After living together for so many years, Jim knew that Blair had seen him in various states of undress many times before. Oddly enough, the Sentinel found himself nervous over stripping down to get into the shower. 'Get a grip, Ellison,' Jim thought to himself. 'Blair's been in parts of me that nobody has ever touched before.'
The Sentinel looked over to find his Guide having similar problems. The younger man had removed all of his clothing except for his boxers. They stood there for a moment, both embarrassed and unsure at what to do next. As the absurdity of the situation hit them, they both began laughing at the same time.
Jim reached into the shower and began running the hot water, and by the time the Sentinel's attention had returned to his Guide, the younger man was completely naked. He could do nothing but stand there gaping as Blair pushed past him and stepped into the steaming stream of water.
"You planning on joining me?" Blair asked with a saucy grin. The azure blue eyes were twinkling with mischief, but when Jim slowly pulled down his boxers and stepped out of them, the tint darkened into the color of the deepest ocean. It was Blair's turn to stare as the older man boldly walked right into the shower with a grin of his own.
With both of them unsure of what the other one was expecting, they took turns under the hot water, each washing his own hair. Blair was surprised to find bottles of his favorite shampoo and conditioner still in the shower caddy, but said nothing about it. However, as soon as that familiar fragrance wafted through the air mixing with the intoxicating scent that only came from Blair himself, all the blood in Jim's body made a massive detour to his groin.
In all of their phone conversations, the Sentinel had never mentioned that his favorite way of releasing his pent-up sexual frustration was using his Guide's shampoo to masturbate in the shower. The slick substance was more than just lubrication, the unique scent helped him to trick his enhanced senses as he fantasized about Blair. Now, the object of his desires was actually here, and just the knowledge of that fact was enough leave him with a powerful erection.
The Sentinel eyes swept down over his lover's dripping body. The long wet hair was slicked back from his forehead, added a more dangerous edge to the younger man's raw sensuality. Sweeping his gaze past the wanton look on his Guide's face, Jim took a moment to admire the solid expanse of the hair dusted flesh and muscle that comprised Blair's chest. It never failed to amaze the older man how deceptive Blair's height actually was. So many people, himself included, tended to overlook the sinewy strength and iron will that were so neatly camouflaged by the smaller build of his Guide's body. Maybe that was why it was so easy for Blair to get people to talk to him, trust him with their secrets.
Putting the revelation aside for the moment, Jim continued his inspection. His eyes followed the thinning trail of hair down from the bottom of the rib cage, past the indentation of the younger man's navel, right down to the erection that was jutting eagerly away from the thick mat of coarse hair. The Sentinel didn't need enhanced vision to see the glistening drop of pre-come that had gathered at the tip; almost beckoning him to touch it.
Blair's respiration had noticeably increased as Jim visually ravaged his body. The soft pants echoed in the Sentinel's ears like rolls of thunder, exponentially increasing the desire that was raging through him. It was like a banquet and he was a starving man, everything looked so good that he just didn't know where to begin.
Fortunately, Blair had a few ideas of his own. Reaching for a washcloth, the younger man poured a little liquid soap into it and rubbed it into a lather. Once the action was completed, his smoky eyes pierced Jim's. The overwhelming lust the Sentinel saw directed at him froze him in place.
"Wash me?" Blair said, his passion clearly evident in his tone. The Sentinel accepted the cloth with a shaking hand, never once turning his eyes away from the hypnotic stare of his Guide. Jim took a step forward, the motion more symbolic than necessary as they were already standing so close to each other. Finally, the Sentinel broke the gaze in order to concentrate on the task at hand.
He began with his Guide's slender neck, and proceeded to work downwards. As Jim moved the cloth over the expanse of Blair's chest, he left a trail of soapy bubbles behind on each inch of skin. When he brushed the rough textured cloth over the sensitive nipples, the younger man hissed in pleasure. The Sentinel repeated the contact a few times before continuing downward. Once he reached his Guide's waist, Jim kneeled down to clean Blair's feet. His Guide's moan of disappointment almost made the Sentinel chuckle.
The entire time Jim was working his way upwards over the strong calves and the powerful thighs, Blair's erection was bobbing mere inches away from his face. He had to admit that the swollen flesh, which was now copiously leaking pre-ejaculate, made a tempting sight. The salty scent of the semen mixed with the musky scent that was most prevalent at his Guide's groin was inflaming the Sentinel's sense of smell.
