ATONEMENT
Spoilers: Minor ones for Brother’s KeeperCategory: Discipline, G-rated slash
Disclaimer: Of course they’re not mine: if they were, they’d still be on! They belong to Pet Fly, not to me, and I’m making no money.
Special thanks to Virginia for catching all the little things I miss!
Blair watched miserably as his best friend and lover stood on the balcony, staring moodily out at the darkening city. From time to time, Jim would sip his beer, though Blair could tell he was not really tasting it. Jim had been quiet for most of the evening, and though Blair knew he was the cause of the older man’s melancholy, he was at a loss as to how to fix it.He knew deep down that Jim was not trying to punish him with his silence. But years of conditioning had convinced Jim Ellison that problems and turmoils of the heart were best dealt with *inside* his heart, and all of Blair’s gentle urgings and not-so-gentle pressuring had never broken him of the habit.
Blair sighed deeply, aware that his own heart felt heavy and sad. He and Jim had argued before—in fact, they’d raised the roof a few times in their tumultuous months together, but in all those other times, Blair had been fueled by his own sense of righteous indignation. He might later apologize for hurtful behavior or words said in anger, but never for his opposing views. This time, that confidence in his own viewpoint was sadly lacking. He’d been wrong and deliberately deceitful to his lover, and no apology or admission of guilt could totally erase that.
It had all started so simply…
A call from his old friend Rob, with an invitation to join him at a club on Thursday for drinks and catching up. Blair had jumped eagerly at the offer, anxious to hear the latest on some of his friends from his undergrad days. Jim was working late anyway, and was more than happy that Blair wouldn’t be lonely. His only request was that Blair not make too late an evening of it—Jim had been on stake-out for several of the previous nights, and even exhausted, he could never really get to sleep until Blair was safely home.
Since the Volvo was on the fritz once again, Rob had offered to pick Blair up and be his chauffeur for the evening. Once at the club, they were joined by several other old friends, and they were soon having an impromptu reunion. With all the drinking and reminiscing, the time got away from them, and when Blair finally—and rather blearily--looked at his watch, he found it was well after midnight. He winced, realizing that Jim must be worried, and surprised that the older man hadn’t called to check up on him. A quick glance at his dead cell phone explained that, and he jumped to find a pay phone, only to be pulled back by his friends. He was embarrassed when they teased him about having a curfew, so he allowed them to convince him to take the party to another bar they knew. Before he realized it, they were out of the club, and he was walking none too steadily toward Rob’s car, promising himself he’d call Jim the minute they got to the new place. He was dimly aware that Rob was not much more sober than he was, and that his short-haired, and even shorter tempered lover was likely to find his actions ill-advised, but the alcohol coursing through his small frame managed to dull the edges of any rational thought.
He sobered up rather quickly when flashing lights pulled them over just a short way down the road. Rob was given an immediate Breathalyzer test and found to be driving impaired—not quite as serious as driving under the influence, but serious enough to guarantee that Blair would never hear the end of it from a certain over-protective Sentinel if he ever caught wind of it. Fortunately, the arresting officer was from a station on the other side of town, and had no way of knowing of Blair’s involvement with the central Cascade PD. Blair was taken to the station with Rob, and ended up waiting for what seemed like hours while Rob was charged and then released on his own recognizance. He didn’t dare attempt to call Jim from one of the station phones, knowing that the Sentinel’s hearing would immediately identify both his location and slightly inebriated state, so he paced impatiently, trying to stay inconspicuous and avoid anyone he might know.
By the time the paperwork was finally finished, it was too late to even contemplate returning to the loft. Blair decided to crash at Rob’s apartment for what remained of the night. He knew Jim must be frantic by now, and he finally felt sober enough to call, which he did as soon as they got home. As expected, Jim answered on the first ring, his voice panicked. Blair apologized profusely, and then made a quick and not very believable (even to his own ears) excuse about having carried the party over to Rob’s apartment and then falling asleep on the sofa. Jim’s manner was decidedly cool, but he agreed that it made little sense for his guide to come home at that late hour. Blair promised to return home first thing in the morning, already feeling the sharp pang of guilt that came from lying to his partner.
