***

March

It never entered my mind.

--Miles Davis

***

The Amazing Disappearing Sandburg. That’s what I’ve taken to calling Blair. There’s a new girl in his life this week, and he’s spending all his free time with her. Hell, he’s even spending my time with her. He’s in there right now getting ready to go out. Shit, I don’t even know her name.

I hear him singing to himself, some sappy lyrics to a love song, and I take a brief moment to enjoy his voice. I bet you didn’t know that Blair has the most beautiful singing voice. It’s not like he keeps it a secret, he just doesn’t sing loudly or publicly, but with my hearing, I am able to hear it. In fact, I listen for it. I know he sings in the shower and in his car and when he thinks he’s alone, and I guiltily admit to listening in. I can’t even remember the first time I realized that I was invading his privacy, or when I realized that I looked forward to hearing his strong, deep voice and how it soothed my soul just as surely as when he talked to me in those same soothing tones. I don’t remember what the first song was that I heard him sing, but I do know that it spoke to my heart and hooked me. His voice was the first thing about him that I fell in love with.

Yes, I just said that I was in love with Blair Sandburg, and yes, I do realize that we are both men. And no, I have never said a word to him because he *is* my best friend, and I want it to stay that way. Besides, I have no idea what he would think about me telling him that I’d like to worship his body like it was a gift from the heavens. Too strong?

Anyway, his singing is also one of the best gauges to his emotions. I can always tell when he’s happy, when he’s depressed and when he’s mad, just by listening to what he’s singing. It’s not always a blessing to be able to tell when he’s found another girl to date, but it always prepares me for the inevitable rants about how this she is and how that she is.

"I’m out of here," he calls to me, grabbing his jacket.

"Wait a minute, Speedy. Where’re you going?"

"I’ve got a date, man. You remember those, don’t you?" Blair teased.

"Very funny. You haven’t forgotten that we have to be at Joel’s early in the morning," I reminded.

"No, I haven’t forgotten. Besides, Jac has an early day also."

This is the first time he’s said her—*Jack*? A guy?

"Jack? You’re dating a guy?" I ask, stunned.

"Jac is short for Jacqueline. And I haven’t dated a guy in years," Blair said, slipping his jacket on, oblivious to my reaction.

"You date guys?" I ask again, stupidly. I just can’t wrap my brain around the concept.

His eyes rake over me, judging my reaction, "That’s not a problem is it?"

"No. No, I just didn’t know." But now I do!

"Well, now you do," Blair said, opening the door. "See you later."

Oh my god! Blair dates men. I have a chance, there’s a possibility. Shit, he’s going out on a date with Her. Fuck! Oh well, it’ll be over with soon enough, they always are.

***

April

You can’t hurry love, no, you just have to wait,

Love don’t come easy, it’s a game of give and take,

You’ve gotta just give it time, no matter how long it takes.

--Dixie Chicks

***

She’s coming to dinner--Jac, as he so often reminds me when I call her something else, usually by another man’s name. I have wanted to call her ‘Jim’ just to see what he’d say, but with those damn psychology classes under his belt, I know it would be too easy for him to figure it out. And while I’d love to be easy for him...

But I digress. He wants me to meet her. He’s never brought a woman home to meet me, and it scares the shit out of me. Oh god, it must be serious.

I can’t decide what to wear, I feel like it’s my date. Looking at my reflection in the mirror, I have a long talk with myself. I promise not to make sarcastic comments that she won’t understand but Blair will. Or roll my eyes when she giggles. Or clench my jaw when she touches him. I promise to give her a fair chance. Yeah, right. I’m going to hate her at first sight.

And I do. She’s a blonde, with legs all the way up, and a killer smile. And then she opens her mouth. I’m screwed and I didn’t even know I turned over. Jac, as it turns out, is an Archeology professor, three years older than Blair. She’s intelligent and funny and can tell a story that puts Blair’s to shame. Hell, I’m starting to like her myself.

I’m sitting here on the couch watching them maneuver around in the kitchen, finishing dinner, and it’s like watching a perfectly choreographed ballet. It’s like they’ve done it countless times before, and I realize that they probably have. All those nights that he was with her, they had been dancing around in her kitchen. Mating dances.

After dinner, they insist on cleaning up, so I go and stand on the balcony, trying to hate her for having what I want with Blair, but liking her in spite of myself. She makes Blair happy, and that’s what is most important to me. I can see them standing side by side, leaning against the counter while the coffee perks, Blair’s lips close to her ear, and I stretch my hearing, needing to torment myself further.

//Some say love, it is a river that drowns the tender reed//

Oh god, he’s singing to her.

//Some say love, it is a razor that leaves your soul to bleed//

I can’t stand it any longer! Cursing my Sentinel abilities, I make some stupid excuse and practically run out the door. It’s a childish thing to do, both the listening in and the running away, but I can’t stand there, listening, watching Blair love someone else, it just hurts too badly.

And I want him to be happy, want him to have someone to love and be loved by, I just hadn’t realized until this moment, that I want it to be me. More than my next breath, I want it to be me. I don’t know where to go with my feelings. Am I supposed to tell him, not knowing how he feels about me, and possibly ruin our friendship? Jac scares the hell out of me because she’s everything he wants, everything I want for him, and she is there, already in his heart. I just have to hope that it won’t last. Even though I know he’ll be hurt, I am praying for her to leave him so I can be there for him to offer comfort and support, and then admit my interest, my feelings. I am a sad case.

***

May

Oh, here she comes,

Watch out boy, she’ll chew you up,

Oh, here she comes,

She’s a maneater.

--Hall and Oates

***

You’re not going to believe this. You’re just not. We’re going camping today, and we’re waiting for Simon to get here. Oh, and did I mention that Jac is going too? I don’t know how I managed to lose control of the situation. Hell, I thought I was being pretty smart suggesting a camping trip, but I’d forgotten that she’s an archeologist; she likes the outdoors, likes fishing and roughing it. The next week is going to be a fucking nightmare, just like last week was when Blair was beaten up by Brad Ventriss’ flunkies. This trip is supposed to be relaxing. Relaxing...yeah, right. I’ll let you know when we get back.

I don’t know what I expected when she arrived. Six bags and the bathroom sink maybe, but she has less stuff than I do. How is that possible? Oh, and did I mention that we went in her new Suburban? Can this woman get any more perfect?

Simon seems to like her. They talked most of the way up while Blair drove. She’s letting Blair drive? Hell, I only do that when I really can’t. Not that he’s a bad driver, just that, well, I don’t know, I just don’t. I guess it’s the part of me that always wants to be in control; maybe that’s what it is about her that bothers me so much. She doesn’t need to be physically in charge of a situation to actually be in control.

When we set up the tents, I was surprised to see her with her own. I had expected them to share a tent, and me suffer through their love making. Relief doesn’t come close to what I felt as I helped her set it up, biting the inside of my lip to keep from grinning. It was a small, hollow victory, only made more meaningless when they took a walk. Down wind, I noticed. I tried not to think about what they were doing, but I eventually had to take a walk of my own, jerking off roughly with thoughts of Blair singing to me.

The next afternoon, we all went rock climbing. Simon and I grinned at one another and scurried up the rock face, each trying to outdo the other. Blair and Jac followed at a slower pace. It was a beautiful day until Blair’s yell shocked me to the core. Sentinel senses easily picked up frantic heart beats, the smell of fear. The gunshot rang loudly in my ears, echoing for minutes afterwards as I hurried down to them.

I had seen Jac’s hip holster earlier, and had questioned her about it, but with her hunting license and gun permit, there was no reason to say any more. Now I was amazingly happy that I hadn’t made a big deal about it. It seemed that Blair had inadvertently woken a sleeping rattler and then lost his balance trying to get away from it. At which point, Jac calmly shot it. Calmly was an understatement. By the time I had gotten to them, she had wrapped Blair’s scraped hand with her bandana, cut the head off the snake and was burying it. I’d never seen anyone in more control of a situation. I was freaking out.

Blair turned to me so I could check his hand, knowing that I needed to make sure that he was all right. We headed back to camp and I cleaned Blair’s hand with the antiseptic from the first aid kit, reassuring him, and myself, that it was nothing but some minor scrapes, nothing to cause him any real pain. He seemed calm under my attentions, smiling up at me with those big blue eyes. There was nothing else in the world at that moment, just me and him. Then he gave a little jerk and turned away, looking for Jac, concerned with how she was handling the situation, and when I looked, I realized that she had disappeared. I promised Blair that I would find her and talk to her as long as he stayed with Simon and rested.

She wasn’t hard to find, especially for a Sentinel. I could see her sitting near the river’s edge, her whole body shaking. Her adrenaline rush was over, and it was hitting her hard. When I sat next to her and put my arm around her shoulder, she turned her face into my chest and sobbed like baby. Her lover’s life, Blair’s life, had been in her hands and she’d saved him. Anything could have happened, he could have moved, she could have frozen, the snake could have struck faster, she could have missed; so many possibilities. It was in those few minutes, holding her while she cried that I made my decision to not interfere in their relationship any more than I already had. She had saved my Guide’s life, and in turn, mine. As much as it hurt, I vowed not to stand in their way.

***

June

It’s not you, it’s not your fault,

You’ve got everything I could ever want,

And you’ve always understood my intentions are good,

And we’ve been so close from the start,

But the furthest distance I’ve ever known is from my head to my heart.

--Evan and Jaron

***

Naomi is in town for a few days, and Blair has invited Jac over to meet his mother. He’s running around like a chicken with his head cut off making sure everything is perfect for dinner. I don’t think he has ever introduced a woman to his mother, and he really wants this to go off without a hitch. I tried to tell him not to worry, that Naomi would like Jac, but it didn’t have any effect. I don’t know if the butterflies in my stomach are for him or for me.

On the one hand, I want Naomi to like her because it would mean a lot to Blair, but on the other hand, I want Naomi to find some fault, some *something* wrong with Jac. Here I go again. I thought I could handle this, and you know, sometimes I really do have it under control, but real life has a tendency to negate best intentions.

Last week, Blair was held hostage by Kincaid, again, along with half of Cascade, and I felt so helpless. My Blessed Protector instinct kicked in, and there was nothing short of the National Guard that could have kept me from going into the arena and getting him out. And if I happened to stop Garret Kincaid at the same time, well then, all the better. Especially because I knew that Kincaid never left witnesses, and knowing Blair, he had made himself a witness, if not more. That damn kid cannot keep his nose out of trouble to save his life. I guess that’s why it’s my job to keep him alive; it has been since the day by the fountain...hell, from the moment we met, but I’m not even going to think about that right now.

I’ve been pretty good about hiding my feelings since the camping trip. I invited Her, Jac, to poker night after the trip. Hell, she’s been over for dinner more times than I can count. And I do like her; she’s got a great sense of humor and she really impresses me with her knowledge. Sometimes I wish I could meet someone just like her so that I could give up this romantic notion of ever having Blair’s heart, but then I see his smile or his eyes, and I know that I will never love another person with the same intensity that I love him.

