Hearth - Lyn

Jim glanced over at the sleeping man beside him and smiled. Blair had curled himself into a tight ball on the seat, his knees hunched up almost under his chin and his hands wrapped tightly around them. His hair hung in saturated ringlets about his face, oozing a constant dribble of icy water down his cheek. The young man shivered once violently, then muttered softly and lay down, his wet head now in Jim's lap.

Jim brushed the lank curls from Blair's eyes and frowned at the chill of his lover's skin. He grimaced at the frigid sensation now seeping into the denim covering his groin and quickly dialed down his sense of touch. Carding his fingers through Blair's curls, as he steered his vehicle through the steady drizzle, he mused upon the strange turns his life had taken.

The detective's sentinel abilities were not something that Jim regarded as unusual anymore. Not since Blair Sandburg, anthropologist, police observer, shaman, and light of Jim's life had appeared in the exam room at County General Hospital. Jim had gone there in the hope of finding an answer for his seemingly heightened senses and occasional lapses of consciousness. The doctors had been unable to come up with anything untoward in his tests and as Jim had been about to get dressed, a casually dressed young man with long curly hair, earrings adorning one ear and glasses perched on the end of a pert nose entered the room. He thrust a business card under Jim's nose and then disappeared so quickly that the detective didn't even have time to find out how the stranger knew what was wrong with him.

Initially, Jim had been tempted to throw the card away, but then his curiosity and desperation urged him toward Rainier University, where he discovered the strange young man from the hospital taking up office in a small basement storeroom. Within minutes of meeting Blair Sandburg, Jim had thrown him up against a wall in sheer frustration at the anthropologist's bizarre claims that Jim was a sentinel, a throwback to a pre-civilized breed of tribal guardian. It wasn't a label that sat easily on Jim's shoulders, but within moments of that inauspicious meeting, Blair threw himself into the path of a garbage truck while Jim was in the throes of a zone out, as Blair called it, and Jim had a change of heart.

It wasn't an earth-shattering revelation, though Jim readily admitted his attraction to the handsome young man. The detective had discovered his bisexuality while in the army rangers and was comfortable enough with his image. He'd been married briefly, but unhappily before Blair happened along. The relationship had appeared to become more than a friendship soon after Jim had allowed Blair to move in with him, when the anthropologist's warehouse apartment had blown up along with a drug lab next door. Blair was a trouble magnet, and strife appeared to follow him wherever he went. If Jim had any concerns that working with the police would put the young man in danger, his fears were allayed by the warehouse incident. Danger appeared to be Blair Sandburg's middle name.

Blair had promised Jim that he would be out of the loft in a week, but as the time for him to leave drew nearer, Jim found himself anticipating the day with a sense of dread. He'd casually, he'd thought, suggested to Blair that he stay on and share the apartment, and Blair had accepted the offer with alacrity, then grabbed Jim up in a bear hug that had rapidly progressed to a sweet exploration of mouths and bodies. Eventually, Jim had taken Blair upstairs and pulled him onto his bed, their bed. They'd made slow, passionate love and then and there, Jim had given his heart and soul to his lover, and felt himself made whole.

With a sigh of relief, the detective saw the apartment building ahead of him and pulled his vehicle into a park out front. Home at last. Blair made it home, Jim decided, or more precisely, Jim and Blair together made it a home. He smiled as he remembered his birthday the week before.

He'd come home from work exhausted from an all day session in court, his mind numb from the defense attorney's constant attacks on his evidence, always wary of alerting anyone to the secret of his heightened senses. As he opened the door, he remembered that he'd promised Blair they'd go out to dinner, and cursed softly. All he wanted to do was have a hot shower and go to bed. The apartment was in darkness when he entered, save for a small group of candles centered on the coffee table. He was about to call Blair out and berate him for leaving candles lit and unattended when he noticed the slip of paper resting against a small ceramic pot. As he picked it up and read it, a smile curved his lips and he felt his exhaustion flow away.

Welcome home it read. Happy Birthday. Come upstairs and see what I've got for you.

Jim followed the trail of red rose petals up the stairs and stopped dry-mouthed at the top. There were more candles here, casting a soft glow about the room, and an ice bucket held a chilled bottle of champagne. Blair reclined on the bed, naked, his skin golden in the candlelight, his dark chest and pubic hair a rich comparison.

"I hope you don't mind," Blair had whispered. "Thought you'd rather eat in."

Jim raised an eyebrow as he lifted a candy from the box by the bed. "Chocolate?"

"Carob," Blair admitted, sounding almost apologetic. "If you think I'm going to let you clog up your arteries, even on your birthday..."

