for more stability. "Easy now, Chief. I've got you."
"Oh yeah. You sure have." Blair grinned complacently. He knew, damn him, how much Jim loved to watch him touch himself like this. He leaned back, pressing his wide shoulders into the surface of the boulder and released his grip on Jim's neck.
Now both hands were at his groin, fingers closed around his shaft, fisting his cock roughly; his breath coming faster, harder. Pre-cum welled up in the slit, spilling over the strong fingers, gleaming on the swollen purple-brown flesh. Jim continued to thrust, almost mechanically, as he watched the movement of Blair's hands, the flexing of his wrists. Harsh gasps shook the sturdy body, and Jim swallowed to ease the dryness of his throat. It wouldn't be long now.
Sure enough, every muscle in Blair's body tensed. He groaned deep in his throat and his fingers clenched on his cock as it began to pulse, drenching them both with thick, pearly strands of semen. Blair's whole body seemed to spasm, and his channel clenched impossibly tight around Jim's cock. Jim sobbed and shuddered, not daring to allow himself his own release until Blair groaned in relief and slumped back almost bonelessly against the boulder.
Then, at last, he could let go, his body pressed so close against Blair's that neither of them could breathe. It didn't matter... breathing was so overrated - he could almost hear Blair's voice saying it. Jim felt the control he'd exercised ebb away beneath the floodtide of his need. He shouted into Blair's sweaty throat as the orgasm forced its way out through his cock and flooded the inner passage of his lover. Again and again, with each agonizing throb of sensation, until Jim's throat felt raw, and his body so impossibly sensitized that even the air brushing his skin felt like sandpaper.
Luckily, that sensation didn't last. As his cock softened and slipped free, Jim lifted his head to stare groggily into Blair's eyes. "You realize I could easily have dropped you."
"But you didn't."
Jim ignored him. "And if you haven't rubbed your shoulders raw, it's a fucking miracle."
"You're the fucking miracle, Jim." Blair grinned unrepentantly, unwinding his legs from around Jim's hips, but cautiously keeping a firm grip on his shoulders. His knees promptly buckled, but Jim's arm was around his waist and he only swayed in place.
They stayed where they were, leaning against the boulder until their breathing returned to something approaching normal. Jim gave him a final, lingering kiss and stepped back, tucking his cock back into his jeans with a grimace of distaste for the stickiness. He consoled himself with the thought that he probably wouldn't be wearing them for much longer, if Sandburg had his way.
He was happily confident that Sandburg would have his way. He always did.
"Hey, Jim." There was a speculative tone to Blair's voice that made his cock twitch expectantly. "Have you ever thought of wearing those waders with nothing underneath?"
Jim turned a quelling eye on his lover, who was wearing an anticipatory grin that wouldn't have been out of place on the Cheshire Cat. "I can honestly say I never have."
Something told him he'd be back here in the not too distant future, bare-assed in his waders, fishing in the Sandburg Zone.