Dinner seems to be going well. Naomi is talking about all the places she’s been recently, and Jac is asking her about how they have changed over the years. I didn’t realize how much Jac travels. Maybe...just stop that train, Ellison. Smile and eat your food.

Again Blair and Jac clean up the kitchen, but I know enough this time not to listen or watch. Naomi brings me a cup of coffee, and we step out onto the balcony and enjoy the summer night. I can feel her watching me, but I don’t let on; I already feel like an open book to her, and tonight has only made it worse.

"It’s too bad," she says softly, maybe even to herself.

I just nod in case she hadn’t meant to speak aloud.

"Jac seems nice," she says, a bit louder.

"She is."

"It’s just too bad that you..."

I turn to look at her when she stops. I can read her eyes...just like she can read mine. She wants me to tell him, fight for him, make him mine, but she doesn’t say anything. I know she can see the defeat in my eyes, the resignation. I can’t hurt him with a declaration that I don’t know that he’s willing to hear.

"I can’t," I tell her, knowing she understands. "It has to be his decision, Naomi."

"But how can he decide if he doesn’t know there’s a choice to make?"

I can’t answer her. I can’t do any more. I just...can’t.

***

July

It was you who put the clouds around me,

It was you who made the tears fall down,

It was you who broke my heart in pieces.

It was you, it was you who made my blue eyes blue,

I never should have trusted you.

--Eric Clapton

***

I haven’t seen Blair for five days. I haven’t been home in five days. Veronica needs me with her, and I need to be with her. We both lost Alan. There was a time when the three of us were lovers. It was a wild time, years ago. Nothing mattered except being with her, except when she wasn’t around. Then there was only me and him. It was something we kept from Veronica, something that was ours alone. He wasn’t my first, but I felt more for him than any of the others, and when he chose her over me, I was devastated. It hurt to lose him, more than it hurt to lose her.

I’m afraid to go home because I know Blair is there, and I don’t know if I’m strong enough to stay out of his arms. He’s alone right now because Jac left on an archeology dig two weeks ago, and she won’t be back for another month. I feel so fragile, bouncing back and forth between Veronica and work, wearing myself out so I won’t have the chance to feel anything.

To make matters worse, that jerk from IA has been on my case now for a week, constantly harassing me about the drugs that I didn’t take. He’s questioned everybody from the lowliest rookie to Captain Banks and still can’t pin anything on me or prove that I had a hand in taking the drugs. I just wish I could run away, even for a couple of hours. I want...I need, but it doesn’t matter, I have to be strong.

***

August

And that’s what hurts when we say goodbye,

And that’s what hurts on those sleepless nights,

There’s nothing I can do, cause I’m lost inside of you,

And that’s what hurts, and that’s the catch,

Cause the heart’s not good at holding back,

It’s a blessing and a curse, and I don’t know what’s worse,

And that’s what hurts.

--Hall and Oates

***

I killed Alan. I killed a man I once called friend, lover. Shooting him...I don’t even have words for what it felt like. Part of me was saying it was my job, part of me was angry at him, part of me still loved him...when he pulled the gun on me, I just reacted, and then he was dead. I’m grieving for him for the second time in as many months.

I’m numb, I think I have been since I thought he died in the car bomb, and to now be responsible for his death. My senses are freaking out and I need Blair, but I’ve been horrible to him lately, sniping at him, ignoring him. I want to reach out to him, but it’s so hard because I don’t know if I can hold back. If I start spilling my guts to him, I don’t know that I’ll be able to stop, and I really need his friendship right now. Still, I have to risk it.

Finally telling Blair that he was right about Veronica felt good. I don’t think I tell him enough how much I appreciate everything he does for me. With him back at my side, my senses fell right back into place, and it felt good to use them again, to test my limits. I only wish I could do the same with my feelings for Blair. I feel like I’m about to come apart at the seams, and it’s easier to forget about Jac while she’s not in the picture. I know he talks to her weekly, and I see the letters from her in the mail, and if I were any other type of man...well, I don’t have to say it, do I?

I didn’t know what to expect when I went to see Veronica, but I never figured that she’d pull a gun on me. She’s certainly not the woman that I remember from years ago. And now she’s dead. I’ll never know if she meant to kill me, and maybe it’s better that I don’t. I have a hard enough time trying to sleep without having her haunt me there too.

Then, Blair dropped a bombshell on me this morning over breakfast.

"Jim, I need to talk to you."

"What’s up?"

"Jac wants me to come to Egypt for the rest of the summer."

I took a sip of my coffee, trying to think, trying not to lose it.

"You gonna go?" I managed to ask.

"Yeah, I think it’d be a good idea."

Nodding, I ask him the hardest question in the world.

"Are you in love with her?"

He seems surprised that I asked, and a little flustered. "I guess."

"You guess?" I can’t drop this, it’s important to me.

"The thing is, I’ve never told anybody that and really meant it. Never really known how it felt to be in love with someone. It’s one of those things, you know. It’s not something tangible, that I can put my finger on, or define. And everybody throws that word around, uses it to describe everything from songs to food," he pauses before continuing. "I told Maya that I loved her, but I don’t think I did, not like real love. I don’t know, I just never want to say it again until I’m sure, until, I don’t know, until something clicks. Stupid, huh?"

"No, you’re right. The word is overused, and love, true deep love means more than just affection. It’s also devotion, desire, commitment."

"Exactly!"

I nod in agreement, unable to speak. I can hear Veronica’s last words ringing in my ears. ‘If you’d loved me, you would’ve let me walk away.’

"So," changing the subject quickly, "When do you leave?"

"Tomorrow."

I feel my throat constrict.

"You mind giving me a ride to the airport?" he asks.

I’m back to nodding, because I just don’t trust my voice.

"I’ll make dinner tonight," he offers as I disappear upstairs, hoping to get my head on straight before dinner.

I lie down on my bed and close my eyes. These last two months have been so hard, and I thought that now that everything was back to normal, Blair and I could spend some time alone. Hell, I’d even submit to some of his tests just to be together. But now he’s going to Egypt to be with Jac. I wish...

I must have fallen asleep because when I wake up I smell dinner and hear Blair singing to himself. It’s almost more than I can stand.

//It’s the heart afraid of breaking that never learns to dance

//It’s the dream afraid of waking that never takes the chance

‘Take the chance.’

I look around and see my spirit guide sitting at the top of the stairs, the black fur glistening in the soft lighting, his tail twitching.

"Jim?"

I jump at Blair’s voice. Quickly, I look to the top of the stairs, but the panther is gone. It was a dream, must have been a dream. I shake off my sleepiness and head down the stairs.

‘Take the chance.’

I don’t turn this time, but the words stick with me, pull at me. I want to, I want to talk to Blair so much. Maybe it is a good thing he’s leaving, it’ll give me time to separate myself from my feelings, and everything will be okay again.

"Dinner’s ready," Blair calls to me.

We don’t talk much over dinner. Things have been really strained between us since Alan and Veronica came back into my life, hell, even longer than that if I let myself really think about it. I owe Blair a lot, my life even.

"Thank you."

"Wasn’t much, Jim," he says, a bit confused.

"No," I say, swallowing hard, unable to believe that I am going to do this. "Thank you for everything, Blair."

His eyes open wide at his given name.

"You’ve done a lot for me, and I’ve never thanked you. You’re a good friend, Chief."

"You’re welcome, Jim," he says, his voice deeper than usual.

We clean up the kitchen together, and I feel closer to him than I have in a long time. I almost feel like I could tell him the rest, but when I see him start to pack, I know I can't. He’s happy with Jac, and his happiness is more important than my own. Maybe some day.

***

September

And I’m in so electrically, charged up kinetically,

Acting erratically, need you fanatically,

You get to me magically, sure as the sky is blue,

Baby, I love you.

--Martina McBride

***

Blair ‘Whirling Dervish’ Sandburg. He’s been home for three days now, and I’ve only seen him rush in and out. The new semester is starting and he’s swamped at school, but he’s been gone for three weeks and I’ve missed him. He promised to come home for dinner tonight, and I’m really looking forward to it.

The pasta has two minutes to go, when I hear him running up the stairs. I set the bottle of wine on the table just as he swings open the door.

"Hey!" he says, breathless.

"Nice to see you, Chief. Dinner’s almost ready."

"Great, I’m starved."

He heads to the bathroom to wash up as I finish setting dinner out. Sitting at the table, he starts telling me about Egypt between bites of food. It feels so good to sit here and listen to him. I have missed him so much.

"Jim, I’ve gotta ask you a major favor," he says, turning serious on me.

"What do you need, Chief?" I say, amenable to virtually anything he wants.

"Can you help me pick out an engagement ring for Jac?"

Anything except that.

"No."

I head out the door, forgetting my jacket, my keys, just going. I can’t stay.

Hours later I wind up back in front of 852. I don’t remember where I’ve been, but I do know what I have to do. I have to let Blair go, I have to let him be happy, and I guess that means watching him marry Jac. I’ll help him pick out the ring, I’ll stand up with him if he asks, and I’ll make a toast at their reception. I’ll be the friend he needs me to be.

I listen in as I walk up the stairs. He’s there, but he’s not doing anything. I hope he’s asleep and we can have this conversation in the morning. No such luck.

"Jim, we need to talk," he says even before I’ve closed the door.

"Okay."

"I know what’s going on."

And he does. And the world hasn’t ended.

It’s been three days since Blair figured out that I’m in love with him. He hasn’t left, but then he also hasn’t said the same to me. He did say that he needs time to think about this. Okay, I can give him time. I can give him time. It seems like I’ve been saying those words constantly to myself for the last three days. Kinda like they’ve become my hope mantra. As long as he doesn’t tell me it isn’t possible. I just don’t know how long I can keep believing...

I notice Blair’s car when I pull up at the loft. He’s been avoiding me since *that* night, so I hope this is a good sign. I try not to race up the stairs, but I end up taking them by twos. Patience is not my strong suit.

He’s sitting at the table, working on his lap top when I open the door. Lifting his head, he smiles at me, and I drop my keys to the floor. I can feel myself blush as I bend to pick them up. God, he makes me feel like a kid. I blush a darker shade when I turn and see that he has watched me bend over, blatantly ogling my ass. I walk over to the kitchen and hide behind the counter, hide the erection his gaze started. He grins at his computer screen, and I get harder, knowing that he knows.

"Want a beer?" I ask, unable to think very rationally.

"Nah," he says, clicking off the lap top.

I turn back around and he’s standing on the other side of the counter, watching me move again. I could get used to this. It has to mean something.

"I talked to Jac," he starts, "about us."

The beer freezes on its way to my mouth. Did he just say us?

"I told her that we shouldn’t see each other for a while, until I figure out how I feel about you."

"Okay," I say, unable to manage more than that.

"I thought maybe we could date, or something," he suggests.

I have to smile at that. "Isn’t that what we’ve been doing, Chief?"

"Kinda. It’s like we skipped a step and went right to living together."

"Yeah, but without the sex!" Great Jim, just tell him how horny you are!