He slept poorly for a few hours on Rob’s sofa, taking slight comfort in the fact that at least that made one small part of his story true. He awakened before dawn, anxious to get home before Jim left for work. Leaving Rob a note, he grabbed a bus, knowing his friend would probably not awaken in the best mood after his difficult night and would appreciate not having to immediately run Blair home. While Blair rode, he pondered the situation, and by the time the bus stopped near the loft, he was determined to confess all, and simply endure the blistering lecture he knew he deserved and had coming.
But Jim was awake when he arrived, and so happy to see him and understanding about him losing track of time that Blair decided not to rock the boat with an ill-timed confession. Instead, they enjoyed an infinitely more pleasurable reunion, and then went happily off in their separate ways for work, agreeing to meet later at the station. Blair felt a twinge of guilt about the deceit, but convinced himself that what Jim didn’t know couldn’t hurt either of them.
And everything might have remained all right between Sentinel and guide, if only the infamous Sandburg luck hadn’t decided to appear right on schedule.
The instant Blair walked into the bullpen later that afternoon, he could feel the tension radiating from his lover. Jim’s greeting was stiff, and his eyes held no warmth when he looked at his young partner. Blair felt a tremor of fear—everything had been fine between the two of them that morning—what could have possibly changed? At his puzzled look, Jim merely pushed a few stapled papers toward him and returned his attention to his computer screen. Blair picked them up nervously, noting it was a faxed transmission. He tensed when he realized it was from the same station his friend had been booked the night before. He immediately recognized it as Rob’s arrest report. And in clear print, right on page two, was his own name.
Jim spoke without looking up from his work. “When you were so late last night Chief, I got scared and started calling around to a few of my friends at other police stations to make sure no one had received an accident report on you. It never occurred to me to ask them to check the arrest records, but someone must have spotted your name on that and knew I’d been asking about you. This was waiting for me when I came in this morning.”
Jim’s cold, matter-of-fact tone chilled Blair to the bone. The older man was obviously both hurt and furious, but determined not to let it show. “Oh, God, Jim, I’m sorry—I swear, I never meant to lie to you!”, Blair said beseechingly, dropping his backpack and moving as close to his lover as he could.
Jim merely pushed back from the desk and grabbed a file from the top of a large stack. “Guess you had your reasons, Chief,” he said indifferently. “I’ve got to run these down to records. Look over the Corson case, will you, and make sure I didn’t forget anything.” Jim brushed by the younger man, being careful not to touch him. Blair grabbed his arm as he passed, but released it at his lover’s cold glare.
“Please, Jim, please, let me explain!”
Jim’s face was like stone. “I think it’s pretty self-explanatory. You got yourself into a mess, and decided you’d rather I not find out, so you lied about it. I just thought we meant more to each other than that.” And with that, he turned his back on Blair’s stricken face, leaving the younger man staring helplessly after him.
For the remainder of the afternoon, the two men had worked almost silently, side by side but never touching. Blair tried several more times to apologize, but since he had no real excuse for his behavior, the words seemed hollow and trite, and he could tell they weren’t having the desired effect.
By the time they headed home, the chill was so thick between them that even the simplest conversation was excruciating. Dinner was an awkward affair, as each attempt of Blair’s at anything resembling his normal chatter was met with cool indifference. After dinner, Blair jumped to do the dishes, anxious to show Jim in any way how sorry he was.
Jim didn’t even seem to notice. He left his mostly untouched plate on the counter, grabbed a beer, and headed outside, leaving Blair alone with his thoughts and self- recriminations.
Blair cleaned the kitchen and then grabbed a beer for himself and stared out at his lover, wishing he could find a way to erase the past 24 hours. He knew he could apologize until he was blue in the face, but words simply were not enough in this case.