"Please. Oh God, please Jim, I need to feel you. Please." Blair begged desperately.
Even though he knew what his Guide wanted him to do, the older man held back. For some reason, Jim couldn't bring himself to take Blair's cock into his mouth. Instead, the Sentinel ran the washcloth over the swollen flesh. As the rough material made contact with the sensitive skin, Blair's hips involuntarily bucked forward. Abandoning the cloth, Jim took his Guide's cock in his hand and began pumping it slowly.
Blair was moaning in time with each stroke. Using the noises as a gauge, whenever the younger man increased either the volume or the tempo, Jim increased the speed of his motions. Sensing that his Guide was nearing the edge, the Sentinel brought his free hand up to caress the tender flesh of Blair's balls. Almost as soon as he touched them, Jim felt the almost imperceptible tightening that heralded his Guide's orgasm.
The sound of Blair screaming out his name along with the sight of the semen as it arced through the air to land on Jim's own chin, neck, and shoulder brought on the Sentinel's climax as well. The younger man was swaying precariously in the aftermath, barely able to maintain his footing on the slick shower floor. With the last of his own strength, Jim brought his hands to Blair's waist to hold him steady. They remained that way until they both got their breathing under control.
The Sentinel brought the washcloth with him when he rose from his kneeling position. He was about to hand it over to his Guide when the hot water gave out, drawing yelps from both men as they were drenched by the freezing spray from the shower head. Knowing how easily Blair caught a chill, Jim pushed him from the tub with a gentle kiss to ease the sting of separation.
"Man, I was looking forward to..."
"You'll get your turn soon enough, Chief. Besides, I'm not sure I could handle another round right now," the Sentinel said as he gestured to his now flaccid penis.
"All right. I'll take a raincheck," Blair answered with a pout, but grinned mischievously as he added, "for now."
While the Sentinel rushed to wash himself as quickly as possible, Blair was using the edge of his towel to clear a spot in the fogged bathroom mirror. After he brushed his teeth, he poured some of Jim's shaving cream into his hand and began applying it to his face. By the time the older man was drying himself off, the younger man was about halfway through his task. Jim was enthralled as he watched the familiar process. Blair's expression was one of intense concentration as he contorted his features to reach some of the more awkward areas. He had never understood why so many women were fascinated by observing men shave, until now. It wasn't so much the actions themselves, but the level of intimacy involved in seeing something so casual, and yet at the same time so personal. Jim almost felt like a voyeur, even though he had seen Blair shave many times in the past.
"What, did I miss a spot or something?" Blair asked. The question startled Jim, who had believed that his Guide was unaware of his close scrutiny.
"No. I was just watching you," the Sentinel replied.
"Oookay," Blair laughed as he rinsed off the remaining flecks of shaving cream. Moving forward, the younger man gave the Sentinel a short, gentle kiss. As he broke away, Blair smiled. "I'm gonna go start breakfast while you finish up in here."
Before his Guide could leave the steamy bathroom, Jim grabbed the smaller man by the arm and swung him around for a long, passionate kiss. Blair's hands moved slowly up his back as Jim's tongue demanded, and was granted entrance into his Guide's mouth. When they finally broke apart, the younger man brought a shaking hand up to his kiss-bruised lips.
"Wow!" he said simply. "What was that for?"
"Merry Christmas, Blair," Jim answered with a smile.
Somewhat dazed, the younger man managed to return the sentiment before he stumbled his way to the kitchen.
~~~~~~~~~~~
They ate a quick breakfast of eggs and toast before they moved into the living room to open presents. The weather outside was utterly typical of Cascade; cold, yet high enough over the freezing point to keep the pouring rain from turning into snow. Jim was somewhat grateful for the dark, heavy clouds that hung low in the sky. Sentinel and Guide combated the dim light and the humidity from the rain that was seeping in through the windows with a combination of a roaring fire and the twinkle of the tree lights. Alone with his lover on Christmas day as they opened their gifts, the loft had a special air of coziness about it.
Blair dug into the box he had brought with him, dividing the festively-wrapped presents into piles -- those for Jim, and all the others that he would have to distribute later that afternoon at the Brown’s. Once the task was completed, they began exchanging gifts one at a time.