"About that," Blair said, dropping his eyes from mine for the first time. "I’ve never actually..."

"But, but you said—"

"I said, I’d dated men before, I never said I went to bed with any of them. I never wanted to...until now," his last words are a whisper of breath that makes my skin tingle.

I stretch out my hand to cup his face and he leans into the caress, his eyes closing, a small sigh escaping his parted lips. This is what I wanted, to be able to touch him with no secrets between us, to show him my love.

"Blair." His name on my lips. A caress. An oath. My world.

His sapphire blue eyes open and pierce me with their desire.

"I want to kiss you," he whispers.

I’m around the counter in two steps, pulling him flush against me, letting him feel the full effect he has on me, and feeling the answering hardness of his own flesh.

I can’t stop touching his face. I trail my finger across his forehead, down his cheek and follow the line of his jaw until I get to his chin. I tilt his head up and lower my head, our first kiss. His lips are so soft under mine, and I feel them part in invitation. I let the tip of my tongue taste him, and my body sings under the pleasure. He opens his mouth wider in encouragement, and, delving deeper, I fall into pure Blair. I feel more alive than I’ve ever felt before. His taste is sharpening all my senses, making me more aware than I have ever been. I let my hands wander down his body, past the supple muscles in his shoulders and back, to the slightly tapered waist. Knowing I could lose myself completely if I go any further, I break our kiss, breathing hard and feeling the regret pour off Blair’s body.

"Jim..."

I hear the desire and want in his voice, and part of me wants to just sweep him up and carry him up to my—our bed, but there is still a sliver of rationality in my spinning head. He may want me, but does he love me?

"Do you know how easy it would be to make love to you right now?" I ask him, his sapphire eyes locked with mine. "Do you know how much I want you? Can you feel it? The power and attraction between us?"

"Yes," he whispers.

"I love you," I tell him, unable to keep it inside.

His silence stings for a brief moment, but I know he doesn't mean to hurt me. I lift

his chin and his eyes follow.

"One day," I start, my eyes locked with his, "you'll be able to tell me the same, and

mean it the way I do."

"I want to."

His eyes hold the promise of forever, and for now, it’s enough.

***

Week #1-Mid-September

All the while you were in front of me, I never realized,

I just can’t believe I didn’t see it in your eyes,

I didn’t see it, I can’t believe it, oh, but I feel it,

When you sing to me

How I long to hear you sing beneath the clear blue skies,

And I promise you this time I’ll see it in your eyes

--Marc Anthony

***

*Sunday*

We’re dating. Okay, I can do this, I can show him how much I love him, and make him realize that he loves me too. I can feel it in my soul.

After our talk, we ordered Chinese and sat together on the couch and ate and laughed and talked. House rules and all other rules be damned. He told me about Egypt, and I didn’t flinch when he brought up Jac because she seemed so far out of the picture to me. After dinner, we sat even closer and watched tv. I have no idea what we watched. When the news was over, we hemmed and hawed, and eventually kissed and went to bed alone. It was hard to sleep, because I was so excited about what the week would bring.

*Monday*

I woke up earlier than usual, and headed for the bakery. They had fresh blueberry bagels that were still hot from the oven. I stopped at the corner market and paid their exorbitant price for real butter, arteries be damned. I was on my way back when I saw the florist putting out the new flowers, and I stopped in for a handful of daisies. Why daisies you ask? Daisies are free and wild, and remind me of my Blair. Get me, _My_ Blair. Oh man, have I got it bad!

When I got back upstairs, Blair was already in the shower, so I set out the breakfast I’d bought and poured him a cup of coffee, a glass of milk and another glass of juice. I bet you didn’t know that he’s such a drinker, but I learned early. First he drinks the milk, then the coffee and then the juice. Don’t ask me why, I never heard the straight truth on that one myself.

I was fumbling around trying to remember where we had stashed the vases from the last hospital visit when he came out of the bathroom. I turned to watch him, a towel low on his hips and one around his hair, and all my vital organs took notice. There were still beads of water on his shoulders and clinging in his chest hair. I couldn’t have spit to save my life. This was the first time I was able to look, and let him know I was looking.

His easy smile deepened and his eyes twinkled, and then he turned and went into this bedroom. He didn’t close the bedroom door all the way. He didn’t...oh sweet Jesus...he just dropped the towel. I had to look away, but the image of his bare ass was burned into my brain. I briefly rethought my decision about making love, but squelched it so I could operate.

I finally found a vase and put the daisies in it, then set it on the table next to our breakfast. Turning to call him, I experienced that wave of desire for him again, all because he was putting his hair up, and I could see the pale skin on the back of his neck. I wondered what it would taste like, practically zoning on the idea.

"Am I breakfast?" he asks, bringing me back.

He was laughing at me, knowing that I was wide open to him.

"Only if you don’t behave," I teased back.

"Incentive to be bad, don’t you think, Jim?"

Then he noticed the bagels and flowers.

"Oh man, this is so nice."

And I blushed under his kind words. A little more and I’d be a puddle. I’m so easy.

*Wednesday*

I check one final time to make sure everything is in place. I can hear Blair coming up the stairs, and I open the door for him. I take his coat and backpack to hang up, feeling him wrap his arms around me, his head resting against my back.

"Hard day?" I ask.

"Long."

"I’ve got something for you," I say, hoping it will lift his spirits.

"Oh," he says, and I feel his hand slowly slide down my stomach.

"Chief!" I say, breaking out of his grasp, but smiling at his tenaciousness. "Dinner."

"Oh man! Your herb chicken? The one you won’t give me the recipe for?"

"Plus wild rice, baby carrots and a Caesar salad." Blair’s favorites.

His surprised eyes meet mine. "What’s the occasion?"

"You’re home for dinner. Do I need a better excuse?"

"No. Thank you," he says softly. "So, how am I gonna get this recipe from you?"

"I’ll think of something, Chief, don’t you worry!"

*Saturday*

"You ready?" I ask him for the second time in as many minutes.

"What’s you hurry?" he asks, a bit of impatience in his voice.

"We have to get there early."

"Where?"

Shaking my head, "You know I’m not telling."

"Ass!"

"Dick!"

"Get over here!"

"It wasn’t a proposition, Sandburg!"

"Sounded like one to me!"

"Get your mind out of the gutter, and get out here!"

"Quit yer bitchin’, I’m coming."

I wish!

Fifteen minutes later, we finally get to the truck, and we’re on our way.

"Are we there yet?" he teases.

"Patience is always rewarded."

"Oh, yes, Grasshopper."

He settles down and enjoys the ride. The day is sunny, a rarity for Cascade, and it’s the perfect temperature, not too hot and not too cool. I notice that he sat up a bit when we pulled into the Chandler Park. I drive around until we we’re at the spot I picked out yesterday.

"Give me a hand here, Chief."

This is the first time he’s noticed the storage boxes in the back of the truck.

Hefting one, "What have you got in here?"

"Everything but the kitchen sink," I laugh.

I direct us to a table under a big oak tree. Motioning for Blair to sit, I open one of the boxes and start removing things—a tablecloth, a radio (which he immediately tunes to his favorite station), salt and pepper shakers, a pitcher of lemonade, glasses, cartons of pasta salad, sandwiches, potato chips and gingersnaps—everything for a perfect picnic.

"Where’s the silverware?" he asks.

Silver...shit! Wait a minute. I rush back to the truck, a Sandburg idea running through my head. Aha!!

I hand them to him.

"Chopsticks?"

"Sure, why not."

"Why not!" he says, digging into his pasta salad with the chopsticks.

After lunch, I clean up while he looks around the area. I try not to notice when he takes an interest in the tree by our table.

"Jim!"

"Yeah," I say, trying not to give anything away.

"What’s this?" He’s pointing to something carved into the tree.

I come up behind him and wrap my arms around his firm body.

Whispering in his ear, "It says ‘Jim loves Blair’. And I do."

"When did you do this?" his voice is soft and thoughtful.

"Yesterday."

"You’re amazing."

"I keep telling you that!"

I turn him in my arms and kiss him deeply, not caring about where we are or who is watching. This is the man I love.

Stepping out of his seductive embrace, I try to control myself. An activity! Yes, something physical that doesn’t require him to be pressed up against me, under me...stop that!

I return to my storage boxes and open the second one and show Blair what else I brought.

"A kite!"

His childlike enthusiasm is infectious, and I can’t help but think that this is the best idea I’ve had in a long time.

***

Week #2-Late-September

I never saw blue like that before,

Across the sky, around the world,

You’re giving me all you have and more,

And no one else has ever shown me how

To see the world the way I see it now,

Oh, I never saw blue like that before

--Shawn Colvin

***

*Monday*

It’s been raining cats and dogs since early Sunday, showing no signs of letting up. I barely made it home without getting soaked, and I hope Blair has been as lucky. His Volvo hates the rain almost as much as he does, so when I hear him pull up, I’m relieved. I listen to him climb the stairs, his shoes squeaking, his jeans slapping wetly. Stepping out into the hallway, I watch him walk towards me, soaked to the skin.

"What happened, Chief?"

"They had the faculty lot closed, and I had to park in the student lot, and you know how crowded it is on Mondays. Well, I was on my way to the car when it started pouring and..."

"And you got drenched."

"To the core, man."

I take his soaking backpack and set it on the counter. Lucky that it was water proof, but he wasn’t. I notice him shiver and know what he needs.

"Strip your clothes off, Chief."

"Is that a proposition?"

"No, it’s an order!"

The tease starts stripping right there in the kitchen, and I grab his bathrobe from his bedroom and toss it to him, ignoring his commentary. I start the hot water in the shower, and hear him behind me. When I turning to leave, he grabs my hand and gives me a quick squeeze. I smile at him and close the door behind me.

I put the kettle on and turn the heat up under the stew. I contemplate going down to the bakery and getting fresh bread, but I want to be here when he gets out of the shower. Needing something to fill the minutes, I check the floor for puddles of water, but he must have cleaned it up. I must be doing something right for him to start cleaning up after himself.

I gather up his wet clothes from the kitchen counter and take them to the dryer. He still has some clothes in the dryer, and I reach in to take them out, but reconsider when I see what they are—sweats. Smiling, I grab two towels from the stack and toss them in with the sweats and turn the dryer on.

Ten minutes later, the dryer clicks off and I gather up the warmed towels and sweats, folding them neatly. I softly open the bathroom door and set them on the counter, thankful that the shower curtain is thick enough so I won’t be tempted to try and look at him.

While he finishes his shower, I pour the boiling water over the tea leaves and inhale the refreshing scent as it brews. I check and make sure the fire is still going strong and grab one of the blankets from the back of the couch and spread it in front of the fire. Hearing the bathroom door open, I look up and watch him walk towards me, still drying his hair with a towel.

He stops in front of me and I stand quickly, taking the towel from him.

"Thank you, Jim."

The huskiness of his voice sends shivers down my spine.

"Sit down, let me comb your hair for you."