"You're no fun," Jim said.

"Sure I am," Blair countered, opening his arms. "Get over here and see."

Jim did, and Blair was. It was the best birthday present Jim had ever received. Jim grinned at the memory, feeling his erection rise in response. He shoved the alluring memory aside and climbed out, crossing quickly to the passenger side of the truck.

Opening the door, he leaned inside and patted Blair's thigh firmly. When there was no response, he picked up a foot and shook it, groaning as an icy trickle of water streamed from the inside of the boot and further soaked the seat.

"Ouch! Don't!" Blair reached down and batted at Jim's hands irritably.

"We're home, Chief. Time to wake up."

Blair moaned and then sat up, shoving his wet hair out of his eyes, then looking around owlishly. Jim extended a helping hand and Blair climbed out of the cab, grimacing as his feet hit the ground.

"What's the matter with your foot?" Jim asked, grabbing Blair by the elbow as his balance wavered.

"Twisted it," Blair answered. He began to hobble toward the front door, dragging Jim along with him. "It hurts."

Jim pushed the door open and ushered Blair through toward the elevator. He mentally cheered as he saw that the out-of-order sign from that morning was gone. Blair was small but sturdy and Jim didn't relish carrying his lover up three flights of stairs. "I'll take a look at your ankle when you get out of the bath," he said as he pushed the floor button.

Blair nodded and leaned back against the wall of the elevator, his eyes drifting closed once more. The sudden stop at the third floor jarred him awake and he shuffled out into the hallway, resting his forehead against Jim's shoulder as the detective fumbled for his keys.

Pushing the front door open, Jim helped Blair limp over to the couch and lowered him down to the seat before hurrying off to run hot water into the tub. He called Blair in and had him sit on the toilet seat while he helped him strip off his clothes. Blair was almost boneless with fatigue which didn't help matters when it came to getting the young man naked.

Jim helped Blair step into the tub and smiled at the ecstatic sigh that escaped his lover's lips as he sank into the warm water. Blair closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the edge of the tub, submerging himself to his neck in the soothing heat. Jim grinned at the blissful expression on his lover's face, and turned to leave, then went back and tapped the sleepy young man on the cheek. "Don't fall asleep in there."

Blair shook his head, then reached up and grasped Jim's hand. "Get in with me?"

"Not tonight, sweetheart. I'm going to get a fire started and get you some dry clothes."

Blair nodded, then hooked a sudsy finger at Jim, beckoning the detective closer. As Jim bent his head, Blair planted a soapy kiss on his cheek. "Love you, Jim."

Jim smiled. "I love you too, sweetheart."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you love me?"

Jim thought a moment. "Because you're you," he said finally. "Because there is no one else like you, and because you love me."

Blair opened one eye and blinked. "That's it?" he asked. "No heartfelt admissions of undying love and admiration."

"This is Jim Ellison speaking, not William Shakespeare," Jim answered dryly. "Get the message, Sandburg?"

Blair grinned widely, then sneezed explosively. "I got it, Ellison."

Jim gave his lover a whack on the head. "Don't be too long in there, you'll turn into a prune."

Blair simply smiled again and sank back so that only his head showed above the bubbles. Jim shook his head in mock exasperation and went to hunt up dry sweats for his lover. He had the fire lit and the room was toasty warm when he heard the bathroom door open. He looked up as Blair exited the room in a billow of steam. The anthropologist limped over to the couch and lowered himself onto the seat, raising an eyebrow at the pillows and blankets piled on the floor next to the fire.

"What's all this," he asked, waving a hand toward the bedding.

Jim pressed a palm to Blair's forehead and concentrated a moment. "Your temperature is still a little low. I thought we could lay here for a while until you warm up." He waved an arm at the coffee table. "I made you some tea."

"Thanks," Blair smiled.

"Before you get too comfortable though, let me take a look at your ankle," Jim said, rising to his feet. Blair lay back obediently on the couch and lifted his right leg. Jim pushed up the sweat pants and felt carefully around the joints and bones. "You've gave it a good twist," he told his lover. "There's quite a bit of swelling and heat here, no breaks, thank God." He pulled the pant leg down and straightened up. "I'll get you an icepack. Why don't you lie down in front of the fire?"

Blair nodded and sat up, then lowered himself to the floor. Jim was back in moments with a commercial ice pack that he'd wrapped in a towel and bound it around Blair's ankle. He laughed when Blair shivered. "Sorry. Keep it on for twenty minutes, all right?"

Blair nodded and reached for his tea. "Feels weird, that's all. Warm top half and frozen bottom half."