For Blair, Jim had purchased a vast array of gifts. The younger man was thrilled by each and every one, partially for the time and money his Sentinel had put into them, but mostly for the thought that went into choosing each present. Clothing, camping gear, books, a new attaché case, a new earring (Jim pitched a fit when Blair said he would have to add another piercing to wear it, but wouldn’t disclose exactly where he was going to put it). However, the most touching gift Jim presented to his Guide was a box full of CD’s, each with a song that reminded the older man of some aspect of their relationship. That last gift earned Jim a powerful embrace filled with a variety of kisses ranging from gentle to I’m-going-to-take-you-right-here -right-now.
In turn, Blair had also put a great deal of consideration into his choices for Jim. Clothing, the new ankle holster Jim had mentioned he wanted, a carved panther fetish, a few books on same-sex relationships (the Sentinel turned a lovely shade of red as he flipped through the pages of The Gay Joy of Sex), but it wasn’t until he opened the last box that Jim’s heart skipped a beat. Blair had taken the time to go through every photograph he had of the two of them together. Choosing twenty of his favorites, he had them enlarged to 8”x10” and put them into a professional style album made of the softest dark leather. Flipping through the pages, Jim relived the memories of each occasion; from Christmases past to the Detective of the Year banquet to Blair’s graduation day. Overwhelmed by emotion, Jim could barely get out any words to thank his Guide for such a touching gift. Instead, he just pulled the younger man into a backbreaking embrace and held on tight.
With their gifts to each other out of the way, they moved on to some of the others that were left under the tree. A few of the professors that the anthropologist had worked with at Rainer had dropped off gifts at the loft over the past few weeks. Naomi sent Jim a beautifully hand carved mask. Blair explained the significance of it as they picked out a place to display it.
Blair was nothing short of stunned when he opened Steven’s gift to him. “Jim, I can’t believe this! This is too much, man,” he exclaimed as he leafed through the brochures.
“I know, Chief. I said pretty much the exact same thing, but Steven insisted. This trip is really important to him,” the Sentinel explained.
“Look, Jim, maybe it would be better if just the two of you went alone, y’know, spend some fraternal quality time together or something. You just say the word, and I’ll make up some school commitment...”
“No way, Chief. First off, this is a chance for me to see you. In case you don’t realize it, I’d walk through hell itself just to spend an extra minute of time with you,” Jim answered Blair’s beaming smile with a gentle grin of his own before continuing. “Second of all, I doubt that Steven would have shelled out this kind of dough if he really didn’t want you along as well.”
“Well then, I guess we’re going to Aspen!” Blair replied with an impish smile before launching himself into Jim’s waiting arms.
After exchanging a few smoldering kisses, they broke apart and began cleaning up the shredded wrapping paper that littered the floor. His Guide held the large black trash bag open as Jim threw the refuse into it. As they were working, Jim’s detective instinct had him puzzling over something that he had been working over in the back of his mind for the past two days.
“What’s wrong, Jim?” Blair asked, alerted by the distant look on his Sentinel’s face. It was the same expression the detective always sported when something in one of his cases just didn’t seem to add up.
Shaking his head at the silliness of the problem, Jim was hesitant to mention it. “It’s no big deal, Sandburg.”
In retrospect, Jim should have known better. Saying those words when there obviously was something bothering him had the same effect as waving a red flag and surrounding the problem with neon lighting. Blair was always as tenacious as a pitbull when it came to dragging information out of the reluctant Sentinel. As it was, the younger man didn’t even need to use words. Instead, he simply crossed his arms patiently over his chest, a gesture that sent a silent cue that said ‘I’m waiting.’
One look at the unspoken demand in Blair’s body language and the Sentinel was tried to keep himself from capitulating. However, as soon as he saw one defiant eyebrow arch up to his Guide’s hairline, Jim felt his backbone take a hike. Rubbing the bridge of his nose in resignation, the detective finally broke down and admitted what was bothering him so.
“I’m not quite sure how to say this without being insulting, so try to bear with me here, Chief.” Jim paused as he waited for Sandburg’s nod that he understood what his partner was saying. “When Steven told me the vacation was for the three of us, I sort of wondered why he had included you. Don’t get me wrong here, Chief. I can’t wait to spend another whole week with you, even if it will be sheer torture knowing that you’re so close by, and I won’t be able to touch you. I just don’t know if I’ll be ready to...well...”