As he sits, I return to the kitchen and bring the pot of tea and a mug for him. He smiles in appreciation. I sit behind him with my legs spread, and he scoots back until he is firmly against me. Firmly...what a bad choice of words. My hands shake as I take the wide toothed comb from him. I start at the bottom of his riot of curls, like I’ve seen him do countless times and slowly work through each snag. When I finish, he leans back against me, and my arms naturally wrap around him.

"You take such good care of me," he says softly.

"You mean everything to me, Chief."

He raises one of my hands to his lips and kisses each knuckle, his tongue lightly wetting the skin. I gasp at the sensation, unable and unwilling to move away.

"I want to take care of you," he whispers against my palm.

"Blair," I growl, "please."

"Please stop or please continue?" he teases.

Before I can even decide, I smell the stew burning and jump up to try and save it. We end up having pizza for dinner, but I barely taste anything because I made the mistake of licking pizza sauce off my knuckle and tasting Blair. It spoiled the dinner for me because I couldn’t get my mind off how he tasted and wanting more.

*Wednesday*

Blair has a departmental meeting tonight, so after a simple dinner of sandwiches, I make myself comfortable on the couch, mostly ignoring the mindless sitcoms. The knock on the door startles me, and I rise to answer it. It’s Jac.

"Hi. Blair’s not here," I offer.

"I know. I’m here to see you, Jim."

Oh. This should be interesting.

"Come in."

There’s something different about her tonight, something predatory, and I feel my defenses rising to head her off.

"What’s going on here?"

"What do you mean, Jac?"

"I mean, what the hell are you doing to Blair?" She pauses long enough to take a breath before continuing, "You know he was serious about me, and now all of a sudden you’re messing with his head, trying to convince him that you love him—"

"I do love him!"

"Then love him enough to let him go so he can be with me!"

"That should be his decision, Jac. He’s an adult!"

"Don’t you see, you’re confusing him. He was happy with me--"

"He’s happy with me too!" She is really starting to piss me off!

"Then why is he still spending time with me?" she says, practically gloating.

Needing to take her down a notch, "For the same reason he has lunch with Simon or any of the other guys at the station—you’re his friend."

Jac’s hand flashes out and quickly slaps me across the cheek, rage burning in her eyes.

"If he’s meant to be with you, he’ll come back" I tell her, my voice low and slightly threatening. "But, if he’s meant to be with me, I’m going to hold on to him forever."

"We’ll just see about that!" she says, leaving and slamming the door behind her.

Damn it all to hell! What a...

He’s still seeing her? No, he wouldn’t do that to me. She’s just pissed off and lashing out. He wouldn’t do that to me. Not Blair. Oh fuck. I can’t just stand here, I feel like I need to hit something. Calm down, just calm the fuck down.

Spying my free weights, I quickly grab them and start punishing my body. Half an hour later, muscles trembling, and still having no answers, I drop the weights and head for the shower. I’m calmer now and ready to talk to Blair when he gets home.

I’ve just sat back down on the couch, when I hear his key in the door and this wave of peace settles over me, his presence soothing away all my remaining anxiety. Everything is going to be okay.

"Hey Jim!"

"Chief."

He looks at me speculatively, his left eyebrow doing the cutest little twitch, making me consider kissing him all over and then...

"Something up?"

Working on it!

"Yeah," I start, motioning for him to sit down, "we need to talk."

Sitting, he looks at me worriedly, so I take his hand to reassure him.

"It’s not life or death, Guppy," I say just to see his smile. "Jac came to see me tonight."

"Oh?"

"She seems to think you’d be happier if I backed off and let you be with her. Is that what you want, Chief? Do you want me to—"

"No! I don’t know what she said to you to make you think that I don’t want to be with you, because I do," he squeezes my hand for emphasis.

"Blair—"

"No, Jim, let me say this," he whispers. "I’m feeling things for you, things I’ve never felt for another person before. Ever. I don’t want to be with anybody else, Jim, just you."

"I love you, Blair."

"I wish I could—"

"You’ll say them when you’re ready. My love for you is unconditional. You may not say it, but I feel it."

"Jim, I do have to tell you one thing," Blair insists, his eyes and tone very serious. "I never told Jac that I loved her. I want you to know that."

"Thank you, Blair."

*Thursday*

Blair decided that he needed to talk to Jac as soon as possible, and he asked me to be there with him. I didn’t think it was such a good idea, but I have a hard time saying no to him. He asked her to meet him in his office after lunch. A lunch he barely touched.

She was surprised to see me and I felt anxious, for both of them, hoping that their friendship could be salvaged after their break up. I knew Blair cared deeply for Jac and that hurting her was the last thing he’d intended by being with me. I only hoped that she wouldn’t hurt him in return.

I sat across from them as Blair began to explain to her that he wasn’t going to date her anymore, that it wasn’t fair of him to lead her on. She tried to convince him that she loved him and would do anything for him, but he told her that her loving him wasn’t the problem, that he cared about her and still wanted to be her friend. I thought she might cry, but she surprised me and hung onto her dignity. She’s an amazing woman, and I hope that she finds someone who appreciates how strong and special she is, and I told her so. She smiled for the first time since she’d arrived and apologized for slapping me the night before, and I told her I understood. She thanked both of us for being honest with her and then left.

Feeling emotionally drained, I hugged Blair against me, needing him as much as he needs me. Things were looking up.

*Saturday*

Tonight is our first official date, the ‘get dressed up and go out to dinner’ kind of date. I made reservations at Callaghan’s, a very discreet restaurant in Tacoma. I can’t wait to get Blair in my arms on the dance floor.

Slipping my suit coat on, I head downstairs and see Blair waiting for me. He bought a new suit just for this date, but I’m not supposed to notice, even though I know his wardrobe as well as my own. He looks wonderful in the dark charcoal suit, and the blue shirt makes his eyes stand out even more than usual. I’m not sure if I’ll survive tonight.

When we get to the restaurant, we are immediately seated at one of the side booths as I had requested. Blair’s presence at my side is a notable distraction as I try to decide what I want for dinner, I can barely think. Once our orders have been placed, I take his hand and lead him to the dance floor.

The soft jazz surrounds us as I hold Blair close to me, our bodies, so different, fit together like pieces of a puzzle. The rest of the world around us disappears as we cling to one another. After a couple of songs, we return to the table and our appetizers arrive. As we eat, Blair places his hand on my thigh and smiles broadly at me. Throughout dinner his hand barely wavers, only leaving for brief moments and then returning, warming me with its presence.

After we finish dinner, Blair suggests we return to the dance floor, and I can’t refuse him. Holding him in my arms, I am the closest to heaven I have ever been. He hums in my ear along with the song, a song whose title eludes me, but whose familiarity stirs at my soul.

"What’s the name of this song?" I ask him softly.

"It’s ‘It Never Entered My Mind’," he whispers back, then continues to hum.

I don’t know how long we danced, didn’t care because there was nowhere else on earth that I wanted to be more. It was the sound of the bus boys clearing the tables that finally made me realize that it was late. I held his hand as we walked out to the truck and then kissed him softly before he got in.

When we got home, we stood there outside the door, keys forgotten in my hand and kissed good night. I felt his hands on my back, holding me firmly against him, while I had one hand in his hair and one cupping his jaw. I didn’t want this night to end.

Breaking the kiss, he offers, "I’d invite you in, but I don’t have any coffee, and the only thing I could offer you is me."

"That’s one hell of an offer," I say, laughing.

I open the door and follow him in. He heads for the kitchen for a glass of water, and I slip my coat off and loosen my tie. It may not be the brightest idea, but I sit on the couch and wait for him to come sit beside me. He steps into his bedroom, and I listen to him remove his coat and tie, neatly hanging them up. He’s unbuttoning the top buttons of his dress shirt as he walks towards me. I swallow hard, unable to look away. He moves to sit, but not beside me, no, on my lap, and I feel the last of my will power break away as my lips touch his again.

His tongue is hot and spicy in my mouth, running over every surface, measuring my reaction. I am doing my own experiments, and know I have hit the mother load when I suck on his tongue and he writhes against me. He turns in my lap, and our erections brush through the thin wool, heating up the fire between us even more.

I let his lips go and trail kisses down his jaw, tasting the hot flesh of his neck and ear. His fingers pinch my nipples, and I moan out loud. I feel him smile against my cheek and he does it again. Deciding to play the same game, I slip my hand down and finger the ring threaded through his left nipple through the cotton shirt. His hips buck against mine, and I answer with a thrust of my own. His head drops back, baring his neck, inviting me in, and I go. I feel the need to mark him in some way, and the tender skin on the side of his neck is my canvas. Sucking hard, I match each of his thrusts, leaving my brain behind. His voice, his pleading voice draws my attention.

"Please touch me," he whispers, and I can’t resist.

Turning up my sense of touch, I start at his neck, feeling the hammering pulse at his throat. Slowly moving down to his chest, I can feel his heart beat even faster as I graze each nipple with a fingertip. His eyes lock with mine as I tentatively move my hand further down. His belt buckle is cold in my hand, and I question this act until I see his eyes close and feel the minute tremors in his body. He wants me to touch him, to feel how much he wants me; this is the only way he can show me how he feels. Unhurriedly, I slide my hand down to his cup erection, it’s heat evident through his clothes. I feel his cock jerk under my touch. I want more.

"Open your eyes," I ask him, barely recognizing my own voice.

His eyes, almost black with desire, open and pierce me with their fire. I falter, unable to remember what I was going to say to him, and he smiles knowingly.

"I want you," he says, pushing up into my hand.

Slowly, regretfully, I release his hardness and slide my hand up to cup his face, running my thumb across his bottom lip.

"I want you as well. Oh, the things I want from you, Blair."

I rest my forehead against his and kiss his lips softly. I feel his regret as deeply as my own. He knows it isn’t a rejection of him, it’s just me wanting more than his body.

"Tell me to go to bed," I ask him.

He sighs heavily, then, "Go to bed, Jim."

We stand wearily and part with a soft kiss. I head towards the bathroom while he goes into his bedroom. Shaking my head at my reflection, I wash my hands. Blair comes out of his bedroom in his bathrobe, and I try not to think about what he’s going to do, what we’re both going to do. Ever since the beginning, Blair has been considerate enough to masturbate in the shower so the smell wouldn’t affect me, and I have been considerate enough to ignore his actions.

I head up the stairs slowly, turning my hearing and smell down past normal, strip and climb into bed. I am finished before he comes out of the bathroom and asleep soon after.

***

October

You see, it feels like I’m starting to care,

And I’m gonna be ready this time,

Ready to run, ready to have some fun,

What’s all this talk about love?

--Dixie Chicks

***

Week #3-Early October

Could you really be someone to have and hold

With all my heart and soul,

I need to know, before I fall in love

Someone who will stay around

Through all my ups and downs

Please tell me now before I fall in love

--Coco Lee

***

*Sunday*

I smelled the coffee before I was fully awake, and wondered what Blair was doing awake so early. I had the day off, knew he had the day off, so I rolled over and tried to go back to sleep.