His mind wandered back to other times in his life when he had done something he’d been truly ashamed of. It made him feel a little bit better when he realized there weren’t really that many to speak of—just kid’s stuff mostly, including his memorable (and thankfully short-lived) career as a shop-lifter.
He smiled ruefully when he remembered Naomi’s reaction to the realization that her perfect baby boy had actually stolen something. She had backed him up so completely when he was arrested, insisting that the store owner must be mistaken about the microscope, accusing the poor man of being prejudiced against hippies, and other more colorful things, until Blair finally couldn’t stand the guilt and confessed. The look on her face was one he’d never forget.
Shock, disappointment, hurt—with a start, he realized the expression was exactly the one Jim had been wearing this afternoon in the bullpen.
But, in typical Naomi fashion, she had told him he’d have to find a way to fix the problem himself, and then she’d gone off to meditate about it. Seeing Blair’s true remorse, the store owner had decided not to press charges, but he’d ended up working in Mr. Caterra’s store every day after school for 6 months to pay for the microscope. In the long run, that had been infinitely easier than dealing with Naomi’s hurt and puzzled looks for weeks afterwards. She never punished him, or even mentioned it again, but her disappointment in his actions was palpable, and for the first time in their lives together, there was a distance between them .
He knew with a certainty he didn’t want that to happen with him and Jim. He just couldn’t spend the next few weeks seeing the same look on Jim’s face that he remembered on Naomi’s, and feeling a tension between them every time they were together. That would be worse than any punishment he could imagine. He needed something, anything, that would prove to Jim how sorry he was.
Which brought him to the course of action he was now contemplating.
Making his decision, he steeled his resolve, grabbing an item from the kitchen and walking resolutely towards the balcony doors. Of course, Jim’s hearing picked up on his presence long before he approached the older man’s side, but he didn’t turn.
Blair stood quietly at his shoulder, willing his heart to slow down. He’d never convince Jim of the necessity of this action if his partner believed he was terrified.
“Jim? Can we talk a minute?,” he began hesitantly.
Jim turned to him, his face unreadable. “Sure, Chief. What’s on your mind?”
“Look, I know you’re upset with me,” he began, and continued talking even though Jim made an attempt to cut him off. “Let me finish, OK?” Jim nodded curtly.
“I had no business lying to you last night, and I want you to know I’m sorry.”This time, Jim did cut in. “Blair, we’ve already been through this. You said you were sorry, and I believe you. It was just a shock, you know? I never thought I’d have any reason to doubt your honesty. I guess it just makes me wonder if you’ll lie about other things just to avoid a problem.”
Blair winced at the flat tone. “Oh, God, Jim—please don’t doubt that! I love you! I just made a foolish mistake—I didn’t want you to be angry, and I was so muddle headed, I thought an innocent little white lie would make things easier. I was wrong.” He took another deep breath, trying to find his courage. “I was wrong, and I deserve to be punished,” he finished finally, pulling the wooden spoon he had grabbed from the kitchen jar out from behind his back.
Jim’s eyes were puzzled at first and then they widened when he realized what Blair was suggesting. He grabbed the spoon out of the younger man’s hands and glared at him.
“Blair, is this some kind of joke to distract me? Cause if it is, I’d have to say your timing really sucks.”“No, Jim. It’s not a joke,” the younger man said solemnly.
Jim stared at him, seeing his guide was quite serious. “Are you crazy? You want me to use that on you as punishment? Where did you ever get such a nutty notion?”, he bit out angrily.
Blair laughed nervously. “Jim, millions of parents have used it on their children—it’s not such a crazy idea.”
“Well, maybe so, but I think you’re missing the operative word here, Chief : children. You’re not a child.”
Blair sighed, running a hand through his curls. “Jim, look, let me explain, OK? This isn’t some idle thought, or peace offering to get you to forgive me. I screwed up, and I know it and I want to make it right. Not just for you, but for me.”