Blair’s heartbeat spiked as he finished the thought. “Come out to Steven about our relationship?”
Nodding to confirm the younger man’s suspicions, Jim wondered what exactly had caused his Guide’s pulse to skyrocket. Blair had never had any problems with keeping their new relationship under wraps before. In fact, he always seemed somewhat relieved that they wouldn’t be disclosing anything to their friends and acquaintances for the time being.
Now, his Guide looked as though he were mentally debating something. Jim watched the parade of emotions cross Blair’s face, knowing from experience to wait until the younger man had reached an internal conclusion before attempting to find out what was going on in that brilliant mind of his. It was a only a few seconds before Blair took a deep breath and pasted a smile on his face.
“We better get moving if we’re going to be on time for dinner. Did you remember to get all the stuff I asked for from the grocery store?” Blair inquired conversationally as he walked to the kitchen.
Well aware that his Guide’s decision was to duck the matter for the moment, Jim allowed the blatant change of subject with an abiding tolerance. ‘I’ll let it go for now, Chief, but we will discuss this later when we have more time,’ the Sentinel thought to himself. Speaking aloud, he confirmed that he had, indeed, filled the list of ingredients that Blair had recited over the phone last week. With an exaggerated sigh, Jim followed his Guide into the kitchen to help.
They managed to steer the conversation back to less sensitive ground as Blair threw together the vegetable dish he was supposed to bring with him. They were as efficient as ever, falling back to their old habit of the younger man cooking and the older man cleaning up behind him. When the task was completed, they moved back to the living room and gathered up the presents they would be bringing with them to the Brown’s.
With some time left to kill before they had to leave, Blair talked Jim into making fresh whipped cream from scratch to go with the pumpkin pie he would be bringing. Since the Sentinel had never made the treat before, the younger man guided him through the process, just like he guided Jim with his enhanced senses. Blair insisted that the older man do the work himself, supervising as the Sentinel added the confection sugar to the thick cream before he blended the ingredients together.
It wasn’t all that long before the bad puns and innuendoes started flying. It began with Jim’s stray comment that the vibration from the hand-held power mixer was, in his own words, ‘a little exciting.’ Blair plastered a thoughtful look on his face as he loudly muttered that he would have to remember that his Sentinel found small electrical appliances stimulating. The conversation headed straight downhill from that point, leaving both men half-aroused and with bad cases of the giggles.
Blair continually tasted the confection to check it’s consistency, until Jim thought of a better idea. Running his own finger along the side of the bowl, the Sentinel brought up his hand and smeared the clinging whipped cream all over his Guide’s full lips. Bending down, he proceeded to lick the sweet substance away, before claiming the rest of Blair’s mouth in a series of searing kisses that left both men aching with need. As they pulled apart, Jim quipped to his dazed partner. “So, what do you think?”
Coming back to his senses, the younger man quickly reached over to turn off the mixer that had continued to run during the passionate exchange. “I think if that gets whipped much longer, you’re going to end up with a bowl full of butter.”
Jim raised an eyebrow at the comment, but didn’t say anything out loud as he turned off the mixer and removed the beaters. Offering one to his Guide, they both took a minute to lick the whipped cream from the metal like little kids, each man laughing at the sight of the other. They shared one more sticky kiss before turning around to finish the last of the kitchen clean-up.
“Y’know, Chief,” Jim called softly without looking up from the beaters he was washing. “It’s too bad we didn’t make any more whip cream. It might have come in...handy...later tonight.”
Without missing a beat, Blair set down the piece of saran wrap he was about to cover the bowl with for transport. Jim barely managed to contain his laughter as he heard the younger man slam another, smaller tupperware bowl on the counter and start rapidly dividing the whip cream evenly between the two containers.
"Better get that Cool-Whip out of the fridge, man," Blair said seriously. "I don't think there's enough for everybody and I don't give a shit what day of the year it is -- I am not going to share."