"Jim?"

Lifting my head, I saw Blair standing at the top of the stairs holding a tray.

"What time is it?" I asked hoarsely.

"After ten," he said. "I brought breakfast."

I rolled over as Blair set the tray on the bedside table, and then sat on the bed next to me. He leaned down and kissed me softly.

"Thank you, again, for last night," he said, his fingers stroking my rough cheek.

"You’re very welcome," I said. "Can you hand me my robe?"

"Feeling shy?" he teased, grinning at me while he got my robe from the closet.

Standing up, I clearly showed him that I wasn’t.

Walking down the stairs, I called to him, "You’re gonna catch flies if you don’t close your mouth."

My body tingled all over, thinking about his eyes on me. Willpower was at a minimum around here and I wasn’t helping, but I couldn’t help grinning at my reflection in the mirror. Talk about upping the ante! Deciding to be nicer to my guide, I wrapped a towel around my waist for the trip back upstairs.

Blair was still standing where I had left him, but at least his mouth was closed. I didn’t think guides zoned.

"You okay?"

His eyes flickered up to meet mine, "I...I just...wow!"

"You’ve seen me naked before, Chief."

"Yeah, but never...never like *that*."

I felt my face get hot with embarrassment, "I’m sorry."

"No! No, you’re beautiful, it was just unexpected."

His eyes sparkled with laughter, and I couldn’t help but be pulled in. He makes me so happy.

"So, what’ve you got for me?" Seeing his mind work, I clarified my statement before he could test my limits any further. "For breakfast."

His fast smile told me I was right, and he ducked his head under my scrutiny.

"I’ve got coffee, juice, bagels and fruit."

"No eggs?" I teased, climbing back under the covers, the towel still around me.

"You know, eggs aren’t the only breakfast food."

"Yeah, yeah."

He reached for the tray but I stopped him with a hand on his arm.

"How about you get into bed with me and share breakfast?" I ask.

Speechless is a good color on him. I love reducing him to the nodding stage.

He slipped off his sweatpants and his flannel shirt and climbed into bed wearing his usual nighttime attire of a tee-shirt and flannel boxers. I wondered what he’d wear when we started sleeping together. Oh man!

Shifting the covers and pillows, he resettled them around himself and then set the tray on the bed between us, sliding the Sunday paper from under the bagels, and handing it to me. Sundays off have always been my favorite time with him, sharing the paper and leisure time, and today was only going to prove to be the best so far.

*Tuesday*

I check my watch for the tenth time in as many minutes. Why hasn’t Blair called? His last class was over fifteen minutes ago, and he always goes to his office afterwards. Of course, anything could have distracted him, a student needing help, someone hoisting more work on him, anything. Waiting sucks!

I jump when the phone rings and snatch it up quickly.

"Ellison."

"Sandburg."

"Hey," I say softly, trying to keep the emotion out of my voice in the bull pen.

"You know anything about some flowers I got?" he asks, his smile evident in his words.

"Flowers? I don’t know. They wouldn’t happen to be yellow would they?"

"Amazingly enough, they are."

"Do you like them?" I ask, serious now.

"They’re beautiful, Jim. Thank you! But why daffodils?"

"Why don’t you use your fancy little computer there and see what it says."

"Okay."

I hear him flip the machine on, its motor warming up as it loads his various programs. I’m happy to wait, nothing is as important as he is, and listening to him breathe in my ear is calming. I am so head over heels. I’m such a sap!

"Now what?" he says, snapping me out my day dreams.

"Let me give you this address." I rattle off a web address that I have memorized.

I hear him typing the information in and then the silence of waiting for it to load.

"Oh, Jim," he sighs in my ear.

With a little bit of help from a computer friend, I made a web page, a page full of daffodils spelling out the question "will you be my valentine now and forever?"

"I know it’s kinda early, but I—"

"Yes!"

"Yes?"

"Yes, Jim. Forever."

The silence on the line speaks volumes. We need no other words to convey our devotion to one another. I long to tell him, again, that I love him, but it isn’t the time or the place, and he knows it, just as deeply as I know in my heart that he loves me even though he has yet to say the words.

Finally, his voice breaks the silence, "Why daffodils?"

"Because they mean you’re the only one for me," I say softly. "I’ll see you at home, Chief."

*Friday*

I don’t know what Blair is up to, and it’s making me nervous. He’s been secretive for the last couple of days, ever since I sent him the flowers, maybe even before that, but I really noticed it the last couple of days. He told me to wait at the station until he called and told me to come home. I’ve been banned from my own home.

He finally called and I am flying out of the building. He sounded so happy, excited, and I don’t know whether or not it’s a good thing. Sometimes his enthusiasm gets him, us, into trouble, but I will follow him to the ends of the earth if that’s where he leads me.

Parking the truck, I stretch my hearing, but hear nothing out of the ordinary. As I walk up the stairs, I try again with my sense of smell, but only get the usual smells of home and Blair. Only one way to find out what’s going on, and that’s to open the door.

"Merry Christmas!"

What? I look around and see the small Christmas tree with several wrapped gifts under its branches.

"What’s going on, Chief?"

Not answering, he pulls my jacket off and unhooks my holster and slips it into the drawer where I always keep it. He hands me a mug of hot apple cider and leads me over to the Christmas tree. Sitting down, he waits for me to follow suit. I can’t help but follow his wordless requests because his smile is so beautiful.

"Merry Christmas," he says again, softer, his hand taking mine.

"It’s not Christmas, Santa," I tell him, pulling his head closer, running my fingers through his curls. "Did you hit your head? I don’t feel a bump."

"Stop it!" he says laughing, trying to straighten his hair. Yeah, a real possibility!

"So, what’s going on?"

"Well, I was thinking," he pauses to point a finger at me, stopping me from my usual response, and then continues, "about the Christmas you spent in Peru, and the ones you’ve spent alone since then, and I wanted to try and give them back to you."

"Blair—"

"I know it’s sappy—"

"It’s perfect. Thank you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," I say softly, leaning over to kiss his sweet lips.

"So, where do you want to start?" he asks.

Unable to refuse, I unbutton the top button on his shirt.

"Hey!"

"Aren’t you one of my presents?" I tease.

"Later," he says, handing me a present.

Shaking it, I can’t help myself, "What is it?"

"Open it," he says, rolling his eyes.

I slip the lid off, noticing Blair’s lack of tape, an interesting phenomenon which I will figure out one day, and pull out an apron.

"Thought you needed some variety," he says, laughing.

I turn the apron around and see the printing: I keep the best snacks under my apron!

"Chief!" I say, a bit embarrassed.

"What?" he says, ready to defend his present. "It’s true!"

"I can’t wear it when we have company."

"I know," he says, wiggling his eyebrows in a suggestive manner.

"What’s next?" I ask, trying to control the impulse to kiss him into the New Year.

"Um, this one," he says, handing me a box that is shaped like a shoe box.

I lift the lid off—socks? More white socks? Like he doesn’t already think I have enough white socks. I pick a pair up and notice the decoration on the side—XXX Rated.

"I’m noticing a trend here, Sex Pot."

"And I thought I was the observer!"

"Smart ass!"

His laughing is doing all kinds of things to my insides, as well as my outsides. I don’t think I have ever been this hard. Okay, maybe last Saturday when we were on the couch together, but tonight is a close second.

He hands me another package, smaller than the others. I shred the paper and almost swallow my tongue. Lube. Strawberry flavored lube.

"I just thought...if you don’t like the flavor...I mean, I might like...shit!"

I love Blair Sandburg, but when he’s speechless, I adore the ground he walks on.

"It’s great, Blair. It’s gonna be great," I say, easing his anxiety. "What else have you got for me?"

"Two more," he says, pulling out two envelopes and handing me one.

I rip it open and pull out two tickets to Sunday’s Seattle Seahawks game at the Kingdome. A game that was sold out weeks ago.

"How’d you get these?"

"Do you really want to know?" he asks in return.

"Probably better that I don’t!" I tell him, leaning to kiss his addictive lips again. "And last, but not least..."

He slowly hands me the envelope, and I’m almost afraid to open it because of his reaction. I pause to squeeze his thigh for reassurance and he smiles, but now I’m the one who needs reassurance.

"Are you sure you want me to open this?"

He nods and I study the envelope carefully. There are no distinguishing markings, and curiosity is getting the better of me. I rip open the flap and pull out a sheet of paper. I immediately understand his hesitancy in giving me this; it’s a copy of his latest blood test.

"Blair?"

"I..." he starts, his voice shaky. "I just wanted you to know, so that when..."

I let him off the hook, "So that when the time comes, we can make love without any worries."

"Yeah!"

I pull him into my arms, practically into my lap and hold him close. He is the most precious gift I have ever received in my entire life, and I am so thankful that I found him. Or did he find me? We found one another.

I hear his soft whisper, "I always wanted to make love under the Christmas tree."

"This year, you will," I tell him, "but for right now, will holding you be enough?"

"More than enough."

We lie spooned together, him in front, our hands clasped tightly, drifting together on a sea of tranquility, thinking of the future and each other. The world goes on outside our door, but for tonight, it is just us.

*Saturday*

The thing I hate most about working on Saturdays is that, unless I specifically need Blair, I work alone. He works so hard during the week that I’ve always made him Saturdays off so he’ll get a chance to rest.

Everything was going smoothly, half the day was gone and the pile of paperwork on my desk was down to only a foot high when Simon sent me out to track down a witness. I do it all the time, so I thought nothing of it. That is, until the witness turned out to be a drug dealer who didn’t respond kindly to my presence. I chase him for six blocks, over, under, up, down, and finally tackle him, landing in a pile of trash. We won’t even talk about the fact that the trash was from a seafood restaurant and that it was two days old.

Simon sent me home, quickly, and told me to come in on Monday and do the paperwork. I could barely stand to smell myself, and it didn’t help that the day had turned unseasonably warm. If I never smell fish again, it would be too soon!

Blair’s smile turned to a frown when he smelled me. He kept his distance as I made my way to the shower. Stripping off my clothes, I stretched and felt the aches and pains that were so unavoidable and so much more common these days. I stood for a long time looking at my reflection in the mirror. I was forty years old. Half or maybe more of my life was gone, and what did I have to show for it? Refusing to dwell on it, I turned the hot water on and climbed in.

I stayed under the hot spray until the water ran cold, and even then enjoyed the strong spray. My growling stomach finally chased me out of the bathroom and into the arms of my guide. His kisses comforted me and welcomed me back into a decent mood. The smell of dinner made my stomach growl again, and he released me.

Prowling the kitchen, I check out the various pots and discover what Blair has been doing all day. He made Mexican—chicken and cheese enchiladas, Spanish rice, beans—oh, I am a lucky man. I set the table, while Blair threw my dirty, smelly clothes into the washing machine. He surprised me again when he brought out fresh tortillas and Mexican beer. Comfort food.