Jim seemed confused. “Make it right? But Blair, I don’t expect this from you. It’s not what we’re about.”
Blair tugged on his arm, guiding him to the two chairs set on the small balcony. “Jim, just sit here and listen a minute, OK?”, he said, perching himself precariously on the edge of the opposite one.
Jim sat slowly, giving Blair a wary look. “All right, Chief. What?”
Blair immediately bounced back up and began to pace, trying to find the words that would help his Sentinel understand. Finally he decided to just start at the beginning. “Jim, you know that I started at Rainier when I was 16, right? Well, in order to be able to do that, I had to complete all my required high school courses first. That year, an opportunity came up for Naomi to go to Tibet and possibly have an audience with the Dalai Lama. It was something she’d always dreamed about, but taking the trip would have meant pulling me out of school, and she knew how much I wanted to start at Rainier. We were both torn, until her brother, my Uncle David, offered to let me live with him and his family and finish out the year at Cascade High. He and my Aunt Laura had two kids of their own, and he told Naomi they’d be happy to have me with them.”
Jim shook his head, impatient with Blair’s long-winded explanation. “Sounds like the perfect solution, but you’re losing me here, Chief. What does all this have to do with…that,” he said, pointing to the spoon he had dropped on the table in disgust.
“I’m getting to that. You see, David and Naomi might be brother and sister, but they are about as different as chalk and cheese. David is strictly a conformist…just about as mainstream, Middle America as you can get. He was more than willing to take me in, with the stipulation that if I lived with them, I lived under their rules. I was willing to do anything to make it work, because I knew how much traveling to Tibet meant to Naomi, but living by their rules meant I’d be subject to corporal punishment-- just like his own kids.”
“Corporal punishment? As a teenager!? Boy, I can just imagine Naomi didn’t like that,” Jim said, surprised.
Blair shuddered. “Didn’t like it is an understatement, man. You know how she is. She and David are amazingly close, but they argued all the time about their child-raising philosophies. Both were convinced that their way was right, and neither one would budge an inch. Talk about your opposites! Naomi never even swatted my butt once, and Uncle David was pretty strict.”
“So what happened, Chief?”
“Well, it took some doing, but I finally convinced my mom that I really wanted to stay in Cascade, even if it meant that I might be in trouble with my uncle occasionally.”
Jim considered this for a minute, and then asked, his voice halting, “Chief, were your aunt and uncle… abusive?”
Blair looked horrified. “Oh, God, Jim, no! Naomi would never have even considered leaving me if that were the case. My aunt and uncle are wonderful, loving parents. They just believe that it is a parent’s job to provide discipline and structure to a child’s life, where as Naomi believes that children should find their own rules to live by.” He shook his head and paced, trying to find the words to make his lover understand. “There was as much difference between one of my uncle’s spankings and abuse as there is between making love and a rape. He was always calm and in control, even when you knew he was really angry. Most of the time, he didn’t even resort to spanking. That was saved for only the worst offenses. And even then, you always knew he loved you.”
“God, Blair, it still must have been hard for you”, Jim said, imagining his free and easy partner in such a restrictive environment. He caught Blair’s hand to slow him and pulled him close.
Blair shrugged. “Well, the rules did take quite a bit of getting used to. Naomi and I used to just eat whenever we got hungry, and I never had a bed time. All that changed right away. Aunt Laura expected everyone to come to the table on time, and on school nights, even though I was 15, the rule was in bed with lights out by 10:00.”
Jim grinned at that. The only times Blair made it to bed anywhere near ten were when he was sick—or when they were there together. But he immediately sobered when he thought of Blair being punished.
“Was it awful, Chief?”, he asked gently.
Blair smiled at him, and finally sat down in the chair across from him. “No, Jim, it wasn’t. I won’t pretend that I loved all the rules, and my cousins and I did spend more time than I would have liked in my uncle’s study, but remembering back, it was really kind of nice.”