Jim was howling with laughter as his Guide handed him one of the tupperware containers to put back into the fridge for later.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
December 25th 3:04 PM
The dinner Ray and Karen Brown were hosting was more of a pot-luck supper for those members of the police force who had no other family with whom to celebrate the holiday. Karen had prepared both an enormous turkey and a honey-baked ham, but the remaining side-dishes and desserts were brought by the guests. The end result was a mountain of food that should have fed a small army.
Blair and Jim were among the first to arrive. They called out greetings to the people who were gathered in the living room as they made their way into the kitchen to drop off their own contributions for dinner. Blair had brought his famous sweet potato soufflé, always a favorite among the detectives who had been lucky enough to experience it. Jim, on the other hand, had gone the bachelor route, purchasing three large pies from the bakery downstairs from the loft.
They entered the kitchen just in time to see Karen struggling unsuccessfully to remove the twenty-five pound turkey from the oven. Moving as one, Sentinel and Guide quickly set their own burdens on whatever unfettered counter space they could find, and rushed forward to whisk the heavy load out of the expectant mother’s arms. When Jim had a firm grip on the hotpads, Blair relinquished his hold and directed the detective to the waiting wooden cooling board on a nearby table.
“Ah, the cavalry has arrived,” Karen joked, remembering Blair’s fondness for any kind of culinary endeavors.
Blair rolled his eyes, but nevertheless allowed himself to be drafted to the kitchen detail until more of the guests arrived. Jim took a minute to enjoy the anthropologist’s absolutely dumbfounded look when he asked what he could do to help, instead of heading for the living room to enjoy the football game already in progress with the rest of the guys. It wasn’t as though he really wanted to hang out in the kitchen. The simple truth of the matter was that Blair had only been home for less than a day, and Jim would be damned before he willingly spent even a second of precious time away from his lover.
“Just keep him away from anything edible,” Blair told Karen. When the Sentinel defended himself, his Guide just smirked and shook his head. “Protest all you want, man.”
“I’ll have you know that there are some things I can cook very well,” Jim insisted.
“Yeah, well, you’ve got your version, and I’ve got the truth,” Blair laughed. “I should know, I suffered through what you consider ‘cooking’ three times a week for almost four years, man.”
Karen set Jim to work doing what he did best in a kitchen, cleaning and straightening. The remainder of the guests all arrived within twenty minutes of Jim and Blair. With fresh draftees available, Karen graciously shooed the men out into what she referred to as ‘the den of testosterone.’
After making the social rounds, the lovers, along with Darryl and Simon, excused themselves to Karen’s study in order to privately exchange presents. Father and son had chosen to go in together on gifts for the partners. For Jim, there was the new style of Ray-Ban’s that he had been lusting after for months now; and Blair was thrilled with the latest model of Nike hiking boots. Much to Simon’s chagrin, Jim gifted Darryl with a pair of third row tickets to the sold out Fugee’s concert. He had purchased the tickets in the same Vice operation that had netted Steven’s Jags tickets. The younger Banks was no less excited by Blair’s gift to him. The anthropologist had somehow managed to find an autographed Michael Jordan trading card. Between their gifts, the Sentinel was almost sure he could actually see the kid vibrating out of sheer happiness.
Jim and Blair had coordinated long distance in their choice of gifts for Simon. The Sentinel went first, presenting his Captain with a beautiful polished wood humidor for his cigars. As he handed over his own present for the older man, Blair made Simon promise not to arrest him.
“Arrest you?” Simon marveled as he read the outside of the wooden box. “Sandburg, if you were a woman, I’d kiss you! Where in the hell did you get a box of Cohiba’s?”
“A good anthropologist always reveals his sources,” Blair quipped. “Let’s just say that you’d better be really nice to Naomi the next time you see her.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, kid,” Simon replied as he quickly did his best to rewrap the box in what was left of the shredded gift wrap it had been enclosed in a few minutes earlier.
“What are you doing, Dad?” Darryl inquired.
“Half of my cigar club is sitting between this box and my car. You must be crazy if you think that I’m going to share these fine Cuban cigars.”
With Jim, Blair, and Darryl running interference, Simon managed to smuggle the precious cigars safely out to his trunk without notice. He barely made it back inside in time to hear Karen call everyone to the table. Moving into the seat his son had held for him, Simon was honored when he was asked to say grace. The word ‘amen’ was still floating in the air when those assembled attacked the food like a pack of wild dogs.
Back to JR's Sentinel Stories