After dinner, we cleaned up the kitchen together, his shoulder bumping mine every time I moved. It drove me crazy, made me want to touch him, and I plotted just how I was going to make that happen. Once the dishes were done, I made a fire, and then I settled on the couch with the vanilla ice cream and coffee Blair brought me. If I had been a cat, I would have purred.

We watched tv together, some news, some sports, an animal show, I don’t really know, I was too busy playing footsie with him under the shared afghan. I had just gotten my foot halfway up the leg of his sweat pants, when he threw the cover off and stood up. He disappeared into his bedroom and returned a minute later with a sheet, a towel and a bottle of massage oil. He didn’t say a word, just pointed to the floor in front of the roaring fire.

I headed upstairs, stripped and put on my bathrobe, and when I returned, Blair had spread the sheet on the floor. This wasn’t the first time Blair had given me a massage after a hard day, but it was the first time since we’d gotten serious about one another. I noticed him averting his eyes as I slipped off the robe and lay down on the sheet, draping the towel across my ass.

"How’d you know?" I asked.

I felt, more than saw him shrug his shoulders as he settled himself on my thighs, right below the towel and heard the bottle cap snap open.

"You might be more comfortable if you took off your sweatshirt," I suggested.

He stood up and stripped off the shirt, aware that I was watching.

"Any other helpful hints?" he said, his hands already at he waist of his sweatpants.

I guess my grin was enough of an answer, and the pants slid down his lightly furred legs, revealing dark green flannel boxers and his ever present white socks. He resettled himself on me and got down to business.

His strong hands loosened the tight muscles in my shoulders and back, and I melted under his touch. Well, all except for my cock which decided that it wants to declare independence from my brain. I feel like it’s trying to drill a hole in floor underneath me, and Blair on top of me is not helping. Every time he leans forward, his semi-hard cock presses against my ass, and I have to bite my tongue to keep from moaning. I wonder if he knows what he’s doing to me.

His strokes slow and I sigh contentedly. There’s only one more thing I want from him right now.

"Babe, can you lay down on me?"

I hear his breathing hitch, but no reply.

"I need to feel you against me," I say hoping he’ll give me this.

I feel added pressure on my back as he lowers his torso, the hair on his chest making my skin tingle. He presses a kiss against my heated skin and then lowers his head, his ear pressed against me, the metal of his earrings an island of cool calmness. He can hear my heartbeat just as clearly as I can hear his. I feel him shift his legs, resting them on mine, and all of his weight is on me, his groin pressed intimately against my ass, his cock growing harder each second. I shift against him, raising my ass and for a second he stops breathing.

"I love the way you feel on top of me," I tell him.

I feel his smile against my back in answer.

We lay like that for I don’t know how long, sharing body heat, breath. I forgot what day it was, where we were, everything except for the feel of him pressed against me. All too soon, he sat up, breaking our connection. I felt him twist and stretch, sore from taking care of me.

"How about we switch positions?" I asked him.

"You don’t have to..." he said, unconvincingly.

Looking over my shoulder at him, "I want to."

He slid off my thighs, his knees bent, trying to hide his obvious erection, and I rolled over slightly, aware of my own hard cock and the small towel draped over my hip, barely concealing me from his sight. Seeing me hesitate, he took in the whole picture, and quickly lay down beside me.

I sat up, leaving he towel behind and took my position on him, my heavy cock shifting to nestle in the valley of his flannel covered ass. He clenched his butt muscles for a brief second and then relaxed. He wasn’t a nervous school girl, but he was a man who wanted and was wanted in return. It’s one thing to desire and another to be desired. And right now the want and desire I felt ran clear to my toes and just as strong as a river after a heavy rain.

I let my love course through my veins and flow out of my fingertips as I massaged away his tension. At one point, I know he purred, that’s how relaxed I had him. I savored every touch of his skin, the way it felt in my hand, under my thighs. I wanted to kiss every inch I had touched and then do it all over again. I never wanted it to end.

His voice cut through my fog, "Lay on top of me."

Slowly I eased my heavy body on to his sturdy frame, and he accepted my weight easily.

"All of you."

Lifting my legs to rest on his, my body was completely on top of him. I moved the hair off his neck and softly kissed the pale skin. He took my hand and kissed my knuckles, his breath warming my skin. I let myself take him in, one sense at a time, fill myself with him. That’s when I felt it. His lips were moving against my palm. I strained my hearing to see if I could pick up what he was saying.

"...want you so much...need you...love you, Jim, I do...wish I could say it...never want to lose you..."

I turned my hearing down, knowing this was private between his heart and soul, and as much as I wanted to hear those things, he would tell me when he was ready. I straightened up slowly, loathe to leave the warmth of his skin but knowing I was too heavy to stay on him for long. I stayed on his thighs, my hands resting on his ass, enjoying its firmness.

"Jim?"

"Yeah?"

"Can we," he started, his voice cracking, "can we try this face to face?"

I...wow! He has to know...

"I’m naked here, Chief..." And very hard.

"Please?"

How can I resist him? He has to know how much I want him, the evidence is poking him in the ass. Unsure that this is a good idea, but not able to tell him why, I lift off him so he can turn over. His eyes remain closed as I resettle myself on top of him, our cocks now pressed together, hardness and heat meeting for the first time. I vow not to move, but he takes that decision out of my hands.

His hips thrust up against mine, our erections rubbing together, his flannel no barrier to the quivering sensations that sweep through me. I shudder above him, unable to pull away or tell my own hips not to thrust back. The second thrust is more powerful; we’ve found our rhythm. I can no longer hold my head up, so I lower it and kiss his parted lips. His breath is coming out in little gasps, and he is clinging to me like a lifesaver. I have to stop. I can’t stop. I have to stop.

"Blair," I manage to gasp out.

He slows his actions, and I draw in a ragged breath. One more thrust of his hips, and I know I would have come all over him. I take a minute to look at him, face flushed, lips parted, hair wild about him. He’s my ultimate fantasy. Trying to get a handle on my desire, I begin reciting basketball stats, criminal procedure, Shakespeare plays from college, anything to forget about the delicious pleasure of my cock against Blair’s flannel covered one.

"Jim?"

"We have to stop this, Chief."

"Why? It feels so good," he said, squeezing my ass.

"BLAIR!"

Smiling wickedly, Blair looked all of sixteen, dumb and full of come. It took everything I had to lift my body off of his and wrap the discarded towel around my waist. He sat up, not hiding his flannel covered erection from my sight this time. He wanted me to see how much he desired me. He stood up slowly, almost teasingly, and I couldn’t pull my eyes away.

"I’m going to bed, Jim."

My eyes must have flickered towards the bathroom because his next words hit me in the gut.

"I’m not gonna go hide in the shower and jerk off quietly. I’m gonna lay in my bed, and touch myself and wish it was you. I’m not gonna be quiet about it, and when I come, I’m gonna yell your name."

I can’t breathe.

He started for his bedroom, stopping in the doorway, "I want you to listen. I want you to come with me."

His door closed with a soft click.

OH MY GOD! I...I.... I listen in quickly and hear the flannel boxers slide down his softly furred legs. Jumping up, I wince at the sudden movement, but ignore it as I make my way upstairs.

I lie across my bed, hearing stretched to its limits, smell following quickly. I can hear him running his hands up and down his body, stopping to tweak his nipples and twist his nipple ring. The small groan shoots through me like an arrow through the heart. I hear his hands card through his chest hair and remember what it felt like under my own hands.

His breathing changes as he grips himself. I wish I could see him, but know that I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from touching. I mimic his actions stroke for stroke, matching each gasp with one of my own. He’s holding both of us on the brink of an explosive orgasm, and then, finally, oblivion. My name reverberates in my head, his voice raspy. I smell his spilt semen as well as my own, and long to taste him.

I clean myself off with my towel and slip under the covers. My body is physically drained and I am emotionally spent. I listen in to him one last time, to make sure he’s all right.

His soft words sing through my veins, "I think I love you."

***

Week #4-Mid-October

I promise you that love won’t be easy,

I promise you there’ll be times apart,

But I swear that it comes from my heart

When I promise you’re the only one for me.

--Allure

***

*Sunday*

I woke up smelling coffee, experiencing the weirdest sense of déjà vu, remembering last Sunday. Hearing the familiar tread on the stairs, I roll over and watch Blair walk up the steps, a coffee cup in his hand.

He hands it to me, and I savor the combined aroma of the coffee and him. He has already showered and smells clean and fresh, like the most tantalizing treat. I want to lick him from head to toe; not a good thing to think about when the man you fantasized about the night before and came all over yourself thinking about, is looking at you like he’s ready to jump into bed and eat you alive.

"Morning," he says.

"Yeah," I agree, not able to say more, sipping my coffee.

"I made breakfast."

Smiling at him, "What? I don’t get it in bed this morning."

I knew I was in trouble as soon as I saw the twinkle in his eyes.

"If I gave ‘it’ to you in bed, we would never get to the game today."

The game! I forgot!

I jumped out of bed, naked and hard, again. He didn’t look away this time. No, in fact, he looked, stared, and I felt my cock twitch under the scrutiny.

He whistled, long and loud, as I brushed past him on the way down the stairs, his hand caressing my ass.

I heard him sigh raggedly and then mumble under his breath, "Oh yeah, I’d love to give it to you."

I spent the rest of the day half-hard thinking over that proposition. Oh man, did I think about it!

*Monday*

I drove Blair to school and then headed to the station to finish up the paperwork from Saturday. Today was my day off, but paperwork doesn’t care one way or the other. It didn’t take too long, and I was home around lunch time with a bag from Wonderburger.

After hiding the evidence, I grabbed my tools and head downstairs. One of the few things my dad taught me was how to change the oil in a car, and every time I do it, I think about him.

Lately I’ve thought about him a lot, wishing that there was some way to go back and change things from the past, things I couldn’t control because I was just a kid. I wish I knew where my mother is, if she is even alive. A long time ago, I gave up on having a normal family, of finding love and happiness. I locked away those feelings and never let them see the light of day, but opening myself to Blair has opened doors that I thought were sealed shut. Hell, Carolyn was never this close to me, and we were married.

I wonder how my dad would react if I were to show up on his doorstep, or if I were to invite him to dinner. The same goes for Stephen. Maybe I will.

Blair called a couple of hours later and told me that he was finished for the day. He was waiting outside for me, enjoying the sunshine, enjoying life. I couldn’t help but kiss him as soon as he climbed into the truck, tasting him, inhaling him, filling my soul with his spirit and love. I pulled back from him, seconds before I fell into him completely.

"You had Wonderburger for lunch, didn’t you?" he asked.

I laugh, "Who’s the Sentinel here, anyway, Darwin?"

I drive us home slowly, enjoying every second with him, listening to the details of his day. He convinces me to stop for pizza for dinner. Gino’s is the only pizza place in town that doesn’t deliver, and that’s because they know people will come get it. That’s how good it is. It only takes twenty minutes, and I figure this is a good time to spring the idea of dinner with my family on him.

"I’ve been thinking about inviting my dad and Stephen over for dinner."

"Really?" he asks, a bit shocked. "Why now? I mean, it’s great, but why now?"