“Nice?” Jim seemed stunned by that admission.
Blair nodded. “Jim, I had a ball growing up with Naomi. Seeing the world, all the different types of people in it. But it was also hard, you know? She never scolded or punished me for anything. I pretty much made all my own decisions, and that’s fun, but it can also get kind of tiring after a while. When you’re a kid, it can be a little scary to feel in charge of your own life all the time.”
Jim considered Blair’s words. He hadn’t been ‘in charge’ of his own life until adulthood. First his father had regulated every aspect of his life, and then the military had. Thinking back on himself as a teenager, he realized that there had been a certain comfort in knowing there were things you just didn’t have to worry about—things that were out of your control.
“But, Chief, why do you want this now—with us?,” he asked, still trying to understand Blair’s sudden desire to be punished. “Is this some hidden kink I’m just finding out about now?,” he said, striving for a teasing voice.
Blair smiled slightly, but shook his head. “No, Jim, it’s not a game, and I can’t say I really want it, ‘cause I know I won’t enjoy it. But the one thing I remember most clearly about Uncle David’s punishments is the way they cleared the air. Once you paid the price for something, it was over. And I was never punished when I didn’t deserve it.”
“And you think you deserve it now,” Jim said flatly, more of a statement than a question.
“Yeah, I do. And if you think about it, you’ll agree with me.”
“I don’t want to hurt you, Blair. I love you,” Jim said softly.
“I love you too, big guy. But what I did last night was wrong, and hurtful to our relationship, and I won’t rest easy until I’ve paid for that. Or at least until my butt has,” he teased ruefully. Then he spoke more seriously. “Trust me, Jim—the one thing I learned during those months with my aunt and uncle is that being punished when you’ve done something wrong really is easier than feeling guilty about it forever.”
Jim mulled that over for several long moments. Blair fidgeted impatiently, trying to give Jim time to think things over, but he finally decided to add one further argument.
“Jim, let me ask you one question. Haven’t you ever, in all the time we’ve spent together, thought I deserved a good swat across the rear end?”
To his surprise, the older man answered immediately. “Just about every day, Chief,” he laughed. “And I’d be willing to bet that Simon’s fought the urge more than a few times too, especially when you pushed your way into some of those early cases.” He stared at Blair steadily, becoming serious once again. “But, Blair, what you’re talking about is more than just a swat. If I do this, I’m going to do it for real—not just as a token apology. I’d be lying if I said you didn’t deserve to be punished--I just never considered something like this.”
“Well, if you can come up with something else, I’m all ears, but I really think this is the best way for us both to get past this,” Blair said determinedly. He settled back into the chair, expecting Jim to spend some more time thinking the situation over, so he was startled when the older man took him firmly by the arm and stood. He was sure his heart rate jumped into the stratosphere when the Sentinel then grabbed the wooden spoon off the table.
“All right, Chief. I think maybe you’re right. Now, let’s get inside so we don’t give the neighbors any more to talk about.”
Blair gulped audibly. He had been so intent on persuading his lover, he hadn’t thought any further than that.
“Gee, Jim, what convinced you?”, he asked weakly as he was purposefully escorted back into the loft.“You did, Blair. You really messed up last night, and you cost me a few hairs I can ill-afford to lose. If that doesn’t deserve a good spanking, I don’t know what does,” the older man answered, his voice taut with determination.
Now that Blair was facing the reality of being punished, the idea seemed distinctly less appealing. Unfortunately, as he grew less sure of this course of action, Jim seemed to grow more resolute.
“Ah, Jim, I really am sorry. I swear, I won’t do anything like that again,” Blair said fervently, trying to slow their forward momentum.
“Good!”, Jim said with a curt nod, but he continued pulling his young lover along until they were near the couch. He sat down, and stared up at Blair.
“Jeans down, Junior. If we’re going to do this at all, we’re going to do it right.”Blair hadn’t consider this possibility. “Aww, c’mon, Jim. No way!”