"Want me to warm up the bottom half for you when you take that pack off?" Jim offered.

Blair blew on the steam from his teacup and watched it twirl lazily into the air. "Better still, why don't you come down here and keep the top half warm while we wait?"

Jim pretended to mull it over. "I think that's doable," he said finally as he sat next to his lover.

Blair finished his tea while Jim recounted his experiences in court. "Do you think the defense was suspicious of your evidence?" Blair asked.

Jim shook his head. "I don't think it was that. I think he was just winding me up, hoping I'd make a mistake or fall apart. Anyway, the DA's objection put a stop to it when he started asking the same question over and over."

"I'm glad," Blair answered. "Though it might come up again. You're going to have to be careful just how you phrase your reports, Jim."

"You could do them for me," Jim suggested slyly. "Then there'd be no mistakes."

"No way, man. I do enough writing now." Blair put his cup back on the table, then reached down and removed the icepack from his ankle. He flexed the joint experimentally once or twice, wincing slightly. Jim lay back against the pillows and watched. "How does it feel now?"

"Not too bad," Blair answered, massaging the joint a little to encourage the warmth back into the flesh. "I think I just jarred it. It doesn't really hurt at all now."

"I'll drive you over to pick up your car in the morning and you can take it to the mechanic. If it's not ready by the time, you need to leave the university, you call me, I'll come pick you up."

Blair nodded, then suddenly launched himself at the other man, wrapping his arms tightly around Jim's neck. He peppered Jim's face and neck in kisses before returning to hug him tightly. "I love you so much, Jim," he whispered. "You love me too, don't you?"

Jim reached up and unhooked Blair's fingers then leaned back a little so that he could cup Blair's face in his hands. "What's wrong, Blair?" he asked, worry beginning to gnaw at him. "What's this all about? Why do you suddenly need reassurance that I love you? You know I do. I haven't done anything to make you doubt that, have I?"

Blair tried to push himself away but Jim held firm and Blair sighed and relaxed into the hold. "I saw your diary this morning. It fell off the bed, face first onto the floor. When I picked it up, I just glanced at it. I swear, Jim, I wasn't prying."

Jim pressed a kiss to Blair's lips. "That's okay, Chief. I've got nothing to hide from you."

"There was a date circled and it had your and Carolyn's names written next to it, and anniversary."

"Oh," Jim replied. "That."

"Do you really love me, Jim? If you've still got feelings for Carolyn, I'll understand, but I can't just be a convenience to you because Carolyn's gone."

Jim tugged at Blair's arm until the young man lay down beside him, then he rolled over and blanketed his lover's body with his own. "I love you, Blair, only you," he said, stroking a hand down Blair's cheek. "The date that's circled is the anniversary of our divorce. I keep it in there as a reminder."

"Reminder of what?"

"A reminder of what I've got to lose, if I don't handle things properly this time around. Carolyn and I screwed up our marriage out of jealousy and selfishness. We were both in the force, both trying to get promotions. We worked our asses off at the precinct, and by the time we came home to spend time together, there wasn't enough of us left to give to each other. You and I are in a similar situation here. You're spending a lot of time at the station with me, hell, you're my partner in every sense of the word. I don't want us to lose sight of each other."

Blair was silent for a long time, then he leaned up and pressed a kiss to Jim's lips. "Have I ever told you how lucky I am to have you?"

"You're usually too busy telling me how lucky I am to have you."

Blair shrugged. "Well, tonight I'm telling you. I'm so very lucky to have you, James Ellison."

"The feeling's mutual, Chief," Jim answered. He rolled to the side and indicated that Blair should lift his arms. "Didn't we have a deal about warming you up?"

Blair was naked in seconds, his cock straining up from its nest of curls, the tip already wet with desire. He waited impatiently for Jim to shed his clothes, then pulled his lover back over on top of him. He tilted his hips up and wrapped his legs about the detective's waist, so that they lay, chest to chest, cock to cock. Blair cupped Jim's skull and pulled his lover's head down to claim his mouth in a deep kiss. As his tongue snaked out to plunder Jim's mouth, Blair began to rock back and forth, providing a steady friction for both of them between their bodies. The rhythm was slow and languid at first, gradually picking up speed and force until both men were panting with the need for completion. Jim felt warmth spread over his belly and the sensation spurred his own release. His seed mixed with Blair's, and he held his lover tightly through his orgasm, vowing to never let him go.

The End.

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Acknowledgments: Thank you to the MME family, especially Patt, Lisa, Mary (the wonder-beta), Blue Tattoo and Theban Band.