"I can’t really explain it, Chief. It just feels like something I should do."

"Okay," he says, smiling reassuringly at me. "When do you want to do it? I can work late that night—,"

"No, Blair, you don’t understand. I want you there, need you there for me. I want to tell them about us."

"Whoa!"

"You don’t want them to know?" I ask hesitantly.

"I didn’t think you’d want them to know, Jim. I don’t think they’re gonna be very accepting of you and me together."

Shrugging my shoulders, "Then they won’t be part of our family. I love you, and nothing they can do or say will stop that."

His smile was so bright, so happy, that I almost kissed him right there in Gino’s. As it was, he leaned forward, resting his forearm against mine, and it was enough. For now.

*Wednesday*

Oh shit, oh shit! What have I done? When did I get to be an idiot? What the hell was I thinking inviting my dad and my brother for dinner? I can hear Blair in his room (his ‘hopefully not for too much longer’ room) meditating. I wish it were that easy for me. Oh, how I wish I could chant this away.

The lasagna is in the oven, the garlic bread is ready to go in, the salad is in the fridge, there’s fresh homemade dressing for it chilling also, the wine is breathing, the table is set and they are going to be here in five minutes. Four. Oh shit, oh shit!

Blair finally finishes his meditation and comes out and hugs me for support. His arms are the only comfort I need, and I hug him back, tightly, unwilling to let go even when I hear the elevator ascend. Stephen is telling Dad about an investment. Show time.

"They’re here," I whisper to him.

"Everything’s gonna be okay," he reassures me.

I wait until they knock before I open the door, no sense freaking them out right from the start. We all shake hands and act like perfect gentlemen. The timer buzzes when the bread is done, and we all take our places around the table.

Blair’s lasagna is wonderful, and we all tell him so. I squeeze his hand in thanks and notice the look from Stephen. I nod my head at him, and his eyes widen a bit. He glances at Dad, but our father seems more interested in his dinner. There’s a bunch of small talk, nothing too heavy, nothing to upset the balance.

After dinner, Blair and I quickly clean the kitchen. Stephen puts the leftover lasagna in plastic, and Blair insists that he take some when he leaves. I can see Dad taking in the whole place. It’s the first time he’s ever been here.

Blair brings the Chocolate chip cheesecake over to the coffee table, and Stephen follows with the coffee and cups. After dishing out the delectable dessert, Blair sits down beside me, our thighs touching, and we eat in peace.

I guess it’s our shared coffee cup that first caught my dad’s attention. His eyes drill into me, reminding me of the look from years ago when I had disappointed him. Blair is laughing at something Stephen had said and I turn to look at him. His eyes, the love, acceptance, desire, all of it is there in his eyes, and I can no more stop myself from kissing him, than I can deny the truth any longer. I kiss him.

"Jimmy?"

I pull away from the softness of Blair’s lips, and turn to face my father.

"Dad, Blair and I are together. He’s my partner, in all ways."

Stephen poured himself another cup of coffee and sat back to watch the fireworks, but there aren’t any. In fact, for a brief minute, I consider the possibility that my father might be having a stroke. When he finally speaks, his voice is calm, which actually scared me.

"When did this happen, Jimmy?"

"Recently."

"So he made you into a..." his voice trailed off.

"The word you’re looking for, Dad, is homosexual, and no, he didn’t make me into anything. I’ve always—,"

"I don’t want to hear it!" William Ellison said sharply. "This is just some mid-life crisis or something."

"If it makes you feel better to think that, then go ahead, but it doesn’t change the facts."

I couldn’t sit there any longer. Carrying the leftover cheesecake back into the kitchen, I heard Stephen behind me. I hoped that whatever he had to say would be short, I was starting to get a headache. I turned to face him; his eyes, so much like my own, were serious.

"Are you happy?"

There was no sarcasm or facetiousness in his words, he truly wanted to know.

"Yes," I said, smiling. "Blair makes me happier than I’ve been in a long time."

"I’m glad, Jim. You deserve it."

"Thanks, Stephen, it means a lot to me."

I sliced the remaining cheesecake and wrapped a piece for him to take to go along with the lasagna.

"Although, now I’m the one who’ll have to have the heirs!"

Laughing, "Such a hardship for you!"

He laughed and then headed for the bathroom. I turned my attention back to Blair and my dad. Dad was standing at the balcony doors, his posture so similar to my own that for an instant, I could see myself standing in that same place thirty years from now. Blair had moved to stand behind him, pretty much in the same way he does with me, and I could hear the faint rumble of his deep voice. Turning up my hearing, I listened in.

"...your son means everything to me. My life is with him, and I will never leave him, never hurt him. I just wanted you to know that."

He turned then, my Blair, and smiled at me, knowing I was listening. Stephen came out of the bathroom at that moment.

"Stephen, are you ready to go?"

Stephen looked at us, and then nodded to our father. Obstinacy is only one of the things that runs in our family. We were silent as they slipped their coats on. Dad left without a word, but Stephen paused for a minute, and I handed him his leftovers.

"Jim, I’d like to have lunch with you later this week."

"Sure, I’ll call you tomorrow."

I shook his hand and then he was gone. Closing the door behind him, I sighed heavily.

"That went well," Blair said softly, leaning against me.

"Could have been worse, babe."

"You think he’ll come around?" he asked, meaning my father.

"Who knows?"

We curled up on the couch together, his body blanketing mine, and savored the closeness. Every day, with every passing minute and hour, Blair and I were getting closer and closer, and nothing that anyone could say or do was going to come between us. Our love for one another was a tangible thing, albeit fragile, but we had time on our side.

*Thursday*

After a quick dinner of grilled chicken and veggies, Blair and I headed out to do some shopping—mattress shopping. This came about because of a long talk on the way home from Seattle on Sunday. The short version is that the mattress that I have has a lot of history, and when we finally get together, Blair wants us to start out on new ground, so to speak. Simple, right?

So, here we are looking at mattresses. Who knew there were so many different kinds?

A salesman got a look at us and knew he was gonna be making a nice commission. I feel like telling him to just back off until we’re ready, but Blair seems to know just what to ask and seems interested in the responses. My professor probably spent a day researching mattresses so he’d know enough to snow the salesman.

Blair has narrowed down the choices to three mattresses, all with just enough firmness and comfort, and now it’s time to take them for a test drive, so to speak. I’m impressed when the salesman doesn’t swallow his own tongue when Blair insists that we both lay on the bed since we’re gonna be sharing it.

The first problem is when Blair and I both try and get into the left side of the bed.

"But this is the side I sleep on," he insisted.

"No, this is the side I sleep on. It’s closer to the stairs," I countered.

The salesman made a quick exit, and we both laughed.

"Think he’s figured it out?" Blair asks.

"The only thing he’s figured out is that we’ve never actually slept together."

Nodding, "Good point. You know...we could try that, just to see..."

"A test?" I asked, smiling.

"An experiment."

I gesture to the bed, and Blair climbs on the right side, and I lie down beside him on the left. We get comfortable, me on my back and him on his side, facing me.

"Is that how you normally sleep?" I ask, having only seen him asleep on his back before.

"I usually start out this way and end up all over the bed."

"Thanks for the warning," I said, laughing.

"But not when I sleep with other..." Blair said softly, his eyes downcast.

Lifting Blair’s chin, Jim softly kissed his lips, "How are you going to sleep with me, Blair?"

"I’m gonna be all over you," he said, his voice husky and deep, sending shivers down my spine.

"You promise?" I can’t help but ask.

He nods, "Maybe we should try this experiment at home."

"Sleep together?"

"Yeah," he says, his voice quiet, thoughtful.

"Sounds like a plan to me," I tell him, squeezing his hand, "but let’s go buy this mattress first."

"Right behind you," he laughs, taking another step towards forever.

*Friday*

I don’t know how long I’ve been awake watching Blair sleep. He’s in my bed, our bed. Last night, we kissed and then rolled over and went to sleep together. Sleeping beside Blair. Is this how all addictions start?

His warm body is pressed against me, our legs entwined and our hands clasped. I’ve never slept this closely with anyone, not even Carolyn. She always demanded her space and never let me get very close to her while she was asleep. For that matter, she never let me get that close when she was awake. But Blair, my Guide, has invaded my personal space, has from the beginning, and I’m enjoying every minute of the invasion.

He wakes up by degrees, a bit at a time, and I watch every step. Finally, his sapphire blue eyes open, and he smiles impishly at me.

"Morning," he says, his voice raspy from sleep.

"A good morning," I tell him and then lean in for my first kiss of the day, but he turns his head.

"Morning breath," he mumbles.

I can’t help but laugh. Doesn’t he realize that we’re probably gonna be sharing a lot less palatable body fluids when we make love? Guess he hasn’t really thought about that part of our relationship.

I shift against him, rubbing our morning erections together, catching his attention.

"Oh..." he says, closing his eyes and rubbing back against me.

"Blair, babe, love of my life."

"Hmm?"

"Morning breath is the last thing you need to worry about."

He thrust against me two more times before his eyes popped open, the meaning of what I had said sinking in.

"Oh," he said, softly, "you mean..."

"I mean," I said, nodding.

He flushed in recognition and knowledge.

"And I can’t wait to taste all of your flavors, babe," I tell him, finally claiming his lips as my own and starting the morning right.

Many kisses and lots of groping later, I finally got to work. Paperwork was waiting, as it always was, and I worked my way through a lot of it before lunch. I was meeting Stephen for a late lunch. It felt really good to know that he was happy for me and accepting of my choices in life. I only hoped that one day, my dad would feel the same.

We met at Casa Gonzales at two and gorged ourselves on authentic Mexican food, laughing and talking about all the changes in our lives, making up for the years we had been estranged. Stephen told me about his current girlfriend, Mary, and how close they were getting. He wanted us to get together sometime soon so Blair and I could meet her, which made me feel really good. In fact, the entire day, from waking up with Blair in my arms to being a big brother again, made me feel like I was walking on clouds.

After lunch, we stood by our cars and talked some more. There were a lot of years to catch up on. He handed me a small envelope. Looking curiously at him, I open it and pulled out two tickets to "Phantom of the Opera" for Saturday night. Stephen just smiled when I thanked him. My little brother. Life was good.

*Saturday*

Another Saturday working without Blair by my side. Blair, my love. I left him sleeping in our bed this morning, curled around my pillow in the middle of the bed under a pile of blankets. He looked so beautiful and warm and content that I seriously considered calling in sick and spending all day curled around him, never letting him out of my arms, but I’m a practical man, I’ll save those sick days for when I can make love to him.

I suppose Blair could have come to work with me, except that the mattress, our mattress is being delivered sometime this afternoon, and I know he has work to do. Besides, we’ve got the play tonight. Blair has never seen "Phantom", so it’s gonna be like seeing it for the first time for me. I can hardly wait until my shift is over.

The day passed slowly, but at least without any major catastrophes. When I get home, Blair is already dressed in his good suit, looking completely edible. I grab a quick shower and dress in the clothes Blair has laid out for me. Tease! He put silk boxers with my suit. I let my mind drift for a minute, hoping that I’ll find out first hand if he has matching silk ones under his suit. It’s gonna be a great night.