“This was your idea, Blair, and you have no one to blame but yourself if you don’t like the way I’m handling it. I admit that I was a little skeptical at first, but there’s no question in my mind that what you did was stupid, dangerous, and deceitful. If I had been caught getting in the car with someone who’d been drinking when I was a teenager, my dad would have blistered my butt good. You know your behavior last night was way out of bounds, and that’s why you want me to call you on it. ‘Paying the price’ you said, remember?”
Blair winced when he heard his own words parroted back at him. He *had* used them to convince his lover, and he had meant them at the time. But suddenly the memory of the punishments he had faced at his uncle’s hands came into sharp focus and his stomach churned. Jim never did anything by half-measures. It was one of the things he admired most about him, but he realized that it meant the next few minutes were likely to be some of the most unpleasant he had ever spent with his partner.
Unpleasant, but not undeserved, he reminded himself as he slowly moved his hand to the snap on his jeans. Once the snap was undone, he lowered the zipper, his hands now so unsteady he could barely move the metal down.
“You know, Jim,” he said shakily, trying for a light tone, “my uncle used to ground me sometimes for misbehaving. Maybe we could go with that for a first offense…”, he finished hopefully.
“Good idea, Blair,” Jim said, causing Blair’s heart to soar—until he added a moment later--“we’ll talk about that after your spanking. Maybe a few nights confined to the loft will reinforce the message.”
Blair’s shoulders slumped as he resignedly pushed his jeans down, leaving his boxers in place. He trembled as Jim guided him over his lap, turning him so his torso rested on the couch. He tensed even more when Jim reached for the spoon.
“You know why you’re being punished, so I guess we don’t have to go over it again,” Jim said seriously, resting the spoon against Blair’s butt. Blair could feel the hardness of it through the cotton of his underwear and it made him tremble. He flinched when it suddenly lifted, and let out a startled yelp when it landed a moment later. Uncle David had always used a small paddle, and Blair had mistakenly thought that the spoon might be marginally less painful. Several more swats convinced him he was wrong.
“OOOWW!,” he yelled, when one swat landed right on the crease between bottom and thigh. “Jim, that hurts!!”
“Good. I warned you it would,” Jim said firmly, continuing his assault on a new spot.
Blair yelped again, dismayed to realize that tears were beginning to fall onto the sofa cushions from his streaming face. “Really, Jim—I swear, I’ve learned my lesson! You can stop now!”, he begged pitifully.
“You know, Chief,” Jim continued conversationally, as though he hadn’t even heard his lover’s murmured plea, “I never thought a wooden spoon could be so effective. My dad always used a belt, and I don’t think my mom ever used anything but her hand.”
Blair’s only response was to bury his face further into the cushions and cry. Jim was taking this whole thing a little too well—for all his protests at the start, he certainly seemed to be enthusiastic enough in his delivery.
Finally, the punishing blows stopped, and Blair managed a gasping sob of relief—until he felt his boxers being tugged down over his now-swollen cheeks. “What are you doing??”, he shrieked, trying to pull himself up.
Jim kept one hand firmly in the middle of his back as he tossed the spoon aside. “That spanking was for being idiotic enough to get into a car with someone who’d been drinking,” he said sternly. “After all the time you’ve spent with the police, seeing what the aftermath of drinking and driving can be, I can’t believe you’d be so foolish. But the rest of this punishment is for the damage you could have done to our relationship, so it’s going to be more personal--just my hand on your bare butt. I don’t ever want you to lie to me again, Chief,” he growled, and Blair howled when Jim punctuated that statement with several firm smacks on his already glowing flesh.
“No!! Never!!”, Blair screeched, biting his lip at the sting. Why had he ever suggested such a stupid thing? Why couldn’t he have just endured a few weeks of the silent treatment?
