Home of Greg Sanders Slash Fiction
by Buffyangel68
11:30 THAT MORNING: JIM AND BLAIR'S HOTEL:
Quietly, Jim padded around the room, storing things in the dresser and night table. They had both been far too tired the night before to even think about unpacking, so he was handling that task now while Blair washed up. He smiled as he moved back and forth, liking the soft swish of socks on carpet. He never wore shoes in a hotel room, and had at one time disdained wearing anything on his feet at all, but a health lecture from his lover had convinced him to compromise on socks. Once he was done with his own luggage, he started on Blair's, knowing full well by now how the younger man preferred things to be put away. All the while he had an ear trained on the bathroom, wanting to time the arrival of their room service breakfast just right.
When heard the water shut off, Jim phoned the order in and moved to clear the small table by the window of pamphlets, menus and other paperwork. Several minutes later, Blair emerged in his hotel robe, vigorously toweling his long dark hair dry. As he approached, Jim sat down and positioned one of the other straight-back chairs close to him, but facing away. Surrendering the towel to his partner, Blair dropped into the second chair and held a comb over his shoulder. Jim accepted it then draped the towel down Blair's back, gently lifting his hair out from underneath. He knew from experience how much extra moisture would be released as he worked and he preferred not to make more mess than was necessary. As they talked the older man progressively worked the comb through his lover's mahogany locks.
"You know... I don't think you've ever told me why you do this for me. One day you just pointed at a chair and... started combing."
"You complaining, Chief?"
"No... just curious, I guess."
"It's... soothing. It relaxes me. Besides, I know how good it makes you feel."
"Mmmm... it does. Where did you ever get so good at it, though?"
"Carolyn." Jim stated simply, naming his former wife. The men didn't talk about her very often as Ellison had carried little joy and a great deal of pain and confusion away from the marriage. Normally, Blair would drop any subject when her name came up, but this time he pushed slightly, sensing this might be a good memory.
"She had short hair, didn't she? Not much room for tangles."
"She cut it not long after we split. It used to be past her shoulders. She was swearing and ripping it out with a brush one morning... tears running down her face. I never could stand to see her hurting like that, so I made her stop. I sat her down an' took a comb, worked through all the knots slow and easy. By the time I was done she'd stopped crying and was vowing to burn her hairbrush. After that, I always combed it out for her."
"Oh, yeah... I remember now. I ran out of my conditioner that first day. I was ready to take a pair of garden shears and give myself a home buzz cut..."
"I never would have let you. I love your hair way too much to ever stand by and watch you butcher it."
Finished, Jim stood and removed the towel. Blair bent his head back and grinned, his now smooth, shiny curls swinging freely.
"Thank you."
"No problem, love." Jim replied, bending to drop a swift kiss on the other man's welcoming mouth. He'd just returned from replacing the towel in the bathroom when room service knocked on the door. As Jim let the waiter in, he caught Blair heading for the phone out of the corner of one eye. "Not before breakfast, Chief."
"Jim..."
"Neither of us has eaten since about ten o'clock last night. It can wait." Ellison reminded him as he signed the bill and began to set the table. Blair pouted slightly, still standing by the phone, until the waiter was gone again, but eventually he walked back to the table and sat down. The enticing aroma of the food woke up his appetite and sidelined his worries about his cousin for the moment.
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ONE HOUR LATER:
As they stood side by side at the sink, one washing the dishes and one drying, Nick was privately reveling in how comfortable and right it felt. In the past, he'd run from so-called "domestic bliss" every time there was even a chance his relationship-of-the-week might bring it up. He avoided situations like dishes and mutual house-cleaning, preferring escape to being trapped into saying what he was really feeling; that if they were getting anywhere near intimacy or, God forbid, sex, he would be gone as if he were never there, with sincere apologies, but no explanation. He'd left behind more bewildered, hurting women than he cared to remember.
Draping the dishtowel over the oven door handle to dry, Nick carefully approached the thought that this time he couldn't do that kind of disappearing act. This time, the other half of his potential love match already had the explanation, and no apologies would ever be good enough if the former Texan decided he couldn't cope and ran away once again. To his surprise, as he probed around the edges of the concepts that had always terrified him before, he found no urge to pack a bag and flee to the darkest corner of the nearest bar. Commitment, love, even allowing all the horrors of his past to be excavated in Greg's presence didn't come close to fazing him like he'd anticipated. The issues of intimacy and sex brought the fear much closer, but knowing that the other man had his own distance to travel down that road made it that much easier for Nick to at least think about.
Lost in his thoughts, staring at the oven door as if he were waiting for a genie to appear, Nick never heard Greg coming up behind him. He was shocked rudely out of his contemplations a moment later when the residual water from the dish sponge cascaded over his face and neck. Laughing and spluttering, he turned just in time to see Greg toss the sponge into the sink and make his escape.
"You underhanded little brat... get back here!"
Nick was moments away from going after Greg and dumping him into a running shower clothes and all when the phone rang and he forestalled his revenge.
"I'll get you back later, little man. The longer I have to think about it the sweeter it'll be anyway!" Nick shouted joyfully as he picked up the phone. "Hello?"
"Hi.... is Greg Sanders there?"
"Who's askin' ?" Nick replied cautiously.
"This is his cousin, Blair Sandburg."
"Hey, good to hear from you. I was waitin' on a return e-mail."
"Yeah, well... I can be impulsive. Is he there?"
"Right now he can't be anywhere else."
"I don't understand..."
"He hasn't left the apartment since he got outta the hospital. It's not that big a deal. He'll work through it. He's just not ready yet."
"Right. I know what that's like... Can I talk to him?"
"I would, but his voice still isn't back to phone volume."
"What? What about his voice? Your message didn't say anything about his voice."
"It should have, I know. I just wanted to give you the basics of what happened and make sure you knew Greg's alright."
"Forget it. Give me your address. I'm coming over there."
"From Washington State?"
"No, we're at a hotel on the strip. We got in early this morning."
"We?"
"My partner's with me. Address?"
"Hang on a minute here..."
Abruptly Blair's voice faded into the background. A few seconds of arguing followed his retreat before a new, much deeper voice took over the call.
"Hi. Jim Ellison. I'm Blair's partner at Cascade PD."
"Nick Stokes, LVPD crime lab."
"Crime lab... Is everything okay?"
"Yeah. Greg an' I work together. I'm watchin' over him 'till he gets back on his feet."
"That's a relief. Look, I apologize for Blair. You have to understand he's done nothing but worry since he got that e-mail about his cousin. He wasn't trying to freak you out."
"It's cool. I get it, man. It's just that Greg's defenses are still pretty low. I'd rather growl an' offend somebody than take a chance on him gettin' hurt again."
"I know the feeling, trust me. If Blair could see for himself that the kid's really alright, though, it'd make him a lot easier to live with..."
"Oh yeah. C'mon ahead. I'm sure it'll do Greg a lotta good too." Nick recited the address and directions and Jim jotted them on the notepad by the phone.
"Great. We'll be there in... about an hour."
"Lookin' forward to it. I'll let Greg know you're on your way."
"Thanks. See you soon."
"Okay. Bye. Greg! Boy have I got a surprise for you."
"Yeah, I'll bet."
"I told you, I'm gonna think on my revenge. Now get on out here. We got visitors comin'."
Wary, Greg peeked around the door frame of his bedroom, fully appearing only when he was sure Nick didn't have a fully loaded Super Soaker or the kitchen sink sprayer in hand.
"Who?"
"That was your cousin on the phone. He an' his partner flew in from Washington last night. They're comin' over in an hour."
"Blair? And Jim? God, we never should've... sent that e-mail. I knew he'd... flip out."
"So he worries. One more person to care about you ain't exactly a bad thing."
"Caring would be fine... but Blair's turned nagging... into an extreme sport."
"Then him gettin' to see you face to face is the best thing, right? Once he sees you're not halfway to the pearly gates, he'll calm down an' you guys can enjoy bein' together."
"Maybe. I've never met... Jim. I feel like I... know him from Blair's... letters and e-mails, though. He sounds like.. a great guy."
"Yeah? Hope so. He sounded solid on the phone." Nick replied, swiping moisture off his face and flicking it at Greg, who grinned and stuck out his tongue. Nick pushed him gently in the center of the forehead in response, walked to the bag of clothes he'd stored behind the sofa, crouched and searched through it for a dry shirt. Rising to his full height, he looked at Greg thoughtfully. "I've got a turtle-neck somewhere in here. It'd be big on you, but if you wanna borrow it... you know, less questions."
"The first word out of... my mouth he'll know... something's up. Thanks anyway."
Nick grimaced, but decided to confess.
"He kinda does anyhow."
"Kind of? What did you... say to him?"
"He wanted me to get you on the phone. All I said was your voice wasn't up to that yet... I forgot we decided not to tell him about the second attack."
"How bad?"
"He didn't yell, He got a little wound up, but he didn't yell."
"Wound up. Great. When he sees the bruises... he won't let me... out of his sight."
"I'm really sorry, Greggo..."
"No. It's okay. When he starts the... lecture on health food... I'll just lock myself... in the bathroom." He responded with a mildly queasy smile.
Nick choked back a laugh and headed for the bedroom to change.
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45 MINUTES LATER
Carefully, Jim pulled a newly retrieved rental car into a space a few yards from Greg's apartment. As he shut down the engine and extricated the keys, he watched Blair pull his hair back into his usual ponytail and winced slightly.
"You know, if you didn't do that with it all the time, you might have an easier time getting it smooth after you wash it."
"If I didn't do this... I'd be eating hair with every meal... and I'd be blind every time the wind kicked up." He replied as he finished the process of securing his dark curls. "Besides, we don't have enough time together outside of work as it is. While you comb out my hair we get to talk and really connect. I value that like I value you." he concluded, kissing Jim lingeringly. Ellison longed to deepen the kiss, even entertaining thoughts of dragging his lover into the back seat for a quickie, but he reluctantly pulled away, running a thumb slowly over Blair's cheekbone and hoping his regret showed in his eyes.
"Love you too, Chief. More than anything."
"Wish we had time for you to show me how much..."
"Later, I promise. Right now your cousin's waitin' on us. From everything you've told me, I'm almost as anxious to meet him as you are. He sounds like a pretty down to earth guy."
"That's the impression I got from his letters and instant messages. He also loves rock and roll and he's got a wicked sense of humor." Blair elaborated as he got out of the car, stretched and moved around to the driver's side to join his partner. " I really think you'll like him."
"I'd say the chances are pretty good. C'mon."
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TBC.....