We stop for dinner at a small bistro near the theater, noticing several other couples dressed as formally, probably also attending the play. We talk about our respective days. He regales me with the story of the delivery of the mattress and the delivery men’s accents. Then his voice changed, deepened, when he told me about putting the new sheets on the bed, the sheets we picked out together. Our sheets. Who would have thought talking about sheets would get me so hard I thought I was going to tip the table over? And I could see, smell, feel, hear, the reaction Blair was having to telling the story. It was exciting him just as much as it was me. My head was spinning.

Somehow we managed to make it into the theater and find our seats. I was still finding it hard to concentrate on anything other than Blair, and hoped that I could calm myself enough to enjoy the play, and enjoy watching Blair experience the play for the first time.

Blair’s enjoyment of the performance was infectious. I tried to remember how I felt the first time I had seen it, but I couldn’t remember being this happy and excited. I sensed Blair’s mood change long before he grabbed my hand. His face was turned towards me, with so much love in his eyes. I heard the sung words from the stage clearly in my head:

//Say you feel the way I do

//That’s all I ask of you

//Anywhere you go, let me go too

//That’s all I ask of you

He leaned forward to whisper in my ear, "Can we go home?"

Confused, worried, I asked, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I just want to go home now."

"Don’t you want to see the rest?" I asked, still wondering what was wrong.

"Yeah, I want to see the rest," he answered, his voice deepening. "I love you, Jim."

He said it!

Unable to control or stop the smile that broke out on my face, "I love you, too, Blair."

His smile widened, "I want to go home, Jim."

"Okay," I agree, taking his hand and leading him out of the theater.

We ride home in silence, needing no other words. We are going home to our future. Whatever else comes our way, we can handle because we’re together. Blair loves me, that’s all I need to know.

***

Epilogue

***

Six Months later—Late April

From the depths of my soul,

It’s beyond my control,

I’ve waited so long to say this to you,

If you’re asking do I love you this much,

I do.

--Mark Wills

***

*Thursday*

You have to know it’s a special occasion when Blair actually agrees to cook steaks. We’re celebrating our anniversary, and we’re having company. Stephen and Mary are coming for dinner, as well as our dad. I was really surprised when he accepted the offer, but we’ve been on speaking terms for a while now. He even came over Christmas day and brought us a gift. I don’t think he’s quite come to terms with us being together, but at least he isn’t openly hostile towards Blair.

Naomi was also here with us at Christmas for a while, but as usual, she stayed long enough to make us dinner, tell a few stories and then be on her way. She was really happy for us, and that was gift enough.

Stephen and Mary shared a quiet Christmas Eve with us. In fact, we see them almost every week. I’m really enjoying the new relationship with my brother. It means a lot to me to finally have that closeness after so many years apart.

One surprise visitor over the holidays was Jac. She came by New Year’s Eve and brought us a bottle of very good champagne. We invited her in, but she said she had plans and had to rush off. She was getting on with her life, and we both wished her all the happiness in the world. Life goes on.

A knock at the door startled me out of my reflection. Blair was already there, letting our guests in. Coats were hung up and greetings were issued and everything was feeling perfect. Stephen and I grilled the steaks while Blair and Mary talked with my dad. I liked watching Dad listen to Blair talk, and I don’t mean pretend listen, but actually listen to his opinion and give it measure. I don’t think he even does that with Stephen.

We finally sit down together for dinner. The laughing and talking continue, and it pulls at my heart. I can’t even put into words what this means to me, to finally have the family I’ve always longed for, and someone who loves me unconditionally. My heart is full.

Surprisingly, Stephen and Blair clean up the kitchen, and I know my little brother is trying to wheedle out Blair’s secret recipe for salad dressing, but he won’t get it. Hell, even I don’t know all the ingredients.

Seeing Dad standing on the balcony, I go out to stand with him. Making peace with him hasn’t been easy, but it’s been worth it. He looks over his shoulder at me and smiles that hereditary half smile. I watch him reach into his pocket and pull out a bundle of letters, and hand then to me.

The writing is as familiar as the scent. My Mother.

"The last one was sent right after you were presumed dead," he said softly, clearly for my ears alone. "She was devastated when she thought you were dead."

"Do you know where she is?" I ask, heart in my throat.

"No, the last address is over ten years old," he says sadly.

Ten years. A lot could happen in ten years.

"Do you think she heard about my rescue, that I’m alive?" I ask, concerned that she might have never heard and might still think one of her children is dead.

"I don’t know, Jimmy," he says sounding older than his years.

I wonder if he still loves her, but that’s not really a question I can ask right now. We’re taking fragile steps, and I don’t want to do anything to upset the balance right now. The only thing I can do for him is slip my arm around his shoulder and offer him my strength and love. Sometimes that’s all a child can do for a parent.

*Friday*

"That all?" I ask the sleepy figure standing in the kitchen.

He nods at me over his coffee cup, and I heft sleeping bags and carry them downstairs. It’s too early for him, and for me, and if he could take the coffee intravenously I think he would.

It’s still dark out; what do you expect at four in the morning? Simon insisted that we had to leave early to make sure we get the best fishing spot. I personally think he just likes ordering me around on my off time.

I see Blair heading towards me, and I can’t help but smile at the sight. His hair is wild, untamed, and he’s covered in numerous layers of flannel, and his eyes are at half mast, but he is the most beautiful creature I have ever seen. I consider myself the luckiest man on earth to have him in my life.

We pull up in front of Simon’s right on time and see his familiar car in the driveway and another familiar looking Suburban right behind it.

Oh, didn’t I tell you that Simon has been dating Jac? Yep, that’s right. Simon has been dating Jac. They ran into each other one day at the grocery store and got to talking. One thing led to another, and they started dating. It was kinda funny when he asked Blair if it was okay for him to date her, but Simon’s a good guy and he deserves to be happy just as much as Jac or Blair and I do. We’ve had dinner with them a couple of times, and while it was a little awkward at first, things have really smoothed out. They seem happy with each other.

After transferring all of our stuff into the Suburban, we set off. I’m surprised when Jac lets Blair drive, but when I see her climb into the back seat with Simon, I understand. Blair and I just smile at one another and hold hands for most of the trip.

Hours later, after a breakfast stop and a hike to find the perfect spot, we set up our tents. Two tents. Two tents a good distance away from each other. Things have worked out the way they were meant to. I believe that. Jeez, I’m starting to sound like Blair. Is that bad?

Speaking of my Guide, he’s been rubbing up against me all day, trying to get my attention, and believe me, he has it. Just a few minutes ago, he grabbed my ass when he ‘stumbled’. Blair is not clumsy, no matter what kind of image he portrays. I look around for him, but don’t see him immediately. Simon and Jac are getting their fishing gear together so they can catch dinner.

I watch them go, and then turn up my hearing so I can find my Guide. Bingo. He’s heading down river, talking to himself.

"...find me, lover...want you to make love to me out here...want you so much..."

I don’t need to hear anymore. Stopping long enough to grab the lube from my bag, I set out to track down my prey. He’s left a clear trail, and I lengthen my stride to get to him as quickly as possible. His discourse is still ringing in my ears, and he’s picking up steam.

"...want to feel you inside me...want you to taste me...want you to ride me hard..."

I finally catch up to him, all the breath leaving my chest. His chattering which had turned me on so much, had covered the sounds of him getting undressed. He’s leaning against a tree, his arousal scenting the air, and I have never wanted him more.

"Blair," I growl at him.

His knowing smile gets me every time.

I rip my tee shirt off and throw it over my head, my eyes never leaving his. His gaze lowers, taking in the bulge in my pants. I stroke myself over the heavy denim, and a small moan escapes his parted lips. He slides his hand down to grasp his own hard cock, and this time the moan is mine. Quickly, but carefully, I get rid of my jeans and pull him into my arms, against me. Nothing else in the world feels this good against my skin.

"What do you want, babe?" I whisper in his ear.

"I want you!"

"Can do."

I cradle his body against mine, and I lower us to the hard ground. His hands are all over me, and I reciprocate with much pleasure. I know his body as well as I know my own, I know how to touch him to make his body sing, and I enjoy that knowledge, use it to my best advantage.

Sucking on one nipple while I twist the ring in the other, I watch him writhe sensuously under me, and I hasten my journey down his luscious body. I never knew navels were such an erogenous zone, but for Blair they are. One time I made him come just from tonguing him there.

I slide my hands down his lightly furred legs and then back up, just barely grazing the hair, causing goose bumps to rise on his pale skin. He is the most sensual lover I have ever had, the best, most giving; he makes me a better lover. Yes, I have fallen into the sappy zone.

When I move between his legs, they part widely for me, welcoming me in. I stroke his cock slowly, teasing him a little. Dipping my head, I lick at his balls, lavish attention on them before sliding my tongue lower, tasting all his secrets. His body arches up to mine, driving my tongue deeper into him.

"Don’t tease," he begs.

As much as I love to drive him to the edge again and again, withholding his release until he’s mindless with ecstasy, I know he can’t take the teasing today. Blair wants to be fucked, and I am just the man to do it!

"Roll over," I order.

He’s quick to comply, aching to comply. Once he’s on his hands and knees in front of me, I have to take a deep breath and calm down. I want to make this so good for him. Grabbing the discarded lube, I squeeze out a generous amount and slick up my throbbing cock. Tossing the tube aside, I slide a finger inside his waiting hole. He thrusts back against me, easily accepting the first finger, wanting more. Two fingers go in smoothly, and he cries out as I rub his prostate.

"Please, please..."

Unable to hold back any longer, I push against his opening, and the head of my cock slides in. Pausing to breathe again, I scream when he pushes back against me, fully sheathing me inside him.

"Oh god, oh god..." I chant.

"Do it, Jim, fuck me hard. I want it. I can take it."

His words inflame me, and I slide out of him and then slam back in, nailing his prostate in the process. His screams join mine as our bodies continue at a blinding pace. I can’t stop, he feels so good, so hot. Our hands entwine on his leaking cock, stroking him towards an explosive conclusion.

I feel the first hot splatters over my fist and then the walls of his hot hole clench around me, sucking my orgasm out of me. I succumb to the absolute pleasure and scream his name as I pulse inside him. Spent, still buried inside his warmth, I lower us to the ground and cradle him against me.

For long minutes we stay like that, our heartbeats slowing, our breathing returning to normal. His sigh of contentment makes me smile.

"That was so fucking hot, Jim."

"If it gets any better, I’m not gonna survive it," I tell him, kissing his neck.

He laughs and squeezes my hand.

A gun shot echoes through the forest.

"What the hell?" Blair says as I jump up and reach for my discarded jeans.

Turning up my hearing, I assess the danger. Laughing, I shake my head, looking at Blair staring at me in confusion.

"Jac shot another snake," I tell him.

He laughs, and then declares, "I am *never* going camping with her again!"

The end!