Jim continued, unrelenting, until Blair was sure he’d never sit again. He gasped and squirmed, barely noticing when Jim’s hand on his backside slowly changed from swats to caresses.
“Jii--imm!”, he hiccuped, finally realizing that the punishment was over. “Th-that was awful!”
“Your idea, Chief,” Jim reminded softly, pulling Blair further back on the couch with him.
“Re-remind me never to open my mouth again.”
Jim chuckled at that, gently turning Blair on his side so he was cradled in his arms. “It’ll never happen, buddy,” he said, brushing the sweaty strands of hair out of Blair’s face. Blair didn’t reply; he simply pushed himself further into his lover’s embrace and tried to ignore the constant throbbing in his bottom. They lay like that for a few moments, and then Jim carefully slid out from under Blair’s limp form, turning the younger man onto his stomach as he stood. He gently draped the afghan from the back of the couch over him.
Blair rested his chin on his hands and looked up at him. “Are we okay now?”, he asked the older man simply.
Jim quickly knelt back down and took Blair’s face in his hands. “Blair, we would have been okay no matter what. But I will admit, this did clear the air a bit. You were wrong, you were punished, and it’s over.”
“Then it was worth it—I think,” Blair replied, reaching back to gently touch his flaming rear end through the blanket, and hissing at the contact. “So, now we can burn that damn spoon, right?”
Jim picked up the offending object. “Oh, I don’t know, Chief,” he pretended to muse. “It’s possible one of us might screw up again, and we might need it.”
Blair picked his head up, surprised at Jim’s answer. “US? Do you mean you’d let me do this to you?”
Jim looked at him, his face serious. “If I ever screwed up in such a way, then yes, I think I would, Blair. Not that I’m ever planning to, mind you. Besides,” he continued, his eyes now twinkling, “your mother gave you this spoon—remember? It’s from that set of olive wood utensils she brought back from the Holy Land, and I don’t think she’d appreciate you turning it to ashes.”
Blair dropped his head back on his hands. “Why’d I have to pick that one?”, he moaned. “It’s my favorite for making stir-fry, and now I’ll never be able to cook with it again. Guess we’ll be eating out for the foreseeable future.”
“Speaking of the foreseeable future, Chief,” Jim said, pulling himself up and trying to look stern. “we need to discuss that little matter you brought up earlier.”
“What matter?,” Blair asked nervously.
“About being grounded for getting into trouble. I think your uncle had the right idea, so for the next week I’m sentencing you to house arrest.”
“Jim!,” Blair yelled, jumping up and then regretting the movement. “That’s not fair! I was only joking. And besides,” he continued, rubbing his sore rear end gently, “I’ve been punished enough!”
“Oh, really? I’m sorry to hear that you think spending time alone with your lover is punishment. I was thinking it might be kind of nice to have you all to myself for the next few nights, but if you have other plans…” Jim let his words trail off expectantly, waiting for Blair to realize what he was proposing.
Blair’s face lost the pout almost instantly. “All to yourself? You mean, you’d be here too? That kind of punishment I can live with!”, he grinned.
“Glad to hear it, Chief. And now I’m going to reheat the leftovers from dinner. All this hard work brought my appetite back.”
“Gee, I’m happy for you,” Blair remarked sourly, though he was secretly pleased at his partner’s restored good humor. Jim just ruffled his curls and started for the kitchen.
“Do you want anything, Chief?”, he called over his shoulder.
“Not if I have to sit at the table to eat it,” Blair replied, only half-joking.
“Tell you what,” Jim replied, taking the food containers out of the refrigerator. “How about, just for tonight, we suspend house rule number 324, and have a picnic in the living room?”
“A picnic? Oooh, a real walk on the wild side for you,” Blair teased. At his lover’s mock frown, he quickly added ,“Sounds just fine to me.”
He settled back down on the cushions to watch his lover cook, thinking about the evening and all that had transpired. And he smiled when he realized that in spite of his discomfort, for the first time that night, things really were ‘just fine’.